by Ruth Hay
“If you’ll allow me, Miss. I’m just doing a few sums and since I’m here so close to your conservatory, I’m thinking I can find the blinds you want and I have a pal who could help me install them for you.”
“This is much more than I had expected from you, Frank. Are you sure you have the time to take on this big a job?”
He stopped, put down his pencil and bent forward so far toward the granite island that Sandra thought he might be have an attack of some kind. She heard a creaking kind of noise and realized Frank was merely laughing.
“Och, Miss! My Muriel would pay to get me oot the hoose. She’s aye after me to find a job to do. The trouble is, I’ve done aw the jobs around oor place and she’s at her wits end to think of mair!”
She couldn’t resist laughing with him. His strong accent was getting stronger the more he laughed.
He was beginning to sound like a man from the islands. At once she felt even more confident about his abilities. Highland men were nothing if not totally honest.
Muriel’s gain will be my gain also! Time for some honesty of my own.
“Frank, I have to tell you this project is in its early stages. I have a lot to do to prepare before I can get into the major work.” His face fell at this so she backed off quickly. “Of course, the shelves in the garage could go ahead any time and we could make up detailed plans for the garden shed improvements.”
He brightened up immediately. “I have to say, Miss, that I canna work so well in the winter months.” He held up one hand and shook his head. “It’s the arthuritis you see.”
“Then we shall just have to do what we can to move things along as fast as possible. I do want you to be involved Frank. It’s so good that you live nearby. I’ll write down my phone number for you and I’ll be in touch very soon. Please go ahead with the shelves and hooks and if you need to come for measuring, give me a phone call. And Frank……………… my name is Sandra from now on.”
“Yes, Miss Sandra, and thank you for the offer, and the tea. It’ll be my pleasure to help you.”
She watched him walk back along the road with a newly jaunty step and waved until he turned the corner into his own street.
What a dear, dear man. He reminds me of the kind of people I grew up among and getting back in contact with those people is something I will do before too long.
For now, however, Sandra Halder had to tackle the sheaf of papers and forms her husband had delivered to her the previous evening. The papers had been sitting there on the coffee table where she had placed them and a nervous feeling had filled her every time she saw them.
The afternoon was moving on and she had to make a start on the official side of her project so she could speak sensibly about it to Ian on his return from Edinburgh.
No time like the present, she told herself.
There was a moment’s hesitation when she realized she had not yet stopped for a bite of lunch but she quickly acknowledged that was a delaying tactic, although useful as a diet strategy. She picked up the papers, gathered a pen and paper for notes and took everything out to the conservatory where she laid it all on the end of the dining table and sat down, determined to get to grips with the city’s requirements.
The first ten minutes were daunting. The old Sandra would have given up right then but the new, post-Lake District Sandra, straightened her shoulders and drew up from some hidden depths, the habits of mind that had steered her through teacher training and the years in the classroom.
“This is no worse than ferreting through new curriculum from the Education Department.”
She spoke this out forcibly to the papers before her and proceeded to sort them into piles according to the urgency factor. On the left she compiled forms that she could complete now, then advancing down the length of the table were items requiring more information or a longer lead-in time.
After another period of contemplation she further sub-divided one of these piles into items directly related to Ian’s work in the city planning department. These he should be able to expedite for her.
At the very least he could help with the interpretation of some of the more obscure terminology and even fill out sections for her. It would be a good way to get him involved in the plan.
There was one more organizing tool she had learned long ago. She found some filing cards in Ian’s office, (soon to be converted into toilets for children), and labelled them according to the department represented in the piles now ranged along the dining room table. Folded in half and printed clearly with black marker, she felt it was an impressive collation, now clearly organized.
Noise abatement. Planning permissions. Health and Safety. Qualifications. Staffing requirements.
Inspection schedules. Evidence of community needs. Business finances.
As she placed the last label, Sandra was suddenly overcome by hunger.
It must be hours since I ate breakfast but I can’t stop now. Ian will be home soon!
New Sandra made an executive decision. She grabbed an apple and fled upstairs to shower and change.
This was going to be an important evening for her. She wanted to look neat and efficient for the discussion she would have with her husband.
When Ian called to say he was on his way, she would order pizza for supper. Ian could pick it up.
To say Ian Halder was surprised by the request to pick up pizza on his way home, would be an understatement.
Sandra did not approve of pizza. She prided herself on preparing good, healthy meals for him. He suspected she did not eat so healthily during her TV watching binges but he had never found a pizza box in the rubbish bin. Tonight she wanted pizza all of a sudden.
Was this another indication that his wife was behaving irrationally, as Joanne suspected?
He shrugged off that accusation. Sandra was likely tired. Nothing more sinister than that.
