by Ruth Hay
Corinne was also pleased her idea to name her children with the same initials as herself, had finally proved to be a help rather than a hindrance. It was the confusion over their identical initials that had caused such an upset between them when she had opened a letter intended for Carla and accused her of all kinds of infidelities.
She stretched and yawned. It was time to get up. Zoe was already at work. Carla had some time off this morning and mother and daughter would have lunch together at some fancy restaurant in the city.
Corinne was conscious she now had a reputation to maintain. She would have to take extra care to look the part. Journalists and paparazzi had found the two before when they were out and about. It would not suit Excelsior if their first mother-daughter pair was seen in less than suitable style. She could not wear the premiere clothes of course, but she now had a wardrobe of elegant outfits she used only in the capital. Back in Birmingham she was rarely recognized. Without her dazzling daughter she was just another face in the crowd. With her VON uniform on she donned another personality and few saw the connection. Occasionally she had a patient who was reading one of the magazine articles featuring the ‘CC couple’. Once she was present when there was a heated discussion about the appearance and fame of the pair in the photographs. Corinne just smiled and agreed with everything that was said. She maintained her privacy at home in Birmingham.
Yes, she thought. Home. Home today.
She had better pack now and leave a note of thanks for Zoe. She could also look to see what was in the fridge and make something simple for Zoe to eat when she returned. It was so little to do for a person who had made such a huge impact on her whole family. It was a relief to be spared the money worries that had dogged her and Arthur for most of their marriage. Although he was working in the office, rather than on the job site, the fact that he had been able to resume working had been a tremendous boost to his self-confidence. It was a part-time position for now, but that was also a good thing under the circumstances. Colin had been invalided out of the army two years ago. His physical wounds had healed with Corinne’s help. The mental strain and post traumatic stress had not been so easy to vanquish.
Once more Zoe had come to their rescue. Doctor Wesley was able to recommend a colleague in the Midlands who was experienced in PTSD. The sessions were costly but necessary to his recovery and Arthur proved to be a huge help. He had a natural sympathy with his son and since they had both been incapacitated in different ways it was possible for Colin to view his father as a fellow sufferer instead of ‘another bleeding heart civilian who had no idea what war on the frontlines in Afghanistan was like’.
Arthur’s last phone call had sounded positive. He and Colin had watched the TV coverage of the premiere with Brad. When she had asked how Brad was doing, Arthur stated he seemed to be fine. She promised herself to see Brad soon and get a better definition of ‘fine’. She would always feel regret at the way his marriage to Carla had ended. Carla believed that was all in the past now, but her mother needed to know Brad had moved on. It was the only way she could erase the guilt.
“Enough of these rambling thoughts! I have to move now or the day will be half gone before I get myself together.”
Her echoing voice sounded purposeful and it was sufficient to get her up out of the cozy bed and into a hot bath.
She had one hour before the taxi would arrive and take her off to lunch with her daughter.
Valerie Westwood was spending Monday evening with John’s family, as planned. She arrived just as Mei was unloading Jason and Davie from the large family car. They stood in the driveway while Mei apologized to Jean and Valerie for their late arrival due to a delay at the school pick-up point. Mei then thanked Jean for driving and assured her they would meet soon for a meal in their favourite Fusion Restaurant where they could catch up with all her news.
Valerie watched Jean drive off to see a movie with friends. By the time she turned around to follow Mei into the house, the boys had unloaded their school and sports gear, dragged their bikes out of the back of the car and stowed them in the garage. The routine went like clockwork. She wondered anew how Mei coped with the busy life she had. In Valerie’s day, less was expected of parents. Mei was a physiotherapist, working out of a sports centre. She helped heal sports injuries and had a large client list. Somehow, she found time to supervise a multitude of outdoor activities for her own boys as well.
John said their sons were practically addicted to climbing in The Hive Bouldering Gym (she had to ask what that was), and weekend family bike riding on the North Vancouver trails was a regular occurrence. She had looked sidelong at John when she heard this. He must have changed from the indoor-loving boy who had watched television and played video games in his childhood. Ah, the influence of a good wife!
Mei gave Valerie a careful hug and settled her down at the kitchen table so they could talk while she prepared a meal. Brandon came in to expertly chop vegetables for a wok which was heating on the stove. Mei stirred a family-sized crockpot where a fragrant mix of chicken and rice was cooking. Zane set the dining room table for six and Davie sat down beside Valerie with a homework assignment.
Valerie soon filled in Mei with the details of her recent Scottish tour. Mei was interested. She knew her mother-in-law had been born in Scotland and lived there during the early years of her married life. She also knew Valerie had trained as a teacher in Glasgow and shared a room in residence with Sandra, who became her best friend. She asked about the famous CC family and how the premiere had gone. Valerie soon got the impression that Mei was somewhat deprived of female conversation and relished the news about travel, fashion and films.
The conversation paused while Mei went to whip up a special dessert involving a number of ingredients that had to be added to the blender at exactly the right time, in a prescribed sequence.
