Beyond the Arch

by David Evered

  ‘Yes, and I’m beginning to do some other things as well. A colleague at school has persuaded me to join a choir and that’s been good. We rehearse once a week and have three concerts a year. I sometimes join other members of the choir for a drink in the pub after rehearsals. I’m in a much better place than I was when we had lunch at the end of August.’

  ‘You’re probably better off here in London amongst colleagues you know and with the possibility of new friends through the choir.’

  ‘Possibly, but I shan’t rush into making any decisions and will see how things go over the next twelve months or so.’

  ‘Maybe the next twelve months will bring good things for all three of us.’

  * * *

  The following morning the telephone rang and Julie’s voice wished him good morning. ‘My parents arrived in London yesterday,’ she announced, ‘and I shall be flying in tomorrow. Sadly, my stay will be shorter than I had anticipated. I shall only be in London for four days, flying back the day after Christmas. I’ll explain when we meet. I expect you’ll be staying with your family over Christmas but would you be free to join us for dinner in two days’ time? We’ll be staying at the White House Hotel,’ she paused, ‘after all, where else would Americans stay! Shall we say 7.30?’

  ‘I shall be there.’

  Forty-eight hours later Peter travelled to the White House close to Regent’s Park. Julie met him in the foyer and introduced him to her parents, Bob and Marlene. This was their first visit to Europe. ‘We Americans are not very adventurous,’ Bob explained. ‘A journey to the East Coast is normally about as exciting as it gets for us. We’re planning to see something of London and then go on to Paris for a weekend in the New Year where Julie will meet up with us again and help us with the language. You Brits have so many countries and so many languages on your doorstep. I don’t know how you cope with that!’

  Peter laughed. ‘By and large we don’t or not very well. The British are disgracefully bad at languages. They often have little incentive to learn as English is almost always everyone’s second language if it’s not their mother tongue. But we largely hold you responsible for that as the most populous Anglophone country in the world.’

  ‘Yes, not many of us learn and can speak another language and many Americans are deeply suspicious of those who can,’ said Julie, ‘especially if it’s French! I can at least expose my parents to a little European culture while I’m here and in France.’

  ‘We tend to think of the Brits as rather sophisticated – a bit like people from Boston but with superior accents.’

  ‘I think that would be a serious mistake. This country, like all others, has all sorts and conditions of people. It would be wrong to think that those who speak standard English are necessarily cultured.’

  ‘Well, we have a few days here. I know that some things will be closed part of the time but we shall go to the theatre and visit one or two museums before we fly to Paris. We shall make the most of it.’

  ‘I’m sorry I’ll not be in London for longer but there has been a change in my life,’ said Julie. ‘My company is posting me back to New York and I have to be there by the beginning of March. That’s why I’ve had to truncate this trip. I shall be very occupied for the first two months of next year. I’m very sad to be leaving after only two and a half years but I’m afraid I’m not the master or mistress of my own destiny.’

  ‘We shall be glad when she’s back in the States,’ said Marlene, ‘even if it is on the East Coast.’

  It was shortly after 9.30 when Bob said, ‘We’re going to leave you two to have coffee and a drink. We’re still a bit jet-lagged having come from Seattle and with a seven-hour time difference. I know it’s still early afternoon there but we need to catch up on some sleep. It’s easy for Julie with just an hour to adjust to.’ They said their goodnights and left.

  ‘I’m glad that you’ve met them. I shall be busy over the next few days being a tourist guide even though many things will be closed between now and the twenty-sixth.’

  ‘When did you hear that you were being sent back to New York?’

  ‘Only last week. It seems that there’s been a crisis in the office there and the manager has been fired. I don’t know the details but I have to fly over there for a few days in the second week in January to meet staff and the interim manager. No doubt I’ll hear all the grisly particulars then. I really am very sorry to be leaving Lyon. It’s such an interesting city and I have made good friends there as well as some from a little further away. I’m going to get each of us a brandy and then you can tell me what your plans are.’ They waited for the drinks to arrive.

