by Pamela Fudge
‘Recycling centre,’ Arthur corrected me.
‘Come round at about one o’clock and share a sandwich lunch and they can tell you about it themselves.’
‘All right, I will,’ he agreed, after fighting a very transparent battle with his pride. ‘I’d be cutting off my nose to spite my face not to even consider it, wouldn’t I?’
‘Absolutely,’ I agreed.
By the time he arrived, the guys had found the gap in the hedge and blocked it with a sturdy piece of wood. In a way I was sorry because I was already getting quite fond of the little black scrap of dog - and Arthur. I had to remind myself quite severely that soon I would be working and writing and would have to be more frugal with my time.
It didn’t take Stuart very long to convince Arthur that he would be doing them a favour by taking the old office furniture off their hands.
‘It might not be what you had in mind at all,’ he told the older man honestly. ‘It’s obviously good quality, but old fashioned and bulky. Everyone wants lightweight and modern these days. Why don’t you come round and have a look before you make your mind up?’
‘I’m a bit old-fashioned myself,’ Arthur said with a touch of humour, ‘and nothing in my house is lightweight or modern, so it should fit right in. I will accept your generous offer and be grateful for it. The room has stood empty since Rose died and her sister carried off the dressmaking gear. Well, it was no use to me, was it? Rose would be pleased to see it set to good use.’
‘Nice old boy, isn’t he?’ said Bill, ‘reminds me of my granddad.’
‘He’s very welcome to the furniture, but what, exactly does a man of that age want with an office?’ Stuart didn’t try to hide his curiosity.’
‘He’s one of your silver surfers and very computer literate,’ I told them, as proudly as if he was my own father – and, in fact, I realised I already felt closer to him than I had to my own father in many years. ‘He regularly Skypes his son’s family in Australia and, although I’m years younger, I’ve never Skyped in my life.’
‘Nor me,’ said Bill.
Stuart shrugged, ‘I suppose you have to have a family there to Skype in the first place. I don’t, do you?’
Bill nodded his head.
I was silent for a long moment, and then I confessed, ‘I do, but it would take more than Skype to make me want to talk to them,’ and then, for some obscure reason, I burst into tears.
Chapter Five
I couldn’t think what had come over me, getting all upset over a family I’d had no contact with in years, and I jumped up and rushed about clearing the remains of lunch away to hide my confusion. Bill, obviously embarrassed by such a display of emotion, couldn’t make himself scarce soon enough and quickly disappeared upstairs.
‘Are you OK?’ Stuart hovered, looking as if he didn’t know whether to bolt after his friend or stay and make some attempt to comfort me.
‘Oh, gosh, yes, I’m absolutely fine. I don’t know what in the world came over me. I haven’t even thought about them in years,’ I added dismissively.
‘Perhaps you should,’ he suggested before quietly leaving the room.
‘It’ll be all the upheaval, Evie,’ Arthur nodded, when I went round the following morning to see the office furniture that had been delivered by the boys first thing.
Dusty and a bit scratched it might have been, but I could tell that Arthur was thrilled. I looked up from where I had taken over the polishing of what appeared to be a solid mahogany desk with the real old-fashioned polish it so obviously deserved, and stared at him.
‘Moving house?’ I stared at him and, despite myself and my muddled thoughts, couldn’t help enjoying the sight of Arthur turning himself slowly in a huge office chair so grand that looked as if it might once have belonged in the Prime Minister’s office at number ten Downing Street.
‘That and the end of family life as you’ve known it for years. It’s been quite an upheaval for you.’ He stood up and went to slide open the drawer of a full-sized filing cabinet, and nodded his satisfaction. ‘This will be great,’ he said, ‘for keeping all my paperwork in one place.’
