by Mary Hayward
“You’re the capable one! It’s like you’re the mother and Jane and I are the children.”
I wanted to cry inside. I had been to hell and back all through my life! I thought that by doing everything for my mother, she would love me.
Experience: the hardest lesson in life and I hadn’t learnt it yet.
I closed the door behind her, sat down on the sofa, and sobbed every bit as much as I did when Joyce died. It had all been for nothing. Pouring love into my mother was like catching water in a sieve—futile. She gave me no choice. I had to stop working. I was gutted. Dealing with my mum was like walking through treacle.
The next job I had was part-time. She offered to help look after Lindsay, but it wasn’t long before she let me down.
Mum said she couldn’t babysit because Jane had a cold.
Jane at this time lived in Bromsgrove and was married to Jack. He was a branch manager for Lloyds Insurance. I wouldn’t have minded, but Jane was thirty-years-old, and quite capable of looking after herself.
I didn’t get it. I had helped Mum sort out her new home, get her out of the dump in Edmonton, furnished it and decorated it all for her, and when I thought I could count on her, she let me down again, and again.
39
College: Meeting Mike
THE WORLD HAD CHANGED. It was September 1988 and Word Processing and office computers had become an important feature of modern day work. I needed to develop the skills to enable me to find a better job.
It had been eighteen months since my divorce from Billy, and I lived alone with Lindsay as a single parent. Colin was still living with his grandmother, and I was ready to start life again. I took in a lodger, Fran, an overseas student from China. She spoke excellent English, was very clean and tidy, and I found her a joy to have around the house. She got on well with Lindsay, and at the same time, it helped plug the hole in the finances until I found a job.
This time I had a checklist. Any man had to clear all the ticks on my list before he would get anywhere near me:
No debts or unresolved complications such as maintenance issues, ongoing loans and such;
He should have a nine-to-five job and come home at nights.
He must be intelligent enough to help me plan our future.
Own his own house, or at the very least his own car.
He would have to share a common vision of the future; and finally,
He had to be taller than me!
I wanted an ideal family unit; someone affectionate, to be a good father for Lindsay. Colin was now living with Florrie and fiercely protective of his independence.
Few of the men who took me out to dinner met my checklist. I told them, ‘It was nice meeting you, but I have an agenda and it’s not going to work.’ I felt sorry for Steve, Ian, Alan, and Richard, but if I didn’t hold firm, then I was only letting myself down.
There was just one man who really took my fancy, and that was a good looking chap called Rod. We were introduced by mutual friends and the thing that struck me about him wasthat he didn’t want to drive his expensive car down my street. He was a self made man, started with nothing and the typical rags to riches story. He was tall, good looking; I wasn’t bad myself. He had made his fortune from plumbing; I didn’t understand exactly but believe he made up modules of bathroom kit that reduced the amount of time to install; apparently plumbed together in the factory, and he would spend his time in his workshop making up these standard modules, and selling them to other plumbers as standard configurations. It was very successful and he was making so much money that he didn’t know what to spend it on next. We met a few times and he would take me out to the best restaurants, nothing would be too much trouble. The waiters had red and black waist coats and napkins over their arm. He waited at the dinner table for ages, until I asked why he hadn’t started; he was waiting for me to start. He had private health, and I had NHS. But even those different worlds made no difference to us; I seemed to fit into his lifestyle with ease.
Often there would be a surprise through the post, a bouquet of flowers, a card, a note, something which would brighten my day. We would go out in his Mercedes with the top down, to lovely little cafe’s and pubs all over Hertfordshire and sit by the river endlessly talking about our future together. He had no children himself, having been married and painfully divorced after five years. His wife left him for a factory worker on a housing estate. He never understood why she did that when he had seemingly so much to offer, he kept mentioning it, as if he was still trying to come to terms with it all; an open wound three years later. He didn’t seem to get it – she had been the one putting in all the hard work in the factory, running the sales etc., but it was work all the time. He simply hadn’t given her any attention, and clearly this other chap had time and affection for her. I worried that he wouldn’t have time for me, but money was a big pull. I could buy all the good things for Lindsay, things that I had been unable to afford. I convinced myself that it was really important; my one chance in life that had dropped into my lap: I couldn’t let it pass.
He ticked my checklist, and the thing that had dogged me all my life, money; it was the one thing I needed more than anything else: security. I couldn’t be poor anymore; I just couldn’t do it. I had come through so much.
He took me to his house. If there was one thing about this house that stood out, it was impressive. From the heavy posts on the porch, the big oak doors, and the grand steps sweeping up from the spacious tiled hall. Never have I been in such a luxurious palace. He was anxious to introduce me to his parents, and so we walked through to the back of the house onto a large patio where four leather chairs were placed around a small glass table. It appeared as if I were gazing on to the set of some movie with afternoon tea perched on tiered plates, and I got the impression they were sitting there waiting for me. His mum, a large woman, was really lovely. She was the sort of mum who did everything for her boy to make him happy, whatever it took. Greeting me with such a welcoming smile, I got the impression she was grateful her son had found someone. Perhaps I would have been forgiven for thinking I was about to apply for the job of wife; I wasn’t ready for this. In fact no sooner had I got there, than she was intent on planning a wedding. We chatted for more than an hour on that patio and got on famously, but I noticed her demeanour changed when I told her that I had a five year old daughter living with me. I started to worry; would Lindsay fit in with her plans? Did she expect me to somehow hand Lindsay to Billy? No, no, if that was the plan then she was very much mistaken. Lindsay came with me, and that would be a deal breaker; I had to ask.
