by Stan Mason
’He’s not too good,’ revealed the doctor with no expression on his face. ’He suffered a severe heart attack and we’ll need to operate on him tomorrow.’
’Will he recover?’ She felt extremely sad at the thought of her husband undergoing a major operation.
‘It’s far more complicated than that,’ the doctor informed her. ‘He has about a thirty per cent chance of survival. I don’t think he should have any more visitors today.’
Diana sat in the hospital cafeteria sipping a cup of coffee. She still didn’t like the man per se, even though he was her husband, but he was someone with whom she had lived with in the past and they had brought up two children together. There was a lot in that to say the least. Yet other problems began to form in her mind. First of all, Charles would need a place to stay. He couldn’t live alone in his apartment. He would have to come and live with her. She wasn’t too pleased about that. If he did stay in his apartment and had another attack there would be no one to help him. Secondly, if he lived with her, he would need a nurse to take care of him on a full-time basis. It was all so inconvenient yet she felt helplessly bound. The problem spun around in her head making her more annoyed as she thought about it. After all those years of separation, she didn’t really want him interfering in her life in that way.
She went home and returned to the hospital the following day. Templeton was undergoing surgery while she waited and two hour later the surgeon emerged from the operating theatre. He saw Diana sitting on a seat outside and approached her.
‘Mrs. Templeton,’ he said, placing his hands in his pockets. ‘I recognise you from your photograph in the newspapers.’
‘How’s my husband?’ she asked with hope in her heart. ‘Was the operation successful?’
The doctor moved his head from side to side as if unsure. ‘In a way,’ he informed her uncertainly. ‘Clinically the operation was successful but I’m not sure he has enough strength to pull through. We shall have to wait and see. In the meantime, they’ll take him to the Recovery Room. You can see him there.’
She thank ed him and made her way along the corridor. The doctor didn’t give her husband much chance of survival but he had come through the operation even though the doctor had told he that he had only a thirty per cent chance. Templeton was shortly wheeled into the Recovery Room and they connected him up to the electronic machine behind the bed. He seemed to be wide awake but at first he didn’t seem to recognise her.
‘I’m dying, Diana,’ he managed to say weakly. ‘They probably think the operation was successful but I can feel myself slipping away.’
‘Don’t be so melodramatic, Charles!’ she challenged boldly. ‘The operation was a complete success. The surgeon just told me so.’
As her words faded into the distance the bleeper on the electronic machine sounded loudly and the image on the screen flat-lined heralding his death
. Diana raced out of the room to find a doctor but it was all far too late. Despite all his efforts to revive him, Templeton had passed away. Five minutes after his death, Robbie and Karen arrived. They had no idea of the severity of their father’s condition and were devastated to hear the news. They hugged their tearful mother and then asked to look at the body of their father. They entered the Recovery Room to stare at the corpse and tears flowed down Karen’s cheeks as she saw her dead father.
‘Bye, Dad!’ uttered Robbie, saying a posthumous farewell to his father. ‘Rest in peace!’
Karen took her father’s hand and pressed it firmly. She was devoid of talk or emotion, staring at his body vacantly.
They were all shocked a his sudden demise which had been so unexpected and they fought to absorb the fact of his departure in their minds. During his life, he had not been the perfect father in any sense of the word but he was the man at the head of the family regardless of all his faults. The sad fact was that, despite all the hard work he endured over such a long period of years, no one would really miss him. He was an important person in his high rank in the Government when he was alive Now that he was gone he was a past nonentity. All he had done during his lifetime would be carried on by someone else who had filled his shoes and the name of Templeton would vanish into infinity.
Contrary to how she thought she would feel, Diana was extremely sad that he had passed away. He had made provision for her in his will, but that was an ancillary action as far as she was concerned. When people are young, she thought, they don’t fear death for it’s only what happened to the old. It’s very remote and distant from their minds. And yet, when it comes, as it is destined to do, it buries sadness in the heart for death, at any time, always comes unexpectedly. The philosophy was true!
