The Fleeting Years

by Connie Monk

  Six

  At Newton House Peter had decided that this morning they would attack the attic rooms where it had been all too easy to accumulate things which might just as well have been dispensed with right from the start. In such a large house, and especially after the first year or so of marriage when Peter and Zina had had to learn the lesson of thrift, they had often fallen for the temptation of dumping anything ‘that might come in handy one day’ at the top of the house.

  ‘Come on, kids, there’s work to be done,’ he said as he stood up from the breakfast table. ‘I’ve got a whole lot of bin liners.’

  ‘I’ll come up and say goodbye before I head off to Derek’s, but first I’ll just give Mum a call,’ Zina told them, but the twins were already halfway up the stairs, sure that there must be interesting treasures to be discovered. Zina smiled as she watched Peter follow after them, a roll of bin liners in his hand; this sorting out bug seemed to have bitten him. And yet she knew without a doubt that he had always loved the house as much as she had herself. However, today she wouldn’t think about the house or the move, for the quintet had arranged to meet at midday in Derek Masters’ apartment near Bristol to discuss programmes for forthcoming recitals.

  Hardly had the excited chatter of the others faded, as they shut themselves behind the door at the top of the attic stairs, when the telephone rang.

  ‘Zina? It’s me,’ came Jenny’s familiar greeting, but there was something in her tone that alerted Zina. Something must be wrong.

  ‘What’s up, Mum?’

  ‘Nothing. Everything is fine. But Zina I need to talk to you. Not on the phone. Will you have time to slip in here for a few minutes on your way to Derek’s?’

  ‘Of course. Are you sure you’re all right? Your voice sounds different. It must be the line. The others are sorting the attic rooms and I’m not getting involved. So I can be with you in about twenty minutes. Get some coffee on. You’re quite sure everything’s OK?’

  ‘Of course. I just wanted to make certain you would have time to drop in for a second before going on.’

  Whatever Zina imagined her mother wanted to talk about, came nowhere near what she heard as Jenny poured their coffee.

  ‘This morning you will see Derek at rehearsal, that’s why I wanted to be sure to talk to you first.’

  ‘Why, what’s wrong, Mum? Have you seen the folly of your ways?’ She said it teasingly, somehow trying to steer them back into the easy relationship which until these summer months had always existed between them.

  ‘Quite the reverse. Zina, I dare say you look on me as over the hill, beyond all the love business. I know that’s how I would have viewed my own mother when she was the age I am. But the more years you live the more you come to understand.’

  ‘But … but what’s this got to do with anything?’

  ‘It has everything to do with what I want you to understand. You know Derek was here yesterday because he drove Tommy home. And what wonderful news the boy had brought! Bless him, I’ve never seen him so confident. You’ll leave him here? You won’t make him throw his chances away and go with you? This can be his home whenever he is free and you should have seen him yesterday playing a duet with Derek. He looked ready to burst with pride.’

  ‘Of course he’ll take his place at music school, Mum. And thanks, I knew he could look on this as a base. As for Derek Masters – how can you want to encourage him here?’

  ‘Why do you dislike him so much? Just tell me one thing you find wrong with him.’

  ‘Just one?’ Zina said with as laugh, then taking a sip of coffee, ‘Nice coffee, Mum. Until he started hanging around you, although I’d worked with him for nearly three years, I neither liked nor disliked him. I didn’t know him, and neither does anyone else in the quintet. He treats us all the same, instruments to bring life to the music. And that’s the way I’m happy to leave it. How can you spend so much time with him, Mum? The man’s a bore, a bore who brings magic out of a piano.’

  It was hard to read Jenny’s expression, indeed neither face nor manner gave anything away as she said, speaking very calmly, ‘Your opinion only shows how little you know. Yes, he brings magic from a piano, and he has brought magic back into my life, and I truly believe that I have to his. That’s what I wanted to tell you. Derek and I will be together for the rest of our lives.’