Davie then asked permission to move to his basement bedroom so he could ask his grandmother about his school assignment. It was too noisy in the kitchen with the blender running and the living room was now occupied by the two older boys and their Xbox contest. Valerie happily agreed and she followed Davie downstairs and into a typically messy boy’s room equipped with a desk and chair and the ubiquitous computer. She sat on a comparatively clear corner of the bed
“Well, Davie, I am happy to help but what can I tell you that Google can’t?”
“Oh, Gran, you know computers don’t know everything, don’t you? My project is about Relationships for the new Health Education curriculum. You’ve lived a long time, right? I think you will know answers my parents don’t know.”
She couldn’t deny the age thing but she asked why he did not refer to his mother for this. After all she worked in the health field.
“Gran, it’s like this. I am the youngest, right? By the time Ma and Pa have listened to all that’s going on with Brandon and Zane, I am already in bed. And don’t even mention the car journeys! I can’t ask about love and marriage in the car in front of everyone. My brothers would laugh and I would be embarrassed. So, will you help me? Please. You know, Gran, I look the most like you and Pa. Have you noticed?”
It was something she had always been aware of but not something she would ever have brought into a conversation. A sensitive area perhaps? She did not want to find that out and cause awkward moments.
Davie was correct, of course. His older brothers were more like their mother in appearance. They were both handsome boys with straight, dark hair and fine features. Davie, named after his paternal grandfather, had inherited the Westwood fairer, wavy hair and bright hazel eyes that were a combination of his mother’s and father’s colours. She had always felt a special closeness to Davie because of this similarity. The sad fact was she had missed most of the early childhoods of his older siblings. Davie had been born when his grandfather, and namesake, had been seriously ill. Since his death Valerie had been able to visit Vancouver more often so she knew the youngest boy better, and he knew her.
“No problem, Da
vie! Fire away with your questions. I’ll do my best.”
He launched straight into the questions, hoping to get notes made before his mother called them for supper.
“What age were you when you got married?”
“I was 22.”
“Really? That’s very young. They tell us in school not to make those kinds of decisions too early.”
“Well, they are likely right about that, Davie. In my day, in Scotland, most girls just wanted to get married and have their own homes as soon as possible.”
“Why?”
“There’s not a simple answer. Things were different for young people in love.”
“You mean there was no birth control and sex made girls pregnant?”
Valerie gulped and looked into the innocent young face waiting for her reply. She began to wonder what the rest of the assignment might lead to and if she really wanted to find out.
“That’s certainly part of it. Also most families lived in small flats and there was very little room for each child. The oldest ones were expected to leave once they had jobs.”
“Did everybody get jobs right away?”
“Yes, although not everybody went to college and worked at a career.”
“Did you get a job as a teacher, Gran?”
“I did. I taught in the same school where I did some of my training.”
Davie scribbled in his workbook for a moment then asked, “Do you know, young people today don’t get jobs for years and sometimes they can’t find work at all? I think you were very lucky.”
“I guess you are right about that. At the time it was not unusual. Things have changed now.”
“What has changed, Gran?”
How to explain the world economy to an elementary schoolchild stopped her in her tracks. She searched her mind for a simple answer he might understand.
“You know the world population is getting bigger now?”
“Yes, seven billion plus at last count.”
“Other things are changing too. Like on a bus, for example. There used to be two people on each bus. One just did the driving and the other took money and gave tickets and helped people on and off if they needed it. Everywhere you go there are fewer people doing a job that once employed several.”
“I see what you mean, Gran. The man who collects our recycling, drives the big truck, lifts up the bins, sorts the stuff out and puts it into the right bins on the side of the truck. He puts our bins back on our driveway and then drives on to the next stop. That’s a lot for one person to do, isn’t it? Does he get more pay when he does so much?”
“Sadly, that’s another thing that is different. Manual labour is not paid well at all, Davie. This is why your parents want you to have a good career.”
He picked up his pen again and looked up to confirm his summary was correct.
“So, more people, fewer jobs, and less money. What about all the things computers do now? That has to make a lot of jobs go away.”
“Exactly, Davie! Now you see why it takes two parents working full time to keep your family going.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing mothers still have babies by themselves without computers getting into it.
You’ve been married a long, long time, Ma says. Is that a good thing for people to do?”
“It can be good or it can be bad. It takes a long time for a couple to really bond together, to know each other’s good and bad points and work to make the good points even better. Some couples can’t make it long enough to do that work, or they were not suited to each other from the beginning.”
“Reba, Josie and Ed in my class all have divorced parents. The teacher says combined families are common these days. I hope it doesn’t happen to me. It’s hard enough being the little guy in this family without other kids you don’t know suddenly horning in on your stuff and your space. That’s what Reba says about it.”
He looked back at his notes and Valerie wiped the tear that was gathering in her eye. She had forgotten the worries young children carried with them.
Davie dropped the pen and thought for a moment.
“Does this sound right to you, Gran? People should find the right person to marry but they should think about it first, even if the thinking takes a while. They should help each other to stay married and keep their children safe forever.”
