The Afternoon Tea Club. Jane Gilley
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today’s afternoon tea is to inspire you to mix with people you may not have met before with a view to possibly forming new friendships. You see, we believe that once you start making new connections with each other – once you realise that what you feel and think is still important to us all – you’ll start to feel more valued within your own community. We’re sure you’ll agree that chatting and discussion creates camaraderie and a general feeling of wellbeing.’
‘Yes, there’s nothing like a cuppa and a good natter,’ someone said, laughing.
‘Exactly!’ Eileen agreed. ‘Being part of a social gathering generally makes people feel happier and accepted, doesn’t it? So we think a concept like this would help lift your spirits and give you a new purpose in life. Plus by engaging in some new activities and experiences you would also play your own part by contributing to the wellbeing of your community.’
Murmurs of approval and slow head-nodding began to weave around the tables.
‘So how else do we feel you could help your community?’ said Taynor, taking over from Eileen with an encouraging smile. ‘Well, following on from this initial idea, we’d then hope to get your feedback about new incentives to help enrich the lives of yourselves and those around you. This would be your chance to help us compile a document to present to our bosses about the needs of our elderly and housebound community. We’d need signatures from all your family and friends to give this project enough clout to resonate and make a real difference to all our lives. In other words, your opinion is being sought with a view to make positive changes within our community. How does that sound to you all?’
A ripple of surprise ran around the community centre. Marjorie wasn’t the only one to realise that she and Gracie hadn’t read the flyer correctly. Wasn’t this meant to be a simple afternoon out, for afternoon tea, no strings attached? Taynor sounded like a political canvasser, touting for votes. But, golly, this was better than that kind of politics. Eileen and Taynor actually wanted them to join in and contribute to the society they lived in. Well, that was a first! The amount of times she’d have liked to have got on her soapbox and crow to anyone who’d listen about everything she thought was wrong with society today! And yet here she was now. Here they all were now, being invited to set the stage for the ‘greater good’.
‘Well, that’s a marvellous idea,’ said the elderly gent who had already spoken, intruding on the whispered confusion of the others. ‘I’m all for it!’
‘But would these afternoons stop then, after you got your, um, your data or whatever?’ asked a canny younger lady, dressed in a pale grey trouser suit.
Eileen stepped forward to speak again.
‘Not at all. As long as yourselves, as a community, want afternoons out, we hope to continue providing them. We’d also like suggestions as to what other activities you’d like to participate in. You know, things like a weekly art class or a drive out for the day. Activities like that. Of course, as you get to know each other you can start arranging your own afternoons out if you wish or you could start forming your own clubs and organisations. We’re simply here to start the ball rolling, as it were, to help you help yourselves in order to improve your lives and give you your own voice within our community. We want to help you realise that, no matter what your age or circumstances, you do still count.’
Marjorie noticed the shift from complacency to murmurs of ‘Oh right,’ or ‘Well, that would be rather nice for a change.’ People were starting to put their hands up to ask further questions. How often did anyone ask the elderly what they thought about anything? As far as she was aware, there were plenty of activities for youngsters but Marjorie had never heard of any such events for anyone of her own age. Or perhaps there were things advertised in the daily newspapers? But she only read the Sunday papers and hadn’t noticed anything like that in there and, as for things online, well, she couldn’t even use a computer, despite Gracie saying she’d help her with that. Yet it actually felt marvellous to be permitted to stand up and be counted, for once! Oliver had never let her have her own opinions. She had never been allowed to voice her concerns nor her wishes in his presence. So being given consent to stand up and say something meaningful would be quite splendid.
‘Can we tell our friends about this scheme? I think my friend Elsa would love to go for a drive somewhere. She’s housebound at the moment,’ said the girl in the yellow cardigan.
‘Yes, of course,’ said Taynor. ‘We’d like to get the community involved as much as possible. We’re here to hear what you have to say and then act upon it. All suggestions very welcome. Right, so we’d like you to have a think about what activities you’d like to do and if you decide to come back next week could you write out your ideas and put them in our suggestion box? We’ll put the box at the side here, by the table, next week. Then we can discuss it all the following week, when we’ve read through what you’ve got to say. Oh yes – sorry – I forgot to tell you, we’re going to be here next week as well, so do please come back and have afternoon tea with us again – same time, same place – and bring any friends along who might be lonely or a bit fed up or whatever. We’ll also collate some name stickers next week for you to wear, which will make it a whole lot easier to remember each other’s names. So now we just need to ask if you’ve enjoyed this afternoon? Oh and I need to let you know that we might have to change the venue in the future, depending what’s in the bookings diary here, but if that’s the case we’ll let you know in advance. So now I also need to ask you, if you could and if you want to, please give us your contact details, before you leave, in case we need to cancel next week’s tea or let you know anything else.’
‘Right! So if none of you have any further questions, we’ll just say, thank you for coming along today. We hope you’ve enjoyed it and we hope to see you next week,’ said Eileen, with a slight bow.
Everybody started to clap. The tables of elderly women and the gents were quite animated by now, discussing the fact they were to be part of something – ahem – meaningful, and a social experiment, no less! Marjorie marvelled at the fact that Eileen and Taynor had managed to get an unrelated group of people, chatting freely together as if they’d known each other all their lives.
But best of all, Marjorie noticed, it had established the buzz of a sudden sense of, yes, pride in the room. Were the grey heads really starting to sit up and feel counted?
Marjorie liked that feeling, herself, too. So, yes, she might come back next week. She hadn’t intended to at the outset; she’d just been doing it to appease Gracie. But now she might ask Lou if she wanted to come. Perhaps Gracie would even pick Lou up and drive them both here. Lou would love it here as she always had plenty to say about everything. Marjorie smiled at that thought.
Oh well, it took all sorts to make a good pie!
The idea of afternoon tea with a group of total strangers had not, initially, sat well with Marjorie Sykes.
‘When you reach a certain age,’ she’d told her daughter, Gracie, ‘you only really want close friends and family around you.’
But following her discussion with Gracie, when the flyer about afternoon tea at the community centre had landed on their doormat, and the subsequent afternoon tea meeting, she was now – surprisingly – warming to the idea.
She’d shared Gracie’s flat with her for the last four years, and that had been lovely, of course, but forays out with her daughter or anyone else for that matter were sporadic. Her remaining friends were thin on the ground for one reason or another – mainly due to Oliver – or now lived elsewhere and Gracie was often shattered when she came back from work at night, after her train then bus journey from the out-of-town secondary school where she taught English. So Marjorie had very little interaction with anyone on a regular basis, apart from the man in the corner shop or the postman or occasional visits to see her doctor.
Her only child, Gracie, slim with a blonde bob, was the apple of her