Rod had disappeared into the garden, almost as if prearranged with his parents to hold the interview alone.
“You do know that Lindsay has to come with me don’t you? “, I said to him.
“Yes, I know, don’t worry about Mum, she will settle down. I know she’s very over the top, but she just wants me to be happy.”
“You understand that I’m looking for a father for Lindsay, and well - you haven’t had children have you?” I turned to him. I needed to look at his face as I asked the question. I had to be sure that Lindsay wouldn’t suffer.
He turned, looked into my eyes directly, held my hand and stroked my fingers. “Well, just because I haven’t had children doesn’t mean that I can’t be a father. We all have to start somewhere don’t we?” I needed that reassurance for my checklist. Lindsay’s future was important to me more than anything else and if it didn’t work for her, then it wouldn’t work for me no matter how much money he had.
The following day I was seated at my kitchen table planning my future. The world had changed since I was a secretary and I needed to get my skills updated if I was to work for Rod. Hertford Regional College was not far from me, and so I booked myself on a few courses at evening class. I attended a Monday class for City & Guilds 726, Computers & Computing, and Wednesday for Word Processing. I couldn’t afford both classes, and so I had arranged with the college that I would see which one I
preferred, and then drop the other.
I arrived on the Monday evening class at room C41. A wooden bench formed a U-shape around the room. Twenty computers were all connected and switched on. Each had its own metal framed plastic chair facing the screen.
I took a seat, the third chair from the exit door. To my left was a Czechoslovakian woman, Jadranka, a small awkward looking bookworm. With olive skin, shoulder-length dark hair, and her face framed by her spectacles, she appeared intelligent and chatty. For some reason, perhaps I was the first person she spoke to, I didn’t know, but she took an interest in me right from the start.
The lecturer walked into the room, dressed in a smart three-piece pinstriped suit. With his light brown hair and neatly shaped dark beard that hid a cheeky smile, he introduced himself as Mike and proceeded to start the lesson.
Glancing down at my navy skirt, I noticed the torn lining staring back at me through the pleat; it was the only one I had.
As soon as he began leading the class, I noticed something about him. He melted the daunting ‘complexity’ of the course. Frightening and fearful things suddenly dissolved into the familiar and friendly. He made me feel intelligent, and then something happened so unexpectedly that it took my breath away.
Our eyes met, and in that instant I found myself staring too long. Unusually for me, I had to force myself to look away, and then I couldn’t stop the feelings of blood rushing to my face. I coyly looked down to avoid his gaze.
Explaining things with humorous anecdotes, he had all the students laughing. I glanced up again, but as soon as I did so, I found myself repeatedly staring. It was as if I couldn’t avert my gaze. I had already decided he was shorter than me!
At coffee break he would talk to all the students, going round the tables, before getting a coffee for himself. I sat next to Jadranka. She was inquisitive, and in my nervous excitement I talked about myself, revealing that I had a child and that I wanted to get a better job. She asked me how I managed on a very low income, caring for my five-year-old child. I told her it was a struggle: I had to watch every penny that I spent, and that sometimes I lived on bread and Jam.
He settled next to Jadranka. She always sat opposite me. The chair scraped as he moved closer. He put his coffee down and focused his attention towards me.
“What brings you to this course then?” He cupped the coffee in his hands, and smiled.
I ignored the smile. I lowered my gaze to the coffee cup in front of me, and glanced back to Jadranka.
Realising I had told Jadranka many personal things already, I worried that she might have already spoken to him. I flicked my eyes back to my coffee.
“I want to get a better job. The world has changed since I was a secretary.” I looked up at him.
“Are you married?”
I lowered my eyes. Wow, that was direct. I didn’t want to answer. I shot an accusing glance at Jadranka. She gave a lopsided grin.
“No, she isn’t, she’s divorced,” Jadranka volunteered.
I glanced sideways and shifted uncomfortably. It seemed I didn’t need to answer the questions—I had this Czechoslovakian parrot sitting on my table!
He moved his coffee cup closer to me, and spoke.
“So what’s it like being divorced then?” His piercing eyes pricked my bubble.
I felt myself shuffle uncomfortably, but held my focus on him.
“It’s too expensive—you don’t want to go there,” I chanted, lowering my gaze once more.
“So does that mean you’re a single parent?”
A whiff of freshener on his breath caught me off guard, but it didn’t matter, my parrot replied on my behalf.
“Yes, she is, she’s got a five-year-old daughter.”
I flashed a lopsided smile at Jadranka. She grinned back at me and I felt her game.
“So how did you get here tonight then?” he asked.
This man was persistent, and direct. Ouch!