* * *
After Templeton’s death, Diana became very thoughtful. His words on his deathbed had been perfectly right. A person could get sucked into the work ethic unwittingly and end up like her late husband.....ruining his life for the sake of ambition. It had happened to Templeton and now she realised that its tentacles were beginning to encroach into her life. Firstly there was her volunteer work as the manageress of the Red Cross shop which had crept up on her slowly. Now it was the winning of the seat in the House of Commons. Little by little, her life was being taken over by events somewhat beyond her control. Was there some kind of Cosmic Joker in the firmament who played such tricks on people’s lives? It definitely seemed to be the case. Well she refused to allow it to happen to her. Something would have to go!
The funeral was held four days later in a cemetery in the countryside. Two plots had been purchase by Templeton many years earlier for both of them and, as she stared vacantly at one of the gaping plots, she wondered how long it would be before she filled the other one. If Dr. Mahmoud was right, it would be the best part of another one hundred-and-fifty years before it happened, A hundred-and-fifty years! Her mind reeled at the idea. Everyone she knew would be dead by then...all the people in her life...her son, Robbie, Karen, her friends Jane, Samantha and Dr. Martin, her supporter Carol Hemsley....everyone! It was a daunting thought that preyed on her mind.
The attending priest uttered a prayer over the coffin as it was wheeled out on a trolley into the field. The sexton arranged for it to be lowered into the cavity as those attending watched mournfully. More prayers were said and then the priest threw some dirt on to the coffin before the mass of earth interred it for ever.
Not surprising, as Templeton had been so high-ranking, many people attended the funeral, mostly Civil Servants and politicians and, from the look on their faces, some of them were delighted that Templeton had passed on to the next world. Diana imagined there would be a great battle amongst them as they fought to be appointed in her husband’s place.
After the burial, most of the mourners entered the vicarage where wine and sandwiches had been prepared. One person Diana recognised was Alan Greenfield, the man who had come to her house with a large bouquet of flowers after she had separated from her husband. He had told her that he had admired her from afar for a long time and he tried to proposition her to have an affair with him. It soon became evident that he was undaunted by her rejection of him. He was a horrible creep and she stared at him bleakly noticing that he was well over the limit having already imbibe five full glasses of wine. After eyeing her up and down
blearily, he plucked up courage to sidle up to her causing her to feel sick to her stomach.
‘Hi, Diana!’ he slurred with a stupid grin on his face. ‘Nice to see you again.’ She ignored him and started to walk away but he followed her like a sheep dog moving so the he could face her. ‘Why don’t you and me let our hair down?’ he ventured staggering slightly from right to left. ‘Come and have dinner with me. Yeh...why don’t you have dinner with me? And afterwards we could have a good time.’
‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself!’ she castigated irately. ‘You’re a married man with a family. Go home to your wife and stop m
aking a fool of yourself by trying to play the field. You’re not cut out for it!’
He smiled completely undeterred by her criticism, swaying slightly as he reached for another glass of wine. ‘Charles is gone,’ he muttered whimsically. ‘You have to get on with your life. Why not give me the chance? You know how I feel about you. Don’t let the opportune....opportune....opportunity pass you by.’
She looked down her nose at him in disgust. ‘I wouldn’t get involved with you if you were the last man on earth and that’s a fact. You’re disgusting and I despise you!’
‘Ah, he said, regurgitating, waving his glass in front of her face. ‘I like feisty women. I like the ones who say no when they mean yes,’
‘Get out of here!’ she snapped angrily in a whisper so as not to attract the attention of the other mourners. If you don’t I’ll have you thrown out!’
‘Huh!’ he laughed drunkenly. ‘Thrown out by the widow of the dead man at his funeral. That must be a first. Why don’t you call the police and have done with it?’
She moved away from him and launched herself into a group of Civil Servants on the other side of the room. It was sufficient to stop Greenfield from pursuing her. The gall of the man, she thought to herself, trying to proposition me at my husband’s funeral! What a horrible man! What was the world coming to when senior Civil Servants acted in such a manner?
