New Cardiff

by Charles Webb

  ‘What?’

  ‘ caddy to carry your cigarettes around for you? Is that the gag? I want to be sure I’m not missing any classic humour here.’

  ‘Colin, I always try to see the funny side of things—otherwise we’ll end up jumping off a cliff. You taught me that.’ She stepped aside while a man carrying a bag of clubs clicked past her in a pair of cleared shoes and went into the clubhouse.

  ‘I got the impression we were meeting here for something serious.’

  ‘We are.’

  He nodded. ‘You got my letter.’

  ‘I did,’ she said, ‘and I was very touched.’

  ‘Just not touched enough to do the right thing.’

  She looked at him a moment before speaking. ‘Colin, until certain questions are resolved I’m not just going to fly off into the sunset.’

  Colin was about to say something more when he was interrupted by a loudspeaker on the wall of the clubhouse just above Vera’s head. ‘Will party twenty-seven report to the first fairway now.’

  ‘That’s us,’ Vera said.

  ‘Party twenty-seven to the first fairway now, please.’

  Vera held a white card out to him.

  ‘What’s this.’

  ‘Your scorecard:’

  ‘I don’t want a scorecard.’

  ‘You have to have it.’

  He took it, then followed her into the clubhouse and through a shop where clubs, caps, bags and other golf paraphernalia were displayed. ‘By the way,’ Vera said, ‘did you get the underpants?’

  He passed a sweater that had been shaped so that its arms appeared to be drawn back as if ready to swing a club.

  ‘Colin?’

  ‘Ask me again, Vera. A little louder this time. I don’t think they quite heard you out on the number eight hole.’

  ‘Are you party twenty-seven?’ a woman said, as Vera came to her desk.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You need to get right out there.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Did you want to rent golf shoes, sir?’ the woman said to Colin, glancing at his shoes as he followed.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Where are your clubs.’

  ‘Already out there.’

  Party twenty-eight, two women in short white pleated skirts, was sitting on a bench at the first tee. Vera walked out of the clubhouse and toward them. ‘I hope you weren’t waiting for us.’

  ‘Twenty-seven?’ one of the women said.

  Vera showed them her numbered tag. ‘But go ahead. We’ll wait for you to go first.’

  ‘You have to go in order,’ the other one said.

  Vera looked back at Colin as he caught up. ‘We have to go in order.’

  ‘I heard.’

  ‘We’ll go quickly,’ Vera said to the women.

  The two of them turned their heads to watch Colin as he passed them. ‘Hi,’ he said. They didn’t answer.

  Vera had started across the large grassy area stretching down from the tee.

  ‘Vera?’ he said, coming after her.

  She held out a short yellow pencil to him.

  He shook his head.

  ‘Just take it, Colin.’

  ‘I will not.’

  They walked side-by-side in silence for a while, till finally Colin turned his head to look back at the two ladies.

  ‘Are they starting yet?’ Vera said.

  ‘One of them’s putting her ball down on the tee.’

  He continued walking with his head turned back so he could keep his eye on the ladies. ‘Will you please light up so we can get this over with?’ he said.

  ‘What are they doing now.’

  When she had finished placing her ball on the tee, the woman held the club up over her head in both hands, turned one way, bent backwards and then turned the other way and lifted up her knee.

  ‘Colin?’

  ‘She’s exercising.’

  ‘Tell me when she’s going to hit it.’

  ‘No. You might get out of the way.’

  Tripping slightly as he looked back, Colin watched the woman step away from the tee and take a swing.

  ‘Now what’s she doing.’

  ‘Can’t you look for yourself?’

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Practising her swing.’

  Vera looked down at her scorecard, turning it over as she walked. ‘There’s a map of the golf course on the back of these.’

  ‘I wasn’t too worried about getting lost. Okay, she’s about to hit it.’

  Vera ducked.

  ‘She’s hitting it from back there, Vera. Good God.’

