Seven Days Beyond

by Ruth Hay

  The renovations she had deemed essential when she took possession had been minimal; a fresh coat of cream paint on the walls. New oatmeal-coloured carpet laid in the big living room. The couches from the Kilworth house fit into the scheme perfectly. She had the fireplace and chimney cleaned and a load of wood stacked in the garage for the winter. Once the bookshelves were filled with old and new favourites, she felt at home and shopped for new drapes and bright, sparkly cushions to liven up the space.

  In pride of place was the large painting she had commissioned by a local artist, of the deer on the edge of the forest slope. The artwork always had the ability to banish winter for Valerie and it reminded her of the day she had first seen the townhouse.

  On Rhonda’s recommendation she had used a cupboard in the ensuite bathroom adjacent to her bedroom, for an apartment-sized washer and dryer stacked on top of each other. When larger items required washing she used the previous owner’s standard set in the laundry room in the basement.

  Rhonda performed a weekly inspection of the two levels when Valerie was travelling and so far there had been no problems with dripping taps or invading mice. Valerie had decided not to install the chair lift although she had taken the precaution of looking up several firms in London who could do this quickly if, God forbid, it should ever be required.

  Her bedroom got a make-over with a new bed and all the matching custom soft furnishings in a delicate shade of green with a fern pattern that always lifted her spirits when she saw it in the morning light.

  She had spent the most time, and most money, on the little room by the front door, overlooking the walled garden. She did not want to duplicate Lynn’s pink bedroom at home so she pondered for some time over suitable décor which would transition with the child through the years. In the end she chose a primrose theme that looked so fresh she almost changed her own bedroom suite to the same colour.

  There was just enough space for a daybed with a polished rail on three sides equipped with a family of soft toys masquerading as pillows. There was also a comfortable chair for Valerie and a television on the wall concealed behind a picture frame for occasions when she might want a cozy room to watch a movie or for a popcorn and ice cream evening with Lynn. Her grandchild loved the room at first sight and dubbed it ‘Lynn’s Lemonade Lair’ and so it had remained with little alteration over the years.

  Valerie had been in the air for an hour or two when she turned her thoughts from the past to the future.

  This few days in Vancouver had been promised months before. It was a return visit to Jean with whom she had much in common. Both were widows whose husbands had died of cancer. Both had families living at a distance. Jean’s only daughter Jeanette McLennan, was well established in Oban with her solicitor husband, George and the two children, all of whom Valerie had met once, briefly, in Anna Mason Drake’s apartment in the Lake District.

  Valerie had often stated her two sons had moved to opposite sides of Canada, which was a slight exaggeration, but made the point that neither was readily available. She had explained to Jean, over coffee on her balcony overlooking English Bay, the reasons why it was such a treat to have an alternative place to stay when in Vancouver. John and Mei had a large and noisy home with their three boys and Valerie felt like an interloper in their frantic lives of school, games, practices, sleepovers, camping and debating everything under the sun at the dinner table whenever all of them could be assembled for that purpose.

  It was not a restful environment and, although Valerie had great respect and admiration for her daughter-in-law, Mei’s Chinese background placed a barrier between them and made a close relationship difficult. Mei was very close to her own family in Vancouver and it was not lost on Valerie that John’s sons had frequent contact with their Chinese grandparents and really did not need another grandmother so infrequently arriving on the scene.

  “It’s a problem in modern families,” consoled Jean, as she offered another delicious pain chocolat.

  “I certainly never foresaw my Jeanette travelling so far away and setting up a family in Scotland. I suppose I am lucky in that I know how happy she is with a wonderful husband, two delightful children, and a career in design. She looks after Anna Mason Drake’s Estate Farmhouse property when she is absent and she advises Fiona and Gordon where to get the antique furnishings they need from time to time.”

  As she recalled this conversation, Valerie remembered the advice Jean had offered. She said she Skyped often with Liam and Annette as a way to keep in touch with their lives. She also had a plan to bring the children to Canada on holiday as soon as their parents felt they were old enough.

  Valerie had a number of objectives on this trip including asking John to set up a weekly time for Skype. She knew this would require a portable device with which she could accomplish the link wherever she might be in the world. She was hoping John would assist her with this purchase.

  She also wanted to set an idea in John’s mind about sending one of his boys to college or university in Ontario. The education standards and facilities were familiar to him from his own schooling there and she would be happy to take a grandchild as a boarder now she was living in a central location for any education establishment he might choose. These were long term plans but she knew John’s family was not likely to make the flight to Ontario on a regular basis. Living costs in Vancouver were skyrocketing. Mei and John both worked full time to make ends meet and provide the best life for their family. She had felt a little smug as she revealed this plan to Jean. Her response had been comforting.

  “Well, Val, it’s not our fault the way things are today. Go back a generation or two and families lived together or nearby for their entire lives. I think you are right to try for a better relationship with your grandchildren. I mean to keep as much contact as I can with mine now that I have the freedom to do it.”

