A Helping Hand

By Anna Carey

Illustration: Shutterstock

UPLIFTING SHORT STORY WRITTEN BY ELLIE HOLMES

Who would imagine that such a simple system could help resolve so many people’s problems?

Charlotte Fisher paused in her task of deadheading the roses and placed her secateurs in the trug on her arm. “You picked a good day to re-lay the patio, Mike.”

Her neighbour smiled and nodded.

“Yep. Finally getting it done.”

“You’ve certainly been talking about doing it for a while.”

“Too long,” he admitted. “Trouble is, it’s just too much for me nowadays. The mind’s willing but the back and the knees aren’t so keen.”

Charlotte laughed.

“I know how that feels.”

“That’s why it’s so handy that I’ve got this lovely young couple in to do it for me. Young backs don’t feel the strain so much, do they?”

“Good of them to help out.”

“It’s a quid pro quo, as you might say. They’re renovating Gardenia Cottage on the edge of the village, but they don’t have the skills to do it. Being a retired builder and decorator, I’ve got the knowledge so…”

“You help them and they help you,” Charlotte said. “What a fabulous idea.”

“It’s all because of Susie in The King’s Head. She’s created a timebank.”

“A timebank? Very Doctor Who-ish.” Charlotte raised her eyebrows.

Mike grinned. “Now that would be something, a time portal! But in its own way the timebank is equally brilliant. You fill in a card saying what you want help with, and another card saying what skills you have that you could pass on to someone else, or what work you’d be willing to do for someone. Susie then matches the cards up.”

“Like a dating agency, then.” Charlotte smiled.

“It is a bit, yes. Sometimes the person you help is the person who then helps you. Sometimes you help someone completely different but then you have banked the time you spent helping them, to spend on the thing you need assistance with.”

“What a clever idea.”

“Susie arranges for everyone to meet in the pub so it’s a safe, neutral space. You wouldn’t want complete strangers pitching up at your doorstep, after all.”

“No, quite.”

“Everyone wins. On that note, I’d better get back to my trainees.”

Charlotte picked up her secateurs and returned to the roses. When she’d finished, she turned and surveyed the rest of the garden. The space was becoming a little too much for her nowadays. Maybe she should pay a visit to the timebank.

The following day, buoyed by her conversation with Mike, Charlotte met up with Susie.

“I love my garden and I manage well enough, but there are some jobs that are just too much for me now. I’ve never thought of asking for help or getting someone in, but my neighbour was so positive about the timebank that I’ve decided to give it a go.”

Susie nodded. “Gardening is a popular theme at the timebank. So, what could you offer to someone in return?”

“Well, I used to work as an accountant so I’d be happy to help someone with their books or teach them how to do it.”

Susie grinned. “That’s great! We haven’t got anything like that on offer at the moment. I’m sure you’ll be popular.”

Charlotte pinned the cards up on the Giving and Receiving boards.

“What happens now?” she asked.

“I’ll let you know as soon as we have matches for one or both of your cards, then I’ll invite you both here to meet for the first time. After that, it’s up to you whether you want to go ahead or not. No pressure, either way.”

The call came more quickly than Charlotte had been expecting.

“I’ve got a young lad called Mason. He wants to start his own gardening company and while he has the horticultural knowledge, he’s nervous of the paperwork side of things. I think you’ll be a perfect match.”

The meeting in the pub the next day turned into lunch as Charlotte and Mason discussed their love of nature and gardening. Working together quickly became a no-brainer, as Mason put it, and he started work in the garden that very afternoon.

“I’ve been wanting to get that old shrub dug out for so long,” Charlotte said as she handed him a mug of tea.

“Yep it needs to go. It’s spoiling an otherwise lovely area. You could expand the fernery.”

“That’s a good idea. How soon would you like to start on the paperwork?”

Mason pulled a face.

“I’m dreading it, to be honest. I love the idea of being my own boss but the paperwork scares me.”

Charlotte smiled. “It’s just the unknown. So long as you follow what I show you, the tax police aren’t going to come along and lock you up.”

“I just worry about getting something wrong, you know? I wasn’t that great at school but I don’t want it to hold me back, now I know what I want to do.”

“We won’t let it! I’ll give you the skills you need, I promise.”

Charlotte had baked a Victoria sponge for their first Saturday afternoon session on figures. Mason arrived clutching a notepad and nervously playing with the zip on a pencil case.

“You look like you’re going to a funeral!” Charlotte commented. “Not about to learn an exciting new skill.”

“Sorry – I’m sure you’re going to be a great teacher. I just don’t have the same faith in my ability to take it all in and put it into practice.”

Charlotte cut him a generous slice of cake. “Just remember, there are no stupid questions. Ask anything. And don’t worry about asking something more than once. It’ll take time but we’ll get there. We can go over things as many times as you need.

