All in the Mind

by Judith Cranswick

  Todd, as well as Justin, seemed pleased to see Sarah and, for the first half hour, few of the adults got a word in as the boys prattled on. Todd looked so much better than when Sarah had last seen him and, although the diagnosis had caused alarm in the rest of the family, Todd appeared totally unconcerned about his now identified condition.

  Once the boys had parted with their news, and they all sat down for lunch, the conversation became more strained. Jenny, her body tense and withdrawn, hung on to her gloom like a baby with its blanket, refusing all efforts to prise it away. The rest of them tried to jolly things along but it was hard going.

  When they had cleared the table, Sarah insisted her mother should sit down and put her feet up.

  ‘You’ve been on the go all morning. Jenny and I will deal with the washing up,’ she said firmly.

  She expected her mother to protest, but for once, catching Sarah’s eye, she acquiesced. Jenny glowered at her sister. Though she was always ready to help her mother, it was evident she’d no desire to be alone with Sarah.

  ‘Do you want to wash or dry?’ Sarah asked brightly once she’d closed the door.

  ‘Whatever,’ Jenny shrugged noncommittally.

  Sarah chattered on, forcing Jenny into occasional one-word replies, until they had almost finished and then she broached the subject she’d been angling to bring up.

  ‘Mum’s very worried about you, you know?’

  ‘It’s not me she should be worried about.’ Jenny put the wet tea towel over the rail on the radiator and turned to face Sarah, arms folded defiantly across her chest.

  ‘Todd’s condition isn’t life-threatening,’ Sarah tried to reason, watching the jaw tighten.

  ‘Don’t you realise Crohn’s disease is incurable?’ Jenny snapped.

  ‘But not untreatable. With the proper drugs, they will be able to keep things under control. He’ll be able to live a perfectly normal life just like any other child. It doesn’t have to be a big thing,’ Sarah said, reassuringly.

  ‘But he’ll be on steroids for the rest of his life!’

  Sarah bit back her response about diabetics and insulin and all the other complaints that people manage to learn to cope with.

  ‘And it will affect his growth!’

  ‘But now they know what the problem is they can do something about that.’

  ‘What makes you such a bloody expert all of a sudden?’ Jenny fired at her.

  Sarah gritted her teeth and said firmly, ‘For everyone’s sake, most of all Todd’s, we have to be positive. Have you considered joining a support group? You don’t have to go to meetings. If you don’t want to discuss things face to face, there are all sorts of message boards on the Web.’

  ‘What gives you the right to tell me what to do?’ Jenny demanded at the top of her voice; chin thrust forward, fists clenched.

  ‘Do you want the crappy answer? Because I’m your sister and I love you. Because that’s not what you’re going to get.’ All the pent up frustration she been nursing for the last week was released with a vengeance. ‘The truth is, it’s high time you stopped playing the tragedy queen relishing every spot of pain you can wring from all of this. You don’t give a damn about your husband or Mum and Dad who you are making go through every kind of hell. You’ve rejected Justin, who you’re in dire danger of losing forever if you don’t show him at least a hint that you have some feeling for him. And most of all, because if you really cared about Todd, you’d think about his needs. It’s time you started treating him like a human being and not some doll on whom you can play out your ridiculous fantasies.’

  Jenny stood stock-still, wide-eyed and speechless, pure hatred written in every line of her face. For a long minute, there was absolute silence, neither of them moved. Suddenly Jenny turned and ran out slamming the door with a force that shook the whole house.

  Why couldn’t she keep her big mouth shut? She hadn’t planned to say any of that. Sarah doubted that she even believed it. So much for all the counselling courses she’d sat through in her time! She was the one guilty of forcing a chasm between the two of them that she might never be able to cross again. She was becoming quite the expert. First her husband and now her sister. She should write the definitive paper on “Ten Top Tips on How to Alienate Your Loved Ones.” Jenny was an amateur compared with her.

