Ahead of his Time
by Adrian Cousins
Copyright © 2021 Adrian Cousins
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever with express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names characters, business, Schools, places, locales, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
www.adriancousins.co.uk
Contents
1 Merlyn
2 Cortina
3 Brexit
4 Scotty, Beam Us UP
5 Summer Ball
6 Boycie
7 Flux-Capacitor
8 Quicker Than The Human Eye
9 Instagram
10 Olivetti
11 Magaluf
12 Corona
13 Walmart
14 10CC
15 Pony
16 Mary Celeste
17 Eliza Doolittle
18 The Deadwood Stage
19 Lusardi
20 Ginger Beer
21 Candid Camera
22 Hot Wheels
23 Mr Byrite
24 MI6
25 Annual Appraisal
26 Orinoco
27 Uber
28 Buzz Lightyear
29 Frenchie
30 Stifler's Mom
31 Timmy
32 The Damned
33 TCP
34 Black Queen
35 New Dawn
36 Guillotine
37 All Mod Cons
38 Spit The Dog
39 Bunsen Burner
40 Twiggy
41 The Long Kiss Goodnight
42 Honey Monster
43 Wacky-Backy
44 Friends Reunited
45 Blind Date
46 Mrs Blunders
47 Hamleys
48 Time-Bend
49 'Murrayisms'
50 Ferris Bueller's Day Off
51 Dad Dancing
52 Gold Dust
53 Sweet Jesus
54 Ahead Of His Time
Part 1
1
3rd January 1977
Merlyn
Grace often pondered if her sullen demeanour could be attributed to the cold winter months. Not that she was one for prancing around Stonehenge on the summer solstice with daisies in her hair, but she always felt brighter at that time of year. Although there was a slight uptick in her mood today after returning to work following the way too long Christmas break. She’d spent that on her own as usual and, as she hated all festivities and the shite TV programmes on offer, it actually felt good to get back into the office. Tonight would definitely stick another dampener on her mood because her pathetic daughter would be around performing her usual begging routine.
She cringed at the thought of what new ridiculous scrape Jess might have got into and really couldn’t understand how she could have produced such a disappointment.
Grace barged her way through the line of commuters who’d stupidly blocked the train station entrance as they waited for a taxi, all standing hunched up in their thick coats and stamping their feet.
“Excuse me! Excuse me!” she shouted at the idiots who eventually parted to make room.
“Oi, watch it!” a young lad called out, as she nudged him out of the way.
Grace marched on. “Bugger off!” she muttered, as she stuck her nose in the air and strode purposefully across the car park.
Grace was thankful she only had that short walk home, and the decision to stay in her terraced house just half a mile from Fairfield Station had been a good one.
After her promotion to full-partner last October, she’d considered moving up to one of the large houses on the exclusive new development on Winchmore Drive. Unfortunately, the property with the large corner plot had already been snatched up, and she wasn’t convinced the other houses were befitting her new lofty status. However, after procrastinating for a few weeks she lost out on all the properties, so had decided to give up on the idea. Anyway, she was comfortable and with Merlyn as her only companion, there was no point moving.
Grace stepped into the dark hallway and snapped on the lights. She plucked up the pile of post, flung it on the console table and lobbed her keys on the top. Swanking from side to side, Merlyn sauntered through from the kitchen. He rubbed around her legs and arched his back whilst pointing his tail bolt upright.
“Evening puss-puss, I expect you're hungry.”
Merlyn was the only reliable male she’d ever met and was quite contented to live her life with him as her only companion. The other partners at the firm were all male and often tried to treat her like one of the secretaries. However, she was a far more capable solicitor than her male counterparts – she knew it, and so did they – which made her so intimidating.
Her daughter, Jess, had moved out a couple of years ago, and now their relationship was strained even more than when she’d lived at home. Grace expected that tonight’s visit would be short and painful as always. She fed Merlyn and positioned the kettle on the stove, planning to have a coffee whilst waiting for her errant daughter. After Jess had left, she could then enjoy her evening meal.
“Hi, Mum.” Jess stood on the doorstep, wearing a long, filthy Afghan coat and that ruddy annoying smirk on her face.
Grace looked her up and down, turned her nose up, sneered and marched back to the kitchen. She assumed her wayward daughter would follow. Grace plucked her cheque book out of her handbag and opened the cover at the ready, hoping the request would fall below the two hundred pounds which she’d asked for last time.
Jess stomped in, following her mother after kicking the front door shut. “You not talking to me then?”
“Jess, how much this time?” Grace had her pen ready poised over the cheque book. The sooner she could hand over the cheque and get her out of there, she could prepare her evening meal. There was no point in small talk – that was all done. Jess had decided on her life path, and that was that. Grace was no longer interested in whatever scrapes she’d landed in, and a cheque thrown at Jess every few months to keep her at bay suited her. She tucked a strand of blonde hair around her left ear, peered up at Jess and arched her eyebrow.
“Well, how much this time?”
