Time to Let Go

by Christoph Fischer

  “Why don’t you pay your daughter the money and get her to write the book for you?” Hanna asked.

  “The money I have is not enough for that. She earns and needs much more than I could afford to pay. Besides, her husband is too proud to accept my money.”

  “I will think about your offer,” Hanna said.

  “You don’t know yet if you can trust me,” Fariba replied. “Of course you can’t trust anybody in this life. Let me make a final point. I have a little money aside that the children do not know about. All three have secure incomes and are well-off already. What I pay you as a salary is an investment. It frees Shahnaz to pursue her own career. So we are all winners.”

  “Ok Fariba, thank you for your offer, but I have to go now, I am late for a date,” Hanna announced.

  “Oh, now it is a date!” Fariba said and chuckled. “And they say money can’t buy you love!”

  As Hanna walked down the grand staircase Shahnaz came up to her and took her aside.

  “I know my mother can be a bit overbearing and pushy but please know that the entire family is behind her proposal.”

  “How so? You don’t even really know me,” Hanna pointed out. “And your husband has not met me at all.”

  “We have heard enough about you from Karim and my mother to have a good idea. More than we could tell from a 30 minute interview with a stranger applying for the job. We would love it if you could help her with her writing. Maybe even only on a part-time basis. It would give her life a completely new meaning. She desperately needs an outlet and has finally found something worthwhile and stimulating. With you, we all know what we would be letting ourselves in for. You have a mother in need of care yourself. You are a trained people’s person. We stand behind her choice. That is all I would like you to know before you make a decision.”

  “Thank you Shahnaz. That is very sweet of you to say,” Hanna said getting a bit emotional.

  “It is not sweet, it is desperate,” Shahnaz admitted. “I love my mother but I can only do so much. I don’t know how much you know about Jewish guilt but it is a crippling factor in my life. I could never have suggested for her to get someone in to help us out.”

  “Well she just told me that it is you who would not let her hire help,” Hanna said surprised.

  “Then you just learned the basis of our family dynamics. It’s a sick game we are playing but there are certain things we will never admit to each other. We will secretly suffer but not accept a remedy; it would be too hurtful to tell the other. That is why it is so fantastic that she has decided to offer you a job. It will make life easier for all of us without losing the pretence, but most importantly it will enrich her life because she is hiring a friend and companion, rather than just a service. If there was no personal touch and no friendship component we could never let her go ahead with it. That would be neglecting our own responsibilities.”

  “I am not a nurse. I can only help a little in those areas. I would not be insured if something went wrong,” Hanna pointed out.

  “Yes, well, and neither am I and yet I am doing just what I can. We wouldn’t expect you to do anything beyond your capacities. From what I am being told about you, I am certain that you will treat my mother with the respect and dignity that she deserves, and not like a stroke victim you are paid to look after. It is that human touch that we need most of all. It is the very least we owe her.”

  “Her health is unstable. She could have another stroke and I would be on the street,” Hanna pointed out.

  “We have connections,” Shahnaz said and put her hand on Hanna’s arm. “If this project falls through for whatever reasons we will help you find something else suitable. Have some faith!”

  Karim saved Hanna by spotting the two women on the staircase.

  “Are you ready Hanna?” he called, interrupting them as he moved towards the two of them.

  “Oh yes,” Hanna called and ran down the stairs towards him. She quickly turned back and said a quick: “Thanks, Shahnaz.”

  “What happened?” Karim asked her when they sat in the car.

  Hanna told him about the offer his mother had made and about the force with which it had been endorsed by Fariba and Shahnaz.

  “I am so sorry. If I had known this I would never have introduced you to my mother,” he said. “She is capable of a lot of things but believe me I had no idea she would be this interfering. I did not see that coming. My mother is generous and warm but she has never taken to anybody in such a way. That must have been quite uncomfortable for you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Working with the public has made me more thick skinned than you might think,” Hanna said bravely.

  “Well, I hope so. When mother really wants something she goes straight for the jugular,” Karim said with a familiar grin.

  “Where would you like to go?” Hanna asked him while starting the engine.

  “How about Thai food? I know a restaurant that offers all of its dishes with tofu substitutes, so you’d have a good vegetarian choice.”

  “Sounds good to me: I’m too hungry to argue.”

  “In that case park somewhere near Town Square,” he told her. The roads were empty and they easily found a parking spot close to the restaurant.

  “So what do you think about her offer? Would you consider it at all?” Karim asked once they sat down in the heavily ornamented restaurant.

  They were seated by the window and had a great view down onto the road and the town.

  “Obviously I’d have no job security, not in the way I have it at the airline,” Hanna said and opened her menu. The waiter, dressed in traditional baggy trousers and a white shirt brought some water to the table, bowed and left them to it.

  “You can trust my mother on that part,” Karim reassured her.

