The Life Of Robert Peterson

by Paul Kelly

  “You’re a bloody good nurse,” he said as he started to rise up, but Freya stopped him, telling him to rest where he was and she would see to anything else that was required and at that moment, Cameron tugged at her skirt and beckoned her towards the kitchen.

  “Freya ... daddy is very ill,” he whispered, “ but sometimes he is worse than others. He was a lot better before he met Sarah, but she shouts and swears at him and I don’t like it. It makes me frightened. He is much better now she is not around. I wish she was dead.”

  Freya took Cameron by the shoulders and started to shake him gently.

  “Cameron ... you must never wish that upon anyone, do you hear. Life is a very sacred and important thing to have for anyone and I’m sure daddy wouldn’t like to hear you say what you did about Sarah.”

  Cameron’s lower lip stood out from his mouth and he appeared to be in a sulk for a moment before he spoke again.

  “Daddy wishes she was dead as well as me,” he muttered and Freya shook him again.

  “Don’t say that. When daddy says things like that, he doesn’t mean them,” she said, but she had reservations herself ... even if they seemed unhealthy ... as she returned with Cameron to the lounge. Robert’s colour had returned to his cheeks and he was sitting up a little, leaning on his elbow.

  “It seems a good thing that I came here when I did,” Freya suggested,”and I think Cameron and I could do with a cuppa. What do you think, Cameron?”

  The little boy agreed with a grin on his face and raced back into the kitchen, calling out as he went,

  “You stay with daddy, Freya and give him a cuddle. I know where everything is to make the tea.”

  Freya had a broad smile on her face as she looked down at Robert.

  “Did you hear what Cameron said,” she asked and Robert nodded.

  “Cameron always gives me a cuddle when he thinks I might be a little unwell, that’s all he means,” he said.

  “Well, I think he’s a bloody good nurse too and I really should do as he tells me.” she replied and with that she knelt down by the side of the sofa and put her arms around Robert’s shoulders.

  “You’re taking advantage. You know that, lady?” Robert said, but he offered no signs of wanting to move away. Ten minutes later and after a nice hot cup of tea, made with the expert hands of Cameron Peterson, Robert rose up from where he was lying and Freya stood aside.

  “I told Freya that you like a cuddle when you aren’t well, daddy.” said Cameron, “Did she do it as well as I do?”

  Robert shoved his fingers through his hair and groaned.

  “Not quite,” he replied, “but she’s learning, I suppose.”

  “But she can always practice daddy. You know what you are always telling me when you teach me the violin. ‘practice makes perfect’ ... Isn’t that right?”

  Robert reached out and touched Freya’s hand.

  “My son is a born philosopher,” he said, “and I do appreciate your concern, but you know how my heart lies by now and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Freya stood up and shrugged her shoulders.

  “I know exactly how your heart dictates and I have no qualms about that, but I would just like to add a little philosophy of my own if you don’t mind.”

  “No objection to that,” replied Robert and Freya looked him straight in the eye.

  “Patience is a virtue,” she said with her head close to Robert’s “and now, if there’s nothing more I can for the moment, I’ll take myself off. It’s time I was at the cafe.”

  Cameron ran to the front door and opened it for her, but as she was about to leave, the little boy stepped in front of her.

  “I’m not feeling very well myself,” he said “And when I’m feeling this way, daddy gives me a cuddle,” and with that, he held out his arms to Freya who didn’t need to interpret his meaning.

  “Love you darling,” she whispered into his ear.

  “And daddy too?” asked the little boy and she nodded enthusiastically.

  An hour later she met Jenny when they exchanged shifts at the cafe, but as she expected ... Jenny didn’t smell of roses.

  “Any change in the war?” she asked but Jenny shook her head as she started to tell Freya of her decisions to have the baby and to forget Sammy Boyle, if she could.

  “I know it’s gonna be hard, Freya, because you know how I feel about him, but I’ll have to try,” she said in a tearful voice and Freya was strongly tempted to tell her what she knew from her tape recording session, however, she thought it better to leave that news until a later date as she had other plans up her sleeve.

  “Try not to worry, Jenny. It’s always darkest before the dawn,” she said and thought again of the ‘philosophy exercises’ she had played out at Robert’s flat.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Freya couldn’t wait to check the voices on her tape recorder as soon as she got back to her flat. She fumbled nervously, pushing the plug into the socket on the wall of her little kitchen and eventually got a peculiar sound coming from the machine, which alarmed her. Her first thoughts were that the tape recorder had failed to pick up any sounds at all, as she couldn’t hear anything that resembled the conversation in Robert’s flat that fateful day when Sarah was throwing her weight about. She pulled the plug from the socket and tried again, but with the same results and she began to

  despair. Could it be a fuse? Could it be that the tape in the recorder was obsolete? ... or was it not more likely that the little machine had past its sell by date? It could be anything, she thought as she started to shake nervously and it was then that she realized just how important this recording was to her ... and to Robert, of course.

  Resolutely, she pulled the plug from the wall and transferred it to another wall socket in her lounge. Within seconds, she could hear a purring sound and then the muffled voice of Robert saying, “I told you I had never ever struck a woman ... but ...”

