'That face has travelled.' I thought as I watched her tongue deftly flick up the blob of cream that oozed from her jumbo doughnut.
'Call me Reet, everybody else does.' She said.
I told her that I liked Rita better,
Noticing that I hadn't ordered any food, she asked ' Is your stomach off, duck?'
I could have said that I've got used to having just coffee, mid-morning, instead I just nodded.
'You're not one of them dieting freaks, are you?' She asked. There was a blob of cream on her nose. It suited her
As I shook my head I could hear Madge saying 'Not dieting, just eating sensibly, lots of fruit and fibre, very little fat and no sugar or red meat.'
'You look as though you need a bit of nourishment, to me.' Rita said
I can remember my mother saying something very similar, the last time I saw her.
Madge always said that my mother had dug her own grave with her teeth, and I'd say 'Yes, and it only took her ninety six years.'
Mrs Rothmore and her friend Mrs Higson came in and sat at the next table. Mrs Rothmore said something quietly, whilst trying hard not to look in our direction.
'So what do you do with yourself, then?' Rita asked as the last bit of doughnut bit the dust. I briefly outlined my daily routine. Rita ordered another doughnut.
'You ought to have a bit of pork pie'¦.we make those, you know. You might even get a bit I filled with my own little pinkies.' she said waving her fat red digits in the air.
Her doughnut arrived. It looked even more jumbo than the first.
Mrs Rothmore looked disgusted. Mrs Rothmore regards cream cakes as decadent.
'We'd best try and keep to Madge's way of doing things.' She'd said, that morning after Madge had died. I'd been up most of the night and everything seemed so unreal, I didn't quite know where I was. She came round, first thing, in her neat little pinafore, and took complete charge.
'Leave everything to me,' She said 'I'll make all the arrangements and see to it all.'
'What did you advertise for?' Rita asked 'You seem to have plenty on, as it is.'
I explained that I'd been on my own for over a year and fancied a bit of female company, for a change
She laughed and nodded towards Mrs. Rothmore
'Her in the hat is just gagging to give you all the female company you can handle.'
Isn't it funny how women can spot these things?
After the funeral, I was at such a low ebb that, at first, I failed to notice how much I was becoming dependent on Mrs Rothmore. She more or less carried on where Madge had left off 'Time is great healer.' She'd say. 'Jack's been gone nine years. He's standing next to Jesus and I talk to him, every day.'
As time pasted, Mrs. Rothmore and Saint Jack began to get on my nerves, so one day I packed my case and cleared off to my daughter's in Eastbourne, without saying a word to either of them.
Mrs. Rothmore doesn't bother me so much now but she seems to be always there, hanging about.
'Evenings out, you said?' Rita asked as she beckoned the waitress. Surely not another doughnut.
'I went to a show last week with my pal Jilly.' She said as the waitress arrived.
'I'll have a piece of that cherry cake, please, love.'
I looked on in wonder.
'I really fancy another doughnut, but I'd better not.' She smiled
I asked if her friend Jilly worked at the pork pie factory, too.
'No, she's on the game.' She replied, matter of fact.
Mrs Rothmore's coffee cup nearly rattled off it's saucer.
Rita's cherry cake arrived
'We went to see Daniel O' Donnel, in Birmingham, but he cancelled with laryngitis so we went to see the VMs instead'
I asked if they were a new group.
'No it's the Vagina Monologues, silly!' She said as she fought to prevent a large piece of cherry escaping from the corner of her mouth.
There was a choking noise from the next table.
I'm pretty sure vagina is a word that Mrs Rothmore would not ever use, except, perhaps, in a medical emergency, and only then in a very low whisper and a dimmed light.
I didn't quite know what to say. Having spent most of my working life in a very macho environment I'm not easily shocked but there was no way that I was going to ask the obvious question
There was no need, Rita didn't need any prompting.
'The best bit was when we all had to join in and shout 'Cunt' at the top of our voices'
I tried to get under the table. Mrs Rothmore sent for the manager.

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