“By taxi.” My manner stiffened.
“Which way do you come, Cheshunt or Hoddesdon?”
Wow! He didn’t give up. Part of me was trying to hide under the table, and yet there was something within that was refreshing about his direct approach. I had seen so many men dither, not knowing what they wanted in life, and here was someone like me. He had me flushed.
“She gets a taxi from Cheshunt; not far,” my parrot answered.
My hair prickled. He glanced sideways at Jadranka.
“Thank you,” he said, before turning his attention back to me.
“Now can you answer this one yourself?” He smiled, turning away to look at Jadranka.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Do you want a lift next week?”
“No,” I snapped, “it’s all right, I’ll get a taxi.” I picked up my handbag, cleared the three paper cups from the table, and dropped them in the waste bin.
Jadranka looked sideways at him, screwed up her face and gave him a toothy smile.
My parrot had done her worst, and I felt annoyed that she had told him so much about me.
At the end of the lesson my taxi didn’t show up and I was left at the college in the dark. I had to walk over the road to the New River Arms, and phone for another taxi from their pay phone.
I went to the Wednesday class for Word Processing. It was taken by an Italian gentleman who stank of body odour. It wasn’t fun, he never got round the class very often, unlike his smell. I never went back.
In contrast, Mike’s class was lively, fun, exciting, and above all, I found myself looking forward to Monday nights.
The next week my taxi didn’t turn up again, and I was half an hour late. It didn’t go unnoticed and the next time he offered, I accepted his lift, and he started to pick me up in his silver Jaguar.
“Do you like my car?” he said.
“As long as it gets from A to B, it’s a car to me.” I wasn’t impressed, Rod had a Mercedes.
The following week as he arrived to pick me up, he chatted to Lindsay on the doorstep. My babysitter Dot was a lovely retired lady who lived nearby. She had just arrived and was sitting in the living room. Preparing to get ready, I eavesdropped on their conversation; what surprised me was how well they got on. There was something about him that was different, I didn’t know what exactly, but there was something I couldn’t explain. My mind was like a magnet; no matter how hard I tried to get him out of my thoughts, he would pop right back into my head.
At the end of the evening, he would drop me off at my home, and I would dash straight out of his car and into the house. I never stopped or acknowledged his gaze. I always rejected him, although the infuriating thing was that he didn’t make any advances anyway! Never at any time did he attempt to touch me. Not even to hold my hand. He just held me in intelligent conversation and caressed me with his words, his humour; anticipating my thoughts most of the time.
As I walked into the house, Fran was in the kitchen washing her dinner plate, and made coffee for me. She offered me the coffee, but I put my head in my hands.
“Oh, dear, what am I going to do?” I asked.
“What’s the matter with you?” She looked worried.
“Well, this lecturer taking this class has given me a lift again. He’s so nice.”
“Ahmm,” she smiled, “so, what’s wrong with that?”
“I try not to tell him anything... I don’t know, I don’t know!”
“Don’t know what, Mary?”
“Jadranka keeps telling him things about me.”
“Well, if he’s nice, what’s the problem?”
“I don’t want to wash socks anymore!”
Fran cupped her face with her hands and shook with laughter. I wasn’t sure why—I didn’t see the humour.
“I really like you Mary,” she was still giggling. “You’re funny.”
“Yes Fran, we get on, don’t we?” I said. “I hope you stay a while.”
In all thirteen weeks of the autumn term I never invited Mike in for a coffee; i
t was purely a lift and that was all. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about him. He ticked a lot of my boxes, but not all. He believed in saving up and paying for things outright; he owned his own home, his own car, and didn’t have any loans apart from a mortgage. But he was still an inch shorter than me, and that bothered me. Both Terry and Billy were over six foot tall, but still I was dazzled by his foresight and his positive grasp on life. Height started to become unimportant because he showed that he didn’t need it. But I kept thinking of Rod. My life promised to be going in the right direction. With Rod I had the prospect of a luxury lifestyle, never want for money for the rest of my life, how could I not want that? Yet something inside of me kept holding off. Each time we met, Rod would pressure me to move in with him, work in his business and share his success. It was all very tempting, but....was it what I really wanted. My frantic mind battled with sleepless nights, fretting, tossing to and fro and banging my head on my pillow.
During one of Mike’s lecturer’s he spoke about the difference between ‘what we need’ and ‘what we want’. ‘Someone might want an Apple computer because they like the look of the styling, but it might not be what they need since it might not run the right software’.
I stopped in my tracks. Was he right? It made me think about the difference between what I wanted and what I needed. I needed love, affection, and someone who would route for me, be there come what may, be a dad for Lindsay and guide me through life; two horses in harness. What I wanted was a man six foot tall with wealth and security; I started to question - was that really what I needed?
I skipped a class. I had a bad migraine, and naturally Mike came to the house. Lindsay had to tell him I was in bed. He left his phone number to save wasted journeys.
The very last week of term I again had a migraine and couldn’t attend class. I rang him. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I will drop a work book round on Wednesday afternoon, so that you can read up on what you’ve missed. Take the test the following term.” I agreed and left it at that.
