The End of a Journey

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The End of a Journey Page 1

by Grace Thompson




  Contents

  Cover

  Title

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  By the same author

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Zena Martin stepped off the local bus and turned to Maberly Avenue where, in the neat little flat left to her by her grandmother, she had lived for three years. Tonight she was going to start painting the walls of the kitchen. Jake was away for a couple of days, so she would use the opportunity to get on while she had no distractions.

  He was in London visiting a friend, Stanley, who was to be best man at their wedding and they were probably making plans, even though the wedding was at least a year away.

  She was preparing for their engagement party, arranged for the following Sunday. There were plenty of things to do and she was determined to get the kitchen painted before party-planning took over completely. As she reached the corner of the road she saw Jake just ahead of her. He was home sooner than she’d expected. She sighed when she saw he was carrying several shopping bags. Surely he hadn’t been buying presents. They were saving for a deposit on the house which they planned to run as a bed and breakfast business. Their home near the sea in South Wales was an ideal place for such an undertaking, but it would need every penny they could save. The bags he carried were from expensive stores. She ran to catch him up and he looked startled.

  ‘Zena, my lovely girl! What a surprise. I had some shopping to do and left London earlier than planned.’

  ‘What’s all this?’ she asked, pointing to the bulging bags he carried. ‘I thought we were saving?’

  ‘Well, love, something’s happened, see. I should have told you as soon as I’d talked to Stanley but I – anyway, we’re so close to the flat that I might as well come and talk about it now.’

  ‘What is it?’ Zena stared at Jake in alarm, afraid he had changed his mind about marrying her. What else could it be to make him look so serious?

  ‘I’ve got a marvellous new job, see, and, well, it’s in London and I have to go in three days’ time. That’s what all this shopping is for. This new job, it’s as a rep for a firm selling industrial clothing. Stanley arranged the interview and it sounded so wonderful I just had to give it a try.’

  ‘Industrial clothing? But, Jake, what do you know about selling? You’ve always worked in a factory making copper and brass fittings.’

  ‘You know I wouldn’t be satisfied with that for ever. I’ve always wanted a job where I’d have clean hands.’

  ‘But you’ve no experience.’

  ‘None at all, love, but they’ll train me, and, if I’m successful, I’ll be earning a lot more than I do here in Cold Brook Vale.’

  ‘Where will you stay? And what about me? Us?’

  ‘You’ll join me as soon as I get us a place to live. Imagine, Zena love: I might be travelling abroad selling and making contacts with firms who make the stuff. What d’you think of that, then? Marvellous? Such good luck to have heard of it. We’ll be rich in a few years. The wages are unbelievable. And I’ve been offered a room in Stanley’s flat, so you needn’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.’

  ‘You are going to work in London? Leaving Cold Brook Vale? But how could this happen so suddenly? We spent the day together on Monday discussing our engagement party and today you tell me you have a new job and a room in Stanley’s flat in London!’

  ‘Sorry to spring it on you like this, love, but it happened so fast and I had to make a decision there and then after the interview. It’s such a wonderful opportunity and I had no time to discuss it with you.’

  ‘You had plenty of time! You went to London to see a friend and without any hesitation you were offered a job? Come on, Jake, I’m not stupid. You knew about the job before you went, didn’t you?’

  ‘Well, yes. But nothing was certain, and I thought it best to wait and tell you once it was all arranged.’

  Zena felt physically sick. This wasn’t the first time Jake had acted on impulse, careless of her opinion. ‘The first thing I’ll do is cancel our engagement party. How can I consider marrying someone who can make such life-changing decisions without discussing it with me?’

  It took some time and the kitchen didn’t get its coat of paint, but Zena eventually accepted his explanations, but the party was cancelled. Zena made him understand that a wedding would depend on what happened during the next few months. She felt the pain of doubt clouding her mind – not for the first time.

  Marrying Jake had been her life plan since they were at school together and she just couldn’t imagine a life without him. Unreliable he definitely was, but she believed that his love for her was the one believable fact amid his vague attitude towards the truth.

  The plan to buy a house large enough to run as a bed and breakfast had long been their dream. Her parents’ garage and one of the spare rooms were already filled with items they had bought or had been given.

  They intended to attract summer visitors, then perhaps students during the winter. Jake was very capable at simple building maintenance and gardening. He would grow their own food, and keep chickens and she would do the cooking and the housekeeping and— She stopped the dream right there. If Jake settled in London it would never happen. They would grow apart, the simple certainty of his love and the plans for their life together would be gone.

  The prospect of them separating, being alone facing an empty future was frightening. Everything had changed: she was no longer a young woman planning to marry the man she loved, and who loved her, a woman with a dream: she was on her own.

  Zena said little as they went to his lodgings to deposit his shopping. She was thinking of how to tell her parents and her friends, but not yet. She had to accept it herself before she could allow the opinions of others to intrude. They went on to the house above the lake where her parents lived, but didn’t go in. Zena needed to sort out what she would say to them first. A rough, steep path led down from the house, called Llyn Hir – long lake – and they walked down to stand on the narrow shore and look across the calm water. A raft moved gently, attached to a double loop of rope creating a pulley system by which the raft could be pulled across the lake. It had made a safe place for them to play as children and was still used occasionally for bringing shopping across. More difficult, as there was the path to climb, but used from a sense of nostalgia by her parents.