  “I am used to shift work and to many of the perks. I have not had my feet on the ground for longer than a few days at a time for almost two decades. Many of my friends who quit flying have regretted it afterwards. I am worried I am giving up something good, even though it has not felt right for some time,” Hanna admitted.

  “It must be so hard to be away from the ones you love for such long periods of time. I can appreciate that.”

  “What goes around in my mind is that I did not know that poor woman from Adam and yet there I was; the last person in her life. If I keep flying some random stranger could be that person for my parents. I was not comfortable being that person for the woman on the plane, but to think that my mother would be relying on a random nurse, or paramedic, does not sit easily with me.”

  “Well, even if you lived with your mother you wouldn’t be with her every second,” Karim pointed out.

  “I know,” she said with deep sigh. “I know.”

  The waiter arrived to take their order but Hanna had not even looked at the menu. Nothing seemed very exciting. That was life in small towns for you, Hanna thought, who was used to 24 hour room service and the countless dining options in London.

  “I should have known,” she said. “When a restaurant has that many statues and pictures and fake plants the food must also be tacky.”

  “You’ll be surprised at the standard of the food here then,” Karim promised.

  “I have been to Thailand and the reputable restaurants there have simple designs, wood and bamboo, none of this fancy stuff.”

  “Well, get ready to be impressed,” Karim said and signalled the waiter to take their order.

  “Tell me about your other brother,” Karim said when they had ordered. “The name Patrick keeps coming up in conversation but nobody says much about him.”

  “Well observed,” Hanna said with a smile. “We mention the name but we all shy away from going into details.”

  “Why is that?”

  “To start with: Henrik and Patrick always had this obsessive competition with each other. I have no idea where it came from but Henrik had to trump everything that Patrick did. As children he needed to build bigger sand castles, taller snow men an
d do everything better than his younger brother. When Patrick ran a half marathon, all of a sudden Henrik trained for the full one. He was so worried about being outdone that he went overboard with everything.”

  “Is Patrick as bad as his brother?” Karim asked. “Does he try and outshine Henrik?”

  “No, he doesn’t want to and he doesn’t need to. He is naturally gifted. Everything just falls into his lap. If anything he adds insult to injury by not taking any notice of the competition. It drives Henrik nuts, who always had to work really hard for his achievements.”

  “What does Patrick do?”

  “Originally he studied psychology and did really well with it. He had a brilliant mind for statistics, which apparently is a huge part of psychological studies these days. He was head hunted at university by several pharmaceutical companies to help them with their research and analysis. He turned many rather prestigious job offers down and instead worked in idealistic and lowly paid counselling institutions.”

  “Do you mean charities, or the NHS?” Karim asked.

  “Both.”

  “That must have been a boost for Henrik? Giving him the undisputed lead over his brother?”

  “You would have thought so,” Hanna replied. “Unfortunately, it made things even worse for Henrik. He had worked so hard to get to the top of his profession, and made the best of what he was capable of; then his brother who could do even better but is not bothered enough to see it through. My father was always very proud of Henrik but he rarely acknowledged him. Instead my father was consumed with Patrick and what he could achieve, if he only saw the light. It must have been very painful for Henrik but there is more about Patrick. He also plays drums for the Midnight Shooters. Have you heard of them?”

  “Really? That’s your brother? Of course I have heard of them. Everyone has: ‘Eyes of the Owl?’ and ‘Blue Bolts?’ They are a really good band!” Karim said excitedly.

  “You can imagine my father’s reaction when he hears that his clever son has become a musician.”

  “I can’t see why your father would object to that. They are fairly successful. Has Patrick given up psychology completely?” Karim asked.

  “Not entirely,” Hanna told him. “He thinks that everyone should have the right to have counselling without charge and so he takes clients on for free to help people who either can’t afford to pay, or who can’t wait until it is their turn on the NHS waiting lists.”

  “Your father seems to me like a nice guy. I thought he would be proud of a Samaritan son,” Karim stated with surprise.

  “It is not the charity aspect that annoys him. Quite the opposite. He accuses Patrick of being selfish. Going into research and the higher end of science would benefit more people in the long term. My father regards all of Patrick’s current work as a short sighted waste of a brain capable of so much more.”

  “Is Patrick married?” Karim asked.

  “Oh no. Gay as a goose. That is another thing which I believe has driven my brothers apart. Henrik had always the good looking girlfriends and he fancied himself as the more attractive of the two. Of course, that blew up in his face when he found out that his brother was not competing in the same market, as it were. The girlfriends were sleeping with Henrik, but they often preferred Patrick’s company when they stayed over or came to our house.”

  “How does your father feel about the gay thing?”

  “He does not know. Ever since Rock Hudson and the AIDS crisis in the eighties he has taken a rather suspicious line on the matter and Patrick felt he had hurt his father too much already with his life choices.”

