by Paul Kelly
Emily held the telephone in her hand for a few moments before I heard her speak very softly to me, “Leave things as they are. Will talk later... ” and from the silence that followed I guessed there must be something seriously wrong, but suddenly the phone went dead and I sat in silence, not knowing what else to do but wait for Emily to get in touch again, but she didn’t and I presumed that I had better sit still and get on with what I had to do, knowing Emily and knowing that she would get on to me again if she felt it was necessary, nevertheless I drove home at lunch time and Assim had gone back to the hospital to get in touch himself with Umar, but a second letter was waiting for him on his return to the hospital and he told us that the matter seemed to be resolved and he would come and see us again that evening, but as he had three operations starting at four o clock in the afternoon, it would probably be late and if that was unsuitable, he wanted us to contact him and let him know, but it wasn’t unsuitable... we would have waited up all night if necessary for Assim.
He did come and it was just past midnight, but the news was good and he quoted what he had read in the second letter. It was from his mother.
“Darling Assim,” he read and I could see him swallow hard, “Darling Assim, I know that Umar has sent you a letter telling you just how ill I am and how I have to be taken by ambulance in emergency to the hospital, but darling, he exaggerates. Yes, I have had a minor stroke, but this is not the first one I have had and none of them are serious. They are just like having to breathe gently and then everything is fine. I am going to Lourdes with Charlotte this weekend and I have had flowers and chocolates from Alfie. He is such a good boy and I am learning to love him like he was my own son. Please tell Emily and Felix how wonderful Alfie has been and apologies again to Gerard for the literal bastard I have been in misunderstanding his pure and loving feelings for you. My love to you all,” The letter was signed Mum and Assim sighed heavily as he put it into his pocket and put his arms around Emily who was breaking her heart with joy.
Assim slept in Alfie’s old bed that night and returned to the hospital later the following day after he had made a visit to Gerard at his surgery.
For the next week, everything went well and all the fears of illness in Paris had gone, but very sadly, we had a letter from Freddie to tell us that although Georgia and he were overjoyed at the birth of a little boy whom they named Adam, they had been told by the hospital doctor that the little boy was born with cerebral palsy and Emily flew out of the house when she heard the news to go and see her brother for herself. Shindigger barked savagely as she went, but he was a good boy and was used to being alone in the house when we had to go away for anything as he knew we would be back to love him again soon.
When Emily got to Freddie’s place she broke her heart again and cuddled little Adam as Georgia made her a coffee. I got all this news that evening when I got home from the office, as Milly had taken all the calls that came in for me when I was otherwise engaged. Little Adam had to receive regular treatment at the hospital from then on, and Georgie kept us informed of his progress, but there were incidents in the little boy’s life that would never improve or change and Freddie and his lovely wife had to endure these changes in their love for the child, not just for a day or even a year, but for all time, it would seem.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sylvie wrote regularly to us and also sent us mail through the computer which we found to be a great consolation, but as with all children, you have to accept the joys and the sadness that goes with their lives as they develop into manhood or womanhood and one of the sadness facts that we had to accept, although trivial in itself I suppose was that Sylvie had failed her first examination at the ballet class and that she was being, what she described as bullied by one of her teachers.
We thought it best for one of us to go down to London and I tried to console Sylvie on the telephone but when I suggested that one of us would come down to see her, she wouldn’t agree as she was adamant that we should not see this teacher who was causing all the trouble, but I felt that we had to see this person... presumably a woman teacher, but it could well have been a man and I tried to force this meeting on Sylvie, but she was adamant and in the end, after many tears, she agreed to come to see US at the weekend when she was free from classes.
I told her I would meet her at the railway station in Glashow and I had seen the times the trains came in so everything was arranged and then Sylvie asked me to hold on and the telephone went dead for a few seconds before she came back to talk to me again.
“Dad, I will be coming into Glasgow central at eleven forty, platform five and Celia is coming with me as she also lives in Glasgow.”
“Sylvie, is this Celia the person who you say is bullying you?” I asked and Sylvie quickly replied back, “No Dad, Celia is my friend. Her name is Celia Wentworth. She is two years my senior and we are in the same dance class. See you, Bye.”
That meeting wouldn’t wait for Emily and she went about the house rubbing her hands together and looking like a wet week, but a little consolation came from Shindigger as he seemed to know what Emily was going through as he whined softly into her lap when she sat down until she picked him up and then he went all silent as he kissed her all over her face.
“I hate to think of Sylvie being bullied and her living so far away in London too.” said Emily and I told her that at least she had a friend who was coming up to Glasgow with her and that she also lived in Glasgow, so it would be nice for her to have company on the train coming up. Celia is her friend’s name and she lives in Glasgow also.
Two minutes later there was another telephone call and it was Sylvie again.
“Plan abandoned,” she announced very clearly, “Don’t come to the station. Celia’s father owns a taxi rank business and he is going to drive Celia and I home to Glasgow. He will bring me home to 97 Mansfield Road before he takes Celia home. Bye,” As the phone went down I stared at Emily.