  Slowly, she finished putting away the saucepans and wiping down the surfaces, postponing the moment when she would have go back in the living room and face everyone’s hostility. When she could find nothing more to do, she opened the door and ventured into the hallway. At least they were all still in the house. It wouldn’t have surprised her to discover Jenny dragging Greg and the boys down the path to their car. Though she couldn’t make out the words, she could hear Jenny’s voice furiously growling away at top speed. The tirade was far from over. Sarah’s hand was on the doorknob but, at the last minute, her courage failed her and she crept upstairs.

  She took her time brushing her hair, dabbing her shiny nose with powder and applying more lipstick. Her case was already packed so she had no more excuses to remain upstairs. Perhaps she could plead the need to get back early to finish off some work and leave now, but, even so, she would have to face them all first.

  Silence greeted her entrance. It was a long walk to the only vacant seat at the far end of the settee next to Justin.

  ‘How’s school?’ she asked him in as jovial a voice as she could muster.

  ‘Fine. Did I tell you I got ten house points for my English essay?’ he said with evident pride. ‘I wrote about getting chased by bullocks. Mrs Hudson said I’d made it sound very exciting.’

  ‘That’s one word for it I suppose.’ They both laughed at the memory.

  The two boys seemed unaware of the atmosphere in the room, or perhaps they simply refused to be cowed by it. They chattered on, gradually involving the rest of them until only Jenny sat, with a face like thunder, determined to distance herself from everyone. Greg, doing his best to pretend that all was normal, asked Sarah how things were going at the college. Not surprisingly, it was evident that her mother had not said anything about her car being stolen or the death of a colleague, and this wasn’t the time to mention it. After a few glib, non-committal sentences, they talked about his job at the garage. The place where he used to work had gone bankrupt a few years previously. Things were difficult for six months or so until he had been able to get another job as a mechanic at Mann Egerton’s over in Hellesdon.

  Eventually it was time for the mid-afternoon cup of tea and Sarah jumped to her feet before anyone else could volunteer to go and make it. It was a relief to reach the haven of the kitchen. She took as long as she could in sorting out cups and saucers and the like. How much longer they could all keep up this polite let’s-pretend-it-never-happened situation was anybody’s guess but the cracks were definitely beginning to show. Only the boys seemed to be able to let it pass over their heads, totally unconcerned about the adult tension.

  It was a relief when five o’clock eventually came and Sarah could legitimately get up and take her leave. Greg insisted on going upstairs with her to bring down her case. Once they reached her bedroom, she tried to apologise for upsetting Jenny but he quickly cut her short.

  ‘Don’t feel bad about it. Someone needed to tell her and no one else has got the gumption.’

  ‘She told you what I said?’

  ‘Not exactly, but your voice carries a bit. You can tell you’re a teacher.’ He smiled sheepishly. ‘Seriously, you’re one of the few people she’ll listen to. She trusts you completely. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but she wouldn’t react the way she has if you didn’t mean anything to her. She’s always admired you, the big successful sister. You were a hard act for her to follow.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘She’s always wanted to be like you but she knew she’d never make it. She hasn’t your brains or your drive.’

  ‘That’s silly. I never thought any the less of her because she d
idn’t go to university.’

  ‘She knows that deep down. It’s just that at the moment, when things are tough, you’re the easiest to lash out at. Every now and again she still feels jealous.’

  ‘I don’t see why,’ Sarah interrupted vehemently.

  ‘You’re successful with lots of money, an important job you can be proud of and, as she sees it, you have no ties and no responsibilities,’ he went on quickly.

  ‘I’m the one who should be jealous,’ she said truthfully. ‘Jenny has got the perfect husband and two smashing kids. Everything any woman could want.’

  He grinned ruefully. ‘She’ll come round. She’s not really a selfish person you know. She knows she’s in the wrong but she’s not good at saying sorry.’