  The woman took two little steps up and down, then drew back her club, hesitated a moment and swung. There was a click.

  ‘Where is it.’

  ‘In the air.’

  ‘Where in the air.’

  ‘Just in the air, Vera.’

  ‘Coming toward us?’

  ‘Going toward some trees.’

  ‘Tell me when it lands.’

  ‘It just did.’

  ‘Where.’

  ‘Not on your head,’ he said. ‘What else matters.’

  ‘Where did it land.’

  He pointed over toward a thicket of trees as they walked.

  ‘I don’t see it.’

  ‘Open your eyes.’

  ‘Oh it’s yellow. I was looking for white.’

  Colin lowered his arm, glancing behind as the second woman bent over to set her ball on the tee. ‘Is this what you meant by a thoughtful and wide-ranging discussion by two mature adults to sort out the course of their future lives?’

  ‘I’m ready to start,’ Vera said, keeping several paces ahead of him.

  ‘Then do.’

  ‘All right,’ she said. ‘First of all, I’m sure your friend mentioned the little chat we had in the car park the other day.‘

  ‘My friend has a name, Vera.’

  ‘Mandy,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’

  Behind them was a click.

  ‘Where’s that one going.’

  ‘Same place.’

  ‘Tell me when it lands.’

  They walked a few seconds in silence.

  ‘It has.’

  ‘What I’d like to say about Mandy,’ Vera said, ‘is that she’s a very sweet person.’

  Colin caught up with her.

  ‘I can’t imagine anyone not liking her,’ Vera said. ‘She’s just very vivacious and bubbly and fun.’

  They walked a few more moments in silence.

  ‘Vera?’

  ‘Yes, Colin.’

  ‘I’m stupefied.’

  ‘Why are you stupefied.’

  ‘What a wonderful list of adjectives for Mandy.’

  ‘I’m just telling you how she struck me.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be writing them all down on your scorecard?’ He walked a little faster to keep up with her. ‘But Vera,’ he said, ‘surely among all the superlatives there must have been one negative.’

  ‘I didn’t notice any.’ She opened her bag as they walked.

  ‘These are qualities I haven’t even discovered in Mandy myself’

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ she said, looking through the bag.

  ‘And they all just came gushing out there by the supermarket? It must have drawn a crowd.’

  Gradually Vera came to a stop, but continued to rummage through her bag.

  Colin stopped beside her.

  ‘Shit,’ she said finally.

  ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘Wait here,’ she said, closing the bag.

  ‘I won’t.’

  ‘While I run and get them.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You won’t wait here for three minutes?’

  ‘So you can come back and start telling me more lies?’

  ‘What lies are these now.’

  ‘About your feelings, Vera. Just say you didn’t find Mandy very bright. Is that so hard?’

  ‘Colin, however bright I may or may not have found
Mandy, it doesn’t mean she isn’t sweet and fun, which are the qualities that make her such a welcome distraction for you at the moment.’

  ’Fore!’

  They turned to see the two women standing by the trees.

  ‘Fore!’ one of them called again.

  ‘Is she talking to us?’ Vera said.

  ‘I believe so.’

  The woman drew back her club and swung. Colin and Vera looked up as the ball sailed over their heads, finally falling next to a sand trap.

  ‘Will you walk with me back to the car park then.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Because I really do need a cigarette, Colin, if you’re going to extol Mandy’s intelligence.’

  ‘Is that what I was going to do?’

  ‘You were warming up to it.’

  The second woman drew back her club and swung. There was a click, and they looked up to see her yellow ball sail over their heads.

  ‘Where’d that one go.’

  ‘In the sand,’ Colin said.

  Vera looked ahead at the next tee, where two men were standing beside a golf cart. She bent forward slightly and squinted toward them. ‘Is that person smoking?’ she said. ‘The one in the orange sweater.’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘He is.’ She started toward them.

