Beyond the Arch

by David Evered

  ‘I have little to add.’ He smiled. ‘Sally is right that I have not always felt comfortable in her company. She can be very challenging but I’ve found that exciting and motivating as well as discomfiting. I wouldn’t wish that to change. She has had a liberating influence on me. I’ve had a richer experience of places, events and emotions in the last nine months or so than I’ve had at any time in my life. I suspect that such experiences cannot continue at this high level indefinitely, although I’m sure they may well do so for a time. But there have been quieter and more introspective moments and these have also been ones to treasure.’

  Tilly walked round the table and kissed each of them. ‘Thank you. It was, I know, an undiplomatic question but I have no regrets in asking it and I hope neither of you do. I’m sure you’ll conduct a post-mortem on the evening after you’ve left. It was a question born out of love and affection for both of you.’

  As they drove back, Peter asked, ‘Did you mind being asked that question by Tilly?’

  ‘I might have done three months ago but Jonny’s comments and your intervention gave me a few moments to think and, no, I was happy to respond. I only hope that I didn’t say anything that was problematic for you.’

  ‘No, you didn’t. Perhaps there’ll come a time when we shall have such a discussion à deux but I’m sure you would say, and I would agree, that now is not that time.’

  Sally smiled. ‘You have changed so much in the last year.’

  ‘Several people have said that, with varying degrees of approbation or, in the case of my mother, mild disapproval!’

  ‘And I also have changed.’

  29

  Jenny called Peter from Newcastle to say that Ann had been invited out for dinner on New Year’s Eve by colleagues and that Sue would be on her own. He went down to Sue’s flat to ask her to join them for dinner but she protested she was now so unused to social occasions that she might dampen the spirits of the others. He insisted that, if she were to join them, there would only be the five of them and she could always retreat to her flat if she wanted to withdraw. She finally agreed to accept.

  As midnight on New Year’s Eve approached, Michael looked questioningly at the others. ‘We have talked of many things this evening. I was thinking, before I joined you all, that in some ways I’m the odd one out here. There have been changes in all your lives over the last year or so – some major and some minor (mainly major) while my life has been proceeding along well established and apparently immutable lines. It led me to wonder what 1970 might have in store for all of us and the future in general. I was reminded of something that I had read when in my teens. I searched it out on my bookshelves earlier today. It was this: “the past is but the beginning of a beginning, and that all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn”. It always seemed to me that this encouraged a positive view of the future without denying the past. I wonder what each of us might see for our futures and I think it would be very interesting to share hopes and ambitions, although each of us, of course, has the right to retain our innermost thoughts within our own private domain.’

  ‘I think I recognise your quotation,’ said Sue. ‘It’s H G Wells writing on the future.’

  ‘Yes, you’re right. I’m conscious that my own wishes for next year and the years beyond are limited to one but it is a substantial wish and one which I have a capacity to influence, although the final decision will not be in my hands. Jenny and Peter know that I’ve had an ambition for some time to enter parliament and I’ve been shortlisted as prospective parliamentary candidate for a constituency in the north-west so it would be close to my home turf. It will be very interesting since it’s a seat that Labour has held for many years, so selection is likely to be followed by election as long as the candidate doesn’t do anything totally disastrous. The interviews will be held next month as there’s likely to be an election this coming year. More commonly, new candidates are expected to win their spurs in an unwinnable seat before getting a run in more propitious circumstances.’

  ‘That would be great,’ said Sue. ‘I would vote for you – I’m a Lancastrian born and bred.’

  ‘Do you have wishes for the coming year, Sue?’

  ‘Yes, but they are quite modest ones. I’m beginning to see the possibilities of new beginnings and new friends. I’ve already told Peter, and was saying to Michael when we were talking quietly together a moment ago, that I’ve joined a choir and I’m also putting in more time at the hospice shop. I feel these possibilities are being reinforced by occasions such as our dinner here tonight. This evening has been wonderful. It’s the first party of any sort that I’ve been to since – well you know when. Thank you, Peter, for persuading me to join you. You pointed out I had an easy escape route if it was too overwhelming but it hasn’t been, and I certainly shan’t leave until next year is under way. I just hope that my temporary house guest is starting to look positively to her future.’

  ‘I too,’ added Jenny, ‘although after spending a week with her in Newcastle I don’t think there’s much chance of that happening soon.’

  ‘And what would you like the New Year to hold for you, Jenny?’

  ‘I don’t know but I suppose the honest answer is uncertainty. That has been the dominant characteristic of the last year and I have found it exhilarating and motivating. Much of that has come from new or changed relationships, suggesting the possibility of further new relationships and developments.’

  ‘That’s a very positive but also a very general view; it almost qualifies as a politician’s response! Do you have any more specific ambitions?’

  ‘Not that I can articulate at the moment. I’d only add that I’m very open to new opportunities, both professional and social.’

  ‘That’s fair but how about you, Peter? You’ve absented yourself from the routine of everyday life to pursue a dream. Maybe more significantly you’ve released yourself from your inhibitions and developed and grown relationships with the result that, without wishing to sound patronising, you’ve changed incalculably.’

