Felburgh

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Felburgh Page 39

by Ivan B


  “I’ve only just changed,” she said, “I’ve had the most unusual visitor.”

  “Who?” asked Peter hoping it was not one of the terrible trio.

  “Bessie, you know the Major’s wife”.

  Peter wondered if he wanted to hear what was coming.

  “She’s never been here before, but she used to teach Danielle at the school.”

  “I wasn’t aware she was a teacher” remarked Peter

  “She isn’t, she’s a volunteer, and she helps out with music by teaching composition on the piano.”

  Jo continued, “When she arrived she came in and gave me a hug and said ‘sorry Jo, I am so sorry’. I thought she was going to break down in tears. We sat on the old sofa; she held my hands and told me that she loved her husband very much, but sometimes he could be the most stupid and unreasonable man she had ever known. She then told me about his intention to visit you with what she termed ‘his henchmen’.”

  Jo looked at Peter, and he nodded.

  “So she told me to carry on with what I was doing and that she thought it was very romantic that we were going out together. She also added that she had had a blazing row with her husband and told him he’d crossed the Rubicon in interference as far as she was concerned and he could get his own dinner. Then she came here.”

  Jo stood up and picked up an enormous pile of ironing.

  “She was here most of the morning and ironed this little lot for me as we talked. Do you know she never knew that Danielle is not my biological daughter? She saw the pictures of Anna Marie with Danielle in her arms on top of the TV and the conversation went from there. She said that whether or not Danielle was my biological daughter she was a daughter to be proud of.”

  Jo disappeared for a minute into her tiny bedroom and re appeared a minute later.

  “You know I enjoyed talking to her. When she arrived I had all my sleepers in”

  “Sleepers?” queried Peter.

  “You haven’t been around much” she joked, “You can’t sleep in all types of jewelry so you keep the holes open by using little gold rings called sleepers. Even if I haven’t been using them all during the day I still like to keep them open; remember I need them as examples. Anyway I had all my sleepers in and Bessie started talking to me about body piercing, you know was it painful and all the usual questions.”

  Jo laughed, “I showed her my navel and she winced, I didn’t dare show her my nipples. We got to talking about the face studs and how I was trying out different combinations. I ended up showing them all to her, and a few more. It was really good to talk to her. Do you know she’s asked me to do a talk for the Mother’s Union?”

  With that she disappeared back into the bedroom telling him she would not be long. Peter sat and looked round the living room contemplating what on earth Jo could have been asked to talk about. The flat was incredibly small, a tiny living space with a galley kitchen at one end, a minuscule toilet with a shower cubicle and two bedrooms both as small as each other. Jo and Danielle had lived here for all of Danielle’s life. One wall was covered in cork tiles and on them hung little notes, photographs, appointments and the general information detritus of life. One wall was taken up by the kitchen, one wall by the window and by the doors to the toilet and bedrooms. It could have been depressing, but somehow it wasn’t.

  Peter liked it because every nook and cranny spoke of Jo.

  Jo finally appeared after fifteen minutes, but there was no time penalty, they were only going to walk along the sea front to the café at Felburgh Creek. “Ta Daa” said Jo, “The final combination”.

  “Great” said Peter; “you look great.”

  They want outside and Peter walked her down the road, after about a hundred yards she stopped dead in her tracks and walked back about three car lengths.

  “It’s your Rover!” she exclaimed, “You’ve had it painted!”

  The Land Rover stood proudly in the road; now it was Post Office Red and the canvass back had been replaced by a van type back that had a single back door rather than the old canvass flap.

  Jo turned and looked at Peter.

  “Why?” she asked.

  Peter just grinned and shrugged his shoulders, finally he confessed.

  “I didn’t want to part with it, but I didn’t want you going maudlin every time you saw it, that isn’t fair on you.”

  Jo hugged him.

  “I’ve never had anyone repaint a car for me,” she said.

  “I’ve never had anyone worth repainting a car for,” Peter replied

  “But why red?” She asked. “Wouldn’t a nice shade of blue done?”

  Peter laughed.

  “I still wanted it to look authentic, so it’s Olive Green, Desert Brown, Police Black or Post Office Red”.

  “No choice then,” Jo said grinning, and they continued their walk.

  The walk along the sea front turned out just as Peter hoped. He and Jo enjoyed the stroll and a by-product of the walk turned out to be that that they passed, or met, a number of parishioners; their secret, if it ever was a secret, was well and truly out.

  They left for London at spot on three o’ clock and arrived near the Albert Hall at about five-thirty. The concert wasn’t due to start until seven o’ clock and Peter had booked them a table at a nearby restaurant. They had a cozy meal together. Over coffee suddenly leant forward.

  “Have you enjoyed this last few days?”

  She nodded furiously

  “It’s been wonderful. How about you?”

  Peter took hold of her hand.

  “I’ve found it wonderful too.”

  He paused, and then asked quietly.

  “Do you want it to continue? Going out with me I mean.”

  She looked into his eyes.

  “Yes, if you do.”

  Peter sat back in his chair.

