by Sandy Taylor
Yes I loved my job, but home and Ralph were a different matter.
According to Ralph, Peggy had had a great time while I was in London. They’d taken a picnic down onto the beach, and she’d paddled in the water. Then Ralph had taken her to Peter Pan's Playground. I had hoped this might have changed her mind but she was still living with Ralph’s mum.’
‘Perhaps she can come again next weekend, and we can all be together. Would you like that, Dottie?’
‘I’d love it. Ralph, if I thought that was what Peggy wanted.’
‘Why do you have to be so pessimistic?’ he’d said, frowning at me.
‘Do you think she wants to be with me? Honestly, Ralph, do you think that’s what Peggy wants?’
‘I don’t know what she wants any more. I just know that somehow or other we’ve got to make this work.’
I suddenly felt tired of the whole thing. ‘Don’t you think I’ve tried?’
‘I’m sorry, yes, of course you’ve tried.’
The only person Peggy wanted to be with apart from her daddy was Fiona. She’d flung that at me the last time I’d seen her, and it had really hurt.
‘She wants Fiona, Ralph, not me.’
Ralph had put his arms around me. ‘But I don’t want to be with Fiona, I want to be with you, and I would like Peggy to be part of us. This will get better – we have to believe that.’
‘I want to, Ralph, I really do.’
But it didn’t get better. Ralph was still going round to his mum’s every evening and most weekends, and I was stuck on my own. I might as well have been living at home. At least there I would have had some company. I decided to take things into my own hands.
I looked through the phone directory and found a primary school ten minutes from work. I decided to go there in my lunch hour. If it was a good school then maybe Ralph could see the logic in it. Peggy would have to leave his mum’s house and live with us.
The school was called Our Lady Star of the Sea, which I thought was a lovely name. It was in an old Victorian building, but it was quite small, and it didn’t look scary. I didn’t want Peggy to be scared. I wanted her to be happy, but she couldn’t keep living with Ralph’s mum. It wasn’t fair on her, and it wasn’t fair on us – something had to change. There were two doors. One said ‘BOYS’ and one said ‘GIRLS’, something leftover from Victorian times when, God forbid, the two sexes might actually mix. I don’t know why but I went through the door marked BOYS. I was in that sort of a mood. The whole place smelt of fish and then I remembered that it was Friday. I couldn’t see anyone that I could speak to, but I could hear the sound of children. I guessed they were eating lunch. Just then a woman walked through the hallway.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked.
‘I’d like to speak to someone about putting a child’s name down for the winter term.’
‘They are all in the dining room. I’ll try to find the head for you. Just wait here, I won’t be long.’
I sat down on a bench and waited. I liked the feel of the place. It was scrupulously clean, the smell of polish mixing in with the smell of fish. The light coming through the long stained-glass window cast rainbow prisms across highly polished floorboards.
A lady was coming towards me. ‘Mrs Doyle,’ she said, smiling.
I stood up and shook her outstretched hand.
‘Dorothy Perks,’ I said.
‘Come into my office.’
I followed her down a corridor, between walls decorated with children’s paintings.
Mrs Doyle’s office was chaotic. Her desk, what you could see of it, was beautiful, as were the panelled walls that ran from floor to ceiling. The old bookcases were filled to overflowing with books of all sizes, and the light streaming through the arched window was amazing.
‘How old is your little girl, Mrs Perks?’ she said, smiling at me.
I wasn’t sure what to say so I plumped for avoidance.
‘She will be five in August.’
‘And you would like her to come here?’
‘We have recently moved to Oriental Place, which is near the Palace Pier, and I have just started working in Kemp Town so we would like a school close by.’
‘Now most parents want their children to come here because we are a Catholic school. I presume you are of the faith.’
I hadn’t realised that this was a Catholic school. The head must have seen the look on my face.
‘You’re not Catholic, are you?’
Not only am I not Catholic I thought, but I’m also living in sin.
‘No, I’m afraid we’re not. Would that be a problem?’
‘Not necessarily, but religion is a big part of the ethos of this school, and we would want your little girl to be part of that. You would need to speak to your husband about it.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I think that would be the best thing.’
I felt so stupid as I walked back up the drive and out the school gates. The school was called Our Lady Star of the Sea for heaven’s sake. Why hadn’t I made the connection? Still, the head hadn’t said she wouldn’t take her. I would have to speak to Ralph.
Ralph was home by 6.30 p.m., which was early for him. I was cooking tea when he came in. I wiped my hands on a tea towel and put my arms around him.
‘Well this is a nice surprise.’
‘Peggy’s gone to the park with her friend and her friend’s mum so I was able to come straight home.’
‘We can eat together,’ I said, kissing him on the cheek.
‘That’s what I thought,’ he said, smiling and producing a bottle of wine out of a carrier bag.
Ralph poured the wine while I dished up the sausage and chips. I cooked for both of us every night, but I usually ended up throwing Ralph’s dinner in the bin. This was lovely and it gave me a chance to tell him about the school that I had visited.
‘I really liked it, Ralph, and it’s just up the road from work. It means I could drop her off in the mornings. She could start in September.’
‘And who’s going to pick her up?’