  ‘But you can’t do that! I know you must have been lonely, lonely for Dad. If you were telling me that you had decided to marry again to someone else, perhaps someone you have known here in the village for years, someone who has been your friend, that I could understand. But you’ve known Derek Masters no time at all. Three months? Probably not even that. I can see he would have found you attractive, you’re still nice looking and I think mixing so much with us, with the children, has kept you young for your age. Oh, for goodness’ sake, Mum, didn’t I warn you right from the first that you were letting him see you were over the moon having a man talking to you and listening to what you say.’ She looked at Jenny, but there was no sign that her words had got home. ‘Tell you what, Mum,’ she said, trying to move the subject away from dangerous ground, ‘you just think again about coming to America with us. You mustn’t feel tied here because of Tom; there will be plenty of overseas students at the music school so there must be arrangements for those who have nowhere to go for short breaks. Tom will be fine. I always thought you were contented enough here, perhaps I ought to have seen below the surface better.’

  ‘Of course I shall miss all of you, but even before I knew Derek felt the same way as I do, I couldn’t pull up my roots and go to America.’ Then with a chuckle that came to her unexpectedly, she added, ‘A bit like suggesting that an old woman from the wild and woolly west or even the glitz of Hollywood could make a new life in dear peaceful Myddlesham. Perhaps I imagine it all quite wrongly, but I don’t think I could ever fit into a world so bright and shiny, so blatantly modern and artificial.’

  ‘Perhaps it won’t be, perhaps that’s just the rubbish they dig up to sound sensational,’ Zina answered, not letting herself acknowledge that her own instinct was much the same as her mother’s. ‘Anyway,’ she added with a note of defiance in her voice, ‘one doesn’t have to be influenced by it. I certainly don’t intend to be, and over the years nothing has ever changed Peter, so I don’t think Hollywood is going to. Stability comes from your home and the love of the family around you.’

  ‘Indeed it does. And so I shall stay here, but not alone. You must watch the time, don’t get late for rehearsal.’

  ‘You don’t need to kick me out for a bit. Mum, isn’t there anything I can say to make you see? All right, I don’t understand what you can possibly find to fall in love with in Derek Masters except the music he makes. Perhaps I might learn to know him better if I were still to be around, but I shall soon be following Peter, so that isn’t going to happen. But for you to talk of marrying a man you’ve only known for a few summer weeks is – well, it’s asking for trouble, for both of you.’

  The next thing was the stumbling block Jenny had been dreading.

  ‘I wasn’t talking of marriage. There can be no marriage. He has a wife.’ For once Zina was lost for an answer and so Jenny went on to tell her the whole story.

  ‘If he is honestly serious about you, Mum, if his wife is certified insane he has grounds for divorce and he must know it, even if he pretends he doesn’t. Why don’t you tell him you’ll marry him once he is free; that would give you time to be sure of what you were doing.’

  ‘No!’ Jenny almost shouted the one word.

  ‘But why? There would be no problem. Or does he hang on to being married so that he can escape the noose?’

  ‘Oh Zina, did we bring you up to have so little heart, so little understanding or care for other people? Would you have that poor woman stripped of the only dignity she has left to her? There was a time when she was Derek’s whole world. He has had to build a life without her, but to divorce her for something done to her by nature would l
eave a stain. Surely you can see? We can’t do that to her even though she lives in a world of her own and would never know.’

  ‘I may not have the understanding to see that, but I can understand only too well what it will do to you to be seen as living with a man who isn’t your husband. Why it’s almost an insult to marriage, to Dad.’

  ‘Never!’ Then glancing at her watch, she added, ‘You ought to be on the road. I’m glad I’ve told you. Just one thing I ask, I beg, Zina. If you talk about it to Derek, be kind. Don’t hurt him. To hurt him is to hurt me. Can’t you wish us well, even if you think we are heading for disaster?’

  Zina stood up to leave, then hugged her mother. ‘I do wish you well, of course I do. I’ve hated to think that I shall go away and you’ll be alone and lonely. But I can’t see that a life with a dry stick like Derek Masters is the answer. Think of Dad, remember the fun everything was if he was there. Don’t rush, Mum.’