  “Being gay is not a choice,” Karim said.

  “I work for an airline. You do not need to teach me anything about the gays. I mastered in the subject,” Hanna pointed out with a smile.

  “So you never speak about Patrick?”

  “Someone might say: “Patrick is on tour”, but that will be the extent of it. I never tell him where Patrick tours. Some of the gigs are big. Henrik lives now steadily in the UK, but I think he misses the travel and I never mention the holistic retreat in Cornwall that Patrick has set up. He does life coaching and group therapies. He sometimes even gives talks about it and tours with other gurus and spiritual advisers, or whatever they are called. One day my father will see a poster advert for one of those events and faint.”

  “Why are you not mentioning any of this to your father? It seems silly to hide it.”

  “Yes, it is,” Hanna confirmed.

  “Your brother seems an interesting guy. I find it strange that with his background in psychology he would not be more open with his family.”

  “Patrick has inherited my mother’s kind heart. As I mentioned earlier, he doesn’t want to upset anyone. He senses how difficult it would be for his father to accept him and his life, so the two of them have established the classic ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. That way, of course, they cannot connect and are quite distant. Patrick is so busy; he hardly finds the time to come home. He told me once he thinks that there is nothing better he can do for the family than to leave them be, whereas in his line of work he has the chance of making a huge difference in many people’s lives. To some extent I tend to agree,” Hanna admitted.

  “And with regards to your mother? Does he not come and see her? What about caring for her?”

  “He says he cannot make enough effort to see her regularly. It would only excite her and then break her heart by leaving. He thinks it is kinder to stay away, now that she cannot remember much.”

  “Does he even have time for relationships?”

  “Now you have found his weak spot,” Hanna replied. “He claims he doesn’t have the time but in my opinion he has serious intimacy issues. He is not great looking, but he has charisma and the most gorgeous hunks throw themselves at him. How none of them ever work out is beyond me. Patrick drops one perfect boyfriend after the other.”

  “Does your mother know about Patrick?”

  “I think she does. It was never discussed openly. Patrick worried that finding out might hurt her too much. She was always so conservative in her views. I tried to reassure him that whatever her general ideas might be, on a human level she would be fine with it. After all, he is her son!” Hanna said. “He only said that she might worry about him unnecessarily. She did stop asking him about girlfriends some time before the disease kicked in, so we think the knowledge is in there somewhere.”

  “Your family appear to avoid all big discussions,”

  “We argue enough already. We could waste a lot more time arguing with each other. By pretending that some of the serious issues do not exist, on some weird level we are actually closer to each other. Undistracted by things we won’t agree on; the superficial harmonies are slightly false but a better option.”

  “Fascinating,” Karim said. “And you want to tighten your ties to the family all the same?”

  “I know, I am mad.”

  The rest of the meal was spent with more casual conversation about travel destinations and hospital politics. Hanna dropped Karim back at his sister’s house and when she returned to Karim’s place her father was still up.

  “You’re up late,” Hanna observed, then added a concerned: “Are you alright?”

  Walter sat on the sofa with his war book and absentmindedly toyed with his reading glasses.

  “Yes, Pumpkin, of course I am. I am just day dreaming.”

  “How was your evening? Was mother better after I left?”

  “Who can say,” he said with a heavy sigh.

  Hanna felt a pang of guilt for leaving him alone tonight, even though it was him who had told her to leave.

  “I am afraid I have to go to London really early tomorrow for some meetings. I’ll call you when I am done so you know when to expect me back.”

  “Of course. Thank you.” He forced a smile at her but she was already out of the door.

  Chapter 21: Tuesday

  Only a few hours later Hanna got into her car, eager
to beat the morning traffic in to London. The notion of having to hide from journalists seemed silly now. The letter box in her apartment building in London was overflowing but the bulk of it was unimportant.

  She arrived early at the union office and had plenty of time before her appointment with the lawyer was scheduled.

  Two men were on duty this morning in the tiny flat the union had rented next to the airline headquarters. She had worked or ‘flown’ with one of them, Mark, a middle aged family man who did this work mainly to be at home more often with his wife, she remembered him saying. He was on the phone while simultaneously shuffling some papers and files on his desk; the other guy was Tony, a young gay man whom she only knew from the union leaflets.

  “Hanna, love!” Tony called out excitedly and gave her a big hug, “our little heroine. How are you my darling?”

  “I am fine I guess. Not looking forward to this business today,” she admitted. “Where is Nicky?”

  “Her son has got a fever, she can’t make it, I am afraid; she was devastated when she called me.”

  “That’s a shame,” Hanna said, a little deflated.

  “I didn’t hear the official brief but I spoke to Nicky this morning and she says it is looking good,” he said, and put his arm around her shoulders in the assumed familiarity between cabin crew.