Wonderfully Wacky by Vanda Inman

Sally and her grandson had a plan that would certainly get the neighbours talking!

IT was when Sally Jones wore her Christmas jumper to put the dustbin out one morning that she knew the neighbours were talking about her.

There was nothing wrong with the jumper.

It was a cheerful shade of red, sported a large snowman on the front and jingled as she walked.

The problem was that it was the middle of summer.

“Morning,” Sally called cheerfully, then noticed that Joan from one side and Gordon on the other exchanged meaningful glances before waving and disappearing into their respective bungalows.

Sally had moved into the close a couple of months before to be near her family.

Although her new neighbours seemed friendly enough, she didn’t really know them properly yet.

There was a wild screech of brakes as Ryan, Sally’s teenage grandson, skidded to a halt outside her front gate.

“Hiya, Gran,” he called as he wheeled his tattylooking bicycle inside and propped it up against the wall. “How’s things?”

“Not so bad. What’s that you’re wearing?” she asked, surveying his multicoloured top.

“Mum’s been throwing out some of Dad’s old clothes. Something called a tank top. It’s instead of buying a new body warmer for riding my bike.”

He glanced at Sally’s jumper.

“That your effort, is it?” Sally laughed.

“Well, it’s a bit chilly this morning. I really need a new jumper, but I’m sticking to our pact.”

It had all started a couple of weeks before when Ryan had arrived looking fed up.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sally had asked as she handed him a glass of juice.

“My bike,” he complained. “I need a new one but Mum and Dad say I have to earn half the money.

“And,” he continued before Sally could cut in, “they said I can’t ask you for it, either.”

“Ah.” Sally nodded. “Did they say you couldn’t ask me for advice?”

“No.”

“Well, then,” Sally said. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Yes. All through my life I’ve discovered that if you have a plan things don’t seem half as bad.”

“But I can’t think of any plan,” Ryan grumbled. “There are no part-time jobs around and no-one wants me to cut their lawns over the summer holidays.”

“In that case,” Sally replied, “we do something different. Come back tomorrow when I’ve had time to think.”

Ryan had arrived the next day with a hopeful look on his face.

“Have you thought of a plan?” he asked.

“Yes, I have.” Sally smiled. “Have you ever heard ‘a penny saved is a penny earned’ and ‘make do and mend’?”

Ryan frowned.

“I might have, but it isn’t something my mates say much.”

“No, it wouldn’t be,” Sally agreed. “What it means is that if you don’t spend any money it’s as good as saving it.”

Ryan looked confused. “Instead of spending money on something new, you put it in a pot,” Sally explained.

“After a while you’ll have saved enough to buy something you want rather than frittering it away on things you don’t need.” Ryan nodded slowly. “So instead of buying a new rucksack, I put the money in a pot and use the one Dad was throwing away instead?” he asked.

“Exactly,” she replied. “Or mend yours to keep it going a bit longer. Anything not to spend money.”

“It seems a bit dreary,” he remarked.

“Not if we do it together,” Sally pointed out. “We could make it a competition. It could even be exciting.”

Ryan looked sceptical, but she plunged on.

“I’ve always wanted a tea set with red roses on like my mum used to have, but I’ve never bought one because I have enough cups and plates.”

She glanced around the kitchen at the mismatched crockery she’d collected over the years.

“If I save up for my tea set, you can save up for half your bike.”

Ryan nodded. “You’re on.”

Just to make sure they both stuck to it, Sally insisted on having two jars for the money to go into and a notebook to record what they’d saved and how.

They were also to meet once a week for updates.

“It’s going to take years,” Ryan groaned.

“No, it isn’t,” Sally replied. “You’ll be surprised.”

“The neighbours think I’m dotty,” Sally commented as she and Ryan sat at the kitchen table.

“But it saved me ten pounds and I’ve put the money in my jar.”

“Never mind what they think,” Ryan replied. “My mates thought I was mad wearing this, but a couple of the girls said it was cool.” He smirked.

“And it’s really warm, too. There may be more benefits to this than I thought.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being different from the crowd,” Sally added with a laugh.

Eventually Sally decided that perhaps it was time to tell Joan and Gordon what she was up to, in case they really did think she’d lost her marbles.

So the next time she saw them chatting at Joan’s front gate, she marched up to them, a big smile on her face, and invited them in.

“So that explains why you’ve been wearing trousers that look as if they’ve been made from an old duvet cover,” Joan commented after they’d heard Sally’s explanations.

“Yes!” Sally exclaimed. “Because they have. It was a set I’d had for some years. I always liked the purple and yellow flowers.”

“I thought they looked rather fetching actually,” Gordon said thoughtfully.

“I suppose that’s why you made that strange structure from bits of old pipe to hang the bird feeders on.”