  Valerie thought back on this conversation and began to work out another angle in the plot to stay in touch.

  She would ask Jean what she thought about renting out her high-rise apartment with the fabulous view over the bay and the mountains beyond, with water craft coming and going all day. She had a bank of windows to the rear also and the view of the mountains there was equally spectacular. Valerie would be pleased to pay for the privilege while Jean was in Scotland. It should be equally easy to find short-term renters any time Jean was away. It was a popular trend nowadays as families wanted to avoid high hotel prices.

  With this decision made, she turned to the window and pulled her pillow up to ear level. She would catch up with her sleep and be fit to spend more time with Jean in the gorgeous surroundings of Vancouver.

  John Westwood spotted his mother as soon as she emerged from passport control. He waved, and she made her way toward him. He had just enough time to admire her new look. There was no doubt she had done something to improve her appearance since Dad died. She looked positively younger, in fact. He thought it was something beyond the hairstyle and fashionable clothes she wore. He concluded it was likely the new career she had taken up. There was a purpose in all her movements that indicated a new confidence growing each time she took a step.

  “Hi there, Mum! Don’t you look fine! How was your trip? I guess you’ve been in the air a lot in the last few days. I hope you aren’t overdoing it. Mei sends her love and insists we take you out for a meal, with your friend Jean of course. I’ll drop you off there now but we will see you tomorrow at the house. The boys are all anxious to talk to you. Brandon is very interested in the travel business and Zane is thinking about spending time in Ontario with you. Would you believe he’s found himself a girlfriend on Facebook and she lives in Mitchell?”

  Valerie handed over her case and put her brain on alert to try to capture all this random information coming at her at lightning speed. John worked in communications for a large advertising company on the west coast and he seemed to have acquired rapid speech skills as he grew older. The thought occurred that it was just as well he had found a cal
m, passive-seeming wife like Mei who, no doubt, kept him grounded.

  He had always been an active boy and that had not changed one bit. She grasped onto the last piece of his information. Hopefully, the rest of it would filter through to her later.

  “Zane is more than welcome to stay with me in his school breaks. How long has he known this girl? I have a teacher friend who lives in Mitchell. I could check out the family for you before this gets too serious.”

  “Oh, Mum! You are amazing! Sylvia goes to Fanshawe College and she seems to be intent on her future career. There’s no knowing how long this kind of thing will last. Kids today are fickle about their online connections. It could all be forgotten in a month.”

  She nodded in agreement with John’s conclusions, but privately thought it was fortuitous that one of her proposed objectives to ask about a grandson studying in Ontario had dropped into her lap with no effort whatsoever. She determined to have a quiet talk with Zane as soon as possible to sound out his level of commitment to this Sylvia.

  It was a beautiful day as only British Columbia could produce. John drove with the front windows open to the air which had that healthy combination of crisp, clean mountain and moist ozone from the sea. She took deep breaths and felt fatigue and worry fall away. She had completed a wonderful tour of Scottish castles. She had a brief time to reconnect with dear friends in London, England. She was fit to travel across the Atlantic and then across Canada. She had friends and family in so many places. Her life was so rich and meaningful now. David, who had set her on this course, must be smiling down on her from heaven in delight at her ability to seize opportunities as they presented themselves.

  “Carpe diem!”

  “What’s that, Mum?”

  “Oh, just something your father used to say.”

  “Do you miss him terribly?”

  “I think of him often, John, but he is in a better place now. That’s what I choose to believe.”

  “Well, he must be pleased with how you have coped, Mum. You’re an inspiration to all of us!”

  “Thank you, son.” She could barely get the words out without choking. Was there anything in the world more satisfying than the praise of your own child? It was as if John had been reading the thoughts in her mind.

  A comfortable silence resumed as they zoomed along the coast road. Seagulls were welcoming them to English Bay, gentle waves were lapping on the rocky shore. The bustle of ferry boats and yachts, full of families enjoying the outdoor pursuits of this gentle maritime climate, drew her eyes to the sea. With so much to do on land and sea, it was a perfect holiday centre and a lovely place to live.

  “Here we are, Mum. How long have you known Jean? She is a very lucky lady to live here with these views. She must be independently wealthy.”

  “I’ve only known her a few years, John, but we connected immediately, probably because we were both newly widowed. Jean and her husband had a beautiful property further down the coast which sold for a very good price. Like me, she wanted the cash to give her options for travel and other things. The condo apartment suits her needs very well. You and Mei should come and see my new townhouse in London and I would love it if you could join one of my guided tours to Scotland and learn more about your Scottish heritage.”

  “That would be superb, Mum! I’ll talk to Mei and we’ll see if we can start a fund for a trip with you. Once the boys are educated we would love to travel more. Mei has ancestors in China, of course, although all her living relatives are here in Canada now.”

  “I know it’s not easy, John. Don’t leave it too long.”

  “See you tomorrow. Have a great time.”

  “I will. Thanks so much for the ride and the time to catch up. Love you.”

