New Cardiff

by Charles Webb

After a few more moments she turned and lifted some dirty silverware out of the cart to put in the sink.

  ‘Now,’ Colin said, setting two more plates in on the others.

  ‘Well what did she say.’

  ‘There’ll be plenty of time to go into all that.’

  ‘I mean I don’t get it,’ Mandy said. ‘Is she here on her honeymoon or something?’

  ‘There is no honeymoon.’

  ‘Is her new husband with her?’

  ‘There is no new husband,’ Colin said. ‘It was a phantom husband.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Mandy, I don’t want to go into this now,’ he said, putting the last of the plates in the sink. ‘The point is, I came right here because you need to understand Vera’s being here doesn’t affect anything.’

  ‘You don’t have to keep saying that, Colin. I believe you.’

  ‘She did a very unfortunate thing,’ Colin said.

  ‘What was that.’

  ‘I don’t want to discuss it now. I want to sketch Mr West, and go on normally.’

  ‘Colin,’ she said, ‘you can’t just come out here and put me in suspense like this and then not tell me why she’s here. What was the unfortunate thing.’

  ‘A joke.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘She played a trick.’

  ‘On who.’

  ‘Myself.’

  ‘She played a trick on you?’

  ‘There was no wedding,’ Colin said. ‘There was no marriage. There was no Roger Pelham.’

  Mandy frowned.

  ‘Vera and her sister made it up.’

  After a few more moments, Mandy looked down into the sink. ‘I still don’t …’

  ‘They invented it.’

  ‘Made it up? The wedding?’

  Colin put some knives into the sink. ‘I’ve more or less adjusted to it by now, after walking here and clearing my head. And I realise that Vera came all the way here because she feels very guilty, and she came all this way to try and clear her conscience.’

  ‘Wait a minute,’ Mandy said. ‘It was all just made up? The whole wedding?

  ‘I know, it’s hard to—’

  ‘The invitation,’ she said.

  ‘I guess they just had one printed up to send me.’

  ‘One invitation printed up?’

  Colin picked up a towel from beside die sink and dried off his hands.

  ‘This is sick,’ Mandy said.

  ‘It was very upsetting to me at first,’ Colin said, returning the towel to the shelf, ‘and I didn’t accept her apology. But now I’ve cooled down, and as soon as I do accept it I’m sure she’ll turn around and go back to England.’

  ‘You’re going to accept her apology?’

  ‘She needs absolution. Then she can go home.’

  Mandy shook her head. ‘I would never accept someone’s apology if they did that to me.’

  He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Okay. I came to draw Mr West.’

  ‘I can’t get over this.’

  ‘For the moment, you’ll have to.’

  Mandy picked up the towel and dried her own hands. ‘But how could anyone—’

  ‘Mandy, think Mr West.’

  She looked down at the linoleum floor. ‘Mr West.’

  ‘Is this a good time for me to do him?’

  ‘Actually we have to do something before I take you to his room,’ she said. ‘I shouldn’t really have gone ahead and arranged that.’

  ‘Why not.’

  ‘I mean it’s going to be okay,’ she said, going across the kitchen. ‘I just should have gotten permission first.’ She pushed open the door. ‘We have to talk to Mrs Madison.’

  ‘Who’s that,’ Colin said, walking out of the kitchen.

  ‘The director.’

  They went down a short hallway and into the dining room, where the residents were seated around a large table. Several of them looked up from their small plates of chocolate cake as Mandy led him through the room. Colin nodded at them, then followed her down another hall to a closed door. She stopped, waited a moment, then knocked.

  A woman’s voice came from the other side. ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s Mandy, Mrs Madison. My friend’s here.’

  ‘You may come in.’

  Mandy opened the door. ‘Go ahead, Colin.’

  He walked into the room as a woman behind a desk rose and held out her hand.

  ‘How do you do,’ he said, shaking it.

  ‘Mr Ware?’

  ‘Colin Ware, yes.’

  ‘How are you.’

  ‘Fine. And very grateful for the opportunity to do the sketch.’