“Oh, Davie, my dear, that is a very excellent way to put it. Well done!”
At this moment, Mei called them to say supper was ready. Davie went off to wash his hands and the interview was over. Valerie was relieved. They were beginning to get into deep water. She wondered what Davie’s teacher would make of his report. There was no telling which parts of their conversation would transfer to paper in the end. Valerie was glad she would be safely back at home in Ontario before she heard about it.
Tuesday.
Ian Halder had got into the habit of stopping by The Captain’s Arms on his way home from the city.
He knew it was becoming a problem when ‘stopping by’ for a drink after work became an excuse to delay his arrival at home.
At first he told himself it was a way to avoid any late departures from Sandra’s Children’s Care Day facility.
Sometimes an emergency arose and a parent could not collect a child until later than the six o’clock pick up deadline. He disliked returning home and finding the signs of the dual nature of his wife’s life strewn all over the living room and the conservatory. It was uncomfortable for him even if the kitchen area was cleared and the toilet and baby changing room was cleaned and closed. He preferred to think of the house as his own retreat rather than the messy business location as it had become since Sandra obtained her licence from the city.
His wife insisted she had down-scaled her original ideas and what she was now doing was only a small operation. He knew she worked hard. She clearly enjoyed the work and loved the service she was providing for young mothers who had to supplement their incomes. He knew she tried to limit the impact of their previously calm and quiet lives. He knew she was helping out their daughters. He knew all that. But when he sat at a table in the bar with his second drink in front of him, he knew he did not like any of it.
His Sandra had faded away and this new, purposeful, ambitious woman had taken her place. She woke early, hustled him off to work, dressed in attractive, child-friendly outfits, and met the day with the kind of happy smile he had once seen directed only at him.
Jealous?
He had to admit there was some of that. Joanne had accused him of a grumpy face when she left with her youngest last week.
“Dad, you’re too old to show a face like that. Mum’s a wonder and you should appreciate her more. She’s given me a job here. Rachel gets paid for looking after the accounts and Sharon has already reserved a place for her new baby. It’s all good!”
The trouble was it wasn’t all good from his perspective. And as the only male in this family, he was going to be outvoted if he even voiced a serious complaint. Not that he hadn’t tried; particularly in the beginning when Sandra had first hatched this plot to convert their home into a daycare business. He thought he effectively snowed her under with all the legitimate concerns and requirements the city demanded from a home-based operation. The list of applications and consultations would have discouraged most women, including his stay-at-home wife who had seemed, until then, to be quite content with her privileged existence.
He had underestimated Sandra. That was now clear. He placed a lot of the blame on those friends she had stayed with that week in the Lake District. How one short week could create such change in his wife was beyond his comprehension but there was no denying it had happened. He simply had to accept it and make adjustments.
At this point in his thinking process he always stopped and either sipped his drink or ordered another.
The buzz of conversation in the pub had dimmed as the men filtered off to their respective homes. He should be leaving too. He should be doing a lot of things but he felt stuck. His mal
e pride was damaged.
He had been the provider, the one whose needs were catered to, the one whose job had prestige, who travelled frequently and knew his home would be waiting and his wife eager to hear the tales of his exploits as he advised city planners in other towns. He missed the attention, it was true, but Sandra had transformed not only into a successful business person, she had transformed into a smart, slim, well-dressed, interesting companion. She was not only all this, she was a competitor and he did not like it.
The timing had been bad for him. As Sandy’s star rose, his was falling. The city planning department had begun a series of cost-cutting measures several years ago. Some support staff were dismissed. Conferences were conducted via the internet. Older employees were passed over for promotion in favour of a younger crew with new ideas and entirely different training backgrounds.
The old guard was becoming obsolete and he could see early retirement looming in his future.
He shifted around in his chair and loosened his tie. It was highly unlikely Sandra would close down her business now that she had the bit between her teeth, as it were. He could not envisage his retirement in a day care centre even if some of the children were his own grandkids. It was simply not possible.
They had never before discussed their retirement plans. It had always seemed too far in the future to be considered. Years had slipped by. Sandra had seemed to be content at home with her television shows.
He was happy in his career. The future would unfold in its own time.
Now that once distant time was fast approaching and Ian Halder was becoming increasingly worried.
Sandra Halder glanced at the kitchen clock and smiled happily. All the children had been picked up on time, the basic cleaning was done, she had a casserole in the oven and she would pop upstairs to wash and change before Ian arrived home. She looked over to the conservatory and saw that all the mattresses were stowed in the custom-built boxes Frank had designed. The children always helped put their toys in the bins stowed in the matching box and once the padded tops were down, the sunny conservatory looked neat and ready for the evening meal. She had found a handy, tall, wood table that folded flat against the wall for daytime and once opened, with the stools from the kitchen island rolled into place, it looked perfect as if it belonged in the space. Frank called the table a ‘gate-leg’ and commented on the good workmanship of earlier days.