Generations of Love

by Wendy Pulford

  ‘Dad, you know I mentioned some while ago about maybe going to work in England? Would you mind if I did? Always assuming I got the chance.’

  ‘My dear girl, you’re twenty-two years of age. You can do anything you want without asking me.’

  She squeezed his arm. ‘I know that, Dad, but I still like to run things by you. I value your advice.’

  Frank’s fondness for his daughter grew on hearing such words. Since her mother left they had become very close, and he always treasured the time he was able to spend with her.

  ‘I’m glad to hear that, baby. I’ve tried to do the best for you. I like the young woman you’ve grown into, and you make me very proud. If you wish to go to England I can’t stop you. I know I’ll miss you, but you must do what you feel is right. Can I ask one thing?’

  His daughter looked up at him with misty eyes. ‘Of course you can.’

  ‘This move to England. Is it for your career, or for that young man?’

  He watched Christa plucking at her jersey. A sure sign that she was thinking hard.

  ‘I would like to work abroad. Dick Hudson says it would be good experience for me. I can’t deny, though, that I would like to be nearer Peter. I don’t know how to explain it, Dad, but I feel he needs me… or someone. He seems so down at times, unsure. I think it all stems from his being orphaned. By the way, he still has no idea of your financial circumstances, so don’t worry that he’s enticing me over there for any underhand benefit. I’ll keep it as quiet as I can.’

  ‘You’re right, Christa. It’s always been a worry to me. First and foremost, I want you to be happy with anyone you choose. The financial considerations must be second place. I like Peter. He’s polite and well mannered. He’s without doubt a bright young man, and I feel he’ll move on well in his career. I agree with you that he has a strange air about him at times. If you feel that a friendship with you could help him, then by all means go, with my blessing. Don’t forget about your old Dad, though, will you?’

  He placed a kiss on her forehead, and she smiled up at him.

  ‘You’re the best Dad ever.’

  *

  ‘Let me get this straight. What are you trying to tell me, Larry?’

  The phone had rung just as Christa was leaving for work.

  ‘What? Are you sure?… Well, yes, I know. I appreciate that, but it’s not that common a name. So you say Toronto?… Yes, I’ll look it up myself. You’re brilliant. If it turns out to be the one, I’ll ask Dad to lay on something special… Yeah, bye.’

  She flopped down onto the settee and stared into space for a few moments, before racing out to her car with a wide grin on her face.

  *

  ‘So you’re telling me he came upon the name, just like that?’

  ‘Yes, I know, without even looking for it! After I asked him to do my initial research he thought the whole idea might be a neat line in some extra cash for him, so he advertised his services. One night he was doing some work for a client and tried out some leads for them on Canada411 phone directories. He was looking through for the information he needed and came across the name Michael Hartman. When he told me, I followed it up, and sure enough there’s a current listing for a Michael Hartman in the Toronto directory. This is the address quoted.’

  Hudson looked again at the paper in his hand. ‘That’s a spot of luck. The chances of that happening are… But we still don’t know if it’s the same person.’

  ‘I know, Dick, but I’ve had this idea. It might take a while, but it could give me an opportunity to find out. I’ve been giving some thought to an article it might be interesting to run, and it could fit this situation. Now, you know that over the years people have been emigrating to this country. I wondered, now that we’ve started a new millennium, if there was a story in picking out particular examples and finding out what their lives have been like over here, and if they think it was worthwhile. That sort of thing.’

  Dick rubbed his chin. ‘You’ll be spoilt for choice, that’s for sure.’

  ‘I wondered if we could do the angle of choosing immigrants from particular time periods and finding out if this made any difference to how the country gave them initial help.’

  Dick leant forward on the desk. ‘Mmm… that sounds interesting. Did this country work out for them or not, kind of angle, depending when they came here. How are you going to tie that in with your Hartman person? We can’t go national on this; unless, of course, it takes off, then there might be a chance.’

