Seven Days Away

by Ruth Hay

  He wiped a damp hand over his face and stared into his clouded, grey eyes. He had to change this scenario and do it now before it was too late.

  Where to make a start?

  He needed a cash injection as a cushion against rising food prices. That would relieve some of the pressure. He had once reluctantly accepted financial help from his parents. It was a pride thing. But now he would have to beg for more if necessary. This was going to be difficult. He had never been able to pay off the loan. His father was already displeased at his choice of profession and would probably use the opportunity to recite all the disappointments his only son had caused him.

  The other elephant in the room, so to speak, was the situation with his wife. Jillian had given up on their marriage years before but that was undoubtedly one of the reasons for his stress. He thought of the Mexican holiday that was coming up in only a few weeks. How would they be able to conceal from his parents, and his perfect older sister, how broken their marriage was? If his father added this failure to the list he already held, any chance of a loan of cash would fly out the nearest window.

  On the other hand, a united family might have a positive influence on the old man’s decision. It was worth a try.

  After all, if he was going to submit himself to humiliation with his father, he might as well start by assuming that posture with his wife. It would be a kind of practise. He groaned at his feeble attempt at humour.

  Terrence Beck, chef, restaurant owner, husband and father took a deep breath and decided to make the changes he needed. First he would tackle the staff situation, second, attempt reconciliation with Jillian, and third, he would present a united front to his father as he asked for money. There was just enough time before the holiday to accomplish all his aims. He would do it. He had to do it before his entire life crashed around him in flames.

  Christmas. That was the key. Everyone was more amenable to good feelings at the festive season. He would aim for Christmas and see what could be done. He would start with Louise, his Lulu. As the youngest, she always clung to her father and followed his advice. If he got her on his side, she could help him persuade Abigail to fall into line with the family unity project. He would think of an incentive to encourage all three children to cooperate; a bribe of some sort.

  But for now, he needed to sort out the restaurant staff issue. He straightened up to his full height. This would be the first in a series of abject apologies. He would call the team together and try to convince them that he was turning over a new leaf and his recent behaviour would not be repeated. If he did a good job at this, the girl might forgive him. He reached into the shelf behind the mirror and extracted a new, bright red, neck scarf, knotting it loosely around his neck. It was like a flag of surrender, or perhaps a sign of penitence. He would wear it as a reminder of the decisions he had made today.

  * * *

  Abigail Beck checked the calendar at the side of her computer screen for the fourth time. It couldn’t be right, surely? Only two weeks to Christmas and she had done nothing about it yet. Her father’s invitation to Christmas dinner at his restaurant had thrown a spanner into the normal boring routine of the family meal at the grandparents’. Still, anything would be better than the long drive to the big house in Toronto that smelled of old people and the necessity to be nice to the M&Ms and the awful Portia. If, and she thought it was still a big IF, the crazy Mexico idea actually happened, it would be one less day in their company to be endured.

  Her father had never invited the family to his restaurant. She felt he was embarrassed by his nerdy son and two grown daughters, not to mention a wife who really should step up her game in the appearance department. As far as Abigail was concerned, she was the only one with any style in the entire family. She always dressed well for work, whether or not Curtis Soames was in the office. She knew he checked her out from head to toe whenever he passed her desk. One of these days he would invite her to go on an interview or a weekend event and then she could really captivate him with her youth and charm and appearance. It was only a matter of time. It would happen.

  So, to the matter in hand: Christmas Dinner. Her father had said this was to be his gift to all of them. He was intending to close the restaurant at noon just for them, and open again in the evening for the public. What was an appropriate present for him? Not that it really mattered. Louise was his favourite. Her gift would be the one he liked best. She had nothing else to do in her lazy student life than to seek out the newest cookery book or antique chef’s hat or a set of those silly neckerchiefs he wore at work. She would look online for some kitchen gadget or a sweater or something. It didn’t really make any difference. Devon was happy with anything at all and Louise would get the usual cheque.

  The whole Christmas Day thing was a bore. Any time she could spend with Curtis Soames outweighed anything she did with her weird family. In fact, if she could arrange to have to complete some essential writing job on the day itself, that would be the best solution to the entire problem.

  * * *

  “Really, darling! Please think it over.”

  Megan Anderson actually stopped rifling through the stack of legal papers she had brought home and looked up at her husband. When he called her ‘darling’ and said ‘please’ in that tone of voice, she knew something significant was coming.

  “It’s just that your parents are not getting any younger. They have cancelled the annual Christmas deal at their house and substituted this expensive week in a resort for the usual gift giving. I think that’s a very generous gesture. How can we possibly turn them down?”

  “Since when, Maurice dear, did you want to spend your precious reading week in a distant country with relentless sun and foreign food? Don’t you have marking or research or something demanding your attention?”

  “Of course, but I think it’s a small sacrifice. All three of us would get to spend time together. You must admit that’s a rare thing these days, Megan. I have talked to Portia. She is due some holidays and she thinks it would be a nice break for her.”