Jess perched her bum on the kitchen table, scraped her long blonde hair back and adjusted her tie-dyed headband. “Mum, can we just talk?”
Grace narrowed her eyes, stared at her daughter, and huffed as she dropped the pen on her cheque book, now disappointed her idiotic daughter wanted to talk. Usually, this encounter was over in a few seconds, with a cheque handed over, and Jess would be off back to wherever she was squatting now.
“What d’you want to talk about? It’s all been said, hasn’t it?”
“I wanna talk about my father.”
“No, Jess. That subject is closed. It closed twenty years ago when you were born, and I’m not talking about him now.”
“Mum, I have a right to know who he is. I don't know anything about him, not even his name. I’m twenty-one this year, so I think it’s about time I knew who he was.” Jess stared at her mother’s emotionless eyes, unable to guess what was going through her cold-hearted mind.
Grace sneered again as she stared at her disappointing daughter. “I’m not talking about him.”
“You can’t keep him from me; it’s not fair. If you don’t help, I’ll find him anyway … whether you like it or not.” Jess stood and folded her arms. Merlyn sat staring up at her, licking his lips and yawning – she’d always hated cats.
“
Well, good luck with that! He left the UK just after you were born. As I’ve repeatedly told you, he’s not worth knowing. Anyway, why now? You haven’t mentioned this for years.”
Jess scowled at the cat, pulled out a chair and plonked herself down. “Can I have a coffee?”
Grace huffed again, relit the stove and fished a cup from the mug tree, now really annoyed the conversation was going to be far longer than she’d hoped. Jess had always been a real handful and, along with monumentally screwing up her education, she’d buggered off at the age of eighteen to live God knows where. Not that Grace gave a toss as she wasn’t the maternal type. Jess had been a mistake with the one man she’d set up home with, and that was a long time in the past.
“I want to get to know him. You’re not interested, so it would be good to have one parent that cares.”
“How dare you. HOW DARE YOU!” Grace spun around with her hands on her hips and glared at her daughter. “I’m the one who brought you up. I’m the one who’s put up with all your antics over the years. I’m the one who works so hard to pay for your upbringing. And you, stupid girl … I’m the one who bails you out every few months because you can’t take responsibility for yourself!” Grace felt her blood rising and was in a good mind to tell her pointless daughter to bugger off. It certainly wasn’t her fault that Jess had turned out to be a useless no-hoper.
“Oh, come on! You never wanted me, and you brought me up because you had no choice. Don’t pull the old, my-mother-cares routine. That won’t wash with me—”
“No!” Grace leant across the table, cutting her daughter short, “You’ve no idea. You’re away with the fairies! Take some responsibility for God’s sake, girl!”
“What like you did with me? You washed your hands of me as soon as you could. You’re no mother … you’re a fucking robot!”
“Don’t you use that kind of language. You’re slipping into the gutter, girl.”
Both women leant across the table, their knuckles now white as they pressed their balled fists onto the Formica top. Merlyn hopped up onto the table and stood between them. He swished his head from side to side as he observed the ‘tennis match’ and waited to see who’s court the ball was now in.
Jess stood and huffed. “Oh, that fucking cat.” Rummaging in her coat pocket, she fished out a scrunched-up packet of Camel.
“Don’t smoke in here.” Grace lifted Merlyn, cuddled him and nuzzled her chin in his soft grey fur.
With tears forming in her eyes, Jess lit her cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. She’d become so emotional over the last few weeks which was so unlike her as she had her mother's steel-like persona and now struggled to understand this new feeling. Jess firmly believed her mother loved that bloody cat more than her own daughter.
“Did you ever love him?”
“Who?”
“My father! I’m not talking about the bloody cat as I know you love him!” She blew smoke at the cat that faced her, cuddled in her mother’s arms. Merlyn didn’t move, only slowly blinking as the smoke wafted around him.
Grace had loved him. Although they both were born in Fairfield, they hadn’t met before attending St Andrew’s University. The fact they both came from a small Hertfordshire town was the initial connection when they’d met in the student bar. She was in her first year, and he was completing his Masters – she quickly became besotted with him. The first year together had been bliss. They’d rented a small flat together and she’d never been happier. However, it went sour when he’d demanded a termination when she fell pregnant. They were too young, he’d said, and it would ruin their lives. Grace had wanted his child and the fairy-tale romance. After Jess was born the impasse between them eventually led to the relationship breaking down, and she was left holding the baby.
“No, I never loved him … he was a waster,” she lied.
Jess moved over to the window and flicked her ash in the sink.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Jess! This isn’t some squat … use an ashtray.”
Jess turned and looked at her mother as those annoying tears started to form again. She tried to blink them away and used her coat’s dirty fur sleeve to wipe her eyes.
Grace set Merlyn down on the floor and plucked up her pen to write out a cheque. She hesitated on the amount as she pondered whether three hundred pounds would be enough to quickly persuade Jess to leave, as she was now tired of this conversation. Tearing off the cheque that she’d made out to Jessica Redmond for three-hundred pounds, she turned and presented it to her.