  ‘I know, Dick, but if the idea is accepted in principle, and it did go national, I might then include the query as to whether previous employment was useful in finding jobs over here. If your thought about linking policing with hunting through firearms experience is feasible, it might just strike a chord. If all else fails and he doesn’t respond to the article, I might have to try a more personal and direct approach.’

  Hudson gave her a quizzical look. ‘OK. Let’s run this by the boss and see what gives, eh?’

  The boss liked it, but with the proviso of just using their local circulation at first, and then, if it went well, interesting the nationals. So, given the go-ahead, Dick left Christa to start work. He was already impressed by her writing skills, and it now looked as though she had a quick mind for ideas as well, reinforcing his belief that she should be given as much experience as possible. Between them they worked out a preliminary article, asking for members of the public to volunteer any information.

  As predicted, they received floods of replies. It was agreed that out of the participants chosen, some would be asked to write in their experiences, and others would be interviewed in person by Christa and two other journalists. This took several weeks and Christa was beginning to feel that it had been a good idea from the paper’s point of view, and for her career; but for her own personal goal, not so good. She had to move things along somehow.

  With the help of Dick Hudson they both put pressure on their Editor to agree to go national and, worn down by their perseverance, he agreed to their idea of canvassing the big cities, starting with Dick Hudson’s suggestion of Toronto. He queried the choice of city, but Hudson, with an innocent glance at Christa, just shrugged and remarked that they might as well start somewhere. As her Editor spoke to his opposite number, Christa held her breath in case just local journalists would be preferred, but Hudson had pushed for Christa to be involved, as the originator of the whole successful feature, and this was agreed.

  As replies started to come in from Toronto residents, each day Christa would look through the growing list of names passed through by her city colleagues. Then, with a shriek of excitement, which startled the whole newsroom, she saw the name she’d been waiting for. She requested the Toronto office to send through a copy of the letter, and with sanction from Toronto she rang the number. After asking some questions from a curious-sounding Michael Hartman, and finding the right answers, she was sure he was the person she was seeking. He agreed to be interviewed and, still not quite believing her luck, Christa arranged to meet him in Toronto for the interview.

  CHAPTER 8

  Three weeks later, after spending a morning with two other Toronto contributors to the article, Christa sat in a taxi as it drove through the East York district of the city, feeling nervous and sick. The buildings in this area were, in the main, mature, post-World War I single dwellings or small apartment blocks, and it was in front of one of these that the taxi stopped.

  Michael Hartman lived in a ground-floor apartment. As Christa pressed the bell on the front door, she could hear her heart pounding. After a moment or two the door opened and a man in his mid-seventies stood there, surveying her.

  She noticed that, for all his years, he seemed fit and erect. His grey hair was a little longer than normal for a man of his age, but his eyes were what arrested her. They were the same as Peter’s! Grey eyes that looked as if they were used to seeing into t
he distance, and even in old age were bright and clear. She also had the notion that there was still a sharp mind behind them.

  ‘I’m Christa Benjamin, Mr Hartman. I believe we have an appointment.’

  ‘I believe we have,’ he replied, and stood aside to let her enter.

  He motioned her through into the living room and watched while she sorted out her recorder.

  ‘I understand that you would like my views on my emigration to Canada.’

  Christa smiled at him. ‘Yes, Mr Hartman. As I informed you, my local paper, and now the nationals, are running articles on immigrants over the years. Perhaps we could first start with your reasons for leaving England.’

  ‘Let’s just say I fancied a new start.’

  Christa concentrated on her notebook. ‘Did you leave family?’

  There was a pause and Christa was forced to look up. The grey eyes were studying her.

  ‘I don’t see the necessity of going there, young lady. It’s nothing to do with my life here.’

  Alright, she thought, we’ll close that avenue for the time being. She didn’t want to antagonise him.

  ‘Very well. Tell me what jobs were open to you when you arrived.’

