THE WAITING GAME                         Monologue

SCENE

A young woman in her mid thirties dressed casually yet smartly in black leggings, pumps and silk oriental print kimono is sitting on the sofa in a spacious luxury apartment overlooking the London Thames.

SHE TAKES OFF HER GLASSES, FLICKS HER LONG BRUNETTE HAIR FROM AROUND HER FACE AND PUTS DOWN HER KINDLE.

Reading! I love reading. Just as well considering. It’s quite tedious and lonely when you wait and wait for your man.

Jeremy is a Consultant Surgeon in Orthopaedics. Yes! He works long hours and quite ften I am disappointed with the last minute call. You know,”So sorry Susie darling , I’ve been called into theatre in an emergency”. Of course I can’t complain. He is of good financial standing and I never have to slave over a hot stove for him. Jeremy likes fine dining and we always eat at the finest restaurants away from London. One of our favourites is out in Buckinghamshire. It is quiet and peaceful, away from the buzz and the prospect of bumping in to colleagues and  then all that “work talk”.  

SHE WALKS OVER TO THE DRINKS CABINET AND LOOKS INSIDE.

“G + T? Why not! I’ll get his Malt Whiskey and glass ready. Ice is in the fridge. We usually have a swift one before calling a cab to the restaurant.

SHE POURS HER DRINK, SITS BACK DOWN AND LOOKS AT HER WATCH.

“Seven thirty. Said he’d be back around eight tonight. We met when I worked in the Beauty Hall at Harrods four years ago. He came in to buy some perfume for his mother and we began chatting whilst I was gift wrapping for him. The rest of course is history.

I stopped working weekdays to be available when he is around. His working pattern was and still is unreliable though weekends he works flat out in the private sector. Better pay than the NHS. No chance of seeing him then but one has to sacrifice something for the luxuries we enjoy.

 SHE LOOKS AROUND AND PICKS UP A PHOTO FROM THE SMALL COFFEE TABLE NEXT TO THE SOFA.

This was taken when we went on a 3 day trip to Paris. It was summer, the holiday period and it was difficult to take leave so Jeremy said he wanted to take a few days out to see some research on a personal project he was into up country. Well……..we were queuing to book into the hotel when he spotted a colleague and his wife at the bar. Small world isn’t it. Fortunately they were facing the other way so unnoticed we slid away and

                                                       -2-

changed accommodation. Phew …..that was a close one. Consequently we spent the entire time hiding away in that  hotel.

Poor Jeremy! He felt so awkward he bought me a breathtakingly beautiful emerald and diamante necklace with matching earrings. You know the kind of pieces you would wear with exclusive evening wear at black tie or whatever.

Now that reminds me. Melissa!!!!!! She is a ‘fly in the ointment’. Every year Jeremy has her on his arm at the New Year Ball. Of course she is an asset, one of the crowd. She did her training as a Registrar with the others ten years ago. Naturally she can keep on par with the elite and their medical chit chat at the dinner, that’s until the wine really flows.    .After that what goes on at the New Year Ball stays at the Ball (SHE WINKS) and  these are the professionals who chop us about on the operating tables (SHE LAUHS). Mind you, I have little to worry about. Jeremy finds her irritating, dominant and self centered but nevertheless once extremely useful. I believe she used to be a rather popular girl (SHE WINKS) and had connections which may have helped his ascension into Consultancy. Obviously he feels some obligation to invite her to such functions.

(SHE LOOKS AT HER WATCH)

Umm, ten minutes to eight.

(SHE GLANCES ACROSS THE ROOM AND POINTS TO THE HUGE PATIO WINDOWS)

The sun’s gone down and the light is beginning to fade but its still a beautiful view. Calm and peaceful as the day subsides into the magic of twilight. Yes he works non stop but he wanted to buy  this place for us. He doesn’t even allow me to contribute financially to the upkeep. He says this is his haven, his sanity.

SHE LOOKS AT HER GLASS

Empty! I’ll hold out and wait for Jeremy. Not a good thing to drink alone they say. I wonder if we’ll go to that new French Brasserie. It’s right out “in the sticks” but the cabbie will find it.

I would take up an evening class but then again I need to be here to comply with his forever changing shift patterns.

One day……….yes one day he will take down his workload but of course he is at the pinnacle of his career. I’m not alone in this dilemma. With success come many sacrifices

and they say the support of  good partners/wives/friends etc.

                                                            -3-

 

SHE CHECKS HER WATCH

Eight o’clock. Umm, no text or call so I guess he’s in traffic.

SHE OPENS HER LAPTOP AND PUS ON HER GLASSES

Haven’t checked my e-mails today. Probably the same old junk mail to delete. Oh there’s one from Jeremy. Posted at 09.21 this morning.

SHE READS OUT LOUD

Darling Susie. I hope you find this as my mobile fell out of my jacket onto the drive and I reversed over it.

SHE TAKES A DEEP BREATH AND READS THE REMAINDER IN SILENCE

AND THEN LOOKS UP

Thought so!!!!!! apparently at breakfast Melissa suggested they have a family evening and take the children to the cinema tonight. What did they say about not drinking alone?

