Family Connections

by Family Connections (retail) (epub)

  ‘How do I stop him?’ When her daughter just shrugged, she asked, ‘How’s the guy you’ve moved in with?’

  Cheryl’s face softened. ‘He’s great.’

  ‘Maybe you could bring him home to meet us?’

  ‘Not yet. It’s too soon. You haven’t said anything to Dad about him?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘That’s all right then.’ She smiled. ‘And I won’t say anything about the ironing.’

  Peggy tried to get the dinner perfect, she really did, but the steaks were tough, even though the butcher had promised they’d be nice and tender. She’d rather have shopped at the supermarket, where prices where cheaper and you could get everything under one roof, but Hartley was friends with the butcher so he had an account there. It was a good thing she had steaks in the freezer and could pull an extra one out. She’d take the toughest one for herself.

  Cheryl came into the kitchen as she was preparing the vegetables. ‘Any chance of a cup of coffee?’

  Still smarting from her daughter’s unkind remarks, Peggy nodded towards the cupboard. ‘You know where everything is.’

  ‘I’ve just redone my nail varnish. I don’t want to scratch it till it’s fully set. They call it quick drying, but it isn’t.’

  Suppressing a sigh, Peggy got up and pulled out the instant coffee jar.

  But Hartley walked in from the garage just then, saw the jar of coffee and frowned. ‘I think we can do better than that for our daughter, Peggy. And you can make me one, too.’ He got out the percolator, then swept Cheryl off to the sitting room. Laughter came from there as Peggy continued her preparations.

  The meal wasn’t one of her best, but it was all right.

  Hartley took a bite of steak. He didn’t comment, but the way he grimaced at his plate and turned to Cheryl, pointedly not addressing any more remarks to Peggy, showed her his opinion of the meal. He could do that sometimes with no more than a lift of the eyebrows. She couldn’t finish her food, felt tears well up in her eyes and made an excuse to go into the kitchen and wipe them away.

  The evening seemed interminable. Cheryl was having problems at work and was asking her father’s advice. It sounded to Peggy as if her daughter was acting like a prima donna, but Hartley was on her side as usual.

  It was a relief that Cheryl had to leave early the next morning to visit a client in a town an hour’s drive away.

  Hartley looked at Peggy after he’d waved his daughter goodbye. ‘Not your best effort at being a hostess.’

  She watched numbly as he went to fetch his briefcase and left the house. Only when the sound of his car engine had faded into the distance did she allow the tears to fall.

  * * *

  Lou and Rick arrived in Australia early one morning to discover a world where the air seemed clearer and the colours brighter. Even the sky seemed to be higher above their heads, arching over them like a colossal blue dome.

  He stood outside the Perth airport building staring round in delight. ‘Will you look at that light! Lou, I’ve got to paint this.’

  She tugged at his arm. ‘First we have to find the backpackers’ hostel and get our bearings. Do you mind moving on?’

  He grinned at her. ‘OK, slave driver. But you realize you’re stopping me from thinking deep artistic thoughts here.’

  She grinned back as she hitched her backpack higher. ‘Yeah. Right. Now let’s find our way to Bakpak Heaven.’

  The double bedroom at $25 a night, sharing a bathroom with others, seemed fine except for having two single beds. But at that price you couldn’t expect perfection like a lovely double bed.

  Even though it was the middle of the morning here, Lou yawned and looked longingly at the beds.

  Rick hauled her out for a walk. ‘Experts say that you need to get the sun on your face when you change time zones.’

  They lasted till four o’clock then gave up fighting the drowsiness and crashed for a long night’s sleep.

  Tomorrow we’ll to go shopping, Lou decided as she snuggled down in bed. If we get ourselves some bits and pieces of food it’ll be cheaper to use the cooking facilities here than buy meals out. And the day after tomorrow, I’m going to look up my great-grandfather.