  ‘I found some odd casual jobs to start with. As I mentioned in my reply to the article, after a while it was suggested to me that, as I was familiar with firearms, it made sense to offer my services to the hunting fraternity. I was fit and healthy. Once I had my various licences in place I picked up jobs with summer hunting parties before I joined an organised outfit. I enjoyed the open air life and it’s kept me fit. When it came to retirement I stayed up in Manitoba, but after a while decided I’d seen enough of open country, and a month or two ago thought I’d try an urban lifestyle. My private funding seems to have given me a reasonable enough set-up here. All in all, I can say that I am pleased with the experiences this country has given me, which is why I felt I wanted to reply to your article and voice my appreciation.’

  She just had to ask, ‘Did you marry here, Mr Hartman?’

  ‘No, Miss Benjamin, I did not.’ The reply was emphatic.

  For the next hour, Christa worked through her list of questions. She’d been right about the sharp mind. For all his age, this man appeared to be well informed about the modern world. She found herself agreeing with a lot of what he said about her country and the world in general. He offered her some refreshment when she suggested they took a break from recording, and found herself enjoying his company. However, she knew that before she left she would have to come back to her main query. She was putting on her coat and collecting her belongings, waiting for her taxi back to the airport, when she plucked up the courage.

  ‘Would you like to return to England, and maybe see any of your relations, Mr Hartman?’

  ‘Do I have any?’

  The bold question caught her off-guard, and for a moment she could think of nothing to say. She managed to stammer, ‘Unless you search for them you won’t know, will you?’

  His grey eyes were assessing her, and… was it her guilty conscience, or did she imagine they were looking right into her mind?

  He then shrugged and said, ‘The same applies to them, doesn’t it. You found me; so, I presume, could they.’

  Christa caught her breath, and managed a weak smile. ‘Well, you never know, Mr Hartman. Thank you for your time. It’s been very enjoyable. I’ll send you a copy of the article before it goes to print so that you can confirm you are happy with it.’

  He showed her to the door. ‘Thank you for the very interesting talk, Miss Benjamin.’

  She walked out to the taxi, her mind replaying his final words.

  During the flight home, Christa began to check her notes on the various interviews of the day, but found she always returned to Michael Hartman. Thinking back over his comments, she had the distinct impression that he had guessed her article wasn’t the real reason for visiting him. It had been, at times, as if they were both having two conversations, neither of them quite telling the whole truth. The remark he had made about any family wanting to trace him being able to do so, might be construed in two ways, but she was sure that it wasn’t just her imagination making her certain he was suspicious.

  Now she had to face the dilemma of whether to take the real reason for her investigations any further. She needed to judge whether news like this would be in Peter’s best interests, and in order to do so she had to get to know him better. More than ever, she must concentrate on a move to England. With the obvious success of her immigration idea, this might be the right time to push for assistance with her goal. She would have to speak with Dick Hudson again.

  *

  Sarah sighed with pleasure. Jerry had woken her as the dawn light filtered in through the curtains, and they had just made love. She was lying in his arms, warm and content, waiting for another busy day to unfold.

  ‘I’m so very lucky.’

  Jerry rubbed his bristled chin against her shoulder, and murmured an automatic, ‘Yes, my darling’, still half-asleep.

  Sarah laughed and snuggled closer against him. ‘I’m very lucky that I married you, I mean.’

  Jerry turned his head and kissed her hair. ‘Well, of course, I could have told you that. As far as I’m concerned that day I proposed to you in the hospital canteen was the best day’s work I’ve ever done.’

  Sarah reached up and kissed his mouth. ‘I’m so glad you did. I think I love you even more now than I did then.’ She stroked his shoulder. ‘Jerry?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘Do we need to get up just yet?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure there’s plenty of time. Did you have anything planned?’ He turned over and pinned her beneath him. ‘Or perhaps I can suggest something, my love.’

  He covered her mouth with his, and slid his hand down her body.