  ‘I intend to have the first draft of my book complete by the end of January and then revise it and seek literary advice on how best to proceed. I have no illusions – it might bomb, but even if that happens I’ll console myself with the thought that it’s better to have tried and failed than not to have tried at all. I have gained so much from this year – and I’m only half way through it.’

  ‘How is Sally and would she be able to help?’

  ‘She is much better and more relaxed. She finally got back to England after the appalling snow storms which must have affected you as well.’

  ‘Yes, the city was almost isolated and some of the major roads were impassable. But going back to your writing. Would Sally be able to help?’

  ‘I think she might be prepared to offer an opinion. If she does, I hope she’ll feel able to deliver uncomfortable messages without any concessions to my sensitivities.’

  ‘Do you have any doubt that she’ll be able to do that?’

  ‘No, but it’s important that I should be realistic, particularly at the end of a year which has oscillated between the unreal and the surreal.’

  ‘It would be good to keep in touch – I should love to hear how you get on.’

  ‘Will you come back to France?’

  ‘Possibly for a vacation but I think it’s unlikely I’ll come back to work there. I simply don’t know what life’s got in store for me professionally or personally back in New York. I think this is the end of a short-lived but never-to-be-forgotten idyll.’ She looked across at him. ‘Or perhaps not quite the end, if you would be prepared to be an English gentleman and see me to my room.’ Peter smiled as she took his hand and led him to the lifts.

  They lay back relaxed in the bed. ‘C’était pour la mémoire,’ she whispered in his ear.

  ‘Elle était une mémoire très précieuse,’ he whispered back.

  Julie laughed. ‘Something has just occurred to me. When my marriage broke up, my mother hoped that I would remarry although there was no-one in sight and it was certainly not a high priority for me at that stage. But there was one saying that she repeated constantly. It was that “there are more good fish in the sea than ever came out of it”. I suddenly thought that you were a remarkably good fish to have caught, albeit temporarily, and now sadly I have to let you go but I’m sure you’ll be caught again, even if it doesn’t happen quite so serendipitously. Take care and be happy, my loving friend.’ Then as an afterthought she added, ‘And you should safeguard your other loving friend. I can see that she is very special to you,’ she grinned mischievously, ‘or should it be loving friends in the plural?’

  28

  Peter’s family arrived in Wimbledon to re-enact the well-rehearsed rituals of Christmas. After the traditional visit to church, they gathered for drinks in the lounge and the ceremonial unwrapping of presents while Matt and Jilly tried, and largely failed, to keep a note of the donors of gifts to their two sons. It was not long before the boys decamped to other parts of the house to test their new acquisitions and the men relaxed as Molly and Jilly retired to the kitchen to complete the final preparations for Christmas lunch.

  ‘This is very different from last year,’ said Geoffrey. ‘Peter’s life has changed so dramatically since then.’ He looked
across at Peter. ‘Did you have any inkling that Ann would be leaving you when you were here last Christmas?’

  ‘None at all. I guess in times past I’d have been considered a cuckold. Maybe there were signs that I should have detected but I didn’t.’

  ‘Are you being a little hard on yourself?’

  ‘Possibly. Perhaps, even if she hadn’t fallen for one of her colleagues, it might not have worked out longer term anyway. Marriage or any relationship is such an uncontrolled experiment.’

  ‘That suggests a lack of commitment.’

  ‘No, not really. We can never really know how relationships are going to evolve in the longer term.’

  ‘I’m not sure that I would agree with that. Marriages need to be worked on to be kept in good repair.’

  ‘Yes, but even then, they cannot necessarily be expected to work in every case.’

  ‘Have you heard from Ann recently?’

  ‘Yes, she came to the flat earlier this month just after I got back from France. Her relationship had just broken up. It seems that he was, and is, a serial womaniser. She’s very bitter about it.’