‘Lucky you, they’ve even left the hanging files in place so all you need is some labelled folders to keep things in order. I expect I’ll have to buy everything new.’ The duster I was wielding stilled on the bookcase that was presently benefiting from my attention, and I invited, ‘Perhaps you’d like to come to Staples with me and have a look around. You have your furniture – and very nice it’s starting to look, too – but you’ll want items like desk tidies. That’s the thing you keep your pens in, and there are all kinds of other useful bits and pieces you’ll never know how you managed without.’
‘I’m not going to know myself am I?’ Arthur’s blue eyes sparkled. ‘It’s given me a new lease of life having you next door, and you haven’t been there for more than five minutes. Don’t worry that I’ll be plaguing you all the time, though, because I know you’re going to be busy.’
‘It looks as if you’re going to be busy yourself.’ I indicated his own little office space all ready and waiting, and asked suddenly, ‘but who will you get to move your computer and set up the broadband connection again, Arthur, because it’s no good looking at me. I’ll be looking for someone to set me up once my study is completed.’
‘I’ll have to throw myself on Ian Baxter’s mercy,’ he said with a grimace, adding, ‘he’s the neighbour on your other side. He lives there with his wife, Tracey. A couple of what they used to call yuppies a few years ago. Something important in the city or so I’m led to believe. Always in a hurry, but he’ll do it with an air of martyrdom so that I’ll be left in no doubt of how precious his time is. He won’t charge, but I always give him a bottle of good whiskey and thank him effusively.’
In the end there was no need for us to throw ourselves on Ian’s mercy – a huge relief because I didn’t like the sound of him, and definitely hadn’t been looking forward to asking such a big favour of someone I’d never met. It seemed the setting up of my computer and would be done by an associate of Stuart, the cost being built in to the original price. He assured me that the same person would be only too happy to sort Arthur out at the same time for a bottle of good whiskey.
He told me all this when I returned home from Arthur’s to be provided with the information that I’d had a visitor in my absence – obviously Owen – who had a appeared none too pleased to have the door opened by one man, only to be advised that I had gone to visit another.
‘Ex, is he?’ Stuart asked sympathetically, adding, ‘I’ve had one or two, myself, with stalker-like tendencies.’
‘Not an ex, and hardly a stalker, just a good friend, so I’m not sure what his problem is at the moment, but I’m sure he’ll tell me eventually.’
‘Perhaps he wants to be more than a friend,’ he suggested, looking at me over the rim of his coffee cup.
‘I doubt that. We’ve known each other for fifteen years, so if he wanted anything to develop I’m sure it would have become apparent before this,’ I said firmly, and then changed the subject as Bill joined us.
With term starting in a few days I had other things to think about than what Owen thought he was playing at, and I certainly wasn’t going to phone and ask him. With no access to the files on my computer I resorted to pulling out the arch files holding my previous year’s lesson plans and schemes of work and made any necessary changes in pen. Luckily I kept plenty of copies of any course handouts so I didn’t have to do more than be sure I had a pile of the appropriate ones ready.
The classes were quite established now, the faces familiar, though there could possibly be one or two new ones joining us. I felt the usual flutter of nerves as I ensured my briefcase held everything that it should and then excitement at the thought of the news my students might bring. Even with only half a term behind them, it wasn’t too soon to have had a letter or article accepted for publication if they’d had the confidence to make a submission.
&nbs
p; Working with adult learners suited me admirably and encouraging other would-be writers kept my own enthusiasm levels high. Being part-time and working only term-time also gave me ample opportunity to turn my attention to my own writing and my small successes bolstered my income.
The thought of attempting a novel was daunting, but I had come to the conclusion that nothing ventured was nothing gained. I shouldn’t be giving that same advice to my students if I wasn’t prepared to take it myself.
The weekend passed without anything much of note happening and I found the house extremely quiet without the cheerful and industrious presence of my two joiners. I had steadfastly refused their constant offers to view the progress they were making upstairs and didn’t attempt to so much as peep around the door in their absence. Instead I made myself busy in the spare room downstairs checking the contents of the boxes labelled ‘office,’ ensuring those relating to computer hardware bore additional labels and were arranged close to the door ready for the guys to carry up ready for installation.