“I owe you hours for all the hard work you’ve already done in the garden and there are several more jobs that I need doing, so we have plenty of time on both sides.”

Mason took a deep breath.

“I hope I don’t let you down, that’s all!”

“Now, none of that! You’re going to be absolutely fine. Let’s start with the basics. Did you bring your receipts like I asked you to?”

Mason nodded, producing a crumpled fistful from his jeans pocket.

“And you’ve got a laptop at home, yes?”

“Yep.”

“So, we’ll create a few Excel spreadsheets for you to record everything on. These will be your templates and I can email them over to you so you can have them on your laptop. Now, stop looking so worried!”

They spent six weeks working together. By the halfway point, Charlotte was doing little more than observing and occasionally commenting as Mason did his weekly figures. By the end, the transformation in his confidence was a joy for her to behold. The boy who had been frightened by the very idea of doing accounts was now embracing the work and taking pride in his new-found ability to do it.

In return Mason had finished all the big jobs Charlotte had needed tackling in the garden and had started making general maintenance visits instead.

“I never thought this would be possible, you know,” Mason said.

“I know – I’ve never seen someone look as worried as you did.”

“Thank you, Charlotte. I know I’ve helped you out, too, but what you have done for me has been so massive. Life changing, really.”

“That’s the beauty of the timebank,” Charlotte said. “What seems massive to one person is easier for someone else and vice versa.”

Mason nodded.

Well, I’m very grateful. I feel ready to properly give it a go now without being scared.

“So, I guess our time at the timebank is over now, then.”

“Yes. Sad in a way. I’ll miss our chats and your beautiful garden.”

Charlotte laughed. “Don’t think I’m letting you go that easily, Mason! I’m more than happy to pay you for your work in the garden from now on. The garden hasn’t looked this good in years. I want you to keep it up.”

“If you’re sure,” Mason said. “But no way am I charging full price. Mates’ rates.”

“I’d be happy to accept. And if you are unsure of anything figures-wise in the future, you only have to ask.”

“Well, I might need some help with my first year-end and the tax forms,” Mason admitted.

“It’ll be my pleasure to go through them with you.”

“Thank you. You really don’t know what that means to me.”

“Next step is to build your business. Get more clients on board, not just for one-off jobs but return maintenance visits like mine.”

“Absolutely. I can’t live at home with Mum and Dad forever. I need the business to turn a profit so I can live off it.”

“I might be able to help with that. I’ve been singing your praises to all my friends at the WI and the Knit and Stitch Club. The one thing they all have in common is they all have gardens. And in the case of Mary Finch and Abigail Crosby, massive ones.

“I’m thinking of inviting everyone to a garden party in a couple of weeks’ time to celebrate my birthday. I’d like you to be there – firstly because you are now a friend but secondly, and most importantly, I can introduce you to all the lovely ladies in my circle. They can see what a beautiful job you have made of the garden and with a plentiful supply of tea, cake and the odd glass of Prosecco, we might be able to get a few of them to sign up.”

Three weeks later Charlotte surveyed the scene. The garden was looking at its finest, a colourful array of flowers, cooling green ferns in the newly extended fernery, the trees in full leaf and colourful bunting – a thoughtful addition from Mason – strung around the trellises giving the garden a carnival feel.

Blessed with sunshine and with plenty of areas to sit and enjoy the space both in the sun and in the shade, the garden was buzzing with a dozen different conversations as family and friends helped themselves to the food laid out on a table in the gazebo and drank wine and tea.

Susie from the King’s Head smiled and waved. “Another triumph for the timebank, I see,” she said.

“Such a great idea,” Charlotte said. “Everyone is talking about it. It’s helped foster such a wonderful community spirit and it’s bringing people together who wouldn’t otherwise have met – like young Mason and I, for instance.”

“I’ve got him doing the hanging baskets at the pub now,” Susie said. “And I know the vicar wanted a word with him about the maintenance of the churchyard now Mr Smith is retiring.”

“I”ll let Mason know. He’s keen to build his business. Speaking of which, it’s high time I got him out from behind that barbecue and mingling!”

It was mid-evening by the time the party wound down and Mason helped Charlotte ferry trays of glasses and china into the kitchen.

“I”ll load the dishwasher for you, if you like,” he volunteered.

“Thank you. I meant to ask, did you speak with the vicar?”

“I did. I start on Monday.”

“Excellent.”

“I also have appointments with seven other people including Mary Finch and Abigail Crosby. I really am so grateful to you, Charlotte. Greenfingers would not be such a success without you.”

“You’re very welcome, my dear,” Charlotte said. “After all, that’s what friends are for.”