  ‘That’s something we both share I’m afraid, Greg. It’s a word neither of us have ever learnt to say easily.’ She let out a great sigh. ‘I suppose I’d better go and eat humble pie.’

  As Greg carried down her case and carried it out to put in the boot of her car, the family came out to say goodbye. All but Jenny. Sarah stood in the doorway of the living room. She called her name but Jenny continued to flick through the magazine in her lap.

  ‘I shouldn’t have let rip at you like that. I’m sorry.’

  Jenny made no reply and continued reading.

  Outside by the car, kisses were exchanged, both boys gave her an affectionate hug and everyone lined up to wave her off. Only Jenny stayed skulking indoors, but as Sarah turned to give everyone a last wave, she caught sight of Jenny standing at the window, half hidden by the curtain, watching her go. Sarah could not tell if Jenny saw her blow her a kiss.

  Chapter 30

  ‘The funeral is the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘With half the college there I presume. Are you going to have to say anything?’ Elizabeth asked.

  ‘No tributes, thankfully. It’s going to be a very small affair. Her sister thought that’s what Eunice would have wanted so, apart from family and close friends, it will be just me and Sir Richard.’

  ‘I don’t blame her. Bad enough to lose a sister without having to worry that the whole thing might turn into a media circus after all that stuff in the papers.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  After a pause, Elizabeth asked, ‘So, did you have a good weekend?’

  Sarah groaned, ‘Disastrous if you must know, but I’ll tell you all the gory details when I see you. What time shall I pick you up on Saturday? Ten o’clock?’

  ‘Make it nine. That will give us more time to do some Christmas shopping.’

  ‘I thought you said this was going to be a fun weekend?’ Sarah protested. ‘A wander round Bath looking at the sights, a slap-up meal and then the theatre!’

  ‘Stop being such a spoilsport. You’ll love it.’

  ‘I hate shopping at the best of times,’ Sarah muttered into the mouthpiece.

  ‘So how many more presents have you got to get?’

  ‘All of them,’ Sarah admitted.

  ‘Just what I thought. It’ll be a great opportunity. And you’ll only have three weekends after that to get it all done in time for Christmas.’

  ‘Don’t remind me,’ Sarah sighed.

  The trip to Bath was part of their girls’ weekend together. It had been planned way back in the summer, when Graham had booked a golfing trip at the end of November. They had toyed with the idea going away to a hotel somewhere but, on the assumption that the weather might be cold and miserable, they’d settled for a day out with Elizabeth staying overnight at Sarah’s place followed by a lazy Sunday.

  Governors’ meetings were never exciting affairs. Every now and again, they had their moments but usually they were little more than drawn-out talking shops. The real decisions were made elsewhere well in advance, thrashed out in the various subcommittees. Nevertheless, as with all such groups, some members saw it as an opportunity to score points or to air his or her particular hobbyhorse. Others just liked the sound of their own voices. It was not unusual for a meeting, which had begun at seven, to still be going strong long after ten o’clock. When all its members were unpaid volunteers, albeit with some nominated from various interested elected bodies, and each demanded to have his say, it was not possible to use company boardroom disciplines to curtail the proceedings.

  After a particularly lengthy and arduous meeting some twelve months earlier, with Sir Richard muttering darkly about instituting a guillotine for each item on the agenda, Sarah had suggested that they changed the timing of the meeting. Although it was not possible for the majority of these busy people to take time off from their paid employment, if the college provided a buffet, they could have a working lunch. The necessity to get back to their various offices within a reasonable amount of time might help to keep the discussion focused.

  Once the idea was put to the full board, despite some predictable objectors, the decision to give it a trial run was warmly greeted by the majority. For the first time, she had scored a few Brownie points with Sir Richard.

  For the November meeting, Sarah was there early as usual to check that the room was in order. Sir Richard was invariably one of the first arrivals but she had little time to talk to him as the room began to fill. Inevitably, Eunice’s death was the main topic of conversation and, almost without exception, the governors came over to express their condolences. Several people even made a point of asking how Sarah was as though Eunice had been a close family member rather than a colleague.

