by Stan Mason
‘He should be punished for the misery he caused,’ she began softly. ‘He knocked me down in Cornwall and left me there to die. He must face the consequences! Go back and tell him!’
Wendy Purdy stared at the elderly man sitting opposite her and then at the young couple to determine whether they had heard the voice but they were totally unaware of what had happened. She thought about the comment made by her husband about the woman in yellow and a streak of terror ran through her. He was right! It was possible to hear someone reaching out from the grave, He had been telling the truth! She felt a chill run down her spine and turned her attention to the magazine in her hand for a short while, hoping to erase all the thoughts in her head by reading the agony columns. However fifteen minutes later she realised that all she was thinking about was her husband, his plight, and the voice in her head. She had read somewhere that fifty per cent of all men cheated on their wives. The figure was probably higher. Yet a majority of them were still in love with their wives. For Wendy Purdy, such a comment was a paradox because she could not understand how a man could be in love with his wife and yet enjoy a sexual relationship with other women. Admittedly her knowledge of men was relatively limited, having been pressed between the old wives’ tales told to her by her mother and her marriage to Jim Purdy. Except for the brief platonic relationship with Harry Timson, she had nothing more to draw on in that field of life. As his wife, Purdy had always placed a great deal of reliance upon her and he had always looked in her direction for support. Now, by becoming tired with a mundane unsatisfying life, she was hitting him hard when he was down. When considering that fifty per cent of men strayed with other women, it had to be recognised that many wives actually forgave their husbands for such indiscretions. There was every reason for her to do so and brave out the situation. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer went the marriage vows. She stared out of the window at the countryside speeding by and made a decision to return home. Unfortunately, she had to wait for some considerable time for the train to reach the next station. She could hear the wheels telling her exactly what she should do. “Clickety-clack, you gotta go back! Clickety-clack, you gotta go back!”
In due course, the train pulled in to Knutsford in Cheshire. She removed her suitcases from the rack and alighted, struggling with them to the other side of the track to catch the next train back to London. She wished that she hadn’t told him he would be better off without her in case he believed it to be true. It had all been done in the heat of the moment. Hopefully he had ignored her tirade... he usually did. Whatever she told him seemed to go in one ear and out the other. However her deepest instincts reinforced her desire to get home to him as soon as possible. Almost certain, he would take her in his arms and say: ‘Women! What can you do with them... what can you do without them!’ She always suffered such comments without retaliation and she would do so again. The important thing was to get back to him. Suddenly, home meant everything to her!
Jim Purdy became fired with the flame of freedom. HE had forgotten how good it was to be free... an experience which had ended the moment he got married. In fact the feeling was so great he couldn’t understand why people got married in the first place. By doing so, they were shackling themselves to each other for life often, in real terms, to a person hardly known to them. Nature had the right idea by creating lust and the bedrock for love but civilisation fettered people together by marriage, placing legal stumbling blocks in the way to prevent them form parting if things didn’t work out. He began to realise two new angles in life. The person one married as a youth changed considerably as they mature over a period of time and passed on through the School of Life. The second was that, as time progressed, most married couples went their own way in business or leisurely pursuits. It wasn’t possible to do anything about the first one. It was a natural consequence of growing up and maturing. Reacting to the second angle could cause all kinds of problems creating disharmony and arguments. Life was far too short to live in a constant war between husband and wife therefore it was necessary to make personal qualified concessions. That was what married life was about in the long run, But now he was free... to a degree!’ As Brenda had intimated, it was necessary to obtain a divorce to ensure that he was completely free. But there was one lesson he had learned. He would never ever get married again not if he lived to be ten thousand years old! Female friends would abound and he might even consider living with one of them for a short time... but wives were out! He would become a knight of the road again, Living where he wanted to, going where it suited him, and doing things without complaint or criticism being levied against him. Best of all, there would be no fussing or the need to defend himself. Furthermore, there would be no limit to his personal life. His only problem at present was the deficit in his loan account at the bank. Even that seemed different in the light of the new dawn. Without Wendy, all his responsibilities had been cut loose. He could feel the great yoke lifting from his shoulders. It was like a hundred balloons floating up to the sky to drift into the firmament. All his values became rearranged and he couldn’t imagine why he had been so depressed in the past. It was no longer important to save the house because it wasn’t a marital home any more. He could live in the cabin in his lorry. He didn’t need to provide for his wife so he could out of his pocket, eating and drinking anywhere he liked without the burdens of community charges, water rates, heating expenses, telephone bills, and a whole host of other expenses. They had all faded away into obscurity. His future had become a kaleidoscope which, when you shook it up and down, changed its pattern. If he didn’t like one shape he could always shake it up to get another. Despite his jubilation, there were two matters which still blighted his life. He had killed two people for which he was accountable, and there was the flash of yellow accompanied by the voice of the woman he had run down. It was impossible to turn back the clock. What was done, was done! If he had been responsible for the deaths by dangerous driving he would never have forgiven himself. But they had both been accidents and not necessarily his fault so he felt that he could absolve himself form blame. He couldn’t understand why or how the woman in yellow was haunting him although he seemed to sense that she couldn’t keep it up for much longer. If he resisted her in his mind, instead of buckling every time he saw a flash of yellow or heard her voice, he might be able to free himself from her as well.