  Colin glanced at the two women, who looked silently back at him as they pulled their bags in his direction.

  ‘Nice shot,’ he said. He watched them go past, then hurried after Vera. ‘They hate us,’ he said as he reached her.

  ‘Maybe that kindred spirit up ahead will put me out of my misery.’

  He walked quietly beside her. ‘I don’t appreciate being put in a position where people hate me, Vera.’

  ‘No one hates you.’

  ‘Those ladies do. You didn’t see the looks.’

  ‘Well who cares if they do.’

  ‘I care.’

  ‘Why.’

  ‘Because I’m a person of love and understanding.’

  Ahead of them one of the men was loading his bag of clubs into the back of the cart as the other climbed into the small vehicle.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Vera said, hurrying toward them.

  They stopped, turning to look at her.

  ‘I’m terribly sorry to bother you like this,’ she said, ‘but I noticed you smoking as we were approaching, and I stupidly left my own cigarettes in the car. Is there any chance I could trouble you for one?’

  Stepping back out of the cart, the man reached in through the V-neck of his sweater to remove a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket. ‘British?’

  ‘Yes we are,’ she said, glancing at Colin. ‘Yes.’

  He shook the pack so that several of the cigarettes came partially out of it. ‘What brings you our way.’

  ‘Thank you so much,’ Vera said, taking one.

  ‘Take several.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Help yourself.’

  She took two more.

  The man shook the pack so that several more stuck up out of it, and held it in Colin’s direction.

  ‘I don’t. Thank you.’

  ‘What brings you our way,’ he said again, returning the pack to his pocket.

  ‘The foliage,’ Colin said.

  ‘I left my lighter in the car too.’

  The man reached into his pants pocket for a pack of matches. ‘Those are yours,’ he said, handing them to her.

  ‘This is so very nice of you.’

  ‘Where are your clubs,’ the other man called over from the cart.

  ‘We’re just getting a feel for the layout of the course first,’ Colin said.

  ‘Have a good one,’ the man in the sweater said, getting back into the cart.

  Colin held up his arm, waving as they drove off.

  The first match went out but Vera cupped her hands around the second one long enough for her to puff on the cigarette till it was lit. She took a deep drag and closed her eyes, holding the smoke in her lungs for several seconds before slowly exhaling it.

  ‘Vera?’

  ‘Yes, Colin.’

  ‘Not to spoil the magic,’ he said, ‘but since the reason for the cigarette was so you could stand hearing something about Mandy besides that she’s bubbly and fun, I might say a word or two in her defence now.’

  ‘I want you to.’

  ‘You don’t, but I will anyway.’

  ‘Colin, I want to learn to like Mandy.’

  ‘And as for the patronising remarks,’ he said, raising his scorecard, ‘one more and I’ll use the map on this to find my way out of here.’

  She held out her cigarette and tapped it to knock off a couple of flicks of ash. ‘Touchy.’

  ‘Mandy leads me to subjects,’ he said.

  ‘She what?’

  ‘She’s able to find subjects for me to draw. No one’s ever done that before.’

  Vera took a second drag, not: as deep as the first. ‘thought you liked to find your own subjects.’

  ‘But she finds them anyway. She put me together with her brother. Then a chemist. And an elderly man at the home where she works. He could barely stay alive for his portrait, but it still turned out.’

  ‘I’m sure I could find subjects for you,’ Vera said, ‘if I thought that’s what you wanted.’

  He shook his head.

  ‘At least let me try, Colin, if that’s one of her attractions for you.’

  ‘You couldn’t.’

  ‘I could learn to.’

  ‘Maybe Mandy and I think alike visually. If there is such a thing.’

  ‘You and I think alike, Colin.’

  Again he shook his head.

  She took another puff. ‘We always have.’

  ‘Not really. And the only way you could ever think like Mandy, Vera, would be to unlearn things. And that’s not something you can do.’

  ‘Unlearn what.’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe everything.’

