Stranger Still

by Marilyn Messik

  “Sweetheart, I didn’t tell you, because I know how you worry, but honestly it’s fine. Look, you go straight home, pop dinner in the oven for us, it’s all ready. I’ll catch a cab so I won’t be in long after you. All sorted.”

  Actually it wasn’t all sorted. Trevor wasn’t angry, of course he wasn’t, but he’d found the best way to deal with the fairer sex, bless their hearts, was to remain calm but firm, clearly explaining the reasoning behind any decision. This time though, that ruddy Brenda woman had interfered, she was a bad influence on his Joy. No matter, he reassured himself, in a loving relationship, self-control was essential so he’d follow that ridiculously cumbersome car, full of misguided women. Then he’d take Joy home and they’d talk things over. Their marriage worked so well because they did have rules and agreements. Once any of those went by the board, the order of things was disrupted, and disruption, like anger, did no-one any good in the long run.

  In my car, heading for home, all three of us were quiet but for me with my current diminished control over my mental shutters, quiet didn’t equate to silence. On the contrary, Brenda was loudly going through the list of things she’d do; starting with getting me into bed, whether I liked it or not. She wasn’t sure what time David got in, but she’d not leave until he did, meantime should she ring my Mother? She didn’t want to give her a fright. She also wanted to check, without alarming me in any way, that my hospital bag was packed, just in case the fall had set anything off.

  Joy was concentrating on the driving; it was something she enjoyed and she was good at. She’d lost a certain amount of confidence because she wasn’t doing it as often as previously. When they went out, Trevor insisted on taking the wheel, a man’s job he’d said with a loving kiss on the forehead, her job was to relax, look lovely and watch the world go by. She hoped he wasn’t too upset; Brenda could be a bit bossy and Trevor hated bossy, but perhaps she herself hadn’t handled it as well as she could, but then Trevor always told her laughingly, she’d not been around when they were handing out tact. On the other hand, if she’d not done her bit in getting me home and something went wrong with the baby, she’d never have forgiven herself. She’d apologise to him properly when she got in and make custard to go with dessert, Trevor loved home-made custard.

  “This turning Stella?” she asked.

  “Yes, it’s number 1, but it’s right down at the end, near the park. Thanks so much for this Joy.” She took her hand off the gear stick and gave my knee a companionable squeeze.

  “Don’t be daft. Just don’t give us another fright like that.”

  “Too right,” Brenda chipped in from the back, “nerves won’t take it; I’ll end up like your Mother-in-law.” We laughed, Laura had a tendency to start violently at the slightest unexpected noise, this made everyone else jump too – bit like a disjointed Mexican wave going round the room.

  David wasn’t home when we got there and Brenda, after a brief but spirited discussion about bed, gave in and let me stretch out on the sofa instead, insisting on a blanket over my legs which I accepted in a spirit of compromise. As she headed for the kitchen, I said I honestly didn’t think I could drink more tea, but she said she was going to make it anyway, then perhaps we’d phone my mother, keep her up to speed. She added casually, we might as well also go through the stuff I’d packed for hospital, check I had everything there, not that it’d be needed yet but it never hurts to be ahead of yourself. I said I hadn’t packed yet and she sucked in a small breath and said well now was as good a time as any, wasn’t it?

  I knew when I was beaten and in truth, wasn’t feeling too clever. I didn’t think anything was wrong baby-wise, it was more the inundation of thought I was having trouble shutting out. As if that wasn’t enough, amidst the cacophony were some lines I must have heard somewhere, they were circling round and round in my head and giving me a headache. I put both hands over my ears, which of course achieved nothing, other than alarming Joy.

  “Stella?” she said and Brenda was out of the kitchen in a flash.

  “Just a bit of a headache,” I said.

  “What sort of headache?” Brenda wanted to know.

  “Nothing to worry about, honestly, often get them. The midwife said if they’re really bad, I can take a couple of paracetamol tablets, but I’ll wait and see, sometimes it goes on its own.”

