'And I can't think why you suddenly started to come to bingo. Gambling - that ain't like you, Jenny Jervis.'
Miss Jervis simpered. 'Maybe I'm feeling lucky, Phoebe.'
'I feel fresh as a daisy today,' said Miss Jervis. 'Free as a bird.'
'Damned if you don't look it.' Mrs Berry cast an eye over the flowered dress, the gloves and the white hat with a hint of veil across Miss Jervis's brow. 'It's not a wedding, you know - only bloody bingo.'
'It pleases you to be blunt, Phoebe,' said Miss Jervis, 'but other people are not so unkind. Rosemary for one - although,' she added modestly, 'I still can't think why she has always been so nice to me.'
'Don't come that with me,' said Mrs Berry. 'You know well enough.' The bus came drifting along the waterside. 'And for God's sake help me up these blasted steps.'
Mrs Berry, unlike Miss Jervis, was fat and her hips were so bad she could hardly lift her feet. She handed over her stick before she grasped the handrail. 'And wipe that stupid expression off of your face, Jenny Jervis. The girl calls you auntie because she loves you, God knows why.'
Miss Jervis held the stick by the middle and kept it clear of the ground in case germs ran up it and into her gloves. 'I've only been doing my duty by the girl,' she said.
'Duty be blowed.' Mrs Berry's grunt was muffled in her fat bosom as she heaved her way upwards. 'Who cares about duty? - you don't, for one.'
'You are wrong there, Phoebe.' Miss Jervis regarded the broad rear end.
'I have a strong sense of duty,' she said.
'Squit! You have a strong sense of looking after number one - like the rest of us.'
'Here's your stick, dear.' Miss Jervis handed it over, and dusted off the tips of her gloves.
'And don't call me dear!' Mrs Berry had found a seat and was peeling the wrapper from a pack of king size. 'I'm not in a bloody rest home yet.'
The bus began to move, and Miss Jervis looked down into the river as it slid by.
'What are you smiling at?'
'Just thoughts,' said Miss Jervis.
'Once a schoolteacher, always a bloody schoolteacher. You're just the same as you was when you was a kid, Jenny Jervis. Anyone could've seen you was never really going to put that school behind you.'
'Don't get so cross with me, Phoebe. There's nothing wrong with being a teacher.'
'I love being with children,' she said.
'You never showed much sign of it.' Mrs Berry plugged a cigarette into her plump face and waved a flame at it. 'You never got married, did you? Never had no children of your own, never hardly got away from this village where you was born.'
'I was away at training college for three years, don't forget.'
'Training college.' Mrs Berry clicked her tongue. 'That must've been a riot.'
The rhyme sprang to Miss Jervis's mind and made her smile.
She looked out of the window.
Mrs Berry, who had been watching her from the corner of her eye, said, 'You can't tell me you girls didn't get up to some fun and games when you was away from home.'
Miss Jervis raised her eyebrows. 'We were training to be