I was beginning to get quite excited at the thought of a brand new space that was all my own, after years of working at the kitchen table – despite Owen’s offers to turn one of the vacant bedrooms into a study. It hadn’t seemed worth the effort when it would be so temporary, so I always said that I could manage.
It made me a little sad to think of him, because in no time at all he had turned into someone I didn’t even recognise. I had been quite sure that even though we would be living separately, we would go on much as before, and had visualised us popping in and out of each other’s houses.
Well, I mused, I couldn’t say he hadn’t popped by, but he’d been so rude and belligerent each time that the thought of going anywhere near to his house was the furthest thing from my mind. I was reluctant to even pick up the phone – even after years of frequent daily contact between us that suddenly didn’t feel right at all. Every time my hand hesitated over the phone a vision of the last time I had seen him soon made me snatch it away.
Bored with my own company by the evening but not feeling inclined to cook, I popped to the fish and chip shop I had seen on the main road, stopping at Arthur’s on the way to invite him round to share the repast with me. He didn’t need inviting twice and followed me up the path when I arrived home with an excited Gizmo at his heels.
We each drenched our fish suppers with salt, vinegar and tomato ketchup and talked with our mouths full, not wanting the food to get cold.
‘Mmm,’ I mumbled, ‘I know some would say it’s probably bad for you, but I adore crispy batter and this is the best I’ve tasted in a long while.’
‘Never did me any harm or Rose either, ‘cos she lived into her eighties, you know, and we had used to treat ourselves most Fridays.’ He looked sad for a moment, and added, ‘It never tastes quite the same when you eat it on your own so I’m really enjoying this.’
We both looked up then as the doorbell rang.
‘Probably the Avon lady or someone collecting for charity,’ Arthur guessed.
I don’t know why, but I was taken by surprise to find Owen on the step, wearing a smile, his best suit and carrying a bunch of flowers.
‘Owen,’ I said, staring at him as if we’d never met before. In actual fact, I didn’t have to remind myself that this smiling Owen had been conspicuous by his absence of late.
‘I’m really sorry,’ he said humbly, thrusting the flowers towards me. ‘I don’t know what’s got into me lately. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you by letting me out to dinner tonight. You’re probably as fed up as I am of cooking for yourself.’
‘Urm,’ I hesitated but knew I had to go on and reject his offer, ‘apology accepted, but I’ve actually already eaten – am eating, in fact – but you’re welcome to come and join us.’
‘Us?’ he said, and as he spoke, Gizmo, who had been surprisingly quiet, burst into the hall and barked furiously round Owen’s feet.
A sneer that was becoming rather too familiar of late appeared on Owen’s face, and though he didn’t actually kick the little dog, he pushed him away with the side of one polished shoe.
‘Oh, I get it,’ he looked at me with such dislike that it quite took my breath away and I took a step back and snatched up the dog.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I demanded. ‘What do you get?’
‘That I’m already surplus to requirements. I don’t know why I’m even surprised, because the house seems to be full of men every time I come here. You’ll be getting quite a reputation, Evie.’ With that, he threw the bouquet at my feet and actually spinning on his heels made to stalk away.
For a minute, I wondered how many times that made in the short time I had lived here, and then I knew I wasn’t going to let it happen yet again. This time I was going to put him right.
I think he was shocked when I went after him and grabbing hold of his arm, wrenched him round to face me. ‘Not so fast,’ I said, sounding as furious as I felt. Standing behind him, and with my hand in the flat of his back I pushed him back towards the house and almost forced him through the front door.
‘Don’t,’ I ordered, ‘say one word. Just take the door on the left there and go up the stairs behind it.’
Total surprise must have made him do as I bid and he climbed the stairs in silence with me close behind him, still carrying Gizmo. In silence we surveyed the half-finished office.