SHE TAKES HER GLASS OVER TO THE DRINKS CABINET, POURS ANOTHER DRINK AND PICKS UP HER KINDLE

                                                                                   19/09/2014

AN ODE TO MY MASTER             DEDICATED BY LEAH TO JOHN MARLOW

SONNET WITH IAMBIC PENTAMETER

The love in my eyes come straight from my heart

For you have been my Master from the start.

I depend on you to fulfill my needs

With a ball in hand you gather my lead.

We walk to the field; I’m eager to run

You throw it far; we have such fun.

I jump high in the air and  catch the ball

You say “That’s my girl, you can do it all”.

When your labours are through you take your rest

To sit by your side is what I love best.

The food on your plate is really divine

I go to my bowl and some of its mine.

You sleep in your bed; I lay by your side

I’ll protect you always with love and pride

19/09/2014  

STORY

THE SILVER LINING

She made her way through the fresh spring air. The reflection of the sun open the daffodils enhanced the beautiful abundance of yellow. ‘Spring’, she sighed, ‘a new beginning yet she was about to enter a darkened closure which would never lift the cloud

that had besieged her.

Susan had received a call from her Mother’s nurse. “Sorry to trouble you, my name is Adele your mother is gravely ill. I thought you should be informed it’s only a matter of time.” Her mother had relinquished all ties with her on her 21^st birthday when she dared to enquire the identity of her father. She had bought her daughter up by herself and to ensure privacy had alienated all around her. Her childhood was a lonely existence encased in a life of loneliness from family and the prying eyes of outsiders.  “Don’t get involved with them lass, they only want answers to scandalous questions. I keep my own counsel” she would say.

She reached her mother’s gate. With heart pounding she knocked on the worn brass knocker of the faded door. As it opened she was greeted by a kindly middle aged woman in a crisp white nursing tunic. “Hello, you must be Susan”. She lead her to her mother’s room. The frail figure in front of her, sunken cheeks and severely pointed cheeks opened her eyes. Upon seeing her daughter the fire in her eyes blazed. “So…… I suppose you have your own purpose (her mother took some oxygen from her mask) well, you have wasted your time”. She half heartedly hoped her mother would voluntarily offer compassion to end the demon which so haunted her. It had finally become apparent her mother would take her answer to the grave and she would not push the issue.  “Mum,

it matters not, not anymore. I wanted to see you. Adele rang to say you were very poorly.

I had to come”. A smile broke out on her mother’s face and Susan noticed the familiar dimples in her cheeks. She always loved those dimples and felt blessed she had inherited them. She reached out and touched her mother’s hand and felt her squeeze it back. She tried to hold back the tears which filled her eyes “Mum, would you like me to pack a bag and come and stay. No questions, just time together?”. Her mother took another intake from the oxygen mask.  “Yes dear, that would be lovely”.

They spent her mother’s final days together and when the inevitable happened Susan mourned for the lost years and the untimely early death at forty one from the cancer which had riddled her. At least she had the consolation of mending bridges and gave her mother the funeral she deserved. Indeed attendance was sparse for she knew only a handful of relatives owing to her mother’s ‘hermit like’ lifestyle. The occasion had finally convinced her that she had taken her secret to her grave. There had been no whispers nor  hints from the mourners which gave any clue to her dilema.  .

It was now time to reflect on the future. The constant need to learn her father’s identity

was no longer tenable. The cloud which overshadowed her could no longer sour her with bitterness. Time for change.

A local Agency had submitted  her application for a new American Company which had moved into the City five miles away.  She was successful and to her delight found herself

in a new dimension. A third of  the staff were over from the Sates on Contract. It was now the 70s and this  fast moving Company brought with it new technology, different language dialogue, lattes, American Diners , the first car phones for the Company elite; the change was endless and it fascinated her.

Melissa, the secretary next to her was over from the States for six months.  Susan was often perplexed by American dialogue and would rely on her for so called ‘translation’.

“Excuse me mam, can you direct me to the Bathroom?” Susan looked up, “Sorry Sir we don’t have bathrooms”. She noticed Melissa giggle and interrupt the conversation. “Sir, if you care to go down to the end of the corridor the Bathroom is on the right”. She took Susan aside. “He means the Gents, we call it the bathroom”. ”Well what is the bath bit?” quipped Susan. Melissa laughed, “We call the Ladies or Gents toilet the Bathroom anyway how about lunching together and we can have a proper chat?”

They made their way to the sandwich bar and then sat out on the grass. Melissa threw a small piece of crust to a tiny bird in pursuit of some pickings. “My mother was a G.I bride. My father took her back to the States after the war. They are now divorced and she has re-married. I’ve always wanted to see her roots so this temporary transfer has given me the chance to stay with my grandparents in her hometown of Brookfield.”  “That’s the next town to me Susan remarked, I know it well. My mother has recently passed away and I never knew my father. Mum said he was a bad man who had walked out on her.