This was something I had been thinking about. Before Ralph married Mary he had begun an apprenticeship to become a plumber. He had loved it but had to give it up because Mary was pregnant. He was working at the bakery, and although he rarely complained, I knew he hated it.
‘I wondered if you could take up your apprenticeship again.’
‘Plumbing?’
‘You enjoyed it, didn’t you?’
‘Very much.’
‘I’m getting a good wage now, and once I’ve been there a while and proved myself, Tom said that he would give me a raise. I remembered you saying that your days were a lot shorter, so perhaps you could pick Peggy up.’
Ralph didn’t answer right away. ‘Well, I guess it’s something to think about,’ he said eventually.
‘Would they take you back?’
‘I’d have to look into it.’
‘But it could work, couldn’t it?’
‘If they take me back.’
I wanted him to be a bit more enthusiastic about it. I hoped he’d be excited and that he could see the possibilities.
‘Well?’
‘I wished you’d talked to me about it first. I can't be rushed on this. I need to think about it, and I need to see what Peggy thinks.’
I could feel that familiar churning in my stomach. ‘What is there to think about?’
‘There’s a lot to think about.’
‘Such as?’
‘Such as persuading Peggy to go to a different school than her friends.’
‘This is ridiculous, Ralph.’
‘It might seem ridiculous to you, Dottie, but I want my child to be happy.’
‘And you think I don’t?’
‘I’m beginning to think that you don’t want to consider Peggy’s needs at all.’
We glared at each other. This was awful. I did want Peggy to be happy, and I felt hurt that Ralph could say that to me. Aunty Brenda was right. Peggy was
coming between us, and it scared me.
35
I never mentioned the school again. In fact I never mentioned Peggy again. I felt defeated by the whole thing. Ralph and I moved around each other. We were polite; we were kind. We left for work in the morning and kissed as we went our separate ways. I ate alone every evening. He came home later and later – sometimes I was already in bed. We stopped making love. I didn’t know what to do, and I felt too ashamed to talk about it, even to Mum.
Thank God for Tom Brown and Millie. I threw myself into my work and eventually found that elusive diamond in the rough. I’d read the first couple of pages and then taken it home with me. The book was written by someone called Matthew Smith. The title of the book was A Place Beyond the Mountain.
It told the story of a young boy called Simmi who wanted to leave his small village in Africa to travel to a place of learning, a place where he could discover the world. A place beyond the mountain. It was so beautifully written that I couldn’t put it down. His description of the little village was so real that I could almost feel the searing heat and relentless dust. I could smell the white and yellow acacia trees that grew in the garden. I was there beside the boy as he climbed the baobab tree and looked out towards the mountain. It was a story of hope, inspiration and eventual victory against all the odds. I was still reading it when later that evening Ralph came home.
I looked up from the book and smiled at him.
‘You look happy,’ he said, sitting down beside me.
I showed him the book. ‘It’s wonderful.’
Ralph nodded. ‘It’s nice to see you smiling, my love.’
And suddenly I felt the tears on my cheek. I’d missed this gentleness between us. I’d missed Ralph.
He held me in his arms. We didn’t speak – there was no need. That night we made love, and I fell asleep dreaming of a boy who had a dream, just like Mary.
There was a bounce in my step the next day as I negotiated the wonky wooden stairs to the office. Perhaps this was the start of a new understanding between Ralph and I. Perhaps we could begin to work things out – be happy again.
Millie burst through the door. ‘I’ve just laddered my new nylons on those bloody stairs. They cost me one and eleven. Has one of us got to break our neck before something’s done? How come you look so happy?’
‘Well for a start I haven’t laddered my nylons and secondly…’ I held up the book.
‘You haven’t?’
‘I jolly well have.’
‘You really think it’s good?’
‘It’s amazing.’
‘Have you told Tom?’
‘He’s not in yet.’
‘What’s it called?’
‘A Place Beyond the Mountain.’
‘Good title.’
‘Good book.’
‘Bloody stairs,’ said Tom, launching himself through the door.
‘You too?’ said Millie.
‘Why, what happened to you?’
‘New nylons that cost me one and eleven.’
‘Take it out of petty cash.’
‘Oh, thanks, Tom. What happened to you?’
‘The same, new nylons.’
I loved Tom’s sense of humour.
‘Dottie’s got something for you.’
Tom raised an eyebrow. I held out the book.
‘Now that’s worth laddering my nylons for. My little diamond?’
I nodded. ‘I think so.’
‘Have you read it all?’
‘Enough to know it’s pretty special.’
‘Then I hope that I will find it just as special.’
‘I think you will. I really think you will.’
‘Bravo,’ said Tom, going into his office clutching the book. ‘Where’s my coffee, woman?’ he shouted, winking at Millie as he went into his office.
‘Coming right up, sir,’ said Millie, laughing.
‘No phone calls, Millie, just lots of caffeine and doughnuts. I am going to bury myself in Dottie’s little find.’
‘Your wish is my command.’
‘Gosh, I hope I’m right,’ I said, suddenly doubting myself.
‘Have faith. Anyway Tom will soon tell you if you’re not. He can sniff out a bestseller a mile off.’
