First Impressions

by Margaret Thornton

  ‘Yes … I have. But there’s something I want to talk about before we go. And Mrs Meadows said she’d come and have a chat with you. You see, Jane, I’ve been doing a lot of serious thinking this last week. And – you may not believe this – but I’ve realized that I might be quite happy if I came to stay here, permanently, I mean.’

  Jane could scarcely believe what she was hearing. Her mouth dropped open in shock and bewilderment as she stared at her mother. ‘But … after all you’ve said. It’s hard to believe …’

  ‘Yes, I know what I’ve said,’ retorted Alice sharply. ‘And I still haven’t changed my mind about old folks’ homes, or about sons and daughters who want to get rid of their parents. But this place is different, or else I wouldn’t consider it.’

  Jane still continued to stare at her mother, too stunned to smile or to begin to think that this could be an answer to her prayers – because she had dared to ask for a little help from above.

  ‘I know there’s a lot to consider,’ Alice went on, ‘and if you don’t want me to, then of course I won’t do it. I can see you’re not too happy about it, and I can understand that. You might not want to live on your own, and I know that the upkeep of a house is getting more expensive every year. But I won’t live for ever, and I’ve got quite a bit put by …’

  ‘Stop, Mother, stop!’ cried Jane. ‘I wouldn’t mind at all, of course I wouldn’t. I think it’s a splendid idea, but—’ She suddenly burst into tears, whether of happiness or sadness she didn’t know. They were more like tears of frustration; the pent up anxiety that she had felt for the past few days had to have a release.

  ‘Jane, whatever’s the matter? I didn’t mean to upset you.’ Her mother leaned forward and took hold of her hand in a very uncharacteristic gesture. ‘Come on now, love. Don’t take on so, we’ll be able to sort something out.’

  Jane blinked back her tears and tried to compose herself. ‘You’ve not upset me. It’s just that … you see … while I was on holiday I met a man. A lovely man called Dave, and we got friendly. I know we’ve only known one another a short while, but we would like to carry on seeing one another, but I told him it was no use.’

  ‘Now, why ever did you do that?’ Her mother was showing an understanding that Jane had hardly ever seen before. ‘I like you to have friends, even men friends, but you’ve never seemed bothered since Tom …’

  ‘I know, Mother. I’ve never been interested. But Dave is … different. We got on so well, but there were problems.’

  ‘What sort of problems? Where does he live? Has he been widowed, like you?’

  ‘He lives in Shropshire. He has a small farm that he runs with his son.’

  ‘A farmer, eh? Well, well!’

  ‘And … he has been married, of course. I thought he was a widower, then he told me that his wife is still living, but she won’t grant him a divorce. She’s a Catholic and she thinks it’s wrong; but in spite of this she’s living with another man. Living in sin, as you might say, Mother.’

  ‘Now, Jane, don‘t throw my words back in my face. What did you say before? Circumstances alter cases. Well, perhaps they do. I won’t stand in your way if you want to go on seeing this man. You know where he lives, don’t you? And he knows where you are?’

  Jane shook her head. ‘I’ve been a stupid fool,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t give him my address or phone number. He gave me his, and I said I would ring if I could see any way round the problem.’

  ‘Well then, you can do so now, can’t you? Not this minute, but when we get home. Yes, I am coming home for the time being. The room I had will be in use for the next fortnight – a short-term resident like I’ve been – but then I can move in permanently. Mrs Meadows will come and talk to you before we go.’

  Jane sighed. ‘I’ve done something very very stupid, and I don’t know why I did it. I tore up his phone numbers – I was feeling so miserable and confused – and they’re all in pieces at the bottom of my bag.’

  Alice shook her head. ‘Honestly, Jane! Sometimes I despair of you. But there must be a way round it. You know the name of the farm, don’t you? And you know where it is? Directory enquiries will help you. Come on now, what’s it called?’

  Jane wracked her brains. ‘It’s near Welshpool. He’s called David Falconer. Hillside …? Woodside …? No, I think it’s Cragside … Yes, I’m sure it is; Cragside Farm, near Welshpool.

  ‘There you are, you see,’ said Alice. ‘Problem solved. Jane could tell that she wanted it solving for her own sake as well, but it was great, all the same, that she seemed so pleased about the situation.