  The woman sat down again.

  ‘Shall I just take him down there?’ Mandy said.

  ‘Mr Ware, I’m sure you understand how it is, running a facility for older people. How careful we have to be that everything’s done by the book.’

  Colin nodded. ‘I do.’

  ‘Strictly speaking,’ Mrs Madison said, ‘I shouldn’t be letting you do this.’ She held up her hand to stop him from speaking. ‘But you’re a guest in our country, and that’s why I’m going to bend the rules this time.’

  ‘Well I don’t want you to do it for that reason.’

  ‘Now Mandy here is a great addition to Staff,’ she said. ‘All our residents are quite fond of her and she’s a hard worker. But this is definitely not something she should have undertaken on her own authority.’

  ‘Look,’ Colin said.

  ‘I did say I was sorry,’ Mandy said.

  Again Mrs Madison raised her hand for silence. ‘As I mentioned before, you’re a guest in our country, and I want you to take back nothing but pleasurable memories of your time here.’

  ‘And I will,’ Colin said, ‘but I really don’t want anyone to get in trouble over this.’

  ‘May I ask how long you plan to be with us, Mr Ware?’

  ‘Yes, in our country.’

  ‘I’m not exactly sure.’

  ‘You don’t have a departure date.’

  ‘Not yet.’

  Again Mrs Madison rose from her chair and held out her hand. ‘Are you enjoying your stay?’

  ‘Very much,’ he said, shaking it.

  ‘And have you visited our monument yet?’

  ‘Yes I have. Wonderful.’

  ‘A momentous event occurred here, Mr Ware, in our nation’s struggle for independence. The Battle of New Cardiff is greatly underrated in the history books, but it was one of the crucial turning points as we laboured to throw off the yoke of our cruel oppressor.’

  ‘Very good,’ Colin said, releasing her hand. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And Mandy?’ She looked over at Mandy, standing just inside the doorway. ‘Stop by when you have a minute. I do need a word or two with you in private.’

  ‘Yes, Mrs Madison.’

  When Mandy showed Colin into Mr West’s room, Mr West was asleep in a chair.

  ‘He’s asleep,’ she said.

  Colin nodded.

  ‘We’re not supposed to wake them up except for medication.’

  ‘No’

  She gestured at the bed. ‘You could sit there.’

  Colin seated himself on the edge of the bed and looked back at Mr West. ‘I didn’t think someone could sleep sitting up that straight.’

  ‘Can you do the drawing okay from there?’

  ‘I think so.’ He set his case on the bedspread and opened it, then laid several pencils out on the spread.

  ‘I don’t know what to tell you.’

  ‘About what.’

  ‘I mean I hope he wakes up,’she said, ‘but I’m not sure he will right away.’

  Colin looked at a collection of photographs in small frames on the bureau beside Mr West, then back at Mr West.

  For a few seconds they watched him sleeping quietly in the chair.

  ‘Would you want to have a picture of a sleeping person in your exhibit?’

  ‘I might. I’d have to think about it.’ />
  ‘Or how about this,’ she said. ‘You could go ahead and draw him like that, except for his eyes. Then draw his eyes when he wakes up. But Colin, I really can’t stay.’

  ‘No. You go, Mandy. We’ll be fine.’

  She stepped into the hallway and closed the door.

  After she was gone, Colin sat looking at his subject a few moments longer, then he opened his sketch pad. He chose one of the pencils from the bedspread, held it over the page a few seconds as he studied Mr West’s features, then began drawing his forehead.

  Colin’s concentration stayed mostly on the page, but one of the times he glanced up he saw that Mr West’s eyes had come open and he was looking back at him. ‘Oh,’ Colin said. He set down the pencil. ‘Yes.’ Clearing his throat softly, he got up from the bed. ‘Colin Ware,’ he said, holding out his hand.

  Mr West looked down at it but didn’t extend his own.

  ‘Mandy’s friend.’

  The man continued looking down at Colin’s hand.