I ran down to the little bakery on the corner for the doughnuts, the smell of baking made my tummy growl. I gave the doughnuts to Millie and settled down at my desk and thought about last night. There was a warm feeling in my tummy, which made a change from the anxious feeling I had been carrying around with me for weeks.
At four o’clock Tom emerged from his office. Millie and I stopped what we were doing and stared at him. It was hard to tell from his face what he was thinking. Then he gave a huge smile. ‘Bingo!’ he said.
I got up from my desk. ‘Really? You liked it? You really liked it?’
Then Millie got up and we did a silly dance round the office.
‘Do we have such a thing as alcohol in this place?’ said Tom.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Millie.
‘I think I saw some bottles of Babycham under the sink,’ I said, walking towards the little kitchen.
‘God only knows how long they’ve been there,’ said Millie.
Tom found a bottle opener and filled three plastic cups with something that tasted like toilet cleaner and we toasted out newest client-to-be. ‘To Matthew Smith,’ we said in unison and then almost reverently, ‘A Place Beyond the Mountain.’
‘Dottie, do we have a number we can ring Mr Smith on?’
‘Wasn’t it with the manuscript?’
‘No.’
‘Sorry, Tom, I must have left it at home.’
‘No problem. Bring it in tomorrow and we’ll go from there. I think you should give him the good news, as you are the very clever girl that found him.’
‘I’d love to.’
‘Good. Now why don’t we all have an early night and go home and celebrate.’
I smiled at him, but it was a hollow smile. I doubted that there would be anyone at home to celebrate with.
As I walked along the seafront, I found myself thinking about Matthew Smith, wondering what sort of guy he was and how he would react to the news that an agent liked his book. It had been a good day, one of the nicest days I’d had in weeks. I was so lucky to have such a great job. How different my life would be if I’d had to go back to Woolworths with all its memories.
I walked up to my flat and nearly fell over Tristan, who was sitting on the stairs outside his door. I was horrified to see that he was crying. I sat down beside him and put my arm around his shoulder.
‘Can I help?’ I said.
‘It’s Stephen – he’s in the hospital.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘The silly boy decided to go for a run along the seafront. I don’t know what he was thinking! He can barely walk, let alone run.’
‘What happened?’
‘His wonky knee gave out. He was lying on the ground for ages. People were stepping over him, Dottie, and I wasn’t there for him. I wasn’t there when he needed me.’
‘How did you find out?’
‘Someone eventually decided to call an ambulance and the dear boy had the presence of mind, through all that pain, Dottie, to tell them where he lived. Rose came up and broke the news to me. I nearly fainted.’
‘I’m so sorry. When did it happen?’
‘This morning. I thought he’d gone to get a jar of peanut butter as we’d run out – Stephen loves peanut butter on his toast – and all the time he was lying flat out on the seafront with people walking over him. I feel sick thinking about it.’
‘Where is he now?’
‘He’s in the Royal Sussex County. They operated on his knee this morning. I’ve been there all day. They sent me home and told me to come back tomorrow.’
‘But why are you sitting on the stairs?’ I asked as gently as I could.
‘I can’t bear to go in the flat.’
‘Would
it help if I went in with you?’
‘Yes, I think it would.’
‘Come on then,’ I said, helping him up.
‘What must you think of me?’ he said, sitting down on the couch.
‘I think you’re upset because your dear friend is hurt. That’s what I think of you.’
‘Now stop being nice or you’ll start me off again.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with crying. My Aunty Brenda says it’s the body’s way of cleansing the soul.’
‘I like the sound of your Aunty Brenda.’
I busied myself making tea then sat down on the couch next to Tristan.
‘What makes it worse is that we had a bit of a spat this morning,’ he said, taking a mouthful of tea.
‘A serious spat?’
‘Far from it. It was all about a bloody cat.’
‘A cat?’
‘Stephen wants a cat. I said how was it going to get out to do its business? Stephen said that it would be an indoor cat, and we could have a dirt tray, and I said I didn’t want to live in a flat that smells of… well, you know…’
I smiled. ‘Oh dear.’
‘When I asked him how the wretched thing was supposed to get any exercise, Stephen said he would put it on a lead and walk it along the bloody seafront. Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous in your entire life?’
That’s when we started laughing. We actually howled. In fact we made so much noise that Mrs Toshimo came up to see what was the matter.
‘Is it bad news, dear?’ she said, putting her head round the door.
‘No,’ said Tristan wiping his eyes, ‘we were laughing about Stephen wanting a cat.’
‘My oriental gentleman and I had a cat once. We called it Lillie after Lillie Langtry. Turned out to be a boy, dear, but there you are. We used to take him for walks along the seafront on a lead.’
At which point Tristan and I dissolved into more laughter. This wasn’t the celebration I’d wanted, but it beat sitting on my own in an empty flat.
36
There was no telephone number for Matthew Smith, just an address. I was going to have to write to him. I asked him to call into the agency, or to phone if he was able to. I imagined him opening my letter and his excitement at learning that we liked his book. I felt so privileged that I had been the one to find him. It made trawling through all the rubbish worthwhile.