  Megan turned the papers over. Maurice noted this gesture and felt a rise in his confidence. She never stopped work unless she had another priority to face.

  “You could be right. I suppose I can shift part of my case load onto a couple of our trusted associates and I would be able to contact the office while we were away. It’s only a week after all. What could go wrong in that short a time?”

  “We owe it to your parents, Megan. I think it’s a good decision. Leave it to me to make the travel arrangements. I could even get Portia to pack for you, if it would help.”

  “That won’t be necessary but make sure the week is crossed out on all our calendars, digital and print, and remind me to inform the office. Could you also speak to my mother and confirm our acceptance?”

  “I’d be glad to! Let’s have a quiet Christmas Day at home this year, darling. No travelling, no rushing around. I’ll contact our favourite Italian restaurant and have it deliver a special meal for us.”

  “That’s remarkably helpful of you, Maurice.”

  She was not accepting this marked enthusiasm at face value. Years of marriage had demonstrated that Professor Maurice R. Anderson did nothing without expectation of a reward of some kind. This particular situation was raising red flags but she could not immediately see his angle. That would come later when she had time to examine all the facts. For now, it was useful that he had co-opted their daughter. Portia was not communicating with either parent lately. A relaxing week together could only be a benefit and an opportunity for mother and daughter to get back to some semblance of a relationship.

  Christmas was settled. There was a full month to follow before the Mexican trip. Plenty of time to prepare the ground at work, pack some summer clothes, try to mend fences with Portia and find out exactly what her husband was up to.

  Chapter 5

  Christmas Day.

  Dunstan’s Close, London, England, was the most magical place in the world to celebr
ate Christmas. Zoe and Wesley loved their first Christmas there as a married couple and vowed to keep the day as private as possible.

  They always had a large, living, Fraser fir in a huge pot. It was destined to be added to the small forest around the former church as soon as the festivities were over, but for the season, Zoe decorated it with a myriad of tiny twinkling lights.

  Wesley had insisted there must be an angel on the topmost branch and they set out to find the perfect antique angel in the Kensington Market, Notting Hill, and every likely spot in between. Wesley spotted her on a high shelf in a glass case and knew she was the one to grace their special tree.

  Angelica was installed carefully by dint of Wesley leaning over the railing on the mezzanine level while Zoe clutched the back of his jacket and uttered soft warnings. To add to the effect, they installed a spotlight attached to a bookcase shelf which shone a pearly light on the little angel and made her delicate ecru dress, blue sash and feathered wings look as if she was about to take flight.

  Sitting together on the couch in their living room below, they decided the Christmas tree was complete and they added nothing more to it.

  Friends and family who were in the United Kingdom were welcomed to Dunstan’s Close on Boxing Day. Zoe’s father and her Aunt Isobel, now living in a shared cottage in Scotland, made the journey to London with Sandra and Ian, happily retired and settled on Mull, and joined Corinne and Arthur for a day of relaxed eating, drinking and reminiscing. Carla occasionally flew in for a few hours if she was not filming in some exotic location elsewhere in the world. They always set aside time to Skype with Valerie in Canada and although promises were made, they had not yet managed to spend a holiday with Val in that other London, Ontario, where she lived.

  Christmas day, however, was theirs alone. Wesley and Zoe relished the time together with the silent city around them and the sound of ancient church bells winging through the chill air.

  Neither Zoe nor Wesley was troubled by gift giving. Their practice was to present a gift whenever the moment arose or when the chosen item was exactly right. As far as they were concerned it was enough to be together in their amazing home in peace and solitude for this one day of the holidays.

  This year, however, Wesley had a surprise for his wife. It had been a particularly busy year for both of them. Zoe had been inaugurating a whole new direction for her Excelsior Cosmetics line. It had proved to be highly popular with women and she intended it to be a founding part of the beauty business. Her attention to detail required many hours supervising photographic campaigns and new displays in stores not to mention the online selling that was taking over much of the business.

  Similarly, Wesley’s office had been inundated with new clients. It seemed as if challenging economic times in the capital city had created anxieties and fears among many men and women. The modern trend in young families to try to provide a perfect home life for each child despite time and energy restrictions, was now adding huge stress. At the same time, work situations became less and less secure. Overworked parents found themselves seated in Wesley’s office telling him their worries. Frequently, he heard it said that the quiet time they spent with him was every bit as therapeutic as his reasoned advice.

  Because of all these work-related issues, Wesley had seriously considered an opportunity presented to him by a grateful client, to take over an apartment in a resort in Mexico for one week in February.

  He had not yet broached the subject with Zoe but he had a plan. He had prepared a beautiful Christmas card for his wife with a photograph, taken from the resort’s website, showing the beach and pool area bathed in sunlight. Nothing could be more of a contrast to the usual dull, cold days and long dark nights of December in England. He hoped this would spark her interest and he could move smoothly on to the rest of his plan. He had conspired with Suzanne to choose a week in which there were no major board meetings or client conferences that absolutely required Zoe’s presence. Suzanne was more than helpful. She still supervised her boss’ master schedule and promised to keep the selected week as clear as possible. There were very competent department heads in the company who could pinch-hit for Zoe if needed.