  “Oh I do, but you do realize there is a penalty.”

  Jo looked out of the restaurant at the people hurrying past.

  “You mean the church.”

  Peter nodded.

  “They’re not a bad bunch. I’ve made some wonderful friends since I’ve been here, but there are also those who like to criticize, and you may become the barb for their arrows.”

  Jo laughed.

  “I think you’re mixing up your metaphors, but I know what you mean, and I don’t care.”

  She stopped.

  “Actually I do care. I don’t like being the centre of attention at all; I remember when I first came out of hospital, some people were nice, others just pointed at me behind my back. Just after we opened the shop I even had one woman refuse to let me pierce her ears and insisted that Anna do it.”

  She paused.

  “But if that is the penalty for being with you I’ll bear it, and I promise I’ll try not to let you down.”

  Peter squeezed her hand.

  “And I won’t let you down either.”

  They could have stayed all night in the restaurant, but the concert beckoned and they had to leave. It turned out to be surprisingly good. There were three inter-school groups: one made up a classical orchestra, one was a choir and the third was the swing band. The orchestra played Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony and a couple of Mozart’s short concertos. The choir sang a number of songs from around the world. The swing band stole the day. They played a number of pieces made familiar by Glenn Miller, but they not only played them, they did all the actions as well. Trumpeters stood, Trombonists worked in unison and the saxophonists swung to and fro. They even had a couple of surprises, one was a vocal rendition of ‘I’ve got a gal in Kalamazoo’, and the other was Dave Brubeck’s Unsquare Dance. Peter enjoyed it immensely, Jo was as proud as a peacock. Afterwards they made their way to the dressing rooms to pick up Danielle. She showed absolutely no surprise at seeing Peter with her mum and treated it as the most natural thing in the world. She insisted on saying a personal goodbye to every swing-band member and it was midnight before Peter started to drive home.

 
Danielle was definitely not impressed with the Land Rover’s new colour scheme.

  “Doesn’t exactly blend in does it?” she remarked.

  On the other hand she was impressed both with the air conditioning and the multi-change CD player both of which were installed under the seats. The great thing for Peter is that he had brought a pair of earphones with him so that Danielle could listen to her CDs while he talked to Jo as they drove back to Felburgh. Peter dropped them both at home about two o’clock in the morning. When he got home he was glad that he’d had the foresight to get a retired priest to preside at the eight o’ clock communion and that Charmian and Jane were taking the main morning service. Before he went to sleep, however, he made two important decisions. Peter took advantage of his Sunday off and had a lay-in, so he didn’t have breakfast until nearly ten o’ clock. He then spent some time in prayer; if he was going to make some life changing decisions he thought he had better check them out with God. He lunched late and wandered into his study in the early afternoon. As he was booting up his computer he thought he heard something outside. Aquinas, ever on the alert, had already jumped up and run to the front door. Peter walked to the door and opened it. Louise and Danielle were standing on the doorstep. Peter looked at them somewhat surprised.

  “Danielle wants to talk to you,” said Louise. Danielle looked embarrassed.

  Peter invited them in and sat them in the lounge, went to the kitchen and brought back three cans of Coke.

  “Did you enjoy the swing-band?”

  “Marvelous,” said Louise.

  “But we rehearsed every day,” said Danielle.

  “And went out every night,” giggled Louise.

  Danielle poked her in the ribs; “they had all the evenings planned.”

  “What did you do?” asked Peter.

  Danielle ticked of a list on her fingers, “Theatre, cinema, roller-skating.”

  Louise picked up the thread, “open-air concert in Hyde Park, two Discos’ and a jazz quintet.”

  Danielle resumed, “and special visits to the British Museum and the planetarium.”

  Peter smiled, “and you still managed to get up before tea-time after all that?”

  He went on looking at Danielle, “and France?”

  She shook her head. “Not so good. The college was OK, but we weren’t allowed out in the evenings and only had two special evening visits: one up the Eiffel Tower and the other to the Louve. And mum was ill for the first week.”

  She grinned at Peter.

  “Second week was better, mum and I sneaked out on three evenings and she showed me around Paris by night. We even took a night-trip on the river and didn’t get in until three in the morning. Madame in charge was not amused.”

  Peter laughed and the girls fell silent.

  Eventually Louise said, “Go on then, we haven’t got all day.”

  Danielle looked at Peter.

  “What have you done to my mum?”

  “Done to your Mum?” Echoed Peter

  “I go away to London and she’s changed”.

  “In what way?”

  “She’s happier, and while I was away she’s been out buying dresses - dresses! The last time I saw her in a dress was for my first mass! She’s changed her face, and she no longer seems anxious.”

  “Anxious about what?” Peter asked.

  “Anxious about anything. She’s stopped giving me earache about being careful with boys, or what I watch on telly or just anything. But it probably won’t last” she said grinning. “I want to go to an all night disco next week!”

  Peter waited; sure that Danielle had not come to the reason for her visit yet.

  Danielle hesitated.

  “Do you and Mum talk?”