Apparently she didn’t even tell him she was expecting me. Neither did she ever divulge his identity to anyone, not even close family. My birth certificate reads “Father unknown”. Apparently he was the only man she had ever known and had no intention of finding another after that”.  “That’s awful Susan, I’m so sorry. Tell you what, how about we have a weekend in London. You can show me the sights, it’ll be fun?”

It was an enjoyable two days. “Oh my God. Buckingham Palace. Is the Queen there?”

Squealed Melissa. “Let’s do Piccadilly, Trafalgar Square and Covent Garden. Tomorrow can we see Harrods and Knightsbridge.?”. Susan enjoyed the weekend for she knew the next week she would be on leave and a hard task awaited her. Melissa sensed her mood, I’m at work next week and I appreciate this is a personal and private matter but I will help you if you need me.”

She woke before dawn on Monday, it was early and she pulled the duvet around her in an attempt to savor another hour’s sleep. Her restless mind won the fight and she went downstairs to switch on the percolator. The water from the shower refreshed her and the smell of the freshly brewed coffee was welcoming. As she held the mug in her hands she tried to draw comfort from its warmth. As she sipped the coffee she anticipated he relentless task ahead. She knew the ‘turning out’ of her mother’s belongings would be an emotionally demanding pursuit. Some of it would be the usual bric-a-brac or clothes for charity, some memorabilia and family photos. Her thought was interrupted by the house phone. It was Melissa,” Susan, I’ve had a call from the States. My father is going in for an operation; nothing serious but I fly out to Boston tomorrow. I’ll be round at

one o’clock. I’ve phoned in for compassionate leave”. Susan pulled the phone nearer the bottom step of the stairs and sat down,” Are you sure you’ve got time, it’s really kind of you Melissa; you’ve got packing to do?”  Melissa’s tone was relaxed, “No problem honey, I’m just throwing a few things in now and booked the ticket with the local Travel Agent.. Luckily there were plenty of seats left. The flight isn't until late tomorrow. See you later”.

As she entered her mother’s house she felt uneasy. It smelt musty and felt eerie. Placed in the front of the house was the skip she had ordered. It would suit Items of old furniture, threadbare rugs and junk. Her mother had always been a hoarder so she would tackle the kitchen first; get it done. As she waided through the pots and pans, plates and cutlery she kept aside some decent enough for charity and left the remainder for disposal. The silver plated two tier cake stand she would keep for they brought back precious memories of her childhood baking days. She riffled through paperwork, mainly old bills and useful emergency telephone numbers stuffed into nooks and crannies. The kitchen complete she opened some freshh milk and switched on the worn old kettle.

The doorbell rang. “Only me Susan”. Melissa helped her with the coffee and they sat at the kitchen table.  “I’m packed and ready for the flight tomorrow. I’ll give you my flight information before I go this evening You’ve done well, kitchen cupboards and drawers are always the worst, so many things”. Susan sighed, “Think I’ll do mum’s bedroom next. I really don’t want to go through her personal belongings, so personal to her you know what I mean. Will you help me?” Melissa placed her hand on hers “ If you are sure?”

They began with the Tallboy; underwear, nightwear, sweaters and tops.” Melissa can you put sweaters and tops in the charity boxes ,I’ll put  the rest in the black bin bag for the skip. Now the dressing table,”. Melissa opened the drawer, “No makeup!” Susan waded through talcum powders,. creams, hair lotions and rollers, “No mum was never one for makeup. “Only used for attracting the male species. I only had one man, that was enough,

nothing but heartache” she’d say. All  to go out in the bin bag this lot”

Hesitantly Susan  wandered over to the bedside cabinet. Melissa sensed the nervousness etched upon her face, “Take it steady honey”. Susan thumbed through a couple of hardback books and postcards. As she picked up a tatty old telephone book her hands shook as she went through each page. “Phew, only old family numbers, doctors and dentists, that sort of thing. She didn’t mix socially, said folk would only pry so didn’t take friends on board.” Susan closed the bedside cabinet door. “Only the wardrobe now”.

She knew her mother had a small briefcase with documents. “Ah here it is. Mum went through these papers with me before she died. You know, the Will and Deeds to the House etc. Its only clothes now”. Melissa sat on the edge of the bed as Susan went through hanger by hanger. Anything half decent to charity the remainder in the bin bag.

She scoured the top shelf and found some memorabilia her mother had kept from her childhood; her drawings from infant school and three photograph albums. Tears cascaded down her  cheeks. Melissa hugged her as she flipped quickly through the albums. “Put them aside honey, they are yours. They are your childhood”. The top shelf was now empty. Susan took a deep breath, “That’s all done”. Melissa went to close the doors, “Just a minute, on the top shelf there is something caught between the corner of the shelf and wall at the back “. Susan stretches up, “Looks like a tatty old scarf or something, I’ll grab it”. She eases it out. “Its’ an old cap, military I’d say”. She blows the dust off and spreads it out. “Has a silver coloured lining with something on it like 'Property of the American Air force'. Oh there’s a name tag, a  bit difficult to read” Heart  racing and hands shaking her instinct is telling her she has found her answer. “It looks like Jon Sil…. Err Silverman. .Melissa, your name is Silverman”. Speechless they stare at each other. Melissa tries to gain composure, “My father is Jon Silverman and he was over here in this area when he met my mother. Susan, if you mother only ever had one boyfriend, well it is possible”. She is interrupted by Susan, “We could be half sisters”. Melissa ponders, “Susan, come with me to the States tomorrow, for now I’ll just say you are a friend until dad is recovered.