Jess glanced at the cheque but didn’t take it.
Grace waved the cheque. “Take it. It’s what you came for.”
“No. I want to know about my father. That’s what I came for.”
Grace folded the cheque and dropped it into the side pocket of Jess’s coat. “Take it and go. There’s nothing more to talk about.”
“I’m pregnant.” She turned from her mother and stubbed the cigarette out on the side of the sink.
“For Christ’s sake, Jess. That’s a sink! Use the bloody ashtray … it’s there on the window-sill.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Yes. I suppose you’ll want more money from me, assuming you’re going to have this baby?”
“Is that all you can say? I wasn’t expecting the delighted Grandmother reaction. But is that all you can come up with?”
“I’m not interested and don’t expect me to be. It’s another stupid situation you’ve got yourself in to. I’ll help you financially, but I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“Fucking hell! You really are a cold-hearted bitch!”
Merlyn hopped up on the counter and tried to trapeze his way across the edge of the sink towards Jess. He presumably had no idea of the hatred she had for him.
“Don’t you want to know who the father is?”
“Do you know?”
Jess shook her head in disbelief. Why she had expected anything else from her mother, God only knows.
“I’m not surprised you don’t know.” Grace folded her arms and looked down her nose at the disappointment that was her daughter.
“I do know!”
“Why did you shake your head when I asked if you knew then?”
“I didn’t! I shook my head at you, and how uncaring you are!”
“Well, whoever he is, he’d better take some responsibility. That’s assuming you’re going to keep this bastard child?”
“Yes, of course, I am! I’ll love this baby more than you ever loved me!” Jess placed her hand on her tummy. Although she was only a few months pregnant, she had that protective feeling for her unborn child. Now suspecting her tears were for the father, who she knew wouldn’t be part of the child’s early years.
“I want my birth certificate … that’s assuming my father’s name is on it. Although being a poncy solicitor, you probably had his name erased from that by some legal decree at the same time you changed your bloody Christian name! He has a right to know he’ll have a grandchild, you know!”
“He has no rights. No rights what … so … ever.” Grace leant forward towards Jess. “He buggered off and left us! So … no … no…! He’s forfeited his right to know anything.”
“If you didn’t love him, why do you care? It doesn’t matter, does it? You want nothing to do with him … great … fine, but don’t stop me!”
“I DID LOVE HIM!”
Grace stood with her mouth open, shocked at what she’d said. Stunned at her own outburst, she reached behind her to grab hold of a chair and then gently sat down at the table. She hadn’t meant to say that, although it was the truth as Jason was the only man she’d ever loved. All those years she’d stayed so strong, holding that lost love away from her heart – it was her way of coping.
“What’s his name?”
“Jason … Jason Apsley … no middle name.” Grace had changed Jess’s surname when she was still a baby, from Apsley to her surname – Redmond. She’d wanted to banish everything to
do with Jason, including his name.
“Apsley, are you sure?” Jess sat at the table and narrowed her eyes at her mother.
“What do you mean, am I sure? Of course, I know who your bloody father is! More than you probably know who the father of that is!” she spat back, pointing at Jess’s stomach.
Ignoring her mother’s anger, she took a moment to think as that name was definitely familiar to her. “I’ve heard my boyfriend mention him. He lives on the Broxworth Estate.”
“No, no, he emigrated to South Africa after you were born. That’s just a coincidence. Jason wouldn't live up there … don’t tell me you’re living up there now? For God’s sake, girl, you’ve hit rock bottom.”
Jess rummaged through her pockets again as she searched for her cigarettes. Grabbing the crushed soft pack of Camel, she fished out the last crumpled cigarette and straightened it before lighting up and flopping back into her chair. Her mother sat stroking the moronic cat that’d sprung onto her lap. The relationship with her mother had always been fraught, and she wondered if she could find her father if that relationship could be better. Although he’d never wanted her in the first place, so maybe not.
Jess blew out the smoke to the ceiling, contemplating that she’d be raising this child on her own. Her mother wasn’t interested and, her father, whoever he was, probably wouldn’t be either. Although she loved her boyfriend, he wouldn’t be there to support her unless there was a miracle. She felt the folded cheque in her pocket; at least if nothing else, her mother would keep supplying these, and she was going to need them. All she had to do was keep turning up from time to time, and her mother would produce a cheque just to get rid of her.
Her mother and Merlyn just stared at her. “I’m going now.” She stepped over to the sink and stubbed her cigarette out on the side whilst looking at the ashtray on the window-sill. Jess knew it would annoy her mother, and it felt good to have the power to do that. She strode across the kitchen, turned and looked at her mother again. She hovered as Grace had her nose nuzzled in the cat’s fur, but she didn’t look up. Jess swivelled around and left, leaving the front door ajar just to piss her off a bit more.
Ahead of his Time Page 1