  “Lots” said Peter

  “Has she told you about her… ” but Danielle could not finish, because by finishing the sentence she realized she might betray her mother.

  “Past” said Peter helpfully, “about her past?”

  “Yes”

  Peter wondered what to say next, and then decided.

  “We tell each other everything; we have pledged a bond of no secrets. The only things I can’t tell your mother or anybody else for that matter are those matters told to me in my capacity as a priest.”

  Danielle considered this.

  “Has she talked about her medical conditions?”

  “Yes”

  “Have you seen her throw a wobbly?”

  “Yes”

  “Awesome” said Louise, “Just awesome, I remember your mum and Mr. Smith”

  Danielle Smiled and grinned at Peter.

  “When I started high school we were told that we had no choice but to study German as the French class was too big. Mum found out that this was not true, it was just that the German class was getting too small and if we weren’t there it couldn’t continue. Mum turned up out of the blue one day mid-way through a German lesson and confronted Mr. Smith in front of the whole class. He was polite, but said Mum would have to take it up with the school governors. As mum was leaving Mr. Smith made the mistake of making a remark to the class, in German, to the effect that she was a ‘stupid woman’.

  Mum went ballistic and Mr. Smith was trapped as she was between the door and him. She spoke to him in rapid German and advanced towards him slowly getting louder and louder and speaking faster and faster. It was soon clear that Mr. Smith could not keep up. After about ten minutes Madame Dupont came in the room from next door and spoke to Mr. Smith in French. My French was good enough to keep up; she asked Mr. Smith if he was OK. Mum turned round, and in perfect French, and as if she were conducting a normal conversation, told her that she was trying to explain to this arsehole that there is more to life than German and that French was a much more expressive and worthwhile language. Madam Dupont laughed, agreed and left the room. Mum then continued her tirade in German for another five minutes and left.”

  “It was her exit that was awesome” said Louise, “As she was walking out she saw Ku at the back of the class, Ku is Japanese and we all call her Ku because we can’t pronounce her real name. Danielle’s mum goes over to Ku and speaks to her in Japanese, she was a bit more hesitant than she was in French and German, but she kept up a conversation for a few minutes. Then she said something to Ku that made her laugh. Danielle’s mum then went to the door, turned round and said in a perfect imitation of Mr. Smith ‘Stupid Man’, and walked out.”

  Both Louise and Danielle laughed at the memory; Danielle was obviously proud of her mother.

  “What happened?” asked Peter

  “Oh we were given the choice,” said Louise.

  “And you chose French” said Peter

  “No we chose German” giggled Danielle, “I already had GCSE French, I took it before I went to the school, and Mum and I have spoken only French for two days every week for as long as I can remember! It was a matter of principle to mum that we ought to have the choice.”

  Danielle then got back to her questioning.

  “Has she told you about my biological mum?”

  “Yes”

  Danielle leant over and took a piece of paper out of her backpack. Peter realized he was about to be interviewed as a prospective partner for Jo.

  “Do you smoke?”

  “No”

  “Do you drink?”

  “Very occasionally”

  Danielle looked up from the list.

  “Would you get her totally pissed and do the dirty on her?”

  “No”

  “Have you got any other women lying around?”

  “No.”

  Danielle went back to the list, “What about drugs?”

  “No”

  Louise giggled.

  “It is a vicar you’re talking to Dan”.

  “I know” she replied, “But he did deck Freddy”

  “Only to protect your mum’s honour,” Louise answered. “I think that is super romantic.”

  Peter was amazed, how on earth did they
know what he did to Freddy only a couple of days ago? Danielle went back to her list.

  “Would you make my mum be normal?”

  “What do you mean by normal?” queried Peter.

  “You know make herself look like all the other mums.”

  “No, I’ve told her she can come to church covered in Zulu paint if she wishes; I love her for who she is not for what she wears.”

  Louise said, “Risky; she might just do it!”

  Danielle said at the same time, “You love her?”

  “Yes”

  “Have you told her so?”

  “Yes”

  “Do you intend to marry her?”

  Peter hesitated, “Yes”

  “Does she know?”

  “Probably”

  Louise butted in; “She means have you asked her?”

  “Not yet”

  Danielle looked him straight in the eye.

  “Is that because of me? And that I come as part of the package?”

  “No, I haven’t bought the ring yet.”

  Danielle paused, gathered her courage.

  “Four years and I’ll probably be gone. I want to go to university and study to be a doctor. Languages are fine and I like music, but I want to be a doctor. Mum would be all alone then and I want her to be married to you. You’re all right, even though you have a weird taste in cars and sleep funny.”

  “Sleep funny?”

  Danielle and Louise both turned red. Louise spoke.

  “When we came to watch Macbeth I went to go to the toilet and walked into your bedroom by mistake; it was a mistake, honest I wasn’t snooping. You have a blanket on the floor and a duvet and a kitchen tray as a bedside table.”

  Peter smiled.

  “I promise I won’t make your mum sleep on the floor, I intended to buy a bed but somehow I didn’t get round to it and it’s not high on my priority list. But your mum is!”

 

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