There was no sign of tired in his wife when he arrived home. She met him at the door, in another new outfit, with freshly-brushed hair in that updo style that really suited her. He felt a surge of passion and hoped the pizza meal would end soon enough for a long, leisurely evening in bed.
He kissed Sandra and she seemed eager to continue but it appeared her mind was on food first.
“Ian dear, I’ve warmed the plates and the oven is on in case the pizza isn’t piping hot. There’s cold beer in the fridge for you. Let’s be comfortable and watch the TV news in here. I have a surprise for you in the conservatory after we eat.”
He glanced over to the conservatory and saw the French doors had been closed. His imagination was racing along with his pulse. What delights had this new version of his Sandy in store for him tonight?
He ate the pizza rather faster than he might have done, and wiped his hands and face on the paper napkins. Should he go upstairs, change, and have a quick shower to prepare for whatever was to follow?
Sandra was almost finished eating. She switched off the early evening news program and stood up smoothing down her pretty flowery skirt. He could tell she was nervous or excited or both. He decided to stay put in case he missed some crucial hint. Women could be subtle when it came to sex.
With a huge grin she threw open the conservatory doors and beckoned him in. He brushed past her and looked in the direction she was indicating with no idea what to expect.
He saw the dining room table and chairs but nothing special or tempting. Nothing at all.
“Look, darling! Look at what I’ve been doing!”
His eyes scanned the entire area and still found nothing out of the ordinary. This was frustrating in the extreme. What was the silly girl expecting him to see?
She moved closer to the table and placed her hand in turn, over each pile of paper there. When she spoke again there was a definite cooling in her tone.
“Can’t you see? These are the forms and papers you brought for me. I’ve organized them properly so we can start to deal with them tonight. You said this was the first step but I have to tell you I have gone
ahead and found a carpenter and handyman to help with the alterations. We spent most of the afternoon together and he is unbelievable! A real sweetheart of a man and so in tune with what I want to do.”
A tangle of emotions threatened to overwhelm him. His heart began a rapid tattoo.
Disappointment. Frustration. Annoyance. Jealousy? Confusion.
Finally, disbelief conquered all the others in the maelstrom and rose to the top.
She was serious about this crazy day care idea! After all the stuff he had gathered to show her what a huge waste of time it would be, she had ignored all the warnings and actually employed some man to do work without a discussion with her husband who would , undoubtedly, be required to foot the bills.
His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. What could he say now? He was experienced enough in male/female marriage confrontations to know this was a delicate situation. One look at her face told him she was about to cry. He would have to proceed with extreme caution.
The night of passion fled out the open window and he was facing someone he had never met before.
His wife, Sandra, on fire with a kind of enthusiasm he was seeing for the first time.
He was an experienced negotiator. He had chaired meetings where compromise was hard fought.
He took a deep breath, summoned what was left of his brain power and focused for all he was worth.
If he was to rescue this situation from marital disaster he would have to think fast.
The remains of the pizza curdled in his stomach.
“Just a minute, darling! This is a total surprise for me. I had no idea things were moving so fast.
Sit down and tell me what this all means.”
“Oh, I know it’s kind of sudden Ian but I want to move ahead. It will be better to get the basic work done before winter sets in, don’t you think?”
“I think you need to bring me up to speed, Sandy. I had no idea you were this serious about the day care thing. I thought the city ordinances would show you the impossibility of doing it at all.”
She turned bright red. Danger sign.
“Did you think I was trying to fool you or something? This is very serious to me, Ian. I have wasted years sitting here doing nothing useful.”
“Wait! You have made a lovely home for us and you look after Joanne’s two a couple of times a week. What’s time wasting about that?”
She turned away for a moment and looked out of the windows at the garden to gather her words and feelings together. When her gaze returned to the table with all its carefully assembled piles of paperwork she almost lost heart but managed to keep her emotions at bay long enough to answer her husband. If there was to be crying, it would come later when she was alone.
“Ian, I have devoted my life to you, our children and this home. When the girls married or left for their own places, there was a giant gap in my life. You have always had your career, your interesting travels and important projects to oversee, you didn’t seem to notice when I was left behind with too much time on my hands. We have talked about retirement and things we could do together but that could be a long way ahead of us. I need to do something with my life now. Now, do you understand?”
“Sandra, I am sorry. I had no idea you felt this strongly. I can see how you feel about this and I want to help but, honestly, my dearest, your idea is not that well thought out.”
A surge of energy started in her stomach and moved rapidly up her body invigorating every part of her.
How dare he say that? What does he know about teaching and child care? He’s just trying to discourage me, to placate the poor little housewife. How dare he?
“Ian Halder, sit there and listen to me! I’ll tell you exactly how well thought out this plan is.”
She used the paper stacks on the table top to punctuate her comments as she ran through her ideas for the day care project. Anger gave her clarity of mind and she did not stumble over any of the plan’s facets, speaking quickly and decisively until she came to the financial aspects.