After she arrived home, she realised that her sister knew nothing of the incidents in her life so she rang her to appraise her of the news. Laura was overwhelmed to hear of her sister’s success at the General Election but her voice saddened as she learned that Templeton had died. She hadn’t known the man for long but the fact was that he had been one of the family and his passing caused her an element of grief. She would have been far more concerned had Diana and Charles not been separated for a number of years. It somehow softened the blow.
‘Why don’t you come over here for a while?’ she invited helpfully. ‘Just until you get over the loss.’
‘It’s very kind of you,’ returned Diana mildly. ‘I’ve only seen Charles once in the last decade and that was when he asked me to withdraw my name from standing for Parliament so there no sense of loss really.’
‘Why not come for just a week. The change will do you good. You can surely spare one week. Mac and the kids would dearly love to see you again. And I want to hear everything that happened to you in details. You’ve got to come over here and tell me.’
Diana screwed up her face as she thought about it and then made her decision. ‘I’m sorry,’ she told her sister point-blank. ‘I’m expected in Parliament tomorrow. There’s an awful lot going on and I really mustn’t miss it. If I can persuade the Chief Whip to let me go for a week I’ll come....but it’ll be for one week only that’s for sure.’
‘Well you’re always welcome,’ continued her sister. ‘Let me know one way or the other. I’ll have your room ready.’
The line went dead and Diana pressed her lips together. She couldn’t really spare the time to cross the Atlantic Ocean again, not with her new career. If she could only split herself in two it would have been easier. Then she thought ’strike while the iron’s hot!’ You only have one life. Make the most of it!
The following day she met Duncan Redfearn, the Chief Whip, in the entrance of the House of Commons, seeking his permission to travel to the United States for one week.
’I can’t see the problem,’ he advised her. ’Members of Parliament are at liberty to come to the House or stay away, It’s entirely at their discretion. For obvious reasons, where there’s a major vote on an issue, they must come but I can’t see any objection to you being absent for one week. Have a good time there.’
‘I will,’ she told him delighted at the freedom. ‘I’m going to visit my sister and her family in Los Angeles.’
‘An interesting city,’ he responded amiably. ‘By the way, now that you’re here. I understand from some of your speeches in the hustings that you don’t intend to follow the Party line on some issues. Is that true?’
‘It is Mr. Redfearn,’ she told him bluntly. ‘If the Party tries to do anything I think will harm some or all the British public you can expect me to challenge it fiercely. I’m a woman of my word,’
‘I understand where you’re coming from,’ he retorted firmly. ‘We’re a hundred per cent for the British public and everything we do is intended to benefit them but we can’t be all things to all men.’
‘You do nothing with regard to crime and taxes,’ she countered strongly. ‘They should be your top priorities. Nothing is being done to curb criminals who carry guns or knives. Parliament simply stands back and lets it happen.’
‘You must understand we’re not in power so our hands are tied. We haven’t enough seats to press strongly enough to introduce legislation to prevent such things happening. It’s entirely the province of the Government.’
‘I don’t buy that for one second,‘ she snapped. ‘Why don’t we pester the Government non-stop to do something about it? If you don’t then I’ll do it. You can bet your life on it.’
He stared at her in dismay. ‘You have no idea how politics work, Mrs. Templeton. It can’t turn on a sixpence. There are so many matters to discuss and put into legislation. Everything takes time. It has to.’
‘Why?’ she demanded tersely. What’s wrong with changing the crime laws in, say, three months time? It doesn’t need a genius to work out what needs to be done. I’ve set it out myself in a ten minute speech. It calls for a massive revision of the law in Crown Courts. Surely that would be simple enough to arrange. People should be punished according to their crimes. Five years, ten years, twenty years and life with no remission. We have to eradicate crime. As such we would need less policemen and women to establish the peace.’
‘I agree with you wholeheartedly,’ he concurred, ‘but I’m relatively
powerless to keep pressing the Government on the single subject of crime. There are hundreds of other matters which need urgent attention.’
‘So you’re willing to let crime prosper in Britain with no help for the victims! I think that’s shameful. We must do something about it!’