He had returned from Consolidated Stores with a full load and was ready to start his run to Manchester, Firstly, there was a task to undertake which counter to his previous moods, he was going to relish. He was going to the bank to discuss business but this time he wasn’t going to be bullied! As he left the house, he threw his arms into the air shouting: ‘I’m free.,... free! And I’m going to the bank to tell them what they can do with their loan!’ Climbing into the cabin of his truck, he found his way to the branch demanding to see the bank manager. He had to wait almost twenty minutes before the opportunity arrived and was shown into an office.
‘How are you feeling?’ asked Williams, scanning the customer’s from his vantage point. ‘I hope we’re not going to have a similar incident like the last time. We were all very concerned.’
‘I bet you were!’ retorted Purdy unfairly. ‘All your hearts must’ve been bleeding for me!’
‘You were shouting something like: “It’s her in yellow oilskins! It’s her!”. I imagined it was the person you knocked down playing on your mind. Have you been to the police yet?’
‘Look Mr. Williams,’ retorted the truck driver. ‘I don’t look into your personal business so don’t interfere in mine! Are we both clear on that point?’
The bank manager stared at him in surprise. Customers didn’t normally take him to task in this fashion or shout at him. If they happened to be audacious or argumentative they were never rude, After all, the driver depended heavily on the goodwill of the bank for his future. He was in no position to bra abrasive.
‘Are you positive you’re
feeling all right?’ he pressed, genuinely concerned for the welfare of the other man. The last thing he wanted was a repeat performance of the outrageous behaviour at the previous interview.
‘I’m feeling fine! I’m free! Free! I don’t suppose you have any idea what that’s like.’
‘Free of what, Mr. Purdy? What are you actually free of?’
‘Well, for a start, my wife’s left me. O joyous day!’
Williams stared at him with concern. He knew that every customer-banker relationship depended on stability. This was reflected in every customer’s status, whether married or not, plus his employment and the family home. If any serious change occurred in their lives, it tended to alter the whole pattern. Jim Purdy was a typical example of the reaction to change of status. At the previous interview, he had been on his knees, begging the bank to support him, intending to do anything to protect his business and his home. Now that his wife had left him, he was acting irrationally. No doubt he would be even less caring about the debt he owed the bank, his business, and his home. Williams was an experienced bank manager who understood the signs only too swiftly. They were not new to him.
‘She might come back... women do,’ he suggested calmly. Couples separate for a while and then discover they can’t do without each other. Once she calms down, I’m sure she’ll return.’
‘But that’s the crux of the matter,’ retorted Purdy excitedly. ‘I don’t want her back! It’s like Heaven without her! If she came back crawling on her knees I wouldn’t take her back.’
‘You ought to take a little longer to think about it. I mean you invested your life with your wife and she depends on you. You can’t simply wipe the slate clean just like that!’
‘You just watch me! I’m free! Free! No one staring over my shoulder any more. No one complaining about my habits, or my clothes, or wiping my feet on the carpet when I get home. It’s great! I was even looking forward to seeing you today, That’s a first! That’s how good it all seems to me,’
‘And what about the business? Do you intend to continue operating with your lorry or have you thought about the suggestion I made? I advocated that you should cease trading on your own and start working for someone else. It may not be what you want in life but everyone has to make sacrifices. Believe it or not, it’s sound advice.’
‘If I did that, I’d be in the pocket of the bank for donkey’s years. I’m not having that!’
Williams stared at him coldly. ‘Neither of us can deny you were loaned a great deal of money. It’s a debt which ahs to be repaid,’
Purdy snorted like a bull. ‘You’re telling me I failed. I’m a bad businessman. I can’t run a haulage business!’
‘I’m not telling you anything, Mr. Purdy. Believe me, I’m trying to help you. But let’s look at the facts. The bank agreed to provide a facility for you so that you could operate as a haulage company. You had intended to buy two more vehicles and hire three drivers with orders that would allow you to make a profit and repay the loan to the bank. But it didn’t happen that way. For some reason, you failed to buy the other trucks or employ any drivers. You should never have used that money if you didn’t continue with the plan. You changed all the ground rules without telling us. How would you feel if you lent me some money to buy a car so that I could use it as a taxi and repay you and then you discovered that I spent it on a long holiday in the Bahamas. You wouldn’t be too pleased about it I wager,’
‘You’re a banker!’ countered the truck driver loudly. ‘You know things don’t always go to plan in business. But you’re safeguarded because you’ve got the deeds of my house. Why should you worry about anything... you’re covered!’
‘The bank never lends money on the bases of security alone,’ explained Williams shaking his head slowly. ‘We lend on the business proposition expecting the funds to establish profits. We don’t want to sell customer’s property when things go seriously wrong. In your case it was a wise precaution. I’m sure you will agree with me.’