  The doorbell rang and Joy went to get it, accompanied by Kat, who liked to keep an eye on comings and goings. It was Trevor, and we heard him insisting he wouldn’t leave until he’d checked there wasn’t anything he could do for me.

  “You drove very well dear,” he said to Joy, as they came into the room. She smiled with pleasure; she knew she had but it was nice to have him say it. I hoped Brenda would keep her mouth shut, should have known better.

  “She’s an excellent driver.”

  Trevor smiled warmly, “Indeed she is - when she concentrates and doesn’t get distracted by pretty things in shop windows,” he laughed and put his arm round her, “isn’t that right darling?” Brenda caught my eye; I shook my head slightly and she busied herself tidying some magazines on the table. The tension between Brenda and Trevor was palpable; these were two people who did not like each other one little bit, although her thoughts were a lot less complicated than his. She’d come across his type time and again, could chew him up and spit him out without missing a beat, saw and hated what he was doing to Joy and itched to do something about it.

  He knew her type too and usually steered well clear. It wasn’t that he couldn’t give as good as he got, it was the pointlessness of having to. Why waste his valuable time on a stupid woman who thought she knew better than he did? Joy was fond of her but then Joy was a soft touch for anyone who gave her a smile, and sometimes needed a word here and there, to keep her on the right track.

  He turned to me, “Stella, is there anything more we can do before we head off?” I smiled and shook my head, but his last thought had annoyed me. I spoke to Joy and yes I did it deliberately and no, I shouldn’t have.

  “Thanks so much Joy for stepping in and getting me home. You know, I’m not going to fit behind that wheel much longer, you might be doing lots more toing and froing, will that be alright?” she moved away from Trevor’s arm and bent to give me a swift hug.

  “You know it will; whatever you need.”

  I raised my arm to hold her too. “We all throw a lot of stuff in your lap, but you do know we couldn’t manage without you?”

  “Oh shut up will you, all those hormones are making you sloshy,” she laughed, but she was pleased. Trevor took a step forward to take her elbow.

  “I’m a lucky man,” he said fondly, “don’t think I don’t know it. Now best be heading off,” he paused, “did you give Stella the car keys back?”

  Joy nodded, “On the hall table.”

  “Are you sure darling? Didn’t see them when I came in?”

  “I’ll get them Stella, so you know exactly where they are.”

  Trevor smiled indulgently, “Forget her head if it wasn’t screwed on.” Joy was back in an instant, worried.

  “I swear I put them there.”

  “Not to worry,” I said, “can’t be far.” Too right they weren’t. I knew exactly where they were, how they got there and why.

  Trevor, who did indeed deeply love his wife and consider himself a lucky man, nevertheless felt for her own good, the occasional misstep was not a bad thing. In the same way exercise was good for the heart, exercise was good for the mind; brain-training he called it, the occasional harmless manoeuvre strengthened efficiency and taught people to check and double check and thus avoid similar happenings. He used this often in the office, worked wonders for some of the daft girls he’d had working for him over the years. The best thing was he never had to plan it; opportunities just arose. Now he shook his head gently.

  “I bet you automatically slipped them in your handbag, silly bean.”

  Joy frowned, “Of course not, why...”

  “Humour me Joy, I e
xpect Stella wants us out of her hair now. Now, where’s your handbag?

  “Outside in the hall.”

  “No, it’s not, look it’s here. Honestly my darling, what are you like?” he picked it up from the floor beside the sofa and handed it to her. The keys should have been lying near the top, where he’d put them as he brought the bag in unnoticed. They weren’t, because I’d lifted them out and put them on the floor under the hall table.

  “Brenda,” I said, “be a love, pop your head out, if Joy put them on the table, they most likely got knocked off when we dumped those files.” Brenda was back in a few seconds with the keys.

  “Mystery solved,” she said. Joy relieved, stopped rummaging through her bag.