  ‘Mandy the attendant,’ Colin said. ‘Short. Blond hair.’

  Mr West slowly raised his hand and took Colin’s.

  ‘Yes,’ Colin said, their two hands joined but remaining motionless. ‘She mentioned you had very graciously agreed to sit for me.’ He let go of Mr West’s hand. ‘And we also obtained the permission of Mrs Madison.’ He returned to the bed, seated himself and picked up his pad. ‘Why don’t I just try to capture your very expressive eyes while we’re talking here.’ He began drawing one of Mr West’s eyes but the second or third time he looked up both of them were closed again. He continued to work on the eye till it was finished. ‘That’s all right. I think I can … if need be I may be able to extrapolate from that one to the other.’ He reached for the India rubber on the spread and rubbed out a line he’d made, but when he looked up again Mr West’s head had tipped to the side. He sat a moment looking at it, then tilted his own head, glancing back and forth between Mr West and the page as he began drawing one of Mr West’s ears. However, Mr West’s head moved once again, this time forward, as his chin fell against his chest.

  Colin sat several seconds looking at him, then got down off the bed and on to the floor, resting his pad on his legs and studying his face from below as he sketched.

  It was fifteen or twenty minutes later, the drawing was nearly finished and Colin was working on the collar of Mr West’s shirt, when suddenly Mr West twisted to the side, his head falling against his shoulder and his lips parting.

  Colin’s hand stopped on the page.

  It was quiet in the room, except for the sound of a metal walker being moved slowly along the hallway on the other side of the door.

  ‘Mandy!’

  There was no answer.

  After a few more moments Colin very carefully set his pad and pencil down on the carpet. Gradually he got to his feet.

  Mr West remained perfectly still in the chair.

  Colin glanced at the door, then looked back at his subject. He waited several more seconds, then began very slowly to move his hand toward the man’s shoulder.

  As Mr West lifted his head, opening his eyes, Colin lurched backwards, nearly falling.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, regaining his balance. ‘Yes.’ He bent down for his sketch pad. ‘Mandy’s friend.’ He picked up his pencil and seated himself on the bed again. ‘A great honour.’ He glanced up at Mr West, then back down at the page, trying to draw for a second or two with the wrong end of the pencil before turning it around. ‘Extremely gracious of you to sit.’

  * * *

  My always dearest Vera,

  So many things are happening so quickly in both our lives right now that it’s difficult to make complete—or any—sense of all the shifting planes of reality. However, as the mist clears, I can see that you followed me to America because, above all, you’re a person of such high moral character that it was impossible to continue living with yourself after your thoughtless act.

  Yes, Vera, you are fully and totally forgiven. One hundred per cent is your apology accepted. At first I dismissed Alicia’s central role in this sorry saga, but I no longer do. She can be very crafty, and she has a mean streak that both of us have commented on. Without her influence, I’m sure you would have found a kinder way to tell me that the time has come for us to turn, each of us, to a new chapter in our lives, one where our friendship becomes stronger than it has been before, and where those ‘romantic’ elements, for want of a better word, are now set aside as we each look to new relationships to fill that dimension of our needs.

  So as you now return home to England, please know that you carry all my love back with you—but a new and better kind of love, Vera. You carry back the kind of love that can only exist between two souls who have weathered so much together, and whose mutual understanding is so profound, that to try and continue with what one thinks of as a physical relationship would in fact cheapen that new plateau of affection between us that’s been born out of this crisis.

  It’s unclear exactly when I’ll be back in London, but the first thing we’ll do when we arrive will be to ring you.

  My love, and all thoughts are with you for a safe and relaxing journey home,

  Colin

  * * *

  It was three days later that Colin called the Cardiff Arms Motel. ‘I’m wondering if you could tell me if one of your guests has left,’ he said.

  ‘What’s the guest’s name.’

  ‘Vera Edwards.’

  It was quiet a few moments. ‘She hasn’t left,’ the person said.

  ‘She hasn’t.’

  ‘Shall I put you through?’