  ‘And here’s Mrs Meadows. She’ll tell you anything you want to know, although I think you found out quite a lot when you came to look round, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I knew it was a place with a very high standard,’ said Jane, ‘and now you know that for yourself, don’t you, Mother?’

  ‘Alright; don’t rub it in!’ retorted Alice, in a quiet voice, as Mrs Meadows sat down beside them.

  She was a woman in her fifties, the owner of the home and in overall charge. She and her husband lived in a bungalow nearby, and the residents saw little of him. He worked as a joiner in his own business and was very handy for doing odd jobs from time to time. Jane could tell that she was friendly and had a pleasant way of dealing with the residents, never patronizing them or talking down to them, but she would stand no nonsense.

  Jane told her how her mother had said that she would like to come and live there permanently and that she, Jane, was very happy, though surprised at her decision.

  ‘Yes, I think she was a little unsure about us at first, weren’t you, Alice?’ Mrs Meadows smiled at her knowingly.

  ‘Yes … happen I was,’ agreed Alice, ‘but it didn’t take me long to change my mind.’

  They talked about the necessary details; the weekly terms, the methods of paying, etc. It was agreed that Alice should return for good in two weeks’ time. Jane was amazed at the way her mother waved a cheerful goodbye to the folk in the lounge.

  ‘Cheerio for now, but I’ll be back before long. Take care now, and behave yourselves!’

  Most of them smiled and waved, apart from one or two who were too engrossed in the chat show on the television.

  ‘Come on now, ring this fellow of yours,’ said Alice when they arrived home. ‘Are you sure you can’t read the telephone number?’

  But Jane could not decipher the writing on the screwed up bit of paper. It was surprising how quickly the woman at directory enquiries came up with the number she required.

  ‘Go on, what are you waiting for?’ said her mother. ‘I’ll go upstairs and sort out my things.’

  Thankfully she left Jane on her own. Her hands trembled a little as she picked up the receiver and dialled the number.

  ‘It was a woman’s voice that answered. ‘Hello, Cragside Farm. How can I help you?’

  ‘Could I speak to Mr Falconer, please?’ asked Jane.

  ‘Yes, of course. Do you want Mr David Falconer, or his son? They’re both outside, but they’re not far away.’

  ‘Oh, David, please …’

  ‘And who shall I say is calling?’

  ‘Just tell him that it’s … Jane.’

  ‘Oh … oh yes, right away.’

  Jane waited, her heart beating rapidly and her stomach churning with butterflies. Then she heard a familiar voice. ‘Jane … Is it really you?’

  ‘Yes … yes, it’s me, Dave.’

  ‘And …?’ That was all he said, but it was a loaded question.

  ‘And … it’s going to be alright, Dave. I can’t believe it, and neither will you. My mother’s decided she wants to go and live in the home, for good! So we’ll be able to meet. Isn’t that wonderful?’

  ‘It’s incredible! I could hardly believe it when Kathryn said it was Jane on the phone. That was my daughter-in-law … to be. You’ll be able to meet her soon, and Peter. I’ve told them about you, and they know I’ve been waiting and hoping … How soo
n can you come? Tomorrow?’

  Jane laughed. ‘No … I’m afraid not. We’ll have to wait a couple of weeks until Mother goes back to the home.’

  ‘Oh dear! So long?’

  ‘Yes, I know you said, once, that I could bring Mother to meet you – and I know she’ll be looking forward to that – but it will be better if I come on my own at first, don’t you think so?’

  ‘Whatever you say. I’m just so delighted, Jane, my dear. It didn’t take you long to change your mind!’

  ‘I never had any doubts about you and me. It was Mother who needed to change her mind, about all sorts of things. And I really believe she has.’

  ‘That’s wonderful … I shall be counting the days, the hours. It’s almost too good to be true …’

  ‘It’s true, Dave. It really is. I must go now, but I’ll see you soon.’

  ‘Yes, not soon enough for me … but I understand. Goodbye for now, or as I said before, au revoir. And … I love you, Jane …’

  ‘Yes, au revoir, Dave,’ she replied. And then, a trifle shyly, ‘I love you too …’