  “And you did leave your bag in the hall,” I said, “I picked it up and brought it in here, thought it was mine, it’s me who’s the daft one.” I smiled warmly at Trevor, ‘put that,’ I thought, ‘in your brain and train it!’ But smug didn’t last long. It never does.

  It seemed that what was sauce for the goose wasn’t so great for the gander. Trevor knew he’d put the keys in the handbag and because his confidence had never been eroded by anyone, he had no doubts. He therefore jumped to the only possible conclusion; it couldn’t have been me because I’d been on the sofa the whole time, it was that that bloody Brenda. Must’ve spotted him with the bag and taken the keys out. That there was precious little logic, and even less likelihood in that, didn’t seem to strike him but in his head, behind the smile and gentle joshing, something stirred.

  Brenda didn’t know quite what had been going on, but she saw and sensed his discomfiture and couldn’t resist.

  “Now who’s a silly Bean?” she enquired cheerfully, and Joy laughed. From behind the rigid day-to-day control in Trevor’s head because, after all, control of himself as much as others was what he was all about, something was seeping. I felt it, wasn’t sure what it meant, did know it was my inability to leave well alone that had possibly prompted it. With a swift apology to the baby, who’d had quite a day of it, I rolled gently off the sofa which was luckily quite low.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Distraction is always effective and in the general fuss and consternation - getting me off the floor, back on the sofa, re-covered with the blanket and renewed ambulance discussions, the tension in the room and in Trevor dissipated. Then my parents arrived, Brenda having called and whilst they were having events fully explained, David arrived home.

  If he was surprised to find our small living room busier than Piccadilly Circus on a Saturday night, he adapted swiftly, took charge and proposed a compromise. As I was insisting I didn’t want to head off anywhere in an ambulance, he phoned the number Mavis had given me and although she herself wasn’t on duty, one of the other midwives was reassuringly unbothered.

  “Easy to misjudge size and weight of tummies at this stage so it is, she probably lost balance for the minute. But you know, Baby’s ever so well cushioned in there, won’t have felt a thing.” Nudged urgently from either side by Brenda and my Mother, David asked about hospital.

  “Not at all, only if something’s going on,” she said.

  “Anything going on?” he repeated looking over at me, I shook my head, presuming she meant with the baby, as opposed to all the other complicated areas of my life.

  “There you are then pet,” she said comfortably when the news was relayed, “bed, warm drink, feet on a hottie, good night’s sleep, right as rain by morning.” It seemed the emergency wasn’t too much of an emergency after all. I’d been planning to stop work within the next week or two anyway, I could still do quite a bit from home, but once again there were people busy talking over my head, and the general consensus was for the sake of everyone’s nerves, maternity leave should start sooner rather than later.

  I was watching and listening to Joy and Trevor as they said their goodbyes. If I’d been disturbed at the changes in Joy, having now seen them together, I was even more worried. I shouldn’t have done what I did with the keys, there was no doubt that together, Brenda and I had poked the bear, which as anyone with common sense knows is not a clever idea, but I understood a lot more now.

  They were in balance as a couple, if it stayed that way and both were content, it was nothing to do with anyone else. There was no doubt Joy adored him. She was an intelligent woman who’d made decisions; he had his funny ways, but who didn’t? And if keeping him happy meant following those routes and rules he preferred, that didn’t bother her overmuch. Trevor indisputably loved her too, it was his pleasure to spoil her with gifts, surround her with little luxuries, guide her when he thought she needed guidance. He was pleased and proud of the way he was shaping her to be the best person she could be in every possible way. It was a happy, relationship which would last - as long as the status quo did, but it was built on a fragile foundation.

  Earlier, searching for the keys because Trevor naturally assumed if something silly had been done, it was she who’d done it – Joy had felt humiliated, shown up in front of me and Brenda. She hadn’t liked that, especially as it turned out not to have been her fault at all. Trevor wasn’t always right! And with that thought, and from behind the barriers we all put up to channel our thinking along routes we want, there was irritation. If I felt concerned about Joy before, it was nothing to what I felt now and what made it worse was worry that I’d allowed my view of right and wrong to colour hers?