  She reached over and gave him a hug and kiss, which was returned with a smile and a ‘Love you back again’.

  She felt a catch in her throat. That was how David had replied throughout his life. It was strange the things children adopted from their parents without really knowing the significance.

  She waved until the car had turned around and departed for home. She would use the house phone in the foyer and let Jean know she had arrived. Tea and sympathy on the balcony was surely awaiting her. She felt the fatigue of travel fall away and the excitement of a good, no, a great, start to the holiday fill her heart.

  Monday.

  Corinne Carstairs was well aware she was awaking to her final day in London. The excuse of the film premiere had been the perfect ‘get out of jail free card’ and, at the same time, a reminder of the many things she had to be thankful for.

  She turned over and lay on her back admiring the soaring ceiling above her. Dunstan Close was an amazing place for Zoe to live. The new residence had to be a sign of the changes she had made within herself, as well as those that were external. She smiled at that young woman’s long journey to get to here.

  Zoe’s breakthrough on that mountainside in Grasmere had been the start for her. The first steps were literally stumbling ones, as first steps often are. It had been Corinne’s strong shoulder supporting Zoe back down to paved ground. It was also the secure companionship of Valerie and Sandra allowing her to unburden herself of some of the secrets she had carried for years.

  With the benefit of hindsight, Corinne now wondered if the accident had not happened, and Zoe had not felt her own vulnerability, would she have been in the happy position she found herself in today?

  It was certainly a good time for Corinne to consider the benefits to her own family brought about by their association with Zoe.

  Carla was the main beneficiary. Her entire career was due to the intervention and supervision of Zoe Morton. From Corinne’s first frantic phone call to Valerie asking for her help, to the generosity of Zoe’s response in allowing an unknown girl to move into her very private loft apartment, Carla had been so fortunate. It was all because of that holiday in the Lake District and the brief, but significant, contact between Carla’s mother and Zoe.

  None of Carla’s success would have been possible without the major assistance she had found in her mentor. Not only had Zoe set Carla on the right track, she had actually found her paid work at modelling while she was training for her future career. The photographic work she had done for Anton, one of Excelsior’s employees, had first made her known to the public. Corinne had a collection at home of all the campaigns and billboards Carla had starred in but she could never have imagined Carla’s face could lead to her own involvement in the advertising business.

  She would never forget the first time Zoe had called her about this unlikely prospect.

  The whole conversation was carved into her memory and she could recall it perfectly.

  “Corinne, it’s Zoe. I have a proposition for you.”

  “For me? Don’t you mean Carla?”

  “Well, this does involve Carla, but I need you to agree to a new campaign I want to promote.”

  “You don’t need my permission. Carla is well able to decide for herself, thanks to you, Zoe.”

  “I am not making myself clear. I want to feature mothers and daughters in this photo campaign for Excelsior products.”

  “You mean you want me in a photo shot with Carla? Why?”

  “You remember how I gave all you ladies a make-up session that day in the Ambleside apartment? I know your skin type and your colouring and I realize you are a contrast to Carla. I think this would make an interesting initial impetus to my campaign focusing on skin care for the more mature woman. At the beginning the public will not believe you two are related so the publicity will start from there. It would mean interviews in magazines and more photographs. That equals more publicity and more exposure for you.

  How do you feel about this? I would work around your current work commitments, of course.”

  Corinne had needed a few moments to catch her breath and process all this information. Her excitement factor was immense immediately, and that had not diminished when the campaign got underway in earnest.
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br />   Of course there was the stumbling block of the Botox injection to be overcome. Zoe insisted her frown line between the eyes was a badge of honour because of her years of hospital nursing and she should not feel embarrassed by a small cosmetic improvement that was common among modern women. In the end she agreed to have it done on a once, and once only, basis.

  The single treatment had actually worked well. Privately, Corinne thought her much happier work and home situations were more responsible for the smooth forehead than any chemical could be.

  She grinned as she thought of it, and reached up with a finger to check that the effect was still there.

  There were other benefits to the association with a major company. Free make-up for life was one, but the best had to be the time she spent with her daughter in and out of the studios. Carla was the leader in this, which was a substantial change from their usual, abrasive, former interactions. She had the experience and knew most of the expert personnel so the sessions were fun as well as financially rewarding.

  The addition of these campaign shots to her collection of photographs was a mind-blowing thing for Corinne. Zoe had, of course, been right. Carla’s beautiful long red hair, pale skin and ice blue eyes were captivating. Her look contrasted with her mother’s darker hair (now styled, longer, and with a touch of an auburn rinse,) also with her darker eyes, and more mature look.

  Zoe had insisted the common factor was their pale, undamaged skin. She had asked the hair stylists to part Corinne’s hair to reveal the widow’s peak she had been concealing with her former spiky hairdo. Everyone had declared this to be the master stroke that proved the relationship. It had started a whole new focus on celebrities who were fortunate enough to have what was soon called the CC distinguishing mark.