Susan breaks down, “I am confused, half of me is scared, the other half of me is excited. It feels like the adrenalin is pumping away the cloud which has so tortured my entire being.  Anyway now is not the time for your father”. Melissa hugs her, “I know that but tests can be done later”. “No Melissa, you go and we will sort things out in a month or so after his recovery”

The following morning Melissa made her way to the Airport. She sat in the departure lounge mulling over the previous day’s events. She was looking forward to seeing her father yet knew she had to conceal the newly found situation. “Will all passengers on flight NA371 please procede to boarding gate C ready for departure.

As she approached the Gate she felt a tap on the shoulder. She spun round, “Susan, oh

Honey, you’re joining me to Boston.

EVERY CLOUD HAS A SILVER LINING

   .

02/08/2014     

   

SONNET  

REFLECTIONS (with Iambic Pentameter)

Summer is fading, it’s brightness subsides

The late evening sun goes down to hide

Replaced by the moon and its’ perfection

It has a face; is it your reflection?

I reach out to touch you, so near, so far

Shining down sweetly like my special star.

The gold tones of Autumn enrich our days

Like love’s own splendor which ne’er goes away

Sun kissed Autumn leaves; red, yellow and Gold

Like jewels on the ground, a sight to behold.

The pleasures we gain from such resources

The Sun and the Moon taking their courses

I love the moon, it has such perfection

I can see your face in its’ reflection..

FLASH FICTION

 THE GIFT

As she ran her finger round the rim she caught a fleeting glimpse of her son Sam through the reflection of her glass. Childhood dreams, tears from grazed knees and the confusion of adololescence banished to a bygone age.  The mould was now complete for today he becomes a man.

She looked up at the inscripted ’21 Today’ celebratory bunting flapping in the gentle breeze. With David’s guidance she had applied her utmost in preparing him for the challenges of the adult world.

Jane had met David whilst covering the Teachers’ Strike for regional broadcasting.

He was Headmaster at the local Grammer School and it had befallen upon him to

face the rigors of Jane’s interviewing skills. He was fifteen years her senior, a committed bachelor yet this girl was unique and fascinated him. Regardless of her drive and ambition she exuded genuine sincerity and compassion. Her intellectual standing matched his and he needed her.  His calming and practical influence had become her rock and stability. He was her soul mate, her confidante and she adored him.

His marriage proposal had been well planned. He had phoned her mobile one afternoon. “Hi sweetie, I have a report to do for the school Governors this evening and need to use the office to assess the files. Tell u what. Why not call in about 7 o’clock, and you can give it the once over before I send it.. Then we’ll  eat out”.  Jane happily agreed; it would be good to try that new Bistro on the High Street. She arrived at the school promptly at seven and could see David’s office door ajar. As she entered he stood up and walked towards her, hand outstretched. “Miss Lawson, pleasure to meet you”. She laughed, “Likewise Mr. Hayden”. He went down on one knee. Jane felt a sudden rush of heat

overwhelm her. “Jane Lawson, would you do me the greatest honour of becoming my wife. I have chosen to ask you here on the same spot we were first introduced. It is my favourite place” He giggles quietly to amuse her. I hope you say yes or maybe perhaps think it over. Her eyes filled with tears. “David, I would love to marry you, in fact I cannot envisage life without you but I know a day will come when I must let you go. You need a woman who will give you children. They are not on my agenda and I cannot stand in your way, time will tick on. I am so sorry darling”. He remained on bended knee “I have already made my decision. I have always known the furtherment of your career is paramount and non negotiable. Darling I wouldn’t want to break your spirit.

I love and want only you. Jane I need you”. She wept and threw her arms around him.

“Yes, yes Mr. Hayden, the answer is yes please”. He produced a small box and placed

a ring on her finger. She looked into his eyes. “Let’s celebrate at that new Bistro”.

They settled into married life. Jane felt secure and fulfilled; life had never been better.

David felt blessed; he had found love and companionship.

It was late on a hot humid evening when she returned exhausted from covering the local by-elections. David was in the garden, “Come, relax darling” He poured her a glass of

Wine. She rolled her head back and stared into the starlit sky. He sensed her anxiety. “Something wrong Jane?” She took a sip of wine. “I’ve been asked by News Division in London to apply for the  job of Foreign Correspondent in Africa. Of  course I won’t accept it. The position  would take me away at a moment’s notice and leaving you here. I haven’t forgotten the sacrifice you made for me  and now I must be fair to you. I’ll stay here with Regional News .  It’s non negotiable albeit good to know I made the grade.” . He took a sip of wine and sat back in silence.  She knew he was assessing the situation .  