  ‘Would a lobotomy be a good place for me to start?’

  ‘You’d have to unlearn how to say things like that.’

  Vera looked down at a lump of earth that had been turned over near her foot. ‘Odd,’ she said, ‘I thought that sounded like something you’d say.’

  ‘And it is,’ he said. ‘And that’s my point. If we do think alike it’s in the wrong way. We don’t even know where one of us ends and the other begins any more. But it’s time for us to break into two parts now. And each part move off in its own direction. And face it, Vera, even you have to admit your little wedding prank had the purpose of ending things between us. Consciously or not.’

  With the toe of her shoe Vera turned the piece of turf back over to cover the bare spot. ‘No. I’ll admit that was the most awful thing I’ve ever done. And how I could have done it to you will always be beyond me. But if I did it to end things, why did I come over here.’

  ‘Because of how guilty you felt, but that doesn’t change the reason you did it.’ He watched her walk slowly to another piece of overturned sod. ‘Every friend we’ve ever had has told us at one time or another, they’re mystified at why we’ve stayed together so long.’

  ‘What friend told us that.’

  ‘What friend didn’t.’

  ‘We’ve had this argument so many times before.’

  ‘We endlessly have it.’

  She turned the second piece of turf right-side-up with her toe. ‘I can even tell you the next thing you’re going to say.’

  ‘You keep making my point for me, Vera.’

  ‘That you’ve huddled in my shadow all these years because I have all the social poise and you lack confidence with other people.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Weren’t you going to say that.’

  Colin walked over to where Vera had been standing before. ‘It was in the queue.’

  ‘And that half the time you feel like just another of Vera’s Treasures, whatever you mean by that.’

  With his shoe he turned
the first tuft of grass back over to expose the dirt again.

  ‘And you’ll end up by saying the main reason we’ve stayed together so long is only because our families are such close friends we don’t want to rupture their relationship.’

  Colin looked over at the women. One was standing in the sand trap. She hit her ball up on to the green.

  ‘But haven’t we had enough angst for a while, Colin? Would you mind if I tried to lighten the mood a bit?’

  ‘Be my guest.’

  ‘I’ve wanted to tell you this thought I had yesterday,’ she said, again tapping the ash off her cigarette. ‘Let me think where I was. Oh. I was sitting in the McDonald’s on Main Street.’

  ‘By any chance is this some profound insight into American culture we’re about to hear.’

  ‘How’d you know that.’

  ‘Just say it, Vera.’

  ‘That’s uncanny. How did you know that.’

  ‘That’s how Siamese twins work.’

  ‘Incredible,’ she said. ‘But I was sitting there reading the paper. And I looked up and I thought, “Vera? Here you are in America, where freedom of speech is revered more highly than anywhere else in the world …’”

  ‘Vera.’

  ‘Can I finish?’

  ‘Whenever you start referring to yourself in the third person there’s trouble looming.’

  ‘I won’t do that.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Anyway, it was the second person.’ She took another puff. ‘But I looked up from the paper. And it hit me. Isn’t it odd, I thought, that the country with the most freedom of speech has the people in it with the least to say.’

  Colin had turned back toward the women. One was on the green, standing over her ball. She drew her club back a few times, then putted the ball toward the hole.

  ‘Isn’t that ironic?’

  ‘Can we go back now.’

  ‘You don’t want to compare our impressions of America.’

  The woman walked across the green, bent down and removed her ball from the hole.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then could I ask one last question about Mandy?’

  ‘One.’

  ‘Did I hear you say she works in a home?’

  ‘I said it. It would appear you heard me.’

  ‘Administrative work or something?’

  The women had finished the first hole. They walked to their golf bags, pushed their putting irons down into them, then wheeled the bags away from the green.

  ‘I’m in the early stages of an extremely severe Vera headache,’ Colin said.

  ‘Can’t you tell me what she does at the home?’