‘So where do we go from here?’
‘It’s your choice, Mr. Purdy.’
‘But it isn’t a choice, is it? Either I close down my business and go to work for someone else or you’ll force me to give up.’
‘That’s pretty close to the truth. You’ve already defaulted on the facility on several occasions and you’re way behind now. The bank can’t stand by indefinitely without taking some form of action. You’re clearly not capable of getting the sort of money to bring you back into line. Please prove me wrong if you can.’
‘I’ve got a cheque here for the last load I carried but it’s only a drop in the ocean.’
‘Exactly,’ returned the bank manager tiredly. ‘It takes a long time for the penny to drop with some people, Mr. Purdy, They tend to look in the other direction when they ought to reconsider the position. We all need to look into the mirror sometimes. In your case, this is the moment.’
‘What if we came to some sort of deal, Mr. Williams?’
‘A deal? We’ve already arranged a number of deals with you but you have the irritating habit of breaking them. What sort of deal do you have in mind?’
‘This one’s quite different. Let’s say you take my house and sell it. Your debt will then be repaid. In the meantime you could let me have a small loan so that I could continue my trucking business. I’d be on the road and making profits as well.’
Williams looked at him with an expression of disgust. ‘Not a chance!’ he spat without hesitation affronted by the suggestions. ‘Not the slightest chance!’
‘Why not?’
‘Let’s understand each other clearly. If your debt was repaid we wouldn’t wish to continue the account. Secondly, the amount of the value of your house when it’s sold will not cover the full amount of the loan. There will be a shortfall. Thirdly, the fact that you wife has left you has shifted the ground beneath your credit and your credibility.’
‘Life isn’t fair Mr. Williams,’ returned Purdy unhappily. ‘It isn’t fair!’
‘Tell me something I don’t already know, Mr. Purdy! Do you think I like listening to tales from lorry drivers struggling to save their business? Or chasing debts which have to be repaid by customers and evicting them from their house when they fail to pay. I’d rather be sailing a yacht in the Caribbean with my wife, enjoying the sunshine and fresh air, doing my own thing. But I’m the employee of the bank. I don’t have that option. So don’t complain to me that life’s not fair!’
The driver seemed stunned by the bank manager’s response. People always thought of bank managers as individuals who were the bedrock of society. They seemed to love their work, taking people to task for their financial misdemeanours. It had never occurred to him that Williams was a human-being like everyone else. He had always represented the bank... he was the bank!
‘So there’s no chance of a deal then?’ he summaries finally.
‘The only thing I ought to mention is that if we take possession of your house and sell it quickly... and I mean quickly... there could be something left over for you depending on the level of mortgage still outstanding on it. As soon as it’s sold, if there’s sufficient funds the bank would be repaid. How you want to deal with any excess is your affair but let me add that half of that would belong to your wife. You can get legal advice on that from your solicitor. If it all works out well, settlement could take place in, say, six months’ time.’
‘I can’t wait six bloody months!’ ranted Purdy irately.
‘There’s no alternative. This isn’t a game of Monopoly where you collect money every time you pass ‘Go’. It’s real life!’
The truck driver put his hand in his pocket and drew out a key which he threw on the desk. ‘Okay,’ he told the bank manager. ‘If that’s the way it has to be played, that’s the way it’s got to be. Here’s my front door key. Take my house and sell it as qui
ck as you can. It’s no use to me any more. My wife’s gone and I’ll be driving the truck at nights. What’s the point of me owning a house?’
The bank manager puffed out his cheeks. ‘What happens if she decides to come back in a few weeks’ time?’
‘Nothing! She cut the marriage knot. Let her solve her own problems in future. One thing’s for sure, If she changes her mind, I’m not taking her back!’ And I won’t support her either. So you may as well take the house and we’ll all be out of the mire. He walked towards the door and turned back for a final glance at the bank manager. ‘This is the last time we’ll see each other, Mr. Williams. I have to say that the pleasure’s all mine. I’m sure you’ll be pleased too. We’ve had a pretty turbulent relationship. You can tell your Head Office that you’re going to get your money back. When I reckoned up all the additional charges and interest made on my account, I realised that I didn’t work for myself, I worked for the bank. Well get this, you ass-hole! I don’t work for you any more! I quit!’ With that, he opened the door with ostensible dignity and slammed it behind him.
Williams picked up the key and stared at it. At last he could close the account as soon as the house was sold and he would never have to face the despicable truck driver again. It was indeed a red-letter day! Unfortunately, there were many other people like Purdy on the bank’s books. Not one of them showed any sign of gratitude towards the bank even though it had helped them in their time of need. Yet they were all too willing to complain, default and malign the bank when they failed to keep their obligations. He stared at the small sign resting on the corner of his desk. ‘Don’t lend money... it gives people amnesia!’ How true it was! The bank lent them the money and they forgot they had to pay it back!