  The majority of governors tended to turn up only a minute or so before meetings began and this occasion was no exception. Sarah was helping the latecomers to coffee, when Charles Shorecross, the Vice Chairman of Governors, appeared at her elbow.

  ‘I hope you’re feeling better. This latest tragedy must have made things so much more difficult for you,’ he said almost solicitously. Charles, the Financial Director of Applegate Semiconductors, one of the town’s biggest employers, was a pedantic little man, and rarely made himself agreeable, especially to Sarah. She tried to console herself with the thought that his dislike wasn’t personal – the man was a misogynist.

  Before she could reply, John Clarke, who had overheard him, cut in, ‘I didn’t know you’d been ill, Sarah what’s been the matter?’

  An empty cup was suddenly thrust under her nose and Sarah had to turn away and give her attention to pouring coffee.

  ‘It takes a while to get over such an unpleasant experience and poor Dr Harcourt hasn’t been herself since that nasty mugging incident before the start of term.’ The two men were already moving off to take their places at the main table but, when she caught the phrase, ‘having a few problems,’ she decided not to let the odious little man get away with such distortions.

  With an apologetic smile, she thrust the coffee jug into the hands of the next person in the queue and hurried after the two men.

  ‘I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed.’ She gave Charles her sweetest smile. ‘It’s true I had my bag snatched but it really was nothing more than an inconvenience. Now where on earth did you hear that I haven’t been myself?’

  ‘Several people mentioned what an upset you’d had,’ he said warily.

  ‘Really? And who was that?’ she persisted.

  ‘I can’t remember exactly,’ he blustered looking more than a little put out.

  There was no opportunity to pursue their conversation as, at that moment, Sir Richard tapped on the table and asked everyone to take their places.

  It was not the most auspicious start to the meeting and every time she glanced in his direction, she saw Charles giving her one of his tight-lipped stares that did not bode well.

  After the predictable tribute to Eunice and the measures set in place to cope with her loss, the first part of the meeting passed relatively uneventfully with Sir Richard keeping things moving along in his habitual crisp style. It was not until item five on the agenda – the faculty review – that problems arose. This was still a highly contentious issue, and a few frowns met her gaze as
she glanced around the table.

  ‘We are all aware that, although the overall student numbers continue to grow, several courses have shown a steady decline in the last five years, the engineering courses in particular.’ Several heads nodded as Sir Richard summed up the problem. ‘Some areas are expanding rapidly as a result of local and national employment demands or, like the Theatre Studies, because of the good reputation those courses now enjoy. Dr Harcourt has collated the statistics for the last few years and calculated the future trends. You might all like to take a few minutes to look through them before we go any further.’

  ‘It’s a pity we weren’t sent a copy last week with the all the other reports prior to the meeting,’ Charles Shorecross said loudly, glaring across at Sarah.

  ‘I apologise for not being able to include this analysis,’ Sarah responded evenly. ‘As you know, it takes some time to enter the data and consider possible permutations. Unfortunately, I only had the complete set of this year’s figures to work on myself last thing on Friday.’ She passed round the papers and there was silence as everyone studied the various sheets of tables.

  ‘Media Studies has shown the highest percentage rise,’ someone pointed out.

  ‘True, but it doesn’t have the most students. The totals for quite a number of courses can fluctuate wildly from year to year,’ Sarah pointed out. ‘As you can see, the groupings within each of the five faculty areas are no longer sensible. Business Information Systems is now three times the size of Technology and the figures would seem to indicate that that trend will increase.’

  ‘Mr Chairman, I’m sorry to interrupt,’ Charles Shorecross paused for dramatic effect. ‘These figures on the individual faculty reports and those on Dr Harcourt’s statistical analysis don’t seem to agree.’