  ‘I do think of him, I always will. The me that was his will always be his. But do you think he would want me to be miserable for the rest of my life? If you do, you belittle him. Anyway it’s too late for words of advice. Derek was with me last night and after your meeting today he will come back here. This is his home now.’

  ‘Think, think, Mum. Are you ready for the gossip, the slights you will endure from some of the narrow-minded variety – and every village has them? One night is different from a lifetime.’

  ‘Off you go,’ Jenny said, managing to instil affection into her tone. ‘Drive carefully and keep your mind on the road.’

  It was as she heard the car move away that she let her thoughts go back to Zina’s parting shot. One night, she had said, as if it had been a few hours isolated from the rest of their lives. But then Zina hadn’t been witness to their solemn and holy vows spoken under the stars.

  In front of the twins Zina said nothing of what she believed to be her mother’s mistaken way of running away from loneliness. It wasn’t until she and Peter were in bed that she told him.

  ‘You’ve worked with him for some time, what have you got against him?’

  ‘Working with him is one thing; he is a brilliant pianist.’ She had expected Peter’s support and he could hear the pout in her voice. ‘But he’s dull. The rest of us in the quintet are all friends, mates, but he never joins in, he never relaxes.’

  ‘So? He clearly does with your mother. Nobody can choose the right partner for someone else – and thank God for it, because if they could I should never have got beyond Mother-in-law’s front door.’

  ‘Stupid. Of course she is fond of you.’

  ‘After all this time she knows I’m here to stay, and she’s learnt to make the best of it,’ he said, with a laugh only just below the surface. ‘Her opinion was never important to us any more than yours will be to her about her choice of a hus— of a life partner. Go with the flow, Zina, my love, if you don’t, you may find yourself to be the loser.’ Then with a chuckle she could tell held affection, ‘I bet when I asked your parents for your hand in matrimony that will have been pretty much the advice your father gave to her. There are only two people who really know whether the magic is there for them, and that’s the couple themselves. Wriggle closer, I need a cuddle.’

  Willingly she wriggled. But much later she lay awake remembering what he had said, even though she still couldn’t see what her kindly, pretty, fun-loving mother could find in dreary Derek Masters. She would have been surprised – and, from the viewpoint of a daughter, probably shocked or even disgusted – if she could have looked in on the couple. While Derek shaved, Jenny was lying in a bath of scented bubbly delight, moving further towards the taps, the end she was facing, so that when he shed the remainder of his clothes he climbed in behind and drew her to lean back against him.

  When Peter was at home the days always seemed to melt, but never as quickly as this time when the date of his departure loomed ever closer. It was two days before he and Fiona were to leave when, saying nothing to Zina, he disappeared in his car. He didn’t analyse his motives as he drove, but he knew that he wanted the parting between himself and Jenny to be without shadows. And subconsciously there was the thought that if he went away and left any bad feeling because of her relationship with Derek, then it would only make Zina’s life harder.

  Arriving he saw that Derek’s car was in the drive so he left his in the lane and walked round to the back of the house.

  ‘Morning Mother-in-law, may I come in?’ he called as he opened the back door about two inches.

  ‘Of course you may.’ Her voice came from the open window of the upstairs landing. ‘I’m just coming down. You’ll find Derek in the drawing room.’ Almost as she finished speaking she started down the stairs. Perhaps she was frightened Peter might have come in less than friendship. ‘Are you on your own?’

  ‘Yes. I’m keeping Zina busy making sure everything is packed. Fiona is much too excited to concentrate on anything as mundane. I wanted to see you and Derek, if I may dispense with formalities, and my time is running short now. I came early in case you were off out.’ Then going into the drawing room, he held his hand towards Derek, liking what he saw. From the firm grip of the handshake and the direct way this lover of Jenny’s held his gaze, he decided she had made a good decision.