  She smiled as she put one arm round Rick. They’d pushed the beds together and tied the legs to keep them together. It felt so right to be sleeping openly with him, not just sneaking off furtively to make love and then pretend they hadn’t.

  Families!

  * * *

  Gina settled in at Mel’s house while her daughter was in hospital. She’d put her own plans on hold because someone had to look after Emma – and after Mel too when she came out of hospital.

  They had Mel on an IV drip and were giving her anti-emetics. The doctor told Simon this was one of the worst cases of pregnancy sickness she’d ever seen.

  ‘I’m to blame,’ he said to his mother-in-law the next evening when he came back from the hospital. ‘I should have had a vasectomy like Mel wanted me to.’

  Gina looked at him over the rim of her wine glass. ‘She could have had her tubes tied. It takes two to make a baby, you know.’

  ‘Yeah. I suppose so.’

  ‘What we need to do is make plans for after she comes out.’

  He looked round with a groan. ‘They don’t think she’ll be able to go back to work, not if she wants to keep the baby. She’ll be upset to lose this house, but I won’t. You know, Ma, it feels like a burden to me and always has done. I don’t know why we took on so much debt, why Mel had to have everything so perfect.’

  ‘I think she wanted to put down roots. You’ll have her grandfather’s money, don’t forget. That may tide you over till she can start work again.’

  ‘I suppose.’ He reached out to pour himself another glass of wine. ‘But it’d be stupid to spend that nest egg.’

  ‘You can’t decide anything till she comes out of hospital.’

  ‘Mmm.’ He stared into the glass for a few moments, then looked up. ‘I was asking the guys at work. One has a partner who’s a midwife and she sent me an email. Vitamin B6 is supposed to help and she knew one woman who was helped by green cordial, of all things.’

  ‘The doctor at the hospital may have some suggestions too.’

  ‘Yeah. But nothing worked last time. You can’t get away from that, can you? And it’s Mel who’s suffering, not me. She’s barely a third of the way through, poor thing.’

  Gina watched him take another slurp of wine but didn’t comment. If he wanted to drink too much tonight she’d not say a word, though if he made a habit of it, she’d have to speak up. She wasn’t going to spend her evenings with a drunk. Nor did she intend to become the authority figure for them both.

  They had to work out their own problems – and let her deal with hers.

  Only… Mel’s fragile state of health looked as if it was going to get in the way of Gina’s plans. It was so frustrating. Not that she’d refuse to help her daughter, of course she wouldn’t. But she’d been looking forward so much to her first trip overseas.

  CHAPTER 10

  England

  Rosie woke up feeling dreadful. Her skull was full of cotton wool, her throat itched and her head was thumping. She staggered along to the bathroom, stared at the white face in the mirror and groaned.

  As she was coming out she met her mother.

  ‘You look dreadful, darling.’

  ‘I think I’ve got ’flu. It’s going around at school.’

  ‘You’d better stay home. Go back to bed and I’ll bring you up a cup of tea.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  When her mother brought the tea, she said, ‘I’ll ring school and let them know.’

  Rosie meant to ring Mandy but dozed off and by the time she woke up, she knew her friend would be in class.

  She slept through the lunch break, so missed contacting Mandy then as well. She was annoyed with herself but seemed unable to do much else but doze.

  Well, if there was a letter fr
om her real father, it would still be waiting for her when she got better.

  * * *

  Peggy couldn’t seem to pull herself together after Cheryl’s visit. And Hartley was being very cool and distant with her, treating her as if she’d let him down. He didn’t need to say a word, just looked at her, and she knew what he was thinking.

  Then there was an incident at the supermarket. So humiliating. She did the shopping, then offered her card at the checkout.

  It was refused and she had to leave all her shopping there till Hartley came home from work and could come with her and use his own credit card.

  ‘My foolish wife,’ he’d told them, ‘forgot to check the shopping account. I’ll top it up tomorrow and this won’t happen again.’