  Lottie and Ronald Martin listened in silence as their daughter told them of Jake’s new life. After Jake had gone, Ronald held Lottie’s hand and said, ‘It’s painful, I can understand that, darling, but it’s better for this to have happened now, while you have time to decide whether you want to share the life Jake’s chosen so suddenly. Mam and I would hate it if you moved so far away from us, but London must be an exciting place to experience. Don’t you think so, Kay?’ Ronald said, using an affectionate nickname for Lottie. ‘All those historical buildings to explore, so many places to see, theatres and exhibitions. I think it will be an adventure.’ He hoped he was saying what his daughter wanted to hear, but wasn’t sure.

  Her brother Greg said much the same thing and it was when she spoke to Aunty Mabs that she had a more common-sense reaction. ‘London’s a place for you to go on holiday,’ she said emphatically, her rosy cheeks surrounded by her unruly hair that defied a comb and made her look aggressive. ‘Think about what you’ll lose as well as what you would gain.’ She was a short, slim lady and, as thou
gh to make up for her lack of stature, she always shouted and was emphatic in her comments. ‘You know Jake well enough to realize he isn’t the most reliable fish on the slab. To leave all you know and trust to him to look after you, well, it’s your decision, but please, please, don’t decide anything for a while. Right?’

  On the following day, Zena received a phone call from her mother at the office where she worked and, to the disapproval of her boss, she ignored the customer she was advising and said. ‘I have to go. My father’s been taken to hospital!’

  ‘It’s only half an hour before we close for lunch, Miss Martin. You can go then, but don’t be late back.’ Zena ignored him, grabbed her bag and coat and ran out.

  Through the ward doorway she saw Ronald in a bed with a doctor and nurse attending to him. His face was almost as white as the three pillows that supported him. Zena’s brother Greg came with a tearful Aunty Mabs and they waited until the doctor had left. Then Lottie came out and told them he had suffered a heart attack and would be in hospital for a while. Lottie waited until the nurse told her she must go and Greg and Mabs popped in for a few words with Ronald before they all left the hospital to sit and wait anxiously until the evening visiting hour. Mabs was worried. Ronald’s brother, her husband, Frank, had died of a heart attack at forty-eight and it seemed that Ronald, who was fifty-four, had the same weakness.

  The shock of her father’s illness made Zena’s decision about her future with Jake seem less important and life went on with regular visits to Ronald whose recovery was slow. Everything else settled back into an uneasy rhythm.

  Zena had been threatened with dismissal if she ignored an instruction again and she almost wished she had been. Nothing was right in her life. She hated working in the boring office with the boring staff arranging flat and house rentals for boring people. She knew that was a temporary mood and that once her father had recovered and Jake had come to his senses, she would be back to enjoying helping people to make the right decision on where they would live.

  During the weeks after Jake had gone to London, Zena’s days were filled with concern about Ronald and frustration about Jake, who phoned occasionally, usually running out of coins in a matter of minutes. He had written only twice; letters almost as brief as his phone calls, asking her when she would join him, and notes about the places he’d visited and the plays he had seen. In the latest call he asked her to send letters to the office where he worked as the house where he now lived was multi-tenanted and letters were often lost. ‘Madeleine will give them to me,’ he’d said.

  ‘Who is Madeleine?’

  ‘The office secretary. She’s been very kind, showing me around and recommending places to see.’ Zena knew she wouldn’t like Madeleine.

  A few says later she was leaving the rental office, closing the door behind her with a sigh of relief. It was Friday lunchtime, only a few more hours before the weekend. She stood for a moment or two. She had a serious decision to make. With Jake working in London and spending so much time alone in her flat, she had to make a decision on how she wanted to live her life.

  Marriage to Jake was still more or less a certainty, however unreliably he behaved. He’d come back home soon and things would settle down. She would not, could not accept that he would stay so far away from home. They had been together since school and his sudden move to London had unsettled her. She had considered moving to London, but leaving the small town where she was happy and the family and friends she loved was impossible. She needed to talk to Jake but that was impossible too. There was no one with whom she could discuss it. Her mother and father refused to utter a decisive comment either way; her brother Greg liked Jake and thought him great fun; Aunty Mabs had always been very outspoken and critical about her choice of husband and gave her opinion that if Zena married the unreliable Jake Williams, she would be making a big mistake.

  She tried to push the problem out of her mind and picked up a daily paper, the Radio Times and some sweets, her weekly treat for Aunty Mabs. As she turned the corner to where her aunt lived in a small block of flats, she saw the twitch of the curtains revealing her aunt’s regular watch for her to appear. She smiled, knowing her Aunty would then dash to the kitchen and turn on the kettle. Ever since her uncle Frank had died so suddenly, she went to her aunt’s every Friday for lunch.

  ‘It’s only me,’ she called, as she used her key and stepped inside. ‘I’ve brought the papers and some chocolate eclairs.’