  “Do it Wesley!” she had said. “Zoe works too hard. It’s time she had a break and a week in the sunshine would do her so much good. Don’t worry, we’ll make it work!”

  These encouraging words gave Wesley the final push to introduce his plan to Beth. His receptionist took her holidays during Christmas when her children were home from school and she, unknowingly, echoed Suzanne’s words of encouragement.

  “If there’s a client with an emergency, I can send them to another psychiatrist temporarily. It’s only seven days and you can be reached by phone if absolutely necessary. We can arrange your schedule to front load the week before you go and it should work out well. Take the opportunity. You two lovebirds didn’t even have a honeymoon!”

  In the end, his concerns were unfounded. Perhaps it was the sheets of rain driving against the windows or the wind howling in the clock tower as they settled into armchairs by the fire with tall glasses of a fine, vintage champagne. Zoe shivered despite the roaring fire and clutched a shawl around her shoulders.

  “I am so glad we are home safe on such a night, Wesley. Our Christmas Day together is just what I needed. There are weeks of winter before we can feel the warmth of the sun again and I am tired already.”

  It was the exact right moment. Wesley presented the Christmas card to his wife and saw the surprise on her face.

  She had a dozen questions, some of which he could answer and the rest could be found online.

  Zoe was delighted. She was usually the adventurous one of the couple but she appreciated her husband’s initiative in planning this adventure for both of them. Neither of them had ever been to Mexico and the resort looked amazing from the photographs.

  “Well, my darling, if it’s half as beautiful as it looks, it will be a touch of paradise for us. I think we deserve it. Let’s toast to our vacation.”

  The deed was done. Wesley sat back with a satisfied smile on his face. Zoe leaned on his outstretched arm, looking into the fire and thinking about what she would pack, or buy, for an unexpected holiday week in the sun.

  Chapter 6

  January.

  In Canada, the real winter cold started immediately after New Year’s. Snow fell every day until driveways were clogged and daily digging became the necessary routine.

  In the Beck household in Toronto, the job of keeping the snow in control fell to Devon. As the only one at home and without a workplace to go to, he was the obvious choice. He did not mind the task. Exercise in the cold morning and evening air, was a great way to keep fit and a good antidote to the hours he spent sitting at the computer. He had a radio in his basement rooms and kept it on so he could monitor the weather conditions. As long as he had the driveway cleared in the morning and again in the evening, no one complained, or even enquired about his activities during the daytime. The Beck household had fallen into the habit of ignoring quiet, uncomplaining, undemanding Devon. This allowed him to pursue his activities without supervision.

  During the evening, and occasionally overnight, he could exit the house by a basement door which originally led to the backyard pool, now disused. Although his parents slept, secure in the knowledge that they had an alarm system installed, they were unaware that their son had disconnected the points on the basement exit. He was meticulous about removing all traces of his footprints and had oiled the hinges on the door so no sound escaped to alert the rest of his family, sleeping peacefully two floors above. His nocturnal expeditions involved delivery of various packages to neighbourhood friends for which service he received cash payment.

  In their frantic lives, neither of his parents noticed their son rarely asked for money. It was one of the ways in which he achieved invisibility. His role in the family was similar to that of a pet dog; always around but needing little attention other than food, water and exercise. In fact, D
evon required much less that an animal would, and the rest of his family was content to let him be.

  By the middle of the month, Louise Beck was already tired of fighting the snow every day on her way to college. Waiting for the bus was sheer misery. The wind blew snow into every tiny space on her body left uncovered, and it was not long before her feet felt frozen to the icy pavement. She clutched a take-out coffee in her hands for warmth but it grew cold before she could get more than a sip or two. Her book bag holding her tablet and notes and a sandwich, was balanced over her shoulder so she could climb the steps onto the bus without spilling the coffee and, hopefully, find a seat away from the doors before the bus lurched on its way.

  It was the same boring routine she had been following for more years that she cared to count. Her mother called her ‘a professional student’ and she could not deny the label. High school had led to three years at university and when the degree proved useless in the competitive job market, she signed on for something more practical at the local college. Her courses were geared toward a future career in architecture or technical drawing but it required three more years of study and work placements in a variety of situations for experience in the field. It was relentless work and the worst was that she was not sure she wanted to spend her life in any of the areas for which she might eventually be qualified.

  She was becoming tired of being a student. Constant studying and exams, always lacking money despite scholarships, the uncertainty of the future and the constant trudging from building to building and bus to bus was wearing her down. Winter was the worst, of course. If she could afford a car, life would be much easier, but there was little chance of that luxury. No one in the apartment she shared had yet reached that level of financial independence.