‘Workmen,’ I told him, ‘two of them, and thank you for spoiling the surprise for me, because I had intended waiting until it was completely finished before I came up here.’
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, but he was obviously determined to have the last word. ‘A workman, is it - downstairs sharing your supper?’
By this time I couldn’t even speak because I was so angry, but pushed him back towards the stairs and followed him down them. When he would have turned to the front door, I caught his jacket sleeve and sent him towards the back of the house. He was brought up short by the sight of Arthur still enjoying his fish and chips from the paper. The sight of mine going cold made me even more furious.
‘Let me introduce you to Arthur. We’re not exactly and item. Arthur is my lovely next-door neighbour and Gizmo is his late wife’s dog.’ I smiled, and I knew it wasn’t a nice smile, ‘You - of all people - Owen, should know everything is not always what it seems. I would ask you to join us, but I wasn’t expecting you and we were enjoying them far too much to share. Weren’t we, Arthur?’
Arthur looked from Owen to me and then to the hefty portions of food still uneaten, but he wisely remained silent, just nodding a greeting towards Owen.
‘Don’t let us keep you,’ I snarled, and taking the hint, Owen muttered, ‘I’m sorry to have interrupted your meal,’ and turned to go.
I followed him to the door, which had been standing ajar all this time, waited until he was through it and then picked up the flowers and hurled them after him.
‘Take your peace offering with you,’ I advised, ‘and don’t come back until you can accept that what I do and who I see has absolutely nothing to do with you.’
I slammed the door so hard that it rattled and setting Gizmo on his feet, watched as he hurled himself against the door barking furiously.
‘Exactly,’ I fumed, ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself,’ and went back to join Arthur and a pile of stone cold fish and chips.
Chapter Six
The pleasure I was finding in my new home and the new life I had planned was being spoiled for me by an unreasonable Owen’s behaviour, and I didn’t think I could find it in me to forgive him.
Arthur pleaded with me not to be too hard on him, but I didn’t understand why he would choose to stick up for him and told him so. Owen’s conduct had been disgraceful since the day I moved in. I didn’t hesitate to tell him so on each of the several occasions he phoned after his most recent visit, attempting feeble apologies, simply putting the receiver down after treating him to a few choice words – and then feeling inexplicably bad about i
t.
The only thing that put a smile on my face was returning from work one day to find my smart new office completed and everything up and running – ahead of schedule, of course. Even that was tainted by the fact I had as good as been forced to view it half-finished just to prove to Owen that I wasn’t merely entertaining a houseful of men – and I would still like to know what business it was of his even if I had been. It was acceptable for him to be concerned, but not for him to behave like an outraged parent.
With the spare bedroom cleared of the boxes of stuff intended for the office, it eventually looked as immaculate as the rest of the house and the children - both Owen’s and mine – began to come to stay for an odd night when they could get time away from their courses - all except Alice. I comforted myself that it was already into November and she was bound to relent by Christmas, though she was very cool when I phoned her early one evening.
‘I know you would have liked Owen and me to stay together, but we can’t fall in love with each other to order, you know. If it was going to happen there’s been ample opportunity over the last fifteen years. Surely you wouldn’t expect us to stay together and maintain the status quo just for you children.’
‘But it wouldn’t just be for us, would it?’ Alice said, in what I was sure she thought was an extremely reasonable tone. ‘You surely can’t like living alone, either of you.’
‘Actually, I’m loving it,’ I said, and then wished I hadn’t when she said waspishly, ‘Well, you obviously don’t miss Owen or us either. That’s really nice to know, and there’s obviously nothing more to be said,’ before slamming the phone down.
I stood holding the receiver and felt like crying. I’d obviously failed my elder daughter in some way, but I didn’t quite know how. She was a grown woman and hadn’t lived at home for several years. I would have found the behaviour she was exhibiting more understandable in Mai, who was younger, had only very recently left home, and yet was far more accepting of the changed family circumstances.