There was a long pause while Sally wondered if she’d won them over.

“Do you know,” Gordon commented at last, “I think it’s rather a good idea.”

The next day all four of them sat round Sally’s kitchen table.

It had taken a bit of persuading to get Ryan to join in with the oldies, as he called them, but all seemed to be going well.

“I’ve brought my pot.” Joan rattled a tin with a slit in the top.

“Me, too,” Gordon put in, “I must say, this takes me back to when I was a lad and saving up for my first bike.”

He grinned.

“So what exactly are we all saving up for?”

“New bike,” Ryan answered promptly.

“A tea set with red roses on,” Sally added.

“A greenhouse,” Joan piped up.

“Cookery lessons,” Gordon finished, to everyone’s surprise. He turned to Ryan. “Before you go, let me look at your bike. I’m sure I can do something about those screeching brakes of yours.”

During the coming weeks Sally sometimes wondered what the neighbours further along the close must think of them.

Joan had been spotted on several occasions wearing a wide-brimmed hat covered in roses.

“Bought for a wedding yonks ago,” she explained cheerfully.

“And I’ve only worn it once. No point in buying a new one to potter around the garden.”

She’d also found a number of quite posh outfits in her wardrobe which hadn’t seen the light of day for years.

Several people had asked her if she was going somewhere special.

Gordon surprised them all by painting his front gate and fence in a rainbow of colours.

“Using up all the old paint in my shed,” he explained as he hitched up his trousers, which, they noticed, were held together by a piece of string.

Ryan reported that he’d been listening to the radio instead of downloading music, and found it quite informative.

Sally had used all the tins in the back of her cupboards and food in the bottom of the freezer, creating strange but tasty meals.

In seemingly no time the big day arrived when all four of them decided they’d achieved their goals and were ready to spend their newly acquired money.

“I shall miss it,” Joan mused as they sat in Sally’s garden sipping lemonade from mismatched glasses.

Even Ryan admitted it had made him a bit different from the rest of the crowd, and the girls seemed more interested in him.

“You first, Ryan,” Gordon prompted. “Buy your bike, ride it round and we’ll be here to cheer when you appear.”

He hesitated, looking slightly embarrassed.

“It’s been such good fun. I’ll miss the excuse to be a bit wacky and do things people don’t expect.”

Next day, Sally, Joan and Gordon waited in Sally’s garden for Ryan to arrive.

Sally had made homemade orange juice and a variety of cake in celebration.

“Here he comes!” she cried at last.

There was the frantic ringing of a new bell and Ryan appeared, sporting a snazzy bright green cycling helmet.

They all began clapping, but their cheers died as Ryan skidded to a halt on his old bike and smiled.

“What happened?” Sally cried. “Where’s your new bike? Didn’t you have enough money? Come in and tell us all about it.”

Ryan sat in the back garden, a glass of orange in one hand and a plate piled high with cake in the other.

“It was all going well,” he explained, “until last night when I went out for a final ride on the old bike and passed the Salvation Army hall.

“It was open and there were people queuing up for soup and sandwiches.” Joan nodded.

“They do it every week for people who are sleeping rough or don’t have enough to eat.”

“There was a boy there, not much older than me,” Ryan continued. “I looked at him and thought how lucky I was.”

He paused.

“What do I want with a new bike?

“Since Gordon stopped the brakes screeching there’s nothing wrong with this one.

“So instead of going to the cycle shop, I went back there instead and donated the money to them.” He grinned.

“I couldn’t resist spending a little on myself, though, so I got a new bell and this helmet.

“Wanting things is in a different category entirely from needing things.

“We’re so rich,” Ryan finished, “and we don’t even know it.”

There was a silence. “He’s right,” Gordon said. Joan nodded, looking as though she was about to burst into tears, whilst Sally swelled with pride at Ryan’s words.

Suddenly they were all talking at once.

“The cat rescue centre,” Sally said. “My mum loved her cat. I’m sure she’d rather I donate the money to them than buy a tea set.”

“Cancer research,” Gordon added.

“Greenpeace,” Joan put in, and suddenly they were clinking glasses and laughing as if they’d each won the lottery.

“Well, I shall continue using my mismatched crockery,” Sally said. “It could become a new trend.”

Ryan turned to Joan. “I can give your old greenhouse a really good clean,” he offered.

There was a pause before Sally and Joan both turned to Gordon.

“We’ll give you cookery lessons!” they cried in unison.

“Can I join in?” Ryan asked. “I’ve got used to hanging out with you guys and it’ll be useful for when I go off to uni.”

“Of course you can.” Sally smiled. “Maybe we could do this for charity every summer.”

“There’s one thing we’ve got that you can’t buy, and that’s friendship,” Gordon declared as they clinked glasses, feeling like the richest people in the world. ■