“Dad, you promise to tell me straight away if you’re ill or worried about your health, won’t you?”
“I’m not ill, Janie,” Harry replied.
“No! I mean if you do feel ill you’ll tell me straight away, promise me,” begged Janie.
“Of course I will, Janie, I’m not as stubborn as Bea, or as brave for that matter. Now stop worrying over things beyond all our control and help your old dad back up to the house, I’m bloody freezing to death out here.” Janie was about to chastise her father for making fun of her when she realised he was only trying to make light of the situation.
“I’m counting on you living past hundred,” teased Janie back. “So, let’s get you inside before you collapse with pneumonia.”
“A hot cup of tea with a drop of whiskey in will see me right,” Harry replied.
“I’m sure it will,” agreed Janie as they made their way out of the summer house and up the garden path to the cottage.
GEORGE
June 1983
George looked around the room. It was the community room of the sheltered dwelling he’d been living in since walking out on Ethel. There were thirty-two bungalows on the close. Twenty of them were two-bedroomed and the rest all had one bedrooms. Up until tomorrow he was a one-bed occupant but after today he’d be moving across the green into Rose’s two-bedroomed bungalow. He looked across to his left at his new blushing bride, Rose Whittaker, that was. Now she was Mrs Rose Arnold. She looked absolutely beautiful in her pale pink lace dress and matching jacket. George smiled to himself. He’d have never dreamt in his wildest dreams that at the ripe old age of eighty-two he’d be getting married to a lively seventy-seven-year-old. Oh, how much his life had changed since the day he walked out on Ethel.
Images of Bea came rushing into his head. Bea as a new born all wrinkly and pink. Taking her first steps unaided. Singing along to the radio while dancing around the room. Bea still waving as his train went out of sight of the station taking him away to war. Bea all grown up sitting in Harry’s lounge. The endless talks, the catching up, the walks along the beach. Then Bea sitting lifeless in the lounger on the cottage terrace.
“George, honey,” came Rose’s gentle voice. He looked at his new wife. He didn’t need to explain why he’d been so far away, lost in his own world. She just instantly knew.
“I wish she was here too, George; doesn’t seem right, does it? You and me in our twilight years getting married and one so young already gone.” Rose entwined her arm through his. “I bet she’s looking down on us though, checking we’re having a good time.”
George smiled. That’s exactly what she’d be doing, he thought. “I bet she’d be wondering when you were going to ask me to dance, as well.” George smiled and nodded his head at Rose. She was a canny woman, this one, and he loved for it.
“I’ve no doubt she would, Rose, no doubt at all! So, let’s hit the floor and show these young’uns how to dance properly, eh?”
“You bet we will!” giggled Rose.
George gently guided Rose around the community room floor and their guests gathered round the edges and cheered them on. George looked at the gathered faces as he waltzed around the room. For a brief moment, he thought he caught a glimpse of Bea’s face smiling back at him through the crowd.
JOSEF
Bangkok, June 1983
Josef stumbled back into the flea-bitten bedsit he was renting and slumped up against the wall. The door slammed shut on the dinghy corridor outside. On the opposite side of the small, dirty room, framed against peeling wallpaper, hung a mottled old mirror. Josef staggered across the room to take a closer look at his reflection. Gone were the boyish good looks, the dark, sultry eyes and smooth olive skin. His skin looked like he was suffering from a bad case of acne and it had an almost yellow tinge to it. His eyes were just sunken, lifeless black holes. He looked like a vagrant. Liked he’d been sleeping out on the streets for weeks, months on end. What had happened to him?
‘The band’ had happened to him, that’s what! For the first few weeks it had been fun. The band would perform, he’d take photographs then afterwards they’d party. At first it was just harmless drinking games. Then it was drinking and a few puffs of a joint. Then somehow it had spiralled into LSD, magic mushrooms, uppers, downers, coke and heroin. In the beginning, the band or one of the hangers-on had supplied the drugs for free. Then he’d started dipping into the money he’d worked so hard for to travel abroard with Janie. Sweet, sweet Janie. But now that money was almost gone so he’d phoned home to ask for more.
