P. Higgins was written in bold letters on the nameplate of the broken doorbell. I had already rung three times hearing no resonance from inside, so I went for a more practical approach and banged my fist against the door. 

Nothing. SHIT.

I was about to return to my flat, as the sound of shuffling footsteps stopped me in mid-motion. The door was yanked open, and I looked into a face as friendly as the bleakest winter morning. 

'What is it?' asked an old woman - Mrs. Higgins, I guessed - staring at me as if I were a pesky insect. Her grey curls looked dishevelled and her blue cotton blouse was faded from too many washes and at least one size too small for her barrel-shaped figure. A faint, sweet smell of fermented fruits clung to her, which reminded me of my dad’s beloved brandy. 

'Hello, I’m Maddy, I live in the flat below you,' I said with my most charming smile that the blokes from The Royal Inn - the seedy dive where I worked four nights a week - always rewarded with some extra coins. 'My son and I moved in last week and-'

'Please spare me your life story. What do you want?' 

I snapped my mouth shut; speechless for a moment at her rude interruption. My first impulse was to give her a good telling-off, but the warning from my boss Steve the Pig - the owner of The Royal Inn - was still echoing in my ears. This grumpy woman was my only hope, as much as I wished she weren’t. 

'I’m sorry to bother you, but I got a call from work and they need me there asap. My son Willy is only nine years old and I can’t leave him alone all night. I hoped that maybe - '

'Stop right there,' Mrs. Higgins interrupted again. 'I know what you’re getting at, and my answer is NO!'

I took a deep breath. 'Please, I was just hoping I could give you my keys and you could check on him...' 

'Listen, Missy,' her voice became steely, 'if your boy isn’t able to spend a few hours without his mummy, it’s really not my problem.'

Something inside me snapped. I stepped towards her and made a show of sniffing the air. 'I know how self-centred the lot of you are; after all, I had to live with an old drunk for the first ten years of my life. But don't you ever say anything about my son again, do you hear me?' 

I turned around and marched to the staircase where it always smelled like cabbage. 'And my name is Maddy!' I said without giving her another glance. 

*

The following week, Willy and I were returning from grocery shopping when I saw Mrs. Higgins waddling in our direction. Our first encounter immediately popped into my head and the anger boiled up again. That night, Steve the Pig had been furious about me bringing Willy to work, but at least the display of my breasts in the low-cut shirt had saved me from being sacked. 

Laden with heavy bags, I tried to open the lift doors and avoid the old grump, but the stupid thing was still broken down. SHIT. 

'Is that your son?' I heard Mrs. Higgins ask. Rolling my eyes, I turned away from the lift to face her. The old woman’s sharp gaze moved back and forth between me and Willy. 'You must have been a child yourself when you got him.' 

'That’s none of your business. Let’s go, Willy.' He was looking at Mrs. Higgins with a curious expression, as I gave him a gentle push towards the stairs. 

'Listen, boy,' she said, bluntly ignoring me. 'I’m not very good on my feet, but I’ve got to post these.' Now, I noticed two envelopes dangling between her gnarled fingers. 'Take them to the post office for me and you can keep the change.' Without waiting for an answer, she held out the letters and a five-pound note to him. 'It’s a good deal, you can keep half the money.' 

'Actually, one letter costs £1.70, so I only keep about thirty percent. But I’ll do it anyway,' Willy said, taking the letters and money from her grasp. 

The old woman stared at him, her eyes round with surprise, while a glow of pure satisfaction warmed me and threatened to calm me down. 'No way. He will NOT post those letters for you. What are you thinking?!' 

'That I’m old, my knees hurt like hell and this moron of a doctor is just offering me aspirin because he thinks I’m faking it.' 

'If your body isn’t able to carry you a few feet without hurting, it’s really not my problem,' I scoffed, rephrasing her comment about my boy's inability to stay alone at night. 

A small hand stroked my arm and I became embarrassingly aware that I must be a terrible role model, shouting like a loon at an old lady who must appear quite fragile. 

Even if she was a drunken old hag. 

 'It’s all right, Mum. I can do it.'

'Good boy,' the drunken old hag said and without a goodbye, she waddled back to the stairs, hoisting her massive body up to her floor. I sighed and gave Willy a kiss on the soft cheek before he dashed through the front door.

*

Willy was late. Normally he would have been back from school two hours ago. After inhaling my third cigarette in five minutes, I decided I couldn’t wait any longer. I grabbed my parka from the coat rack and hurried into the hallway. Halfway down the stairs, I heard voices on the floor below. 

'My teacher said that if my reading doesn’t get better, I can lose my scholarship.' 

I stopped on the stairs and nearly toppled over with relief when I recognised it was Willy speaking. But the joy was immediately replaced by concern as the meaning of his words seeped through. 

'She said that the high requirements of the school are too much pressure for me.' Sniff. Pause. 'Mum will be so sad that I’m too stupid for school.' 

'Listen, boy.' 

That voice I recognised, too. My instincts flared, and all I wanted to do was scream at Mrs. Higgins to leave my child alone. Intent on doing just that, I stormed on as her next words drifted up to me and slowed me down.

'That teacher is a silly goose. And I’m an expert at judging the stupidity of teachers, having been one myself.' Mrs. Higgins coughed and her harsh voice became a tad less hostile. 'I bet the only thing you need is more practice. And I know a few tricks that might be helpful. I can show them to you.' 

Sniff. 'You would do that?' 

'Didn’t I just say so? But you need to stop crying now and go upstairs to your mum. I can imagine she’s worried because you’re not home yet.' 

I heard shuffling noises and a suppressed cry of pain, as if someone was rising from an uncomfortable position. Not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, I quietly climbed the stairs again. 

'And listen,' Mrs. Higgins’ next words reached me at the top of the stairs, hitting me square in the chest. 'I’ve dealt with more than my fair share of stupid little boys. You’re not one of them.' 

*

Mrs. Higgins’ doorbell was still broken, making me wonder if there was anything actually operating in this grotty council house. Since I had overheard her conversation with Willy, I hadn’t seen her around all day. I knocked and waited for at least two minutes until I finally heard movement in her flat. 

'What is it now?' asked Mrs Higgins in her typical manner of greeting and scowling after she had opened the door. Her voice sounded rough.

'Hello, I won’t bother you for long. Willy told me you offered him help with his reading problem. So, thank you, that’s very kind of you.' 

 'I can die happy now.' Mrs. Higgins’ lips twisted into a smug grin. 'You seem surprised that a self-centred old drunk like me isn’t so useless after all.'

'I’m very surprised,' I said truthfully, but softened the jab with a smile. I looked down at her knees; the swelling was visible even through the cotton pants. 'Do they hurt you often?'

'All the time.' 

I nodded. There was nothing I could say and for a moment we stood there like actors without a script, until Mrs. Higgins coughed and asked, 'Was there anything else? Tonight is Bingo Tuesday down at the community centre.' 

'No, that’s all. Have a good evening.' And without intending it, I heard myself add, 'If there’s anything I can do for you - go grocery shopping or set that doctor of yours straight - you know where I live.' 

'If I ever get that desperate, I’ll let you know.' 

I huffed. Grumpy old hag.

I was already halfway down the hall when Mrs. Higgins suddenly called out to me. 'Thank you, Maddy.'

Stunned, I turned back to her and caught one last glimpse of her puffy hair before the door closed with a soft click.