  That wasn’t the only thing playing on my mind; sipping yet more tea on the sofa with all sorts going on above and around me, I was still mulling over why I fell. I wasn’t much the wiser for thinking, but what had come back to me was what I’d heard, not that it clarified anything. It was that ruddy bloody rhyme, the rhythm of which churned continuously in my head, but now I had some words too, ‘I wish, I wish, I wish I knew, exactly what to do with you?’ Could it be that I was just rehearsing rhymes for the possibly choppy waters of parenting, or was this something else altogether?

  * * * *

  The new regime, or as everyone persisted in calling it, maternity leave, started immediately even though we were only halfway through November and nothing was due to happen for four or five weeks. Despite being constantly in touch with the office and having lots of work to do at home, I’d wondered whether I’d feel a bit cut off but as it transpired, that was the least of my worries because the nearest and dearest wasted no time in setting up an informal rota, which pleased David no end. It meant people were always popping in unexpectedly, bearing chicken soup, smoked salmon sandwiches with the crusts cut off, pastries or similar goodies and more often than not, someone forgot the exact time they should be ‘popping in’, which meant two or three people arrived at more or less the same time and the sort of well-catered, convivial atmosphere that had always prevailed in the office, simply continued at my home.

  I wasn’t worried how well Simple Solutions would function without me; Aunt Kitty had an eagle eye on the accounts and on the odd occasion credit chasing was needed, seized the moment with delight. Brenda had an equally fierce focus on work coming in and work going out and after all, I was only at the other end of the phone should I be required - or as I came to realise - every time it occurred to one of them that they should call with a query, to reassure me I wasn’t now superfluous to requirements, which was really very thoughtful.

  I was still having bad dreams, couldn’t really remember them when I woke but knew they hadn’t been fun. They left me drained and apprehensive, adding to the background discomfort I still felt when I thought about Ruth and as with a sore tooth, I thought about her a lot. That wretched two-line rhyme was also still doing the rounds in my head and that made me uneasy too. Apparently the best thing to counter an earworm is another earworm, so I went with ‘I do not like thee Dr Fell, though why that is I cannot tell.’ It was from way back, when my Mother used to walk me to school, and needed to divert my mind and keep me grounded - flying would have got me there quicker, but might have caused consternation at the school gates, so we ad
opted Dr Fell and took turns chanting as we walked. I thought he’d helped then, maybe he’d help now.

  * * * *

  I left it a couple of weeks, before I spoke to Boris again, I wasn’t thrilled with how our last chat had gone, apart from which it wasn’t easy to find a time when I was on my own. In the meantime, I’d been scouring the daily delivered paper and was relieved to find no odd happenings were reported - well, at least nothing I felt might be Devlin related. When I did get hold of Boris, he waded in with questions before I had a chance to voice any of mine.

  “How are you?” he said.

  “Fine thanks.”

  “Any changes?” Did he, I wondered aloud, mean the swollen ankles I couldn’t see anymore, or the industrial size bump which was why I couldn’t see them?

  “I meant,” he said patiently, “have you heard anything from the baby?”

  “Nope, no call, no letter, not even a lousy postcard - kids huh?” Boris was unamused, and I remembered I wasn’t just phoning for a bit of light banter.

  “What happened about Devlin?”

  “You don’t have to worry; the matter is sorted.”

  “Well? Was it him? Was it my fault?” I asked with trepidation.

  “It would seem that waking him the way you did...”

  “I had no choice.”

  “I’m not criticising, it was a last ditch try and it worked, I believe you saved his life,” he paused.

  “There’s a ‘but’ coming isn’t there?” I said.

  “Indeed. It appears you may have inadvertently kick-started something in him which might otherwise have stayed dormant.

  “I didn’t know that was possible,” I said.

  There was another brief pause; Boris liked to choose words carefully. “It isn’t something we’ve come across before, so we are a little in the dark. That said, it is not something with which we could ever experiment.”