  ‘I’m not sure I can add much to that or to what Jenny has said. I do, however, have some very concrete ambitions, as you know, and have set myself various targets for the completion of my novel.’

  ‘Would you, could you, ever return to your previous incarnation?’

  ‘That’s not a straightforward question and I really don’t know the answer. It will depend at least in part upon the success or failure of my literary efforts. Perhaps, like Jenny, I too am prepared to revel in a state of uncertainty.’

  Michael looked at Sally. ‘I seem to have slipped into the role of inquisitor. Perhaps it just comes naturally to lawyers! We haven’t met before this evening so I feel hesitant to ask you to expose your wishes and ambitions.’

  She smiled. ‘This is the second inquisition I have been exposed to within the last few days. The previous one was by old family friends. I feel I should respond as I have happily absorbed the aspirations of others and it would seem churlish not to, but I shall pick my words with care. It’s now very nearly midnight and what I have to say will conveniently fill that period while Peter ensures that we all have a full glass in our hands. I have some very concrete ambitions as you do. I’ve learned much from the last year and have undertaken a commission quite unlike anything that I’ve done previously. It has sharpened my analytical skills and enhanced my sensibilities and given me a new understanding of time, of place and, above all, of people. Those experiences will colour and shape all that I do in the coming year and beyond. I’ve also acquired new friends, including some remarkably good ones, hence my presence here tonight. I too, like Jenny, look forward to experiencing further the unpredictability and indeterminacy of events and the ambiguities of people. Now it’s only one minute to midnight and I shall clamber off the hook upon which you have so neatly tried to impale us! I would only add that if I were ever to be arraigned for some serious offen
ce, I should prefer to have you acting for the defence rather than for the prosecution!’

  ‘Thank you for the compliment. It would be interesting to meet up again in a year’s time but now let’s welcome 1970!’

  * * *

  Sally and Peter were having coffee in the kitchen the following morning when Jenny came in at about ten in a nightgown. ‘I’m sorry I’ve not dressed yet but I was dead to the world after last night. Michael was amazing but, as far as I can remember, I think we all managed to avoid any major indiscretions.’

  ‘Probably, but one can never be quite sure what Michael picks up; his perspicacity is remarkable and, of course, he has the advantage of having known me for well over fifteen years.’

  ‘So what indiscretions do you have to conceal?’ asked Jenny with a smile as she poured herself some coffee. The doorbell rang before he had a chance to answer.

  ‘Literally saved by the bell! Now I have the chance to dodge that question,’ said Peter as he got up to answer it. He was surprised to find Ann at the door. He started to say ‘Happy New Year – I hope you had a good evening …’ but was cut short.

  ‘Has Jenny been here all night?’ she demanded loudly.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why is she still here?’

  ‘Because I suggested she should stay the night.’

  ‘Why? That was quite improper.’

  ‘I asked her so that she wouldn’t have to travel across London at a time when there was almost no public transport. We had a very good time last night.’

  ‘You bastard!’ she shouted. ‘I don’t want to hear you revelling in it!’

  Jenny came out of the kitchen before Peter could respond, having heard her sister’s raised voice. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing here?’ Ann demanded.

  ‘I think I heard Peter say that he invited me to stay the night and that is what I did,’ she said coolly.

  ‘You’re no better than a tart,’ Ann shouted.

  ‘Hold it,’ said Peter harshly. ‘You should stop right now before you say anything further which you will certainly regret. Your sister is certainly not a tart and you should apologise straightaway.’

  ‘Certainly not.’ She looked back at Jenny. ‘And what is that gown you’re wearing? It looks like mine!’

  ‘It was in the cupboard in the bedroom and I put it on while I had a coffee. Here,’ she said angrily, ‘you can have the bloody thing. I certainly don’t want to go around in your cast-offs!’ She undid the belt and threw it on the floor and stood there absolutely naked, staring defiantly at her sister. Peter laughed.

  ‘This is far from funny – put it on again at once! I won’t have you stripping off in front of all and sundry.’

  Jenny was incandescent with rage by this time and almost on the verge of tears. Very slowly, her voice shaking with emotion, she said, ‘I’m an adult and I will choose when and where I strip off and it has absolutely nothing to do with you.’ Very slowly, and still looking defiantly at her sister, she picked up the gown and put it on again.

  Sally had come to the kitchen door during this angry exchange and was looking quizzically at the three of them.

  ‘And who the hell’s that with that supercilious expression on her face? What’s she doing here?’ Ann continued to rage.

  Peter said very quietly, ‘She’s a very good friend and again the reason that she is here has absolutely nothing to do with you. Now you’ve caused enough upset for one morning and you’re making a fool of yourself, so just go.’

  Sue had heard the noise and had come up the stairs and she took Ann’s arm. ‘Peter’s right, Ann. Come back down to my flat.’ She led her away, shaking and tearful.

  Peter put his arm round Jenny. ‘Come back to the kitchen and have some more coffee.’