  ‘Why did you say that?’ she asked as they went back to the car.

  ‘What?’

  ‘About it being my fault. It wasn’t. It was yours.’ And she was quite sure he’d done it on purpose to punish her. ‘I don’t see why you can’t allow me a little leeway with the shopping money.’

  ‘I’m the one who earns the money and I’ll be the one who’ll decide how it’s spent.’

  The look he gave her made her bite back any further protests, but she felt angry all evening. He seemed to control every little details of her life and gave her no breathing space… as well as no respect.

  Suddenly she remembered the Women’s Wellness Centre. The woman who’d shown her round had said there were counsellors there. Did you have to pay for them? If so, Hartley would be bound to find out because he kept a firm hand on her outgoings and would only let her have a debit card attached to a special housekeeping account.

  Would it do her any good to see someone? Would they help her to accept her daily life with him?

  No. She didn’t need help. She was managing all right.

  She was so lost in thought the following evening that she forgot to start cooking the dinner and it wasn’t ready on time.

  Hartley looked pointedly at the clock as she served the meal half an hour late.

  She lost the last vestiges of her appetite and turned to leave the room.

  He was up and barring the way before she realized what he was doing. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To watch TV. I’ve told you before I don’t enjoy my food when you’re so… critical.’

  ‘I didn’t say a word.’

  ‘You don’t have to. It’s the way you look. Nothing ever satisfies you.’

  ‘Sit down. You can at least keep me company.’

  She hesitated, trying to pluck up the courage to say she didn’t feel like being shouted at, but couldn’t find the courage to be so honest. ‘I may be sickening for something. I think I’ll go to bed.’

  ‘I hope you haven’t got the ’flu that’s going around. Make up the sofa bed in my models room before you go to bed and I’ll sleep there. I don’t want to catch anything. I’ve got some important meetings coming up in the next few days. Where’s my magazine? I might as well read if I’m going to be on my own.’

  ‘In its usual place.’ She escaped, her heart fluttering, her whole body tense. He went into the living room for the magazine she’d laid next to his armchair, taking it back to read while he ate. From the top of the stairs she heard the rustle of a page being turned, the sounds of his knife and fork, and tears filled her eyes.

  It hadn’t occurred to him to worry about her not feeling well, let alone cosset her a little. He didn’t really care for her, just found it convenient to have a wife to serve his needs. But what could she do about that? She wouldn’t even have enough money to run away on.

  Run away! Oh, she often wished she could just vanish, dreamed of finding a little flat for herself and living quietly and frugally. As if.

  Her thoughts churning round and round, she took his pyjamas and dressing gown into the models room, struggled with the sofa bed, put his toiletries in the guest bathroom and went back into the bedroom they usually shared. It was heaven to shower slowly in the en suite and slip between the sheets on her own. On an afterthought she screwed up some tissues and dropped them on the bedside table to make it look as if she’d been blowing her nose.

  When she heard him come up, she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. She heard him open the bedroom door and stand there, so she lay very still.

  With a mutter of annoyance he went away, closing the door with a thump. She heard him using the other bathroom, banging about in the room next door and finally getting into bed.

  Only then did she relax and try to settle down for the night.

  But it was no good. Sleep eluded her and she lay awake, seeing the illuminated numbers on the clock radio in the darkness, watching them flick through the minutes as she followed her own dark thoughts.

  She didn’t wake till just after nine and lay there for a few moments, feeling totally disoriented. The house was so still that Hartley must have gone to work. Well, he never let anything make him late for the office, did he?

  She stumbled downstairs, feeling heavy-headed as if hung over, to find chaos instead of the usual order. When she peered into the dining room, she saw that Hartley had opened a bottle of red wine with his meal the previous night. He must have drunk most of it because he’d knocked the bottle over, making a small puddle on the white tablecloth. It hadn’t occurred to him to put the cloth to soak.