“Tell you what” he relaxed back with his hands behind his head, “You’ve worked hard for this promotion, it’s in your blood. Let this work for both of us. Apply for the position if you want to. Should you be successful I can take early retirement and buy a small flat in London  where you’ll be based and I’ll  fly out and join you some of the time. Bit of an adventure and we’ll see some of the world. Also we can keep in touch with Skype”.   She felt the weight lift from upon her shoulders. “Oh David, it’s an option. It could

enhance new horizons for us both. Let me think on it”

She applied and accepted the position. David’s plan had served them well. He took early retirement and they moved to London. He joined her frequently. Life was good, adventurous and the world was their oyster.

She was covering the poverty in the Sudan when she heard he news. David had been in a road crash and his life was ‘hanging in the balance’.  The flight back to London was blurred by fearful anticipation. She would now take the helm and fight with him for his survival. 

Her compassionate leave gave her time for quiet reflection. Ambition and career no longer took their part. Priority had now shifted to a new dimension. Yes, she would have David’s child. She knew this was his wish and he would guide her through motherhood.

The birth was an emotional experience. As she cradled her newborn son Sam in her arms

he was a miniature of his father. The same thick hair and a dimple on his chin.

David was thrilled, so proud of them both. She knew he would be. Motherhood embraced her. The new life suckling from her had fuelled an intense bond she could never  forget. David had been right, for this fulfilled her and evaluated her new life within a different  perspective. 

She would sit quietly in the evenings reflecting with David  the joys of the day albeit nearly drifting off through tiredness. His pride shone through and indeed he may have forced her hand but she had made the right decision.

The excitement of the first steps as her little son tried to move towards her. Would they eventually resemble David’s lanky gait?

The tug of emotion at the first full day at the school gate and the familiarities of parenting were helped with  David’s guidance and reassurance. She was thankful for that .

As the years progressed Sam strongly inherited his father’s profile and physique.

Earlier photos of David as a boy were almost identical. Characteristically he had Jane’s single mindedness and strong desire to succeed; a trait David so admired and luckily  harboured his father’s calmness and rational thinking abilities.

Jane eventually eased herself back into the career fold within the Media. Sam, possibly influenced by his mother’s career path studied  Politics at University. A good choice

and two proud parents.

She would always remember his 21^st birthday. Friends he had known from the cradle, School and University had all assembled to mark his historic occasion. She looked round and pondered for this generation would be the future; salesmen, doctors, Personal Trainers, Financiers, Lawyers, Engineers. The country would be in their hands.

The music stopped and an announcement  that Sam wanted to make a speech came over the microphone. He took hold of it and amongst a few quirky jokes thanked all who had shared his special occasion. Lastly he turned to Jane. As he began to thank her she noticed  David had appeared beside him. As he finished his speech his father’s image phased back into his son.

David had died from his injuries the day after the  road crash yet  had lived on through his son.

He had a paranoia regarding a premonition of early death; a trait Jane had deplored yet it had prompted him to leave her a gift in his Last Will and Testament. Unknown to her he had donated frozen sperm. If  the premonition should be his fate she had the option to keep  part of him in their child and he would guide her or perhaps she would wish to move on.

She made her choice and knew it had been the right one.. . .

Monologue

THE SOCIALITE

SCENE

A woman in her late thirties is sitting drinking coffee at a table in the Palm Court of the Ritz hotel.

(SHE LOOKS UP)

I love the Palm Court (she turns her head and surveys its surroundings) very Poirot.

The finest place in London to enjoy coffee and a Danish and embrace its ambience

with a friend or two.

As you can see I have popped in on my own this morning. Nothing planned today

so am whittling away an hour or so to sit and ponder. Actually, you know I heard Harrods have their New Year sale; perhaps I’ll pop over there later.

(SHE SIPS HER COFFEE)

Many would envy me. Money and time on my hands, dinner and drinks’ parties amongst the elite but it can become repetitious. Mind you, next month I’ve got three days in Paris; an invitation from a long standing male friend who calls me over every so often. “Catch up” is what we call it. It’ll be a change and I love Paris; so refined, so chic. Has a Ritz there too.

(SHE TAKES A SMALL COMPACT MIRROR FROM HER HANDBAG)

Just checking my make-up. You know, I always remember my mother’s words, “Anthea, always look your very best. It could do you a good turn one day”. Well, as it happens her advice served me well. I landed a job as a Flight Attendant and for ten glorious years saw the world. Hard going walking the aisles with meals, drinks and Duty Free but when I got onto long haul we stayed at the finest hotels; such an experience. It was during this time I met Robert whilst on a flight out to Japan. He was on a business trip and happened to be staying at the same hotel as the crew. We bumped into each other at the bar. He was out there brokering a multi million pound contract. Well, I’ll cut to the chase. We met up back in London. He lavished me relentlessly with expensive gifts and was so insistent he wanted ME on his arm. What girl wouldn’t have been blown away? We married and of course I enjoyed the wifely trappings of his wealth, rich business associates of high standing, a luxury flat on London’s Embankment and high rise residence in Manhattan. As it happened the marriage only lasted a year and a half. I discovered he was playing away every time he went away so I divorced him.