  ‘Thank you, darling, I love bein’ spoilt, I do.’ Small, thin and with hair that refused to behave, she held out her arms and Zena went over and hugged her. Mabs then went to the oven and brought out two plates of cottage pie and vegetables.

  ‘Come on, gel, eat it while it’s hot. There’s a wicked cold wind today and you need something to keep you from getting a chill.’ Fussing, making sure everything was in its place she sat opposite Zena and smiled. ‘How’s old misery today?’ Zena laughed, knowing her aunt referred to her boss Graham Broughton, a man who strutted rather than walked and considered his role as manager was to criticize at every opportunity.

  ‘I have to leave that place but I can’t decide what I want to do next.’

  ‘Going up to London to join Jake? That’s what you’re thinking about, is it?’

  ‘I should be with him.’

  ‘When you decided to marry him he was working here. Then he got a job that meant being away for weeks at a time. International rep he calls himself. Makes him sound more important, and him never before going further than Bristol! Did he discuss it with you before taking the job? No, he did not! And London! It isn’t even in Wales!’ she ended in disgust.

  ‘All right, he should have discussed it, but he thought that if the decision had already been made then I’d have to agree.’

  ‘Bullying, that’s what that is, love. Making it impossible for you to disagree.’

  Zena laughed. ‘Jake, a bully?’

  Mabs tightened her lips but only said, ‘There’s more cottage pie if you’d like some.’

  ‘I’m thinking of staying with Mam and Greg until Dad’s on the mend. He’s been back in hospital, but the doctors think he’ll be home in a few days and Mam would be glad of my help.’

  ‘Keep a low heat on in your flat, darling, there’s some bitter cold weather coming.’

  ‘Thanks for the reminder; I will. The last thing I need is a burst pipe.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Best I get back or I’ll be in trouble.’

  ‘Give your notice why don’t you? A girl of your age shouldn’t be unhappy.’

  ‘And join Jake in London?’

  ‘Perish the thought!’

  Zena laughed at Mabs’s outspoken comment but she was serious as she strolled slowly back to the office. She had only said what Zena herself had been thinking for some time. Jake and London was one decision; the job where she was unhappy was another. She stood at the kerb and waited for the traffic to allow her to cross and saw a bus coming. She stood back and waited, in case her brother Greg was driving. A horn sounded and she saw his hand wave as he drove past slowly and stopped at the nearby bus stop.

  ‘See you at the hospital at seven,’ he called, before driving off.

  She sighed. Why couldn’t Jake have been content to stay in this small town where they had been born and had lived all their lives? Greg was a bus driver, like Uncle Frank, and he never seemed restless. Why did Jake want them to live so far away from everyone they loved?

  Starting again among strangers didn’t appeal, although, she admitted to herself, she should be grabbing an opportunity to see something of the world with both hands, and besides, shouldn’t she be supporting Jake, not trying to hold him back?

  Greg looked back as he waited for the bus to fill. He could see she was frowning and guessed it was Jake causing the worry. ‘Jake would be a great brother-in-law,’ he told his conductress. ‘He’s fun and quite unpredictable, like the time he gave a wonderful party to celebrate my twenty-first birthday then admitted he had spent m
oney intended to buy a new bike for Zena after giving away hers to the new local nurse who needed one to get to her patients.’

  Jake was always doing things for other people, often at the expense of someone else. He’d heard recently that he had sent a parcel of groceries to a mother who was unable to work because her daughter was ill. There was no insistence on a repayment. And he’d dug a back garden for someone called Roy Roberts when he couldn’t manage it himself. Greg had given him a torch for use during the dark winter months but that was now in the pocket of the street cleaner who often started before the sun was up.

  Now he cheerfully announced that he had a new job and they would be moving to London. Yes, Jake would be a great brother-in-law but, Greg realized, that didn’t make him an ideal husband. Perhaps he should call on the way home from work, get Zena talking, try to help her to think out loud, as Aunty Mabs would put it. But perhaps he’d talk to Aunty Mabs first, she would know how best to approach the subject. As he finished his shift, the idea fizzled out like a dead firework and days passed.

  He did call on Mabs but said nothing about his sister. Mabs glanced at the clock anxiously. Her bus was due at 9.45 and she didn’t want to miss it. Greg began to reminisce about her husband, his Uncle Frank, who had given him the idea of becoming a bus driver like himself with his stories about life on the road, as he called it.

  ‘My Frank would still be here, driving his bus, if it hadn’t been for that big huge win on the football pools,’ she said sadly. ‘Biggest regret of my life that I didn’t throw the coupon in the ash bin instead of posting it.’

  ‘You don’t really think that, do you?’

  ‘It was too much. He spent ages thinking about how we’d spend it. Travel? A better flat? Fancy furniture and clothes? Such nonsense kept him awake at night. We didn’t need any of it.’

  ‘You could spend it on moving nearer to Mam and Dad, or closer to the shops?’

  ‘I won’t spend it; I’d feel wicked and uncaring to use the money that killed him. I did buy a fridge – we’d never had one of those, and I used some to do something your uncle would have approved of. But that’s all. I won’t touch the rest. I don’t need it.’

 

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