  At this point Freya pushed the forward button on the recorder until she could hear the shrill voice of Sarah, coming through like something from a ‘chipmonk’ series on the radio ...

  It was there alright. She had the evidence she required and she knew then that the woman who spoke to her from Sammy’s flat the evening before, definitely was the woman she suspected it to be.

  As she unplugged the tape recorder and stuck it in her handbag, she thought about Jenny ... If her friend from the cafe could hear another woman’s voice in Sammy’s flat , then maybe she would reconsider the love she had for this man, but as she was contemplating her next move, the telephone rang and she jumped.

  “Hello, is that you Freya?”

  Freya recognised Jenny’s voice at once.

  “Of course it’s me, who else did you think it was?”

  “Freya, I’m sorry to ring you so early in the morning, but ...”

  Freya looked at her wrist watch.

  “It’s nearly eleven o’clock, Jenny. I wouldn’t call this early, but what can I do for you?”

  “Freya, I think I have had an accident I’ve ...” Freya stared at the telephone as if it would speak back to her and tell her she wasn’t hearing correctly, but Jenny went on. “I’ve had a bleed, Freya and I think I’ve had a miscarriage.”

  Freya stared again at the telephone, sure that she had some hearing defect, but it only took a second for her to realize what had happened and what she had to do about it.

  “Have you got onto the clinic?”

  “Well, no I didn’t need to. About an hour ago one of the midwives came to see me and thank God she did, as I didn’t expect her or anyone from the clinic, but she says everything is O.K. now, but I had an awful lot of pain and ... Freya she‘s gone now, but she‘s coming back again later.”

  “Are you ... Yes, you must be at your flat, Jenny. Stay there and don
’t move. I’ll be round in a jiffy. Bye.”

  She threw an old shawl around her shoulders and made her way to Jenny’s flat with wandering thoughts on her mind. It was sad for Jenny to go through all this torture for such a swine as Sammy Boyle, but on the other hand, this could mean that she could get him out of her life forever. Tell him to fuck off and have as many woman as he wanted, but then Freya remembered that she had never told Jenny about the mystery voice coming from Sammy’s flat when she phoned him that night. It would do no good telling her of that incident now, she thought ... or would it?

  When she arrived at Jenny’s flat, Freya found her friend in tears, but she had a visitor. A lady who was washing her hands in the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” said Freya, “I am a friend of Jenny, Can I ask who you are please?”

  The visitor looked casually at Freya as she continued to wash her hands.

  “Yes, I am Nurse Banfield I am a midwife and I suppose you must be the friend that Jenny was telephoning earlier, yes?”

  “Yes, my name is Freya ... Freya Ford, but what is happening to Jenny?”

  The midwife dried her hands on a towel from the bathroom and sighed heavily as if she had been asked this question so many times before, but she did not answer Freya’s question and she asked again. “Is Jenny alright now? I expect everything has been done for her, now that you are here.”

  The midwife continued to dry her hands and seemed to have avoided Freya’s question.

  “I am asking you a question,” said Freya sharply, as she looked across the room to where Jenny was sitting,” and I would like an answer please?”

  Again the midwife appeared to have heard nothing as she turned to Jenny and put out her hand for Jenny to speak. Freya looked at Jenny in confusion.

  “I’m alright now,” said Jenny as she dried her eyes on her handkerchief. “There is no cause for alarm.”

  Freya grunted her concern as she turned to speak to Jenny.

  “No need for alarm? You phone me and tell me you’ve had an accident ... a suspected miscarriage and now you tell me that everything is O.K. and there is no need for alarm. Jenny, I am your friend. I am worried about you, so please tell me what has happened?”

  The midwife started to put her coat on and moved towards the street door.

  “I’ll leave you now Jenny,” she said calmly as she was leaving and with that, she left the flat without taking any notice of Freya, who was left standing in the drawing room where Jenny was lying.

  “I’ll open these curtains now then, It’s nearly midday and you’re still in the dark. What the hell is going on Jenny? Jenny, I am asking you again, What is going on?”

  Jenny hung her head as she spoke.

  “I think I have lost the baby,” she said, “Well, I’m sure I have. There is nothing left now,”

  “I think I have gathered that, but HOW and WHEN?” demanded Freya sharply and Jenny looked away for a moment before she answered.

  “I think it was from the time when Sammy hit me in the street, the other night. I felt strange when I got home after that, but I had been having strange feelings even before that incident, so I can’t be sure.”

  Freya pushed her hair back from her face.

  “I don’t know what to say, Jenny. If what you think is correct, then Sammy should be arrested for attempted murder,” she snapped, knowing that her explanation was probably a little far fetched, but she was very anxious for her friend and she would put nothing past her ex-husband where women were concerned. He was a bastard alright and was capable of doing anything that interfered with his own equilibrium. His life must go on without interference of any kind. That was the motto for Sammy Boyle.