                                                     -2-

(SHE CHECKED HER WATCH)

Umm Eleven thirty

As I was saying, I fought for a fair share of the settlement especially considering I half reluctantly gave up a career which had got into my blood. He needed me permanently on standby here in London for various city functions so I guess we worked as a team. Anyway, whilst everything was being finalized I took a month’s holiday in the Caribbean. You know how it is! Time to reflect on the future. Go back to work with the Airline and travel again or find somewhere else to settle. I was still only in my mid thirties; still young enough to move on and change course. I would be financially very comfortable; in fact the world was my oyster. It was during this vacation I met a couple of girls, around my age who were taking a break from a successful business venture. They had made enough to afford the high life and had good connections with rich pickings. I had learnt a great deal about life from my flying days but these girls were impressive, successful and self made.

Anyway when the holiday ended we kept in touch. The divorce settlement enabled me to buy a large luxury apartment in Canary Wharf. It was perfect for entertaining and I still love the view.

I have met some wonderful friends here in London mostly wealthy and high powered; some from abroad when in town.

Carole introduced me to a lovely man last week. Poor chap lost his wife a few years ago.

Apparently she had been his world and the lack of female company and comfort was destroying him. Of course I listened to his plight with a genuine sympathetic ear and saw the photos of his lavish beachside home in Mauritius. Indeed it was a temping prospect

but he wasn’t my type. Rather ‘stayed’ I’d say.

Not all is safe  on your own mind.  I was introduced by a friend of a friend to a well known public figure. After a delightful meal at the Savoy one evening I invited him back for coffee. You would imagine someone of such notoriety would be fine.  My God, he was a Jekyll and Hyde. Got rather nasty to say the least and started to get violent. Thankfully I managed to edge my way over to the alarm panic button. Help arrived whilst he still had me pinned to the wall. It was only a few bruises. I didn’t call the Police; on the contrary, I just wanted him out. Of course I kept my silence.

(SHE SHUDERS AN THEN PULLS A LIST FROM HER HANDBAG)

Shoes, wonder if they’ve got those lovely high stiletto Italian shoes in Harrods’s sale. …..

                                                           -3-

 

Always a must stilettos.  Give the leg line a lovely shape and the ultimate in feminine sensuality. …….. loved them. Think that’s how I ‘bagged’ him.  Best investment I ever made.

(SHE LAUGHS)    

Dior. Moisturizers and perfumes. My word doesn’t it make a dent in he bank account. Always bought that in Duty Free when with the Airline.  I’m running out so haven’t time to wait until going through on the Paris flight.

Lingerie. Always a good time after Christmas to stock up. I’ll hunt around. The finest stores always have a surplus of their exquisite ranges. One can never have too much.

(HER MOBILE RINGS IN HER HANDBAG)

Oh excuse me one moment.

(SHE FIDDLES TO THE BOTTOM OF HER HANDBAG)

Oh dash where is it?

(IT GOES ONTO ANSWERPHONE)

Hello Anthea, It’s High Profile Escorts.  Can I book you for Mr. Fitzgerald tonight.?

(SHE LOOKS UP UNCOMFORTABLY)

Oh must dash!

(AND SWIFTLY BECKONS THE WAITER FOR THE BILL)   

   

CLOSE CURTAINS

  

  

SHORT STORY

TRUE COLOURS

She was dressed in virgin white awaiting her walk down the isle on her Father’s arm.

As she watched the old recording of her wedding Vicky sipped her coffee.  She remembered looking through the veil as she made her way towards the two brothers.

Luke, tall and handsome, yet vain, irresponsible and ruthless. Jeremy the complete opposite was shorter and sturdy in build, though clever, kinder and reliable. She had courted them both and common sense had told her that the unassuming Jeremy would suit her needs as husband material.

She took a deep breath and sighed for twenty five years had passed. Her thoughts interrupted by the soft feel of a hand upon her shoulder, “You looked lovely darling, still do”.  She hadn’t heard Jeremy enter the room. “I just saw it on the shelf and felt the urge to watch it “she said embarrassingly. “Silly isn’t it. Tomorrow will be the beginning of a new chapter. We’ve done well in making our fortune and now as you always wished you retire today at 50.  Happy Birthday Jeremy”.  He looked into her eyes and held her, “Yes indeed, all the time in the world now. James is at Uni and Samantha is married so we can

travel and explore all those dreams”.  She turned off the remote, “Must press on for tonight’s celebrations”. He refilled the caffeteire, “More coffee Vicky?”  She paused, “No I’m fine thank you, I need to get to the salon, check the Caterers are on schedule and collect your suit from he dry cleaners; a busy morning”. She picked up her handbag, “See you later”.     