  ‘Are you likely to get together again?’

  ‘She did suggest it but I have said no firmly. I do feel very sorry for her. She has been devastated by the experience.’

  ‘Is that a final no?’

  ‘It has to be – my life has changed hugely since the summer.’

  ‘So the Robson family is no longer a part of your life.’

  ‘Not entirely. I’ve seen Jenny on a few occasions and she’ll be coming to a dinner party I’ve organised for New Year’s Eve.’

  ‘Is that entirely proper?’

  ‘Ann thinks it isn’t but I was always fond of Jenny. She’s a good friend. I went with her to see her mother during the summer and, to answer your direct question, it has been entirely proper.’

  ‘Anyhow, Peter has an amazing girlfriend,’ chipped in Matt. ‘I met her in the autumn. She’s a very smart cookie and speaks excellent German – much better than mine.’

  ‘How did you come to meet her?’

  ‘Through Peter. She’s a journalist and is writing a series of articles on German and French attitudes to the possibility of Britain joining the European Community. They’re based on interviews with people in both countries as well as with some expatriates. They’re being published in a journal called Europe Watch which I’ve been buying as I was interested to read them. It’s a serious magazine and I thought the articles were excellent; her insights were very sharp and her descriptive powers outstanding. Such a development could have a major impact on the financial sector and would open up all sorts of career opportunities.’

  Molly and Jilly had come back into the room during this exchange. ‘So who is this girlfriend?’ asked Molly. ‘We’ve not heard of her.’

  ‘Yes, you have. She’s the owner of the house in France where I’ve been staying, although she’s been away for most of the autumn in Germany and elsewhere in France. I told you about her in the summer when I was here.’

  ‘So is it serious and when are we going to meet her?’

  ‘I’m sure you will sometime, but girlfriend is not quite the correct designation – she is both rather more and rather less than that.’

  ‘Now you’re talking in riddles. Lunch is ready and I suspect the riddles in the crackers will be less opaque than yours.’ Molly however continued the cross-examination of her son. ‘What do you plan to do when this year is over?’

  ‘I really don’t know at present. It all depends how things work out. I’ve written more than two-thirds of a first draft of my book which I shall complete in January and then spend a month or so revising. After that, I shall have to approach a literary agent and see if it is publishable. Beyond that, who knows? But I’ve always had a plan B – I can go back to the law.’

  ‘Will you be going back to France?’

  ‘I don’t know at this stage – I should like to but it depends when Sally goes back there and if she’s prepared to offer me accommodation again. I think I’d accept if she did but it’s a matter for her.’

  ‘It sounds like a very semi-detached relationship. I hope you know what you’re doing.’

  ‘So do I, but I’m not necessarily sure that I do and if I’ve got it wrong then it will be for me to sort it out. Either way, I’m entirely relaxed about it.’

  ‘Well, it is good to have all the family here again for Christmas.’ Molly looked across at Matt. ‘And will you be staying in Germany for the foreseeable future?’

  ‘Yes. As I said, so much is changing now and there are innumerable opportunities in the financial sector.’

  ‘This is far too serious a discussion for Christmas Day – let’s go for lunch. Geoffrey is already attacking the bird. He calls it carving but it is more like butchery when he gets under way. He justifies his approach on the grounds that it’s better to get the job done quickly and have the meal hot rather than do it elegantly but slowly.’

  Matt and Peter looked across at one another. This was a perennial comment reviving memories of past Christmases.

  * * *

  The torpid and languorous days between Christmas and New Year stretched ahead, dedicated by some to frenzied spasms of shopping interspersed with periods of unrestrained consumption of alcohol. Peter felt no compulsion to engage in either of these activities and retreated to his flat to occupy himself with writing. He was well provisioned, having been persuaded by his mother to carry away large quantities of cold turkey and mince pies. The day after Boxing Day he collected Sally and they drove to the Brownings’ flat in Highgate. They drew up at a tall white tower block and ascended to the fourth floor. The curtains had not been drawn in the reception room and Peter was drawn over to the windows to look at the immense, brightly-lit panorama of the city to the south.