“I freely admit, Ian, that this part is an issue. I have no money of my own to call upon so a joint decision would be required. Obviously, I would hope for your cooperation in the whole thing but the finances could be the stumbling block.”
He sat back and looked at his wife with new eyes. Her presentation would have been more than acceptable in any board room in Glasgow, or beyond. He felt immensely proud of her and, at the same time, seriously worried that she had overestimated the viability of the plan. She was, unfortunately, still out of her depth. Road blocks flashed across his mind like a set of vivid slides on a screen.
Planning permissions took months or years depending on the accuracy of blueprints, local concerns and building regulations.
The wear and tear on the fabric of their home was worrying. The re-sale value would be diminished once the alterations were completed.
Health and safety requirements encompassed items like safe flooring everywhere. Fast exits and fire retardant fabrics were non-negotiable. The proposed new toilet facility would need rerouting of plumbing. He could see the pounds mounting up as the extremely expensive jobs succeeded one another in his mind’s eye.
He admired her ambition and, certainly, she had the skill set to make this happen as far as the daily programming was concerned but what kind of toll would it take on her? Such a relentless, twelve month schedule would wear anyone down.
He realized it was his responsibility to advise his wife on the technical aspects of her plan, no matter how depressing these might be for her. He also had the responsibility of preserving her self-respect. Finances and everything else aside, this part had to be the most significant factor.
She was still waiting to hear his response. Her anger had dissipated somewhat and anxiety had taken its place. She was not sure about her feelings toward Ian if he should belittle her hopes and ambitions. It could alter their relationship forever. The last time they had had a confrontation like this was over the choice of having a third child. She had won that time. Now she was not so sure of the outcome.
For once she could not read her husband’s face. He had a closed expression she imagined to be more suited to his work environment. He was looking at the table and not at her. Was that a sign?
There are times in life when the universe seems to pause; momentous decisions are hanging in the balance. This could not be said to be one of these extraordinary times but to the two people in a large conservatory, in an ordinary suburb in Scotland, the weight of the decision had halted their lives.
Ian was fully aware of it. Sandra also.
After what seemed like an uncountable amount of time passing, Ian spoke quietly into the gathering dusk.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your work with this, Sandy. You really have a grasp of the dimensions of such a big project. Naturally, there are some aspects you couldn’t be expected to know about. You have come so far in an incredibly short span of time and that reassures me of your commitment and your abilities.
Yes, this has been a shock to me. I admit it. A lot of things have been different in the last week, as you must know, but looking at this table, I have to acknowledge my wife has become an entrepreneur.”
He smiled up at her and the relief was so great that she sat down next to him and held out her hand to grasp his.
“Here’s what I suggest as the way forward, Sandra. The plan for the extended garden shed is inspired and should go ahead at once. Our grandchildren can enjoy it first and, who knows, there may be more of them along before too long, now that Sharon has settled down.
The improvements to the garage storage are useful for all of us and that should begin whenever you want. I’d like to meet your ‘sweetheart’ worker, of course, but I’m sure he’s as good as you say he is.
It is a major project and, believe me, all such projects are done in stages, over time. Let this be the first stage. Over the coming months you need to take whatever courses you can find to update yo
ur qualifications and that information may change some of your decisions.
How do you feel about all that?”
Sandra Halder was no fool. She recognized delaying tactics when she heard them. She was aware Ian’s was a clever mind using persuasion to minimize her ambition while still preserving her self-respect.
She also knew the sound of a good compromise. Some people said marriage was a series of compromises. Well, this was a good one. She meant both the marriage and the compromise.
She was happy with the initial results.
The match had been declared a draw after the third round.
“I feel very glad you are taking this seriously, Ian. I understand the wisdom in moving ahead slowly.
We haven’t talked about money yet. There’s plenty of time for that.
For now, let’s get some lights on! I have an apple pie in the fridge and I can whip up some pouring custard in no time at all. There’s one of those House Design programs you like on TV tonight. You might get some interesting ideas from it.”
She moved quickly around the lounge clicking on lights. There was a satisfied smile on her face.
Ian Halder was beginning to realize he might have been underestimating his wife for some time now.
This new version of his Sandra was definitely full of surprises and a man likes to come home to a wife who knows the power of surprises.
Eight.
Saturday.
Valerie Westwood met Rhonda in a coffee shop in downtown London.
It had been a busy week in Kilworth disposing of unwanted furniture and getting some touch-up paintwork done on the walls. She knew the new owners would probably re-paint immediately but there was a certain pride in preparing the place for others. She had coped with this on her own, using up paint stored in tins found in the depths of the basement.
She was mindful of the opportunity to bid farewell to the home that had sheltered her family for these many years. As she dusted and swept each room as soon as it was emptied, she also emptied her mind of its associations, some good and some bad.