He took her cup and placed it in the dish washer and wandered out onto the patio. Sunshine and showers had been the forecast. He prided himself on convincing her to spend the extra and hire a marquee; British weather would always be unpredictable. His thoughts distracted by the ring tone from his mobile. “Hi Dad, Happy Birthday, I’m leaving on the at 4.30 from here and will catch a cab from the station. Will be with you about 6.30”. “That’s great James, Look forward to seeing you, take care”.

Life had been good. He had built up a multi million businesses from his expertise

within the publishing business, produced two wonderful children and had an attractive wife who constantly  encouraged him to fulfill his ambitions. Albeit too much at times

he thought though perhaps in hindsight he needed that “push.

His mobile rang again, “Jeremy, just to let you I’ve checked with the Caterers and they’ll be with us at five, I’m out of the salon and have just a few things to get. I’ll be home in about an hour”. 

He looked at his watch. One o’clock. Time for a shower and relax with a Scotch. A busy time lay ahead once preparations began.

Vicky arrived home. Hair and nails immaculate and her face glowing from the facial.

She went upstairs and hung her husband’s suit on the wardrobe door and felt the softness

of the long red silk dress she would wear. She knew she had to look good and she would,  for it  enhanced her fine slim frame. As she opened the safe she selected the accompanying jewellery.

The day was gathering speed. The Caterers arrived and the final preparations in place.

Samantha arrived with her husband early. “Do you need a hand mum?” “That’s kind of you but  I believe we are just about  ready. By the way darling, you look lovely and Nick you look rather dapper. Go and grab a drink”. Jeremy’s mobile rang, “Hi Dad, just to let you know I’m five minutes away”.

“Jeremy, we need to get changed”. As she slid into the silk dress Jeremy looked at her longingly, “You look amazing, in fact stunning”. She could see his eyes fill with emotion.

“You don’t look so bad yourself; let’s go down and get a drink. She could feel her own excitement and it gave her butterflies.

It was a fine evening and guests began to arrive. As the champagne flowed so did the  conversation.  This was not only Jeremy’s retirement celebration but a huge thank you to those who had done business with him in the publishing world.

Vicky circulated and  began o relax. The alcohol had obliterated  the adrenalin which had so engulfed her. Jeremy excitedly beckoned her over. “Vicky, Luke and ……

Sorry I didn’t’ catch your name have  arrived.”  Vicky felt the blood drain from her.

Luke had brought one of his many young flimsy girls with him. She gathered composure,

So this was his latest conquest; she wouldn’t last long, they never did.  “Hello Luke,  lovely to see you and lovely to meet you too. If you don’ mind I must circulate”. As she turned to walk away she noticed his eyes following her. Yes, he was as attentive and charismatic as always.

Jeremy requested to make a speech. “Thank you all for joining me on this very special occasion. I would like to say how wonderful it has been doing business with you  all. Your support and loyalty have been much appreciated over the years and from the bottom of my heart it has been a pleasure. None of this would have been possible without

the love and dedication from my family especially Vicky my darling wife. Would you please be upstanding for a toast to Vicky and give her three cheers. Now for the surprise!

He turns to Vicky, “Darling, the day after tomorrow we are going on a Caribbean Cruise.

Start as we mean to go on”. Vicky felt the panic rise. She was notably shaken. Her head spun but she managed to gain composure. She forced a smile and kissed him on his cheek. Their guests duly applauded loudly. James began singing “He’s a jolly good fellow” and  the others followed suit. His sister Samantha beamed with pride and happiness.

It had been a successful evening. The guests had left and Jeremy was happy though a tad over the top with  alcohol. Vicky was both frantic and furious. They made their way up to the bedroom. She couldn’t contain herself. The thought of being with Jeremy away on her own on a cruise and the rest of her life was too much to bear. Neither was she pleased that he had paid out so much money on the expedition. Jeremy lay on the bed. Vicky raised her voice “Why all that money on a cruise Jeremy, why?”  He slurred his words “Oh come on Vic we always said we would do it” then fell asleep.

Vicky had other plans, for hey had sold the business but the money was still banked until Jeremy sort financial advice on how to invest it. That morning whilst out at the Salon and Dry Cleaners she had cleared the account.

 At two o’clock in the mooning Jeremy was fast asleep . She crept downstairs and picked up her mobile. “Hi Luke, I’m ready with the airline tickets and money. Enough to set us up in the South of France.

It had taken 25 years, from the moment she walked down the isle to hold her promise to Luke. It had been contrived by them both and had shown their true colours.  

  

e prided himself HHHHHH

THE OTHER SIDE

PART 5  (FINAL)

Tom began to recover and gain strength. His appreciation aside he could not fail to see Beth in a different light. He watched her with intensity for she would hold the key to unlock his troubled mind. Sleep did not come easy. Within the early hours one morning he awoke startled. His mind in turmoil he remembered Beattie had a sister Milly. He would keep his own counsel until it was time to leave. Inquisition tormented him for this was too much of a coincidence.

Beth knew in her heart she could not loose him for he was her father and benefactor. Unbeknown to each other they were piecing together the truth.