  “In one sense, I am glad, but I am also very sad for the little one,” said Jenny and before Freya could say another word, Jenny went on. “I saw Sammy with another woman the other night, Freya. He was crawling all over her in the pub next door to the cafe. You know the one, the Century Arms ... well I had to go there to get some more crisps for old Buggerlugs. His stock had run out, you see. I think this ‘tart’ must have been a bar maid as she was very scantily clothed. Hardly how you’d expect an ordinary woman in the street to dress if she was just some other woman, walking around outside the pub”

  “Did you see her face?”

  “Well no ... Not exactly. She was wearing thick make up but who takes much notice of a bar maid?”

  Freya wasn’t at all surprised at what Jenny had told her, but she took her friend’s hand in her own to console her.

  “Was that last Friday, do you remember, Jenny? Would you know her again, if you saw her. . . This bar maid, I mean?”

  Jenny went into one of her reflective moods, but shook her head.

  “Yes, it was last Friday alright, but I wasn’t interested in her face, although she had thick make up on, as I have already said and that’s what made me think she might be a tart, but some bar maids make their faces up heavily too, don’t they?”

  “Try not to worry too much, Jenny. I understand what you mean when you say you could be glad that this has happened. It would have been a very different matter if you had really wanted this baby with a partner that you loved and trusted, but what sort of a life would you have had if things had been different? Do you think now that Sammy would have been ‘attentive’ to you as he said he would be?”

  Jenny smiled and shrugged her shoulders, ignoring Freya’s question.

  “I wish you could have seen the woman he was with Freya. She was a tart ... There is nothing else you could have called her and God knows what sort of disease she might be carrying. I could have been a lot worse off if anything of that nature had happened to me, couldn’t I?”

  Freya stopped still for a moment when Jenny said that to her.

  “Jenny. Did that midwife examine you when she was here?” she asked and Jenny nodded. “Did she tell you that everything was O.K. after she examined you?”

  Jenny looked about her trying to recollect her memory of the situation which she had desperately tried to forget.

  “She was very quiet and I think she realized more than I thought was happening, as she moved into the kitchen quickly and came back with some towels and a wad of cotton wool. That’s all I know.”

  Freya scratched her forehead and sat down on a chair beside Jenny.

  “She surely must have written up some notes?” she enquired and again Jenny nodded, but she didn’t say anything for a few moments.

  “She was more interested in washing her hands,” said Jenny. “I didn’t see any notes, but then I was so worried, she could have done something like that. She was here for quite a little while.”

  “Was she here when you phoned me this morning?” asked Freya and Jenny had to take time to think.

  “No ... Yes she was ... because she made the call for me and then handed me the phone to speak to you.”

  “And how long before that did you call for her help?

  “I didn’t call for help Freya. The midwife came back a little while after that, but as I have said, it was like an act of God as I was in pain and I thought something might have been wrong, even if I didn’t expect this.”

  “And what state were you in then, Jenny. I mean, were you showing signs of bleeding?”

  “No. The bleeding started a little after the midwife came and then within a few minutes, I bled quite a lot. That’s when she went to get the towels”

  “Are you sure you saw no sign of bleeding, before that woman came to the flat, Jenny?”

  “No ... No, I don’t think so. I had a lot of pain, but that was all. Why?”

  “What was her name again? Do you remember?”

  Jenny thought for a few moments again. She knew her mind was rather muddled when the midwife was with her and her brain wasn’t functioning properly.

 
“I think it was Nurse Bar ... something or other. Yes, that’s right ... It was ... It was Banfield, Nurse Banfield, that’s it. I remember now, but why does her name matter?”

  “I don’t think she was very communicative for a midwife. What did you think?”

  “Well, she didn’t say much to me either.” Jenny closed her eyes and looked very tired.

  “And you say you never phoned the clinic for help, yes? What clinic was this Jenny?”

  “It’s the clinic I have been attending ever since I first knew I was pregnant. You know, that one in Stanley Street, quite near the cafe.”

  Freya made a mental note even if she didn’t have a clue where this clinic was, but with the name of the street, she would soon find it.

  “Well, if you are O.K. now, darling, I’ll get off, but are you sure there isn’t anything I can do before I go?”

  Jenny assured Freya that she would be alright, now that she was ‘cleaned up’ as she put it and her troubles were over.

  “I hope all will be well from now on, Jenny, Bye.” Freya knew what she had to do next and also to try to find out where the infamous Sarah was living.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Freya wracked her brains to solve the problem that she had on her mind. The midwife who wouldn’t speak to her, troubled her. After all, there was no crime in what Jenny was going through ... or was there? The more she thought about the midwife’s visit, the more puzzled she became, as she lifted the telephone.

  “Directory enquiries?” she asked as a young, very sweet voice came through on the other end of the line.

  “Yes madam, how can I help you?”

  Freya looked to the ceiling for guidance as she spoke again into the phone.

  “I think I am looking for a needle in a haystack, but I hope you can help,” she said, “I want to find a clinic, possibly an ante natal clinic in Stanley Street and I think it is attached to the Northfield Hospital, but I can‘t be sure” Freya felt sure she was making the right move and that the clinic was indeed attached to the hospital, but she had to be absolutely sure of her facts on this particular occasion.