Josef hadn’t been in touch since the day he’d left with the band. His mother had cursed at him down the phone for being such a selfish boy, then had handed him over to his father. His dad had promised to wire him some money first thing in the morning with the condition that he was to use it to return home. Josef had told his dad he would, but he had no intention of spending that money on anything other than drugs to feed his habit. His father had then informed him of Janie’s Aunt Bea having died back in April. The call had ended with thoughts of sweet, sweet Janie filling his addled brain as he’d staggered back up the hotels stairs to his room.
Now, here he was, staring at his reflection wondering why the hell he’d ever let himself sink so low. He was nothing more than a drug addict. A DIRTY, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING DRUG ADDICT. Janie wouldn’t have allowed this to happen! Janie would have taken him away, saved him. But Janie had been the one to abandon him! Hadn’t she? She’d wanted to save dear old Aunt Bea! Well, that hadn’t worked out too well, had it?
“FOR CHRIST’S SAKE’S, JOSEF,” he screamed at his reflection. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING? LOOK AT YOURSELF FOR FUCK’S SAKE! YOU’RE A FUCKING MESS! A FUCKING TOTAL WASTE OF FUCKING SPACE!” Josef dropped down to his knees and banged his fists on the floor. He was a total fuck-up. He’d gone in search of fame and fortune when he’d already been the luckiest guy alive having Janie by his side. Tears of self-pity rolled down his face. He didn’t wipe them away. He let them fall. He needed all this self-righteousness to wash out of him. He needed to take back control of his life. He needed to get back to Janie. He needed to get clean. He needed to act now. He needed to stop the ache, the pain. He looked across at the small piece of folded foil on the coffee table. At the spoon, the lighter, the ashtray. Just one more hit wouldn’t hurt, would it?
Josef crawled across to the table and with trembling hands began to unfold the foil to reveal the precious brown powder. Just this last hit, he thought. Just to help me think straight. Just to silence the pain, the ache. He dragged himself up onto the strained and ripped seat of the only chair in the room. A gentle breeze blew in through the open window, bringing with it the noises of the Bangkok street life below. It snatched the foil from Josef feeble grip and sent the heroin spiralling in its wake around the room. Josef relaxed back in the chair and for the first time in ages a smile danced across his face, lighting up his eyes. There’d be more no hits for him tonight. Tonight, he’d have to go cold turkey.
MEGAN & JANIE
Sea View Cottage, June 1983
“Dave’s coming Saturday morning and stopping for the night, if that’s okay?” began Megan. “We’ll head off late Sunday morning to New Quay, to meet the Harris’s. It’ll be so nice to finally get to look around Aunt Bea’s shop and maisonette.” They were both lazing on loungers outside the sun house at the bottom of the garden. It had always been Janie’s favourite spot on sunny days, the cool interior of the sun house a welcome retreat for the redhead.
“What a daft question, Megan!” replied Janie. “This cottage maybe mine but it’s still a place for all the family.”
“I’m just letting you know, that’s all!”
“Yeah! For the hundredth time,” mocked Janie, as she got up off the lounger and headed into the shade of the sun house. “Fancy a glass of squash? It should still be cold.”
“I’m just excited, that’s all,
” explained Megan, then added, “anything to eat with that drink?” She could hear doors and lids being opened and closed and then the squash being poured into beakers.
“I’ve found a packet of salted nuts and a bag of Quavers in the cupboard, and I’ve got a banana, an apple, two satsumas, a Mars bar and a Curly Wurly in the cool box,” called back Janie.
“Oooh! A satsuma and a Mars bar, please,” replied Megan. She heard Janie reopen the lid on the cool box and then close it. Moments later, Janie appeared at her side, blocking out the sun, as she leant over with a beaker of squash in one hand and a Mars and satsuma in the other. Megan hauled herself up into a sitting position and took the items from her cousin.