  ‘I couldn’t disappear to the States without meeting you.’ Then with a quick smile that had won hearts both sides of the Atlantic, he added, ‘I had to know that Mother-in-law was in good hands. We wanted her to come with us, you know.’ Then, turning the smile on Jenny, he said, ‘Now I can understand why you weren’t to be persuaded.’

  The atmosphere relaxed and Peter was actually sorry that he would probably never have the opportunity to get to know Derek well. But, he had come with half an idea in his head, and now he followed it through.

  ‘Are you two free this evening? Tomorrow is my last day and I don’t want to have to do anything except be at home with Zina and the kids, but if you can manage this evening I’d like to book us a table somewhere in Deremouth – a sort of celebration with all of us together. It’ll be on the early side because of the youngsters. What do you say?’

  ‘Does Zina know?’ Jenny sounded almost timid, something quite out of character.

  ‘Not yet, Mother-in-law. But she will as soon as I get home and she will be delighted, that I can promise you.’ He held her gaze as he said it and they both read each other’s thoughts. Yes, she could trust him to persuade Zina. There was so little time before they would all be gone, and as things were between Zina and her at the moment she could see no way of their being as close as they used to be. The memory of their last encounter was constantly at the back of her mind. In that moment she forgot how often Peter annoyed her and felt genuine warm gratitude.

  ‘Thank you, Peter. We’d love to come.’

  ‘We’ll pick you up at, say, just before seven? We can squeeze Fiona into the front with us, she doesn’t take up much room and the back seats three quite comfortably. More fun if we all travel together.’ And that last sentence set the scene.

  Despite Zina being less than keen on the idea of including Derek Masters in their last evening out together, Peter’s power of persuasion worked wonders. She managed a welcoming smile she was far from feeling as they settled into the car, but how could they have what Peter described as an evening of fun when Derek Masters didn’t know the meaning of the word? She had always found him easy to work with and she never let herself forget that it was through him she had joined the quintet, but she had no idea what went on in his mind. He never joined in the general conversation between the others; they never really expected him to. He was a different gener-ation from the rest of them. So it was a sobering thought to have him part of their last family outing. How different it would have been if her father had been with them still. And look at Mum, she scoffed silently, as starry eyed as a sixteen-year-old instead of a grandmother.

  That was as they took their seats at the reserved table in Deremouth’s Imperial Hotel
. As the evening progressed she saw another side to Derek’s character. He could never be an excitable, animated man, but his conversation was interesting. And what came nearer than anything to endearing him to her was his obvious interest in Tom. He gave the boy his full attention and drew him to talk, sharing views with him in a man-to-man way. If anything could take away the worry she had tried to hide about leaving Tom when she followed the others to their new life, it was watching Derek with him.

  Peter ordered champagne, not one bottle but two (quite oblivious of Jenny’s irritation that ‘he always has to go over the top, one would have been more than enough with wine for the meal, but he’s like an excited child’). And perhaps she wasn’t so far from the truth, for tonight he looked with pride on them all, his precious Zina, their children, both acquitting themselves so well, Mother-in-law looking prettier than many a woman half her age and Derek Masters, a man so different from the picture he had built in his mind of the originator of that quintet which took so much of Zina’s time and interest. Tonight looking around the table he felt a moment of regret that this would be the only time they would all be together before their lives changed. When the first bottle of champagne was uncorked and poured he proposed a toast to Jenny and Derek, welcoming him into the family. Fiona took a gulp rather than a sip and the bubbles got up her nose and made her sneeze just when she was fancying herself as entering a world of sophistication.

  Then it was Derek’s turn. ‘And may I ask Jenny and Tom to join me in a toast to this wonderful new step in your career, Peter, and happiness for all of you in your new surroundings.’ As he finished speaking he held his glass to clink it against Tom’s, his action seeming perfectly natural and giving no hint that he understood exactly how forlorn the boy suddenly felt.

  ‘And now it’s my turn,’ Zina said as they put their glasses back on the table, ‘this time I want us to drink to Tom, setting out on the first important stage of what I’m sure will be a career to bring him success and, even more important, fulfilment.’