“How the hell did Sylvie get a bloody phone?” I asked and Emily replied as she went into the kitchen followed by the faithful Shindigger who sniffed eagerly in the event that there might be something in his bowl for him to eat.
“Freddie bought it for her before she went off to London.”
Our wait was uneventful as we could think of nothing to do until Sylvie came home, but Emily checked her room to see that everything was alright and that Shindigger hadn’t been lying in Sylvie’s bed as we knew he liked Sylvie and he would always wanted to be near her.
It took Barney Wentworth six hours to drive from London and as he came in through our front door, he swore the time was because of a traffic delay and he could have been here much earlier if perhaps he had chosen a different way to drive up through England and into Scotland, but he welcomed a beer and sat down happily on our settee whilst Shindigger made him feel very welcome by planting himself on Barney’s knee. Celia was a lovely young woman and Emily thought she might just be a couple of years older than Sylvie, but as she herself had a dog at home and they lived not far from Mansfield Road, she made a great fuss of Shindigger and he made an even greater fuss of her.
Barney sipped his beer and from the look on his face I felt he could well do with another one and he did as he started to talk about the ballet school in London and when Emily asked him how long he would be staying in Glasgow until he returned to the London School, he shook his head violently.
“My daughter’s not going back to that bloody place,” he replied and I could see Emily looking at Celia to see what her reaction would be to her father’s decision but to both of our surprise, Celia nodded her approval and wished she had never ever gone to the place, but I could see Sylvie looking very uncertain of what had been said and then Celia continued, “It was O.K. until old pussyfoot Rutherford had her way and then everything went sour. Didn’t it Sylvie?” she asked but I could see my daughter looking very shy as if she was unable to add to the comment
s that Celia and her father had said and then Celia started to laugh. “I’m gonna miss Jason. That’s for sure,” she added and although Sylvie said nothing, I could see her blush and I was anxious to know who this Jason could be, but I dropped the subject for that moment as I asked Barney what he was going to do now that young Celia would have to end her career as a ballet dancer, but he sniffed and continued to drink his beer.
“She aint gonna give that dancin’ up,” he snapped, “She’s a purfessional, is that one. Aint yuh darlin’... he went on and Emily looked rather anxious as she asked Barney what Celia would do if she wanted to continue with her dancing and it was Celia who broke in on this conversation. Celia the ‘purfessional’ “Oh, I’m Alright,” she said, “Dad has arranged for me to continue my course at Edinburgh and that’s not so far away. They have agreed to accept me as I have finished my first two years of the course in London”
This comment made Emily start and she sat up with anger in her eyes as she stared at Sylvie and asked her what she wanted to do when she went back to London, assuming that was what Sylvie wanted to do, but she got a reply that made her sit up.
“I don’t want to go back to London,” she said softly and I could see that her eyes were full of tears. “I don’t want to continue dancing and anyway, I have only done eighteen months of the course so I have lost very little.”
I could see Barney smiling to himself as probably the beer had taken effect b this time.
“Sylvie is a lovely little girl,” he commented, “but she aint the purfessional what my Celia is an I don’t fink she would go far in the dancing lark anyways,”
As Barney made this remark, I watched Celia’s reaction to see if she would show any signs that perhaps Sylvie was indeed a good dancer, but she shrugged her shoulders as she looked at Sylvie.
“I’m gonna miss you Sylvie. We’ve had some good times together and I’m sure gonna miss Jason, aren’t you?... but then you’ll be able to see more of him yourself when you go back to London, won’t you... but I’d watch that old Rutherford dame... She’s a right pain in the arse and she should be in prison for some of the things she has done. , , Did I ever tell you about the time she told me I was dancing too vigorously and that if I went on doing that, I would have legs like a bloody rhinoceros... That was before she took me to her office and told me to remove my tutu so that she could massage my arse”
I could see Sylvie blush as she lowered her head but she made no comments about her return to London and Emily asked who Jason was, but it was Celia who replied.
“Jason... oh he’s the high spotlight in the ballet class, ain’t he Sylvie... Jason can have his pick of any of the girls down there in London and some of them come from Italy and abroad. He’s only nineteen years of age, but wow when he dances in his tights, he’s every inch a man, isn’t he Sylvie?”
“Shut your bloody row,” shouted Barney, “an keep yer fuckin’ pinion to yerself Madam.”
By this time I was sure that Barney was not used to drinking a few pints of beer and I suggested that he and Celia should go home, but before they went, I asked him why he had chosen London in the first place for his daughter’s career, since she was such a ‘pufessional’or not and he said that everyone thought the only place for ballet training was in London, but now that he had problems with the place he had learned that there were Ballet Schools of training in Edinburgh and even Aberdeen and he got into his car and drove off, leaving his address with Emily, but I felt sure that he did leave his business card in the interest of a ballet school but more in the interests of his Taxi driving service which I am sure he would have told you that his service in the training of people to drive was very ‘purfessional’ indeed. None better, but he left Emily in a bad way as she was more than anxious to know how Sylvie felt about going back to the ballet school and to know more about this young buck, Jason...