They sat in silence as they enjoyed their impromptu picnic and admired the view. Janie had chosen to sit on one of the cane armchairs just inside the opened double doors of the sun house, enjoying a respite from the heat of the midday sun. Once Megan had finished her little feast she lay back on her lounger, face down so she could tan her back, while still being able to both talk and see Janie.
“I’m excited about the shop but I’ve also got a surprise for Dave as well,” began Megan. “But you have to promise not to say a word to him when he arrives.”
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” asked Janie.
“No, of course not,” giggled Megan.
“Don’t know what you find so funny,” Janie snapped back. “That would really throw a spanner in the works.” Megan wondered when the girl she had thought of as her sister had suddenly got so serious.
“It just made me laugh that you thought that was my surprise,” remarked Megan. “You’d normally come up with something more bizarre than that! You saying, ‘are you pregnant?’ is the sort of response I’d have expected from Aunt Bea or Uncle Harry, not you.” Megan looked on as Janie processed what she’d just said. A look of sadness now appeared on her face.
“You’re right! I would have normally come up with something silly, but I guess the last six months have taken its toll on my sense of humour.”
Megan tried to appease Janie.
“It’s understandable, sweetie, but with time you’ll be back to your old self. A little wiser, a little more care-worn, as Bea would say. But you’ll be you again, Janie, I’m sure of it.”
Janie smiled down at Megan, “I hope so, Megan, I really do.”
Megan reached out a hand to Janie and she stretched out and took it, giving it a comedy handshake.
“Now, if you’re not pregnant, what’s the big surprise?” she asked, letting go of Megan’s now-aching outstretched hand. Megan manoeuvred herself round so that she was sitting up on the edge of the lounger facing Janie.
“Dave asked me to pop into the estate agents in Aberystwyth to drop the cheque off for the deposit on a small one-bedroomed flat we’re going to rent together next term, now that I’m moving out of the university halls. Anyway, when I got there it was packed with other students either leaving or collecting deposits, so I had to wait a while to be seen. So, I started looking at the houses etc. being advertised for sale and for rent. I’m not really paying that much attention just scanning across the photographs that’s all, when I come across this little rundown cottage. I’m so taken by the photo that I start to read the details. Turns out, it’s a little smallholding with few farm buildings and a couple of acres of land attached to it. ‘Idyllic, isn’t it?’ comes this voice over my shoulder. I turn to see its one of the estate agents. He goes on to tell me its situated about five miles out of New Quay and, along with a small farmyard, veggie patch and five acres of pasture, it’s also got three acres of woodland. By New Quay! Can you believe it, Janie? Close to the shop Bea left me.”
“Now that’s spooky,” butted in Janie. Megan had told her of the idea that she and Dave had of one day turning the shop and its accommodation into a veterinary practice.
“You can say that again,” remarked Megan.
“So, did you tell the estate agent?”
“Well, not everything, just in case, you know, I – we – decided to buy it. Didn’t want it looking too perfect. I remembered uncle Harry telling us to always play our cards close to our chest when thinking of make a big purchase.”
“Sound advice coming from a man who making a living selling cars,” chortled Janie.
“Exactly,” began Megan. “So, I just said that I had a family member looking to move over that way and would it be possible for me to view it, so I could see if was as suitable as I thought. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I set up a viewing for the next day and talked Barry, a friend of both mine and Dave’s from uni, into coming with me.”
“Won’t he have told Dave?” enquired Janie.
“Nah! Barry guessed straight away what I was up to and decided to play along. It was everything I’d hoped for and more, Janie. It’s up a lovely private lane and the views are something else. The cottage itself is in dire need of renovation. There’s a hole in the roof, no bathroom, no central heating, but it’s wonderful. Even Barry could see its potential and, believe me, Barry has little or no imagination.”
“You didn’t go ahead and buy it, did you?” gasped Janie. Megan gave Janie a cheeky grin.