  Jonny came over to join him. ‘Often we don’t draw these curtains. We just enjoy the view winter and summer, night and day. Do you know this building?’

  ‘No, I don’t know this part of London at all.’

  ‘It’s called Highpoint and is well known in architectural circles. It was designed by Lubetkin who also designed the penguin pool at London Zoo, which I’m sure you must know.’

  Peter smiled inwardly, recalling his visit with Cass and Stefan more than a year earlier. ‘Yes, I have been to the zoo, relatively recently in fact,’ he said as he winked at Sally.

  ‘Do I detect that it has some particular significance for you?’

  ‘Yes – but it’s a complicated story.’

  ‘Well, the form of the building is known as international style. This developed between the wars and is characterised by rectilinear forms, little decoration, open interior spaces and light. I mustn’t lecture you on architectural history but we love it.’

  Tilly came into the room and embraced them both. She looked at Sally. ‘How are you now after our experiences of being snowbound? That was a pretty dreadful journey back to Calais, wasn’t it? Have you thawed out fully?’

  ‘Yes – but at least we had a very convivial dinner at that hotel en route to cheer ourselves up, and thank you for arranging for your caretaker to go and check on my house. It’s good to know that all is well.’

  ‘So what are you up to now?’

  ‘I’ve a lot of work to do on those projects which I put on hold for my Franco-German project. I’m planning to return to France and Germany, but quite when depends on how the political initiatives develop. It all might change after the general election, which I imagine will probably be next year.’

  ‘Have you decided when you’ll be going back to France?’

  ‘Not yet. I need access to libraries here for much of what I’m planning to do.’

  ‘And will you go back to France, Peter?’

  ‘That all depends if there is an invitation forthcoming from the landlady.�
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  Sally looked across. ‘I think that’s a real possibility.’

  ‘Then I think there’s a real probability that it will be accepted.’

  ‘Well, you must let us know when that will be. Now that we have a key, we can open it up for you and get some basic provisions in for your arrival.’

  ‘That would be very kind.’

  * * *

  Tilly turned to them over dinner. ‘May I ask indelicately how things stand between you two? We have known you, Sally, for a long time and have seen a fair amount of you, Peter, in the last six months.’

  Sally and Peter looked at one another.

  ‘Tilly, I think you’ve been, as you said, very indelicate and put them on the spot and it may be a spot they would prefer not to inhabit,’ said Jonny. He turned to Sally and Peter, ‘I think you can, as the Americans might do in these circumstances, plead the Fifth Amendment.’

  ‘To do so,’ said Sally, ‘would probably be an answer in itself, but one which could then be interpreted in a number of different ways.’

  Peter looked across at her. ‘We can, of course, prevaricate, equivocate, dissemble, obfuscate and generally be economical with the truth.’ He laughed, ‘And you can see that I have learned to use a thesaurus in the last six months.’

  They all joined in the laughter. ‘That was one of the most superior examples of prevarication that I’ve ever come across,’ Sally responded. She turned to Tilly and Jonny. ‘You are longstanding and very dear friends so I’ll answer for myself and leave Peter to speak for himself which, as you have heard, he is well able to do. I think you know we met by chance, twice, and then subsequently by design. We have got to know each other well, very well, and have many things in common. I have felt very comfortable in Peter’s company although I’m not sure that he has always done so in mine. I have shared things with Peter which I have shared with almost no-one else. I have no wish to change anything at the moment. As for the future, I’m happy in the knowledge that it simply comes one day at a time.’

  ‘That’s very frank of you,’ said Jonny, ‘and, considering that you’ve been ambushed by my dear wife, I can understand that you might have some reservations about being fully open, particularly when you and Peter have not had a chance to collude beforehand. Peter, do you have anything to say – silence under these circumstances is perfectly acceptable?’