  In the kitchen was the debris of his breakfast. You’d think a grown man could put the milk back into the fridge and his dirty crockery into the dishwasher. But he was useless in the house.

  Automatically she cleared the dining room first, taking the tablecloth into the utility room and running the stain under the tap. She then used vinegar and bicarbonate of soda to remove the mark. As the cloth grew white under her ministrations, anger welled up and boiled over – anger at him but most of all at herself for being such a doormat.

  She stood there motionless and then, before she could change her mind, she grabbed her handbag and keys, got into the car and drove to the Women’s Wellness Centre. Not allowing herself even a second’s hesitation, she parked the car any old how and marched inside, walking up to the counter. ‘I need to see a counsellor.’

  Only then did she burst into great strangling sobs.

  * * *

  Brad got off the plane in England feeling exhausted. He was too tall to fit comfortably into those tiny seats, so hadn’t been able to sleep, only doze for an hour or so during the twenty-hour journey from Australia. He wished he’d been able to afford to travel business class but this trip was going to cost enough without splashing out on luxuries like that.

  He stared enviously at those sitting further forward who could afford it. They looked so much more comfortable, not to mention having a lounge to sit in during the two-hour wait in the airport at Dubai.

  In Manchester Airport he yawned several times as he went to collect his luggage and go through customs. Afterwards he stood surrounded by family reunions, watching the joy on strangers’ faces as they met loved ones. He was surprised at how much he wished he had someone to meet him.

  Finding his way to the car hire firm, he took possession of the keys to his temporary vehicle and tried to take in the directions for finding it in the vast airport car parks.

  What he really wanted was to lie down and sleep – under a table, in some secluded corner, anywhere. He’d know another time to book into a hotel near the airport but he hadn’t made a long journey like this before and had assumed he’d sleep on the way. For now, he had no choice but to pick up the car and drive it away.

  He found a café in the airport and ordered a black coffee, shuddering at the greasy food on display. Hopefully the caffeine would keep him awake while he drove to Blackpool.

  ‘M61,’ he muttered as he settled into the car and studied the map again. ‘Then M55.’

  It was easy to find his way to the motorways because there were big signs painted on the roads at crucial points as well as signs on poles. Roundabouts kept the flow of traffic go
ing. The West Australian road engineers could learn a few things about road design, he decided as he moved easily into a new line of traffic. Back in Perth it was all stop-start at traffic lights.

  Even with a hold-up for road works, he was in Blackpool in just under two hours.

  He got lost in the town centre, however, and a few cars hooted their displeasure at his slow, hesitant driving. People seemed to drive more quickly here than in Australia, nipping with ease through the narrow gaps between the parked cars that littered the streets like discarded toys.

  There were so many hotels on the seafront, it took him a while to find the one he’d chosen from the Internet.

  ‘I may sleep right through till morning,’ he told the receptionist. ‘It’s a big time difference coming from Australia. Could you give me a wake-up call about eight o’clock tomorrow morning?’

  ‘Of course. Just put the Don’t Disturb sign on your door handle until then, sir, so that they don’t come in to turn down your bedcovers this evening.’

  Sighing in relief he wheeled his suitcase up to his room, took a shower and fell into bed.

  He knew nothing more until the following morning when he woke to the patter of rain against the window and looked out at grey skies and a heaving, brownish-coloured sea. Further along from his hotel was a pier. There were no pedestrians around.

  He grinned. Well, what did you expect? This was Lancashire, famous for its rainy climate.

  He had a quick shower and went down to eat a hearty breakfast. It sometimes embarrassed him how much he ate, but he never put on an ounce.

  He would, he decided, ring his English daughter tonight after she got home from school. In the meantime, he’d go out for a nice long walk along the seafront, rain or no rain.

  * * *

  Mandy found another letter for Rosie in her family’s post office box and wondered what to do about it. She decided to call in and see her friend, who hadn’t been at school today. She could pretend to be giving Rosie information about homework.