Ron’s brother, Fred, and his wife, Maria, had a new grandson, and we had been invited to the christening, which was to be held on a Sunday. On the day of the christening, I telephoned Hilda to say we would call in to her Mum’s first, and then bring her to Hilda’s with us. This would save Arthur a journey. It was bitterly cold on the day of the christening, and I telephoned Mum Bennison to tell her to wrap up warm. When we arrived at Mum Bennison’s I was surprised at how nice she looked. Her hair had been washed and set at the hairdressers, and she was wearing a nice dress and cardigan. When I complimented her on her appearance, she was quite pleased. I told her she would need a warm coat to wear, and she went into her bedroom and came out wearing a lovely real fur coat. I wondered where she had got it from, and Ron said that she had probably pinched it from a jumble sale.
When we arrived at Hilda’s, the first thing she said on seeing her Mum was: “You look nice for a change.” Mum Bennison was annoyed at this remark and said to Hilda: “Bloody cheek, listening to you, anyone would think I let myself go.” Hilda looked at me and laughed, then she said to her Mum: “Well you do look a sight most of the time.” Then she asked her Mum where she had pinched the fur coat from. Mum Bennison sat down, and I could see she was in a bit of a huff, and she did not answer Hilda. Then Mum Bennison said that she would go in our car, and not Arthur’s. She was quiet on the way to the christening, and I thought it was not a very good beginning to the day.
We arrived at Maria’s house, and she said how nice Mum Bennison looked. This time she did not take it as a compliment, as she remarked that anyone would think she never looked nice. After having a cup of tea, we made our way to the church. It was a Roman Catholic service, and it was quite long. Mum Bennison started to complain about how cold the church was, and wanted to know how much longer the service was going on for. Mum Bennison’s voice seemed to echo around the church, and some of the guests began to look around to see where the noise was coming from. I felt a bit embarrassed, and asked her not to talk during the service. She remained quiet for a little while, then she turned to me and said: “Look at this watch, isn’t it pretty.” It was a pretty broach watch, but I did not want to get into a conversation about it. She then unpinned it from her coat, and started a long story about who had given it to her, and where it had came from. Once again people began to look, and even the priest glared at us. But nothing stopped her flow about the wretched watch. I was so pleased when the service ended, and we could leave the church.
We made our way back to Maria and Fred’s house. As soon as Hilda arrived back she started on her Mum: “It was a good job I wasn’t sitting next to you in church, I would have made you go outside,” she said, “making all that noise.” Mum Bennison protested that she did not know what Hilda was talking about, and made her way quickly indoors.
Maria had some of her relations there as well as us, so it was quite a houseful. As I went in I could see Mum Bennison standing by the hot radiator, holding her dress up so the heat would warm her legs and back. I knew Hilda would have something to say about it, and the first thing she said when she saw her was: “Put your dress down and make yourself look decent.” Then she added: “Why do you always have to show me up in front of people?”
Mum Bennison did not answer, but went and sat at the head of the dining table, which had been set for a meal. Maria asked everybody to sit down at the table, as the food was ready to be served. She brought in a large tureen of hot minestrone soup, and plates of crusty bread, and I for one, was glad to have something hot to eat. Mum Bennison started talking to me about what she wanted at her funeral, I don’t know why, as I thought a conversation about funerals was hardly appropriate at a christening. She began by saying who she wanted to invite, and then said: “What I would like is an old fashioned carriage, with glass each side to show the flowers.” Then she added: “All along one side I want a long wreath in white flowers, spelling out ‘Mum’.” That was as far as she got before Hilda interrupted, saying: “Where’s the money coming from for all this? You haven’t got a penny to your name, or any insurance policies.” Mum replied that money should not be important when you have lost your mother. By now, everybody around the table was listening to the conversation.
Hilda replied that money was important, when you did not have any. Then she said: “You’ll be lucky if we can find enough money to bury you at all.” As she was saying this, she leaned across the table to get some bread, and the sleeve of her dress dipped into her soup. She was wearing a lovely pale lilac dress, and as was the fashion then, the sleeves were very full. “Oh Arfur, look at my dress,” she said. (She never pronounced his name as ‘Arthur’.) She held up her arm, and the sleeve was dripping with soup, and stuck to the material was an assortment of vegetables. As she held her arm up, the soup began to drip on the lovely damask tablecloth. By now Maria’s immaculately laid table was beginning to look quite a mess.
Maria told Hilda to rinse the sleeve under the tap in the kitchen, then she brought a hairdryer in, and gave it to Arthur to blow over the sleeve to help it dry. I felt a bit embarrassed for Maria, as all this was going on while her other guests were still having their meal. Hilda glanced at her sleeve – which by now had dried a horrible brown colour – then looked around the table, and said: “Sorry about all the mess and fuss.” Then she added: “But at least it shut Mum up about her funeral.”
Mum Bennison finished her meal and went to sit next to the radiator to keep warm. As she sat down, her poor stiff knees made a cracking noise. She looked at Hilda and said: “Did you hear my knees? That’s my rheumatism.” If Mum Bennison was expecting sympathy from Hilda, there was none forthcoming. Hilda said: “That wasn’t your knees, that was the bleedin’ floorboards.” Ron and I started laughing, as we knew Hilda was only joking, but judging by the look on the other guests’ faces, they must have thought it was in bad taste.
It was easy to get a wrong impression of Hilda as she was so outspoken, but it would be hard to find a more genuine and caring person. Although Hilda and Mum Bennison were always arguing, Hilda loved her Mum and looked after her until she died. I can remember her saying how she wished she could have her Mum back. Hilda was so full of life and always laughing and everybody who knew her loved her. It was a great loss to us all when she died at the age of 63 after a long illness.