Milly was making breakfast one morning. Beth entered the kitchen, “Good morning Milly”. Milly pointed to the freshly brewed pot of tea, “Good morning lass, just brewed. By the way I think it’s time we found somewhere for Tom to move on. He is getting up and around the house now. I will miss his company, He’s a fine man but we need to get back to normal; I should be back at the Centre full time”. Beth could feel the panic rise and tried to catch her breath,

“Yes I realise that Milly, give me a couple of weeks and I’ll find him somewhere”. She needed time to think and consider her line of action.

Tom had taken a fondness to Milly. He knew she would be the one he could

confide in and would approach her gently with his unanswered questions.

Milly was baking scones for the Centre when he entered the kitchen, “Would you like me to put the kettle on; have a break?” Milly turned round, “Good idea, I’ll just pop these in the oven and they can bake”. As they sat at the table Tom fidgeted nervously with anticipation, “You know Milly I am much in your and Beth’s debt for looking after me, I’d have been back on the streets by now my dear. I’ll find shelter somewhere; you both need to get your lives back to normality”. Milly sipped her tea and placed the cup back on is saucer, “Beth will sort something out for you and you’ll always be welcome here to drop in. Yes I need to get back with Beth at the Centre but I’ll miss our chats”.

Tom took his wallet out from his pocket for now was the moment, “You know Milly I consider it only decent I should tell you a bit about myself. He drew his tattered photograph of Beattie and Beth from the wallet, “My dear I believe your name is Potterton, I was not prying but noticed it on some paperwork you had been completing one morning. May I be so bold as to enquire if you know of this lady?

Perhaps a distant family member? Her name is Beattie and I fathered the little girl along with a twin brother”.  Milly felt the colour drain from her face, she felt weak and confused yet managed to keep composure and listened. “You see Milly, owing to personal status I was unable to marry her. She fought to keep the girl but unfortunately the boy was taken in by a wealthy family to be educated, which I funded. It was a family decision and one taken out of my control in my circle. I loved their mother for she was beautiful and flamboyant yet kindly and gentle. Of course I had to marry and managed to produce two sons but it was a miserable existence. The marriage was disastrous and when they came of age I walked away. Of course I was disinherited from the family Estate which left me penniless but I will find a job and accommodation; get back on my feet”.

Milly needed time to gather her thoughts for he wanted answers, “Just let me check the scones Tom, I think they’re ready”.  The truth was now out full circle

She took out the scones and placed them to cool on he rack, “I will have a word with Beth tonight and see if she has heard of a Beattie Potterton, leave the photograph with me”. Tom passed it across, “Thank you Milly, I’ll go upstairs and read, I’ve taken far too much of your time”. It was only then that Milly remembered him, of course he had aged but yes the face was familiar.

Beth arrived home earlier than usual. Milly looked pale. “Milly are you unwell?”

Milly beckoned her to sit down, “I have something to tell you lass and I don’t know how you will take this”. She showed Beth the photograph. “From where did you get this Milly?” “Tom showed it to me this afternoon. He asked if we knew her. Beth you have this photo of your mother also, I don’t know how to say this but he is your father”. Beth was unparsed. “Yes I know Milly, I knew when he fell at the Centre. I looked for ID  and found his card, Lord Rothbury, that’s why he is here”.Milly angered, “You never mentioned it to me, how could you”. Beth gently touched her arm, “I am so sorry, I was so shocked and would have told you eventually. I was terrified he would die and wasn’t sure of your reaction to him being here”. Beth burst in to tears. Milly cradled her in her arms. “Its ok Beth but I have something else to tell you, you were a twin and have a brother”.  Beth held on tightly to her Aunt, “We must find him. Please call Tom and bring my photo down, it’s in the top drawer in my room.”

Milly felt unsteady as she climbed the stairs. She found Beth’s identical photograph. “Tom can you come down please?” As he entered the parlour he found Beth sobbing and saw Milly give her the photograph. “This is my mother and I knew when I bought you here that you were my father”  Tears filled his eyes, “Where is your mother Beth, I must find her?” “She died from pneumonia about a year ago”, Beth wiped away the burning tears with a soft cotton handkerchief, “Is it true I have a brother, a twin? Tome looked into her eyes, “Yes my dear, your mother fought to keep you but he was taken in by a wealthy family. It was not my doing; it was the family. I loved your mother Beth but couldn’t marry her. It would have brought disgrace and detrimental gossip to the family. I did marry

because it was the thing to do but it couldn’t work”.

Beth brushed the hair away from her face, “Then we must find my brother”/

Tom fidgeted nervously, I still have the address of where he was brought up.”.

“Well, in that case I shall make a visit” Beth said forcefully. “I will go

Tomorrow” . Tom looked anxious, “He should have his inheritance too; I wanted you both to inherit at eighteen. It was the least I could do.”

The next day Beth made her way to No.5 Cadogan Square, Knightsbridge.

She knocked on the door. A woman, well groomed in her mid forties opened the door. Beth took a deep breath, “I hope you will not mind but I am looking for James Rothbury”. “He is no longer here, please do not call again” and the door closed. Beth sobