Journey's End

by Josephine Cox

  ‘Thank you, Sheila, I do the best with what I’ve got.’ Vicky was always pleasant and friendly, but she had no illusions where her daughter-in-law was concerned. She had long entertained suspicions about the woman’s fidelity, but that’s all they were … suspicions. She so much wanted to believe that Thomas and his wife were truly happy together. Certainly Thomas was, and for that she must be grateful.

  It had been a bitter disappointment that there were no grandchildren on the scene. It was probably too late for Thomas and Sheila, but there was still Ronnie; and though Susie was edging past the child-bearing years, there was time enough for her to become a mother. Having devoted all her time and effort to her business, Susie had yet to find the man she loved, but God willing, he was out there somewhere.

  Like a caged cat looking for an escape route, Sheila glanced about the room, her eyes alighting on Leonard. ‘Oh, there you are, Lenny,’ she gushed. ‘And how are you?’

  Leonard got out of his chair to kiss her fleetingly on the cheek. ‘I’m fine, thank you, Sheila.’

  She traversed her gaze around the room. ‘No Ronnie then?’

  ‘Not yet, no.’ Vicky showed no concern. ‘But I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.’

  ‘Really?’ Sheila’s sly grin made Vicky clench her fists. ‘You know very well he won’t turn up,’ she gloated. ‘He never does.’

  Thomas stepped in. ‘Sheila! That’s a hurtful thing to say.’

  ‘Maybe, but it’s true. He doesn’t give a damn about anybody but himself, least of all his family.’

  ‘Enough said!’ Stepping forward, Vicky thrust a tea-towel into her hands. ‘The roast potatoes need taking out of the oven. Would you mind, please?’

  The two women stood eyeball to eyeball, the older one smiling calmly and the younger one silently seething, but she knew better than to show her resentment. ‘Of course I don’t mind,’ she replied with a shrug. ‘But I’m surprised you’re so behind with the cooking, Vicky, honey. Normally you have the food all ready for serving.’

  Turning on her heels she went away grumbling. ‘I guess it don’t matter that I’ve just painted my nails, and if the grease spills down my new expensive jacket, who is there to care?’

  Vicky knew her daughter-in-law was goading her, but she did not retaliate. She had more important things on her mind than exchanging verbal blows with the spiteful Sheila. What she really wanted was for Ronnie to show his face. But she was not fooling herself. Sheila was right; he probably would not turn up, more’s the pity.

  A striking figure in a blue pencil skirt with matching bolero and cream-coloured blouse, Susie climbed the three flights of stairs to her brother’s apartment in the heart of Boston. As she climbed, she kept a wary eye about her. This was not the best of neighbourhoods.

  Yet again the elevator was out of order, and on the stairs that wound up the outside of the building, a lone visitor was a prime target for the hopeless bums who frequented this area.

  ‘Ronnie Davidson, you’re a hopeless bugger!’ she muttered as she traipsed upwards. ‘Hiding in your room skulking – I’m fed up with it! You live in a slum, you think the world’s against you, and you abandon your family at the drop of a hat. I won’t have it, d’you hear? You’re still my brother and God help me, I care about you … we all do.’

  Tripping over an empty box flung across her path, she kicked it aside. ‘You can moan and grumble all you like, but I don’t intend to let you waste your life like this!’

  Holding onto the handrail she followed the row of doors; damaged doors with broken windows, doors without any windows at all; doors that were kicked in and hanging on their hinges – and when she reached the door that had the name RONNIE painted on it in big, clumsy letters, she stopped, took a deep breath and knocked. ‘Ronnie! It’s me, Susie. Open up.’

  After a few more determined knocks and a series of loud shouts through the letter-box, the door slowly inched open, to reveal Ronnie’s unshaven face. ‘I thought I told you never to come here,’ he said in a surly voice. ‘It’s not safe for a woman on her own.’

  Susie pushed past him into the sitting room. ‘You know what they say: if the mountain won’t come to Mohammed and all that?’

  He glared at her. ‘What d’you want, sis?’

  ‘What do you think I want?’

  ‘I won’t know if you don’t tell me.’ Scratching his head, he sauntered across the room. ‘Banging on the door, yelling through the letter-box like a crazy woman!’

  Ignoring his rantings, Susie instructed him to get dressed.

  ‘I am dressed!’

  Shaking her head, she regarded his appearance: the shirt-tail hanging out, the crumpled trousers and the hair standing on end. ‘I’m not taking you out to the spread looking like that,’ she said. ‘You’ve got ten minutes,’ she warned. ‘I want you washed and dressed and fit to sit at the table with ordinary human beings.’

  ‘I’m not going to Mom’s house.’

  ‘You are!’

  ‘No, I’m not. And there’s nothing you can say that will make me change my mind.’

  ‘All right then.’ Hands on hips she gave it her best shot. ‘What if I was to say that if you don’t come with me now, I will never visit you again? I’ll forget I ever had a brother called Ronnie, and when you need me – which you frequently do – I’ll refuse to see you. I’ll cut you out of my life and leave you to sulk and hide and feel sorry for yourself, and when they drag your worthless body out of here, with your clothes stuck to your back, your teeth all rotten and your hair all gone, I’ll look the other way and make out I don’t even know you. Now then, what d’you say to that?’

  Ronnie burst out laughing. ‘You’re a lunatic!’ But he loved her. When he didn’t want his mother to know how deep he had sunk, and Thomas was driven to distraction, it was always Susie he turned to, always Susie who would sit for hours and listen to his sorry tale, and never judge or condemn. She simply came to his rescue, without question or reprimand. But not today. Today it seemed he had overstepped the mark with her.

  Susie cocked a thumb towards the bathroom. ‘I assume you have soap and water?’

  ‘Somewhere, I suppose.’

  ‘Then go wash!’

  Ronnie was still laughing at her previous remark. ‘I think I’d better,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to end up being dragged out of here with my clothes glued to my back … no teeth, no hair … whatever would the neighbours say?’ Then: ‘You’d make a good horror-writer, sis. I have to say, you certainly paint a gruesome picture.’

  Still chuckling, he made his way to the bathroom, where he ran the tap and stripped off, with the intention of making himself respectable.

  While he was splashing and scrubbing, Susie’s voice sailed in from the other room. ‘This place is a disgrace! The holes in the carpet, if you can call it that, are filled with cigarette butts, the springs in the sofa are poking through, and the curtains are hanging by a thread.’ There was a pause while she ran the tip of her finger along the window-sill. ‘Dust an inch thick everywhere. Dirty socks in the corner. The place stinks to high heaven. How in God’s name can you live in a dump like this?’

  While she went about the room tidying everything away, Ronnie mimicked her in the bedroom, where he was sorting a decent pair of trousers from the pile on the bed. ‘The place stinks … dirty socks, raggedy curtains, holes in the carpet.’ He chuckled, ‘I should think myself lucky to have a carpet – not everybody round here has that luxury.’

  A moment later he burst out of the bedroom. ‘Right then, kiddo, do I look human enough?’ He made a handsome figure; tall and slim, with his thick mop of fair hair brushed back from his face, which was now shining clean and free of whiskers.

  Susie approved of the new Ronnie. ‘Where did you get the trousers from?’

  ‘I’ve had them for ages, why?’

  ‘They’re too big.’ Susie observed how the belt was too long to fit the buckle-prong into the holes, so it was wrapped round and round, with the t
ail end tucked into the pocket of his trousers.

  ‘I’ve lost weight.’ Thrusting his hands into the pockets, Ronnie looked set for a confrontation. ‘So now you’re about to have a go at me for that, are you? No doubt you’d rather have me fat and flabby with drooping jowls and a huge belly hanging over my belt.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly!’

  ‘You’re right, I am silly. Silly to think that somewhere in that hard heart of yours, you might find a snippet of praise for the effort I’ve made.’

  ‘Is that the only belt you’ve got?’

  ‘ ’Fraid so.’

  With time marching on, Susie was considering how she could rectify the situation. ‘Have you by any chance got a pair of scissors?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘A sharp knife then?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘What do you use to cut your cheese?’

  ‘I don’t. I just take a bite whenever I feel the urge.’

  ‘That’s disgusting!’

  ‘No, it’s not.’ He cocked his head. ‘You should try it,’ he advised. ‘It tastes better when you tear off a chunk with your teeth.’

  While he ranted on, teasing and taunting, Susie dug into her handbag. ‘Got it!’ Brandishing a pair of nail scissors, she advanced on him with a determined gleam in her eye.

  ‘Hey!’ Backing off, Ronnie demanded to know what she was about.

  ‘Stand still, and stop your moaning!’ Grabbing hold of him, she whipped the belt from his trousers and while he struggled to hold them up, she gouged a couple more holes in the belt. ‘Here, try it now.’

  He slid the belt round his waist and was delighted to find that it fitted snugly with the new holes. ‘You’re not just a pretty face, are you, sis?’

  Snipping off the tag end of the belt, she stepped back to view her handiwork. ‘There – that looks better.’ Grabbing his jacket from the chair she threw it to him. ‘We’d best get going, or we’ll miss dinner altogether.’

  He frowned. ‘Do I have to come?’

  Her answer was to drag him out of the door. ‘If anybody needs a good meal inside him, it’s you. So come on, move yourself, and when you get there don’t sulk in a corner, and don’t refuse the drink Leonard is bound to offer you.’

  As they went down the fire-escape to the sidewalk she was still giving out her orders. ‘… And don’t drink too much, or you’ll only end up saying the wrong thing.’

  ‘Gee, Suze, I never knew you were such a nag!’

  ‘Get in the car.’ In minutes she had him inside with the door shut, and after scrambling into the driver’s seat she went off down the road at such a speed he hung on to his seat for dear life. ‘Slow down, you’re driving like a damned lunatic!’

  ‘Rubbish! I’m only doing fifty miles an hour.’

  ‘That’s what I mean. I’m too young to die.’

  The banter continued all the way out of town and on towards the big farmstead.

  ‘If you get us there in one piece I’ll eat my hat!’ Ronnie promised.

  ‘For God’s sake, shut up and relax. I know what I’m doing.’

  By the time they arrived, Vicky was about to serve the first course. Placing the tureen of soup on the table, she ran out to meet them. ‘You decided to come after all. Oh Ronnie, I’m so pleased.’

  ‘Your bullying daughter dragged me here,’ he moaned. ‘She also made me wash and shave, she cut off a chunk of my belt, and nearly killed us both on the way here.’

  ‘Take no notice of him, Mom.’ Kissing Vicky on the cheek, Susie explained, ‘It wasn’t my driving that made him a shivering wreck. He was already like that when I found him.’

  Leonard was delighted to see Ronnie. ‘Your mother was worried about you,’ he said.

  Ronnie never had much to say to Leonard, and tonight was no exception. Without replying, he addressed Vicky. ‘There’s no need for you to worry. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.’

  ‘I only wish that were true!’ Vicky knew her children like she knew herself, and she never cared much for the way Ronnie deliberately excluded Leonard from any conversation. ‘But I’m glad you’re here, all the same. We all are, aren’t we, Leonard?’

  His stepfather smiled at Ronnie, a smile that said, ‘Even if you don’t accept me, I’ll still be here whenever you need me.’

  ‘I think Ronnie already knows,’ he replied. ‘I’m always glad to see him.’

  Vicky gave Susie a grateful glance, discreetly thanking her for bringing Ronnie home, even if it was only for a short time. He was the stray sheep that had not yet found its way back to the fold.

  ‘Right,’ she announced, ‘dinner’s ready. There’s pea and ham soup to start, thick and rich, the way you all like it.’ It had been one of Barney’s favourites.

  The evening went just as Vicky had planned, with everyone together, all eager to catch up with the latest news and gossip. ‘Now that we’ve managed to secure Baron’s Farm, that will bring our holding up to close on a thousand acres of prime productive land.’

  Leonard had been after the 200-acre farm for some long time, and now that he had secured it into the family holding, he was desperate to persuade Ronnie to come back and work with them. It was what he wanted and, more importantly, it would make Vicky a contented woman.

  Vicky picked up immediately on his piece of news. Addressing Ronnie, she told him, ‘Leonard has it in mind to renovate the old farmhouse. It’s yours, if you want it.’ Under the table she kept her fingers crossed, hoping he might leap at the chance. ‘You know the place,’ she reminded him. ‘It’s in a lovely spot, and you can be as isolated as you want. Please, Ronnie, we all want you to come home. Say you’ll take it.’

  All eyes were on Ronnie as he seemed to be considering the proposition. When at length he gave his answer, it was not the one Vicky wanted to hear, yet it was the one they all expected. ‘Not yet, Mother.’ He gave a determined shake of the head. ‘I’m not ready. It’s not that I don’t want to, you know that.’

  ‘So, what is it then?’ Thomas was quick to lose his temper where Ronnie was concerned. ‘You don’t seem to know how lucky you are. Leonard is offering you a tidy house, and a chance to come back where you belong. At least give it a try. If it doesn’t work out, then you’ve got choices.’

  But Ronnie could not be persuaded. ‘Like I said, I’m not ready. It’s a wonderful offer and I appreciate the thought, but I can’t be shackled. I need the freedom to work when I can and wander when the mood takes me.’ He looked at his stepfather. ‘Sorry, Leonard. Like I say, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer.’

  While Susie had kept her silence, Sheila was bolder. ‘You must be mad!’ This was the first she’d heard of Baron’s Farm being sold to Leonard. ‘If it’s not wanted, we’ll take it, won’t we, darling?’ Snuggling up to Thomas she made cow eyes. ‘We could really do something with that old place, and like Lenny says, it’s in a lovely spot.’

  Like everyone else, Thomas ignored her comment. He, more than most, knew how Sheila was never satisfied with what she had. To her, the grass was always greener on the other side.

  ‘The house was not offered to us,’ he said coolly, ‘and even if it was, we don’t need two houses. End of discussion.’

  ‘The farmhouse is yours, whenever you’re ready,’ Leonard assured Ronnie. ‘You’re an important part of the family business, and we all want you with us, like I say … whenever you’re ready. At the moment, the house is being totally renovated. The builders reckon it should be finished in about six months’ time. Take it or leave it, but it’s yours. The deeds will be in your name, and the keys put aside for when you decide to come and collect them. There’s no pressure. It’s entirely up to you.’

  Ronnie thanked him sincerely, and now that the discussion was over and the mood had lightened, Susie had a thing or two to say. ‘I wouldn’t give him a choice,’ she teased. ‘I’d lock him up in the house until he came to his senses. Anywhere is better than that hellhole he lives in.’


  Grinning, Ronnie shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s my hellhole,’ he objected. ‘It’s where I want to be … for now.’

  Vicky had listened to all of this, and her heart ached for Barney’s youngest son. Like the rest of them he was still hurting, but instead of getting on with life, he had immersed himself so deeply in the past, he just couldn’t let go. All she could do was wait and pray, and hope that sometime soon, Ronnie would find peace in his heart and the need for his family about him. More than that, she could not do.

  She now turned her attention to her daughter. ‘And what’s happening in the world of hats?’

  Susie swallowed a forkful of potato. ‘Well, I too have bought property – I acquired the old butcher’s shop, and I’m already having plans drawn up to change it into a fashionable milliner’s. It’s in a good area, on a corner position, with two panoramic windows and huge floorspace. It’s got great potential.’

  ‘Well done, sis!’ Thomas exclaimed. ‘I’m proud of you.’

  Everyone raised their glass in celebration, even Sheila, though her comment was a touch sarcastic. ‘What will that be – your fifth shop now? Soon you’ll own the whole of Boston and we won’t be able to walk down any street without seeing your name in lights.’

  Her face fell with Susie’s second revelation of exciting news.

  ‘You know I’ve been after that contract to supply the French house for the spring season?’

  Ronnie groaned. ‘We should do,’ he said jovially. ‘You’ve been harping on about it these past nine months! I told you then – the French have cracked it where hats and fashion are concerned. You’ve no chance. Might as well forget it, sis. This time you’ve lost out.’

  ‘Ah, well that’s where you’re wrong!’ Susie took delight in telling them all, ‘I sent them half a dozen samples and they’ve all sold. I have now secured the contract to supply for the coming two seasons. There! I told you I’d get it and I have.’

  Vicky leaped out of her chair. ‘Oh Susie, you clever thing.’