  She sat silently for some time, angry and unhappy. Eventually she said, ‘I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have taken the gown off but I was so angry at what she said and her insults.’

  ‘It was a wonderfully impactful and dramatic gesture,’ said Sally. ‘I think in retrospect we’ll be able to laugh at the episode. It provided quite a tableau. When I came into sight she obviously imagined that we had been up to all sorts of orgiastic behaviour to mark the New Year!’

  Jenny looked at her and smiled. ‘Thank you, yes, you’re right and at some stage I shall put things right with Ann. She is after all my sister, even if at the moment I feel that I never want to see her again.’

  Peter hugged her. ‘I’ll talk to Ann later. She and I do need to sort things out. She’s not only upsetting and alienating family and friends but she’s at risk of becoming a woman whose life will be dominated by resentment at the way the cards have fallen for her. And that will make it increasingly difficult for her to move forward.’ The doorbell rang again. ‘Oh God, I hope that this is not round two.’ He answered the door to find Sue standing there alone. She joined them for coffee.

  ‘Peter, Jenny, I’m so sorry about what happened. I didn’t know that Ann had come up to your flat until I heard raised voices. I’d been telling her about our party yesterday and hadn’t realised that she was misinterpreting my account of the evening in such a way. It must have been very difficult and what she said to you, Jenny, must have been very hurtful. I’m so sorry that I was unable to stop her coming up here. In her present state her imagination is working overtime.’

  ‘Sue, you really can’t be held responsible in any way. You’ve already been very good to Ann, and to me, by accommodating her.’

  ‘It was the least I could do as she was so kind and supportive to me after Andrew died. I’ve been talking to her and putting her straight. She has calmed down for now and I think would like to apologise. I wouldn’t dream, of course, of turning her out but I think it would be good for all of us if she were to move on fairly soon. She still carries a torch for you, Peter, but I can see that your life has moved on. I understand that and I’m happy for you. I just hope that Ann can find a future for herself.’

  ‘I too,’ said Jenny.

  ‘May I suggest that you leave it for a day or so before you talk to Ann? She needs time to reflect and I’m certain she’s doing just that. I also wanted to say thank you to all three of you, and I’d say the same to Michael if he were here. Last night was the best evening I’ve had for a very long time. I’m just so grateful that you persuaded me to join you. It took me a long time to go to sleep last night because Michael’s questions and all our answers led me to think much more positively about the future. So thank you and you all get a hug and a kiss.’

  ‘She’s a lovely woman,’ said Jenny after Sue had left. ‘I should go and get showered and dressed and,’ she laughed, ‘I apologise again for being such a brazen hussy!’

  ‘Ann may still carry a torch for you,’ said Sally after Jenny had left, ‘but Jenny is carrying armfuls of them.’

  ‘I’m not sure about that. I’ve never been, or rather I’ve never seen myself as, a source of attraction to the other sex.’

  ‘That in many ways is why you are. Many women avoid vain and self-regarding men like the plague. Now I’ve embarrassed you,’ she said laughing. ‘What are we going to do on this wet and windy day? How about a walk when the rain lets up, and with Jenny too if she’d like to join us?’

  When Jenny returned she turned down the suggestion to join them for a walk. She had agreed to join Cass and Stefan in going to a concert that evening. ‘I agree with Sue. It was a wonderful evening and I am so happy to meet you, Sally. Peter, thank you for your support. I’m still embarrassed by my behaviour but,’ she giggled, ‘only a little. Although I was so angry, I rather enjoyed making the gesture – probably more than I should have done! Sally’s right. It will be a story to share with selected friends and I shall share it with Cass and Stefan this evening. You must join us sometime for some music, Sally. I will make it up with Ann, but perhaps not today.’

  *
* *

  ‘Well, what are your immediate plans for 1970?’

  ‘I am going to be spending a lot of time in libraries mugging up on the background of writers who have lived in France. I want to increase my knowledge of the literature and review any critical analyses I can find. Then there is the other project which I have in mind, to explore the extent to which British expatriates are integrating or failing to integrate with local communities. I sense that quite a number of the more linguistically confident who live permanently in France are starting to get involved in local issues. I also need to acquire a better background in French and German history before I return to follow up my visits in the autumn. But what about you?’

  ‘That’s one hell of an agenda. I feel exhausted just hearing you spell it out! Mine is much simpler. I have set myself a target of finishing a first draft of the novel by the end of January. I shall spend two months revising it and then, with considerable trepidation, I shall open it up for comment and criticism.’

  ‘That may sound more focused but I don’t underestimate the challenges involved.’

  ‘Do you have an idea when you might go back to Sarlat?’

  ‘None at all; it all depends upon how long it takes me to do what I need to do drawing on library resources in this country. I can’t see that I shall get back there until the end of April at the earliest. But how about you?’

  ‘I’ve learned from you how serious a business writing is. Now that I’ve established a rhythm, I find it totally compulsive and there are times that I resent external distractions and time away from my desk. I find myself thinking continuously about the narrative and dialogue.’ He looked across at Sally, ‘But there are also times when diversions and distractions outweigh all that.’