  ‘No, no.’ Again it was quiet. ‘Is there any way to confirm if a letter was received by her recently.’

  ‘Usually guests don’t get mail here.’

  ‘That’s why I thought maybe someone might remember.’

  ‘And you don’t want to find out from her.’

  ‘No.’

  Again there was a pause.

  ‘By any chance was this letter in an envelope from one of the other local motels?’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘Yes, I do recall giving her that.’ The person on the other end waited several seconds, then said, ‘Sir, either I’ll have to put you through to her or discontinue this call.’

  ‘Discontinue it.

  11

  There were two images in Mandy’s mind by which she recognised Vera when she saw her in the car park outside the supermarket. The first came from a drawing Colin had brought with him from England. He hadn’t told her about it, but in the bottom of his suitcase, several times Mandy had noticed a brown folder, and finally one night, as they were getting ready for bed, she had asked him what was in it. He’d said it wasn’t anything important, just a drawing he’d done a few weeks before coming to America. When she asked if she could see it, he said it was up to her, then went into the bathroom and closed the door. She took it out of the folder and studied it for a long time. There was nothing on it to say who it was, but Mandy had no trouble figuring it out.

  The other identifying image Mandy had in her mind wasn’t of Vera herself, but of her car, which Joanie had described as a ‘cute little blue Honda or something’ when she was telling Mandy about Vera’s first visit to the motel.

  So on the afternoon Mandy was walking through the car park—an afternoon on which she’d been let out unexpectedly early from work, so that Colin hadn’t been there to meet her—and she saw Vera unlocking the door of her car, she knew instantly who it was, and in fact stopped so suddenly when she recognised her that a woman behind Mandy accidentally rammed the wheel of her shopping trolley into Mandy’s heel.

  After the woman had pushed it around her, Mandy stood and watched as Vera set the bag containing her purchases over on to the passenger’s seat of the car, then got in herself. Vera put her key into the ignition switch, turned on the engine, then pushed a button on the inside of the door, waiting as the window opened next to her.

  As the g
lass sank down into the door, Vera became aware of the girl, standing a couple of parking spaces away, watching her. The two of them looked at each other a moment, then Vera reached up to pull her seat belt on before releasing the parking brake and glancing in the rear-view mirror.

  ‘How could anyone do that.’

  Vera turned her head to look back at the girl.

  After speaking, she remained where she was, still looking intently at Vera. The only sound was the soft humming of Vera’s motor.

  ‘Were you talking to me?’ Vera said finally.

  ‘Yes.’ The girl pushed some hair out of her face.

  ‘I didn’t hear what you said.’

  ‘How could anyone do something that mean.’

  Again it was quiet for several seconds.

  ‘You know who I am?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Who.’

  ‘You’re Vera.’

  After another few moments, Vera reached down beside the steering column to turn off the engine. The two of them continued to study each other as an assistant from the supermarket walked between them.

  ‘And may I ask your name?’

  ‘Mandy.’

  The assistant took hold of the handle at the end of a long row of trolleys and, leaning forward, pushed them slowly back between Vera and Mandy.

  ‘Do you want to talk?’ Vera said.

  ‘We don’t have to,’ Mandy said. ‘I just don’t understand how someone could do what you did.’

  Vera looked down at the top of her steering wheel for a few seconds, then back at Mandy. ‘If we are going to talk,’ she said, ‘I’ll get out.’

  ‘It’s up to you.’

  Vera removed her seat belt, opened the car door again and got out. ‘The mean thing,’ she said, after closing the door. ‘I assume you’re referring to what I did to Colin Ware.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Because to look out of the window when one’s about to drive off with one’s shopping,’ Vera said, ‘and be told by a stranger that they’re mean, for some unspecified reason—that isn’t what I think of as a formal introduction.’

  ‘I should have said what I was talking about.’

  Vera nodded. ‘It was a cruel trick I played on him,’ she said, ‘wasn’t it.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We agree on that,’ she said. ‘Now I wonder if we could establish whether you have a red hair dryer.’