He was clearly defeated in the argument and decided to put an end to it. ‘I hope you have a very pleasant time in America,’ he said finally and quickly departed in to the main chamber of the House of Commons.
Within five hours, Diana was on an aircraft travelling to the United States. It was a welcome relief to sit back with a drink in her hand after all the work she had done in the hustings and the death of her husband. Robbie met her at the airport to see her off and she was soon on her way for a short visit to see her sister and the rest of her family.
When she arrived there, Laura was waiting outside the airport. The two women hugged warmly before they climbed into the car.
‘Is there no end to your talents, sister?’ joked Laura exceedingly proud of her sister. ‘I don’t know how you do it,’ she laughed. ‘You could be a film star, you were a manageress in a shop and now you’re a real high-and-mighty member of Parliament. Gee I don’t know what you’re taking but I wish I had some of it. You must tell me all about it. Everything. I want to hear it. Every single word.’
‘You’re a hard taskmaster,’ laughed Diana easily. ‘By the way, how’s Greg... the amorous Greg who so wants to marry me?’
Laura burst out laughing. ‘You’re too late sis. You had your chance. He got married a day after his divorce came through. Married a boopy blonde who’s taking him for a ride. She shops every day buying expensive dresses, shoes, hats, handbags and a whole host of bling, and he’s having trouble keeping up with the finance.’
‘Does this mean another divorce is in the offing?’ asked Diana with a broad grin on her face.
‘I don’t think so,’ came the reply. ‘You see people like the luscious blonde Estelle have goo
d looks and a terrific figure and they only go for the money. Well she’s spending all of his so there’s no point in going for a divorce because she’d get nothing.’
‘My God!’ exclaimed Diana. ‘Hasn’t the man any sense at all?’
‘You know what he’s like with women. He’s in love with every one of them....short, tall, blondes, brunettes, whatever.’
Poor Greg, mused Diana unable to stop smiling. ‘He’ll never learn.
When they arrived at Laura’s house, Diana met Mac, Rusty and Chuck once more. She realised how deeply she felt for her family relishing the fact that she had now become a part of their lives. That evening, when the children had gone to bed, they sat in the lounge drinking and talking, mainly about the campaign waged by Diana at the hustings. Mac had imbibed a few too many beers and he became quite light-headed. He stared at his sister-in-law and unwarrantedly made a comment about her age and appearance.
‘Say, Diana,’ he began in an America drawl slightly slurred by the drink. ‘I’ve seen some photographs of you about twenty years ago in Laura’s album and you don’t look a day older. Laura now looks like the older sister instead of it bein’ the other way round.’
The comment was incisive and Laura reacted swiftly to it.
‘Hey!’ she chided with a tinge of anger in her voice. ‘Lay off , will you! Of course she’s my older sister.’
‘But she looks so young,’ continued Mac shrugging his shoulders.
Diana smiled although she felt embarrassed. It was true. Laura looked so much older but what could she do? It was impossible to reveal her secret to her sister especially as the words of Dr. Mahmoud rang in her ears. Laura would definitely believe her and soon there would be thousands of women banging on the scientist’s door begging for treatment. She couldn’t do it. In the ensuing silence, Laura turned to Mac.
‘Stop drinking and go to bed,’ she commanded. ‘I want to talk to Diana about Charles.’
Mac staggered to his fee and left them to go upstairs to bed. Diana turned to her sister and related the details about her husband’s operation and ultimate death. To Dian’s relief, the matter of age was quickly forgotten. Laura’s attitude towards her sister became a little tepid after that evening. She seemed unable to accept the fact that she looked much older than her sister. She kept looking at Diana’s face and then examining her own in a mirror. Mac was right. Laura was looking older with crow’s feet forming slightly around her eyes and the start of puffy bags under them while Diana hadn’t aged one iota over the years....still looking as young as she did when she was twenty-eight. It was not without relief that Diana left the United States at the end of the week. Triumph had a way of suddenly turning into disaster at a moment’s notice in life and although the sisters contacted each other fairly regularly by telephone, Diana was never invited to stay in Los Angeles again.