“Jason is the lead dancer in the ballet down there,” replied Sylvie, “He has to dance with a girl every time Miss Rutherford puts on a show... but It doesn’t matter to me now as I don’t want to go on dancing and I don’t want to go back to London,” I immediately felt that Sylvie had been hurt at the remarks made innocently or not about the beer drinking Barney and his daughter, but I was more interested to learn more about this dancing instructress Rutherford. Where did she come into the picture and what was her real interest in Celia’s immature dancing when all she needed was a massaged arse?
Before we went to bed that evening, Emily touched on the subject of Miss Rutherford, but Sylvie did not want to talk about this until I insisted that she should after what we had heard from Celia and with difficulty in her voice, Sylvie told us that the real reason she wanted to stop dancing was indeed because of this Rutherford woman and when Emily asked her why, she hesitated again and lowered her head.
“Do you remember what Celia said about how Miss Rutherford had remarked to her legs looking like those of a rhinoceros?”
Both Emily and I laughed, but as Sylvie went on, we both became very angry and more sure that Sylvie should never return to London, but where would she go.
Sylvie’s reason for not going back to London was for the same reason as Celia had said, except that her legs were never referred to as those of a rhinoceros. Sylvie’s legs were beautiful according to Miss Rutherford even if she felt that even Sylvie’s arse needed a massage.
I phoned Barney Wentworth immediately Sylvie told us of her event concerning Miss Rutherford even if it was nearly one o clock in the morning and I asked him if he could give me the address of the Ballet School in Edinburgh and disgruntled though he was, he obliged and I told Sylvie that she should never go back to London but that as she was a graceful and talented dancer, she should continue with her training course until it was fulfilled in the three years required She had already done eighteen months of that training and I felt sure that she would be accepted in Edinburgh, but for some reason she still did not want to leave the London School and when I queried her before I could get on to the school in Edinburgh to find out if they would accept her there, she thought it would be too much trouble for me to make any change in the circumstances an she felt she had caused enough problems with telling us about the Rutherford affair, but insisted, knowing that there was nothing I could do until the following week as I didn’t think any college or school would deal with anything at the weekend, so I decided to let things lie until the following Monday and then again I would query if Sylvie did or did not want to leave the college in London, before I got onto Edinburgh, but Emily was sure that Sylvie would go to Edinburgh, even if she had some idea in her head which she would not discuss with me as to why our daughter did not want to leave London and I didn’t think the Rutherford woman had anything to do with that... but as always I let Emily have her own way.
I waited until the Monday morning before I telephoned the number that Barney had given me and after quite some time a lady answered and I asked her if I could speak to the person in charge where I wanted to know how a young dancer could come to the college for ballet training and she put me through to another person, a man this time who wanted to know if the person I wanted to take up ballet dancing was a boy or a girl... and when I told him it was a girl, he asked me about twenty other questions which made me wonder what the hell I was being asked to do,... Was I going into a hospital for treatment or into a school to learn how to dance... or getting into goal, but at last he said I could only get the girl to come in if she was a trained dancer even if she knew nothing about ballet and when I told him that the girl in question had experienced eighteen months of basic training in ballet he asked me why the hell I didn’t tell him that in the first place... In time, I got an answer... of a kind.. Where had the young girl had her training and why did she give it up after wasting eighteen months of her life and in which training school had she been attending and had she been asked to leave for any reason.
When I told them the full s
tory as far as I was able omitting to say that old Rutherford was an arseole and was more intent in massaging a young arse, I wondered if he would get in touch with the old sod for a reference. Everything seemed impossible and yet it seemed that Celia had got into the school at Edinburgh and then I remembered that there was also a school at Aberdeen. Had I been on to the wrong school, I thought but then as I had given all the information I could, I just couldn’t start All over again and I banged the phone down which made Shindigger jump.
Three days later we got a letter from the Edinburgh college to say that they had a suitable reference from London to say that Sylvie could come to the Edinburgh school of ballet, but what surprised both Emily and I... and Sylvie for that matter was the fact that the letter was signed by A.H. Rutherford with a glowing report for Sylvie to say that Sylvie was an excellent dancer and would have stayed on at the school in London, but that her parents lived in Glasgow and she got ‘HOMESICK’...
Sylvie went off to Edinburg on the following Monday to continue her training in ballet, but the following Monday a letter arrived at our house addressed to Sylvie and immediately Emily suspected it could be some sort of vengeance from old Rutherford as we felt sure that no-one else in the London college could have known our address but we left the letter on Alfie’s bed until Sylvie came home again to see us which she did regularly at weekends. I was in two minds to tear the bloody thing up, or read it myself, but Emily, being again the woman she was suggested we should leave it until Sylvie came home and let her do what she wanted to do with the letter. After all it was addressed to her and not to us, so we left it on the bed and waited until Sylvie came home again, hoping that Shindigger might discover it and tear it up and then we would not feel so worried... we would simply forget it, but Shindigger was a good boy. He saw the letter and he sniffed the letter, but then he went to sleep... on the letter.