“No, I didn’t go ahead and buy it. I could have though! In cash as well, and still have had enough left over from my inheritance to do all the work on it.”
“So, what’s the big surprise then?” asked Janie.
“Well, I’ve made arrangements for the estate agent to meet me and Dave there on the Monday morning before we go to afternoon tea at the shop. Only I haven’t told Dave.”
“Why not? Why all the secrecy?” asked Janie. Megan took a sip of her now-warm squash.
“Because Dave has got a chip on his shoulder already about me having all this money and the shop to boot. He worries that I won’t need him, that he’s got nothing to offer me now!” Now it was Janie’s turn to laugh. “It’s not funny, Janie! Dave—”
“Dave told me that Josef was a chauvinist fool who needed to grow up and get with the programme. That women today have minds, money and careers of their own and that men are no longer the be all and end all. Yet here he is acting like a male chauvinist himself.” Megan laughed too but then the reality of what Janie said came back to her.
“So, you see my problem, Janie? Dave will think he can’t afford to buy it right now so end of.”
“OH! MEGAN!” screamed Janie at her. “Don’t give in before you’ve even begun. Dave might not be able to afford it now. He’s working hard like you to become a vet. He’s a few years further on in his studies so he’ll be qualified before you. By the time you’ve qualified he’ll be an established vet earning good money. He’ll be the one supporting you. Then, say in the future you decide to have kids. He’ll be the one out earning the money whilst you’re at home looking after the little ones. You just have to explain to him that you’re investing in your future together now. He’ll be the one who’ll be investing in it after that.”
“Do you really think that’ll work? I mean I have the trust fund from Aunt Bea that supports me while I’m in uni.” Janie came and sat beside Megan on the lounger.
“Truth is, I don’t know, Megan, and neither do you! But if this place is as perfect as you say it is, it’s gotta be worth a try. You just have to make Dave see that it’s for both of you. That if it wasn’t for him and the dreams you share, you wouldn’t be looking at the place. That it’s a home you can build together. He loves you, Megan, and he may have a few chauvinistic traits but he’s not as single-minded as Josef. And he hasn’t got a selfish bone in his body, so don’t write it off just yet. Go take him to see it. For Christ’s sake, if Boring Barry can see potential then I’m sure as hell Dave can.” Megan wrapped Janie in her arms and pecked her cheek.
“I hope so, Janie. I hope so, ’cause I’ve fallen in love with the place.”
“Then so will Dave,” added Janie.
***
Janie was sitting at the desk in Arthur and Bea’s old studio working on the book that she’d promised Bea she’d write after reading all their love letters, when Megan came hurtling in through the door.
“There you are!” she managed to get out between gasping for breath. Janie shuffled round in her chair to see what all the urgency was about.
“Of course I’m here! Where else would I be?” Janie looked on as Megan caught her breath back. Her cheeks were bright red and she had a grin from ear to ear.
“Dave loved it,” she panted. “He loved it so much he let me go right ahead and buy it.”
“Say you offered a lower price, tell me you just didn’t sign on the dotted line?” begged Janie. Megan’s breathing was becoming less laboured now.
“What! And face the wrath of uncle Harry? No way! In fact, Dave even pretended we had to think things over. Told him we had to do some sums, get some professional advice. We went and had afternoon tea with Mr and Mrs Harris at the shop. Even had the guided tour, before we went back to the hotel and rang them. We put in a cheeky low offer then waited for a response. An hour later they rang us back to say it wasn’t quite enough. At this point, we informed them we were cash buyers and could proceed straight away at the offered amount. Half an hour later our offer had been accepted. Yesterday we got the ball rolling and employed a lawyer to oversee the purchase, surveys, all the legal stuff. This morning we spent looking around all the land and its boundaries and coming up with ideas. Oh, I’m so, so happy, Janie,” Megan finished, flinging herself onto Janie’s knee. Janie wrapped her arms around Megan’s waist to stop her sliding off her knee.
Cutting the Cord Page 20