  Sitting at the kitchen table enjoying their breakfast an hour or two later, they exchanged an amused glance as Amy, grabbing a slice of toast, raced off to college.

  ‘One of these days this house will be quiet and still, when the children all leave. If that day ever comes.’ Jerry grimaced. ‘I think they like it here too much, that’s the trouble; plus its cheaper!’

  Sarah started to clear the table.

  ‘We’ll always have each other, and if we get more time like this morning, that will be…’

  She felt Jerry come behind her and his arms slid round her waist.

  ‘I know, my dear. As you said earlier, we’ve had luck. We have jobs and a house we love, and two marvellous children. On the whole,’ he amended with a chuckle. ‘At least they’re individuals with minds of their own.’

  He sighed and planted a soft kiss on her bright curls. ‘Time for me to retreat to my study, I’m afraid. I’ve notes to read through for this afternoon.’

  He retrieved his briefcase from the hall and started sorting through some papers. Sarah finished loading the dishwasher and then turned to him.

  ‘I still worry about Peter. He’s very like Catherine in character. A bit too diffident at times. He needs more confidence. I often think he’s searching for something.’

  Jerry looked at his wife, came over to her and wrapped her in his arms again.

  ‘My love, we’ve done the very best we could.’ He lifted her face and looked into her blue eyes. ‘Peter is twenty four years old. He has to look after himself now. I’m sure Alex and Catherine would be proud of how he’s turned out. You’ve been marvellous since the beginning. I was in despair all those years ago. I saw what the whole thing was doing to you. You were ill, and at one point I thought I was going to lose my wife, or my unborn child. I couldn’t seem to reach you, all I could do was watch and hope. As Peter grew and Rob came along, you came back to us again, but I know it still affects you. I just thank God we’ve worked our way through it. Perhaps now we can have more time for ourselves, like this morning
.’

  Sarah gave him a quick kiss. ‘I’m sorry I worried you. I was locked into a dark place and it took me some while to escape.’ She looked up at him with a shy smile. ‘I liked this morning, too.’ Snuggling back into his arms, she went on, ‘I’m glad this girl Peter met is coming over to England. I’m sure he didn’t ask her to come, but I think it would be good for him if it worked out. I’ve noticed, though, that he’s seemed very tense and nervous these last two months since she said she was coming. I think that’s why he’s asked me to go with him to the airport today to meet her. Jerry, what do we do if they want to stay together in Peter’s rooms?’

  ‘We stick to the rules Sarah,’ Jerry sounded adamant, and released her. ‘Same for Peter as it is for Rob and Amy. No goings-on under our roof. I’m enlightened on some things, but not as far as that.’

  He picked up his briefcase and made to leave the room, but turned back and, giving her a smiling wink, commented, ‘A cup of coffee in an hour might be welcomed… to your advantage. We are the exception, of course!’

  Even after all these years, Sarah felt herself turn pink.

  CHAPTER 9

  Peter couldn’t stand still. The nervous tension inside him was growing, as it had since Christa’s news. For so long the idea of her coming to England had been something in the future, but now she would arrive at any moment. Over many months they had shared numerous telephone conversations and he always found himself looking forward to hearing her voice. However, seeing her again in person, what would happen if it wasn’t the same? There would be nothing he could do. And then he saw her, the bright head and that same smile, and he realised it felt good.

  *

  Sarah watched as Peter paced up and down behind the line of people waiting to greet new arrivals, the knot of anxiety building inside her. She had never seen him quite so agitated. Was he regretting becoming involved with this girl? If so it was a little late to do anything about it. Then she knew he had spotted her. He stopped pacing and half-raised his arm in greeting. Sarah stood back and took a good look. The young woman was honey blonde and about her own height, dressed in a smart green trouser suit, but it was the spontaneous smile when she first saw Peter, and his answering grin, which made the greatest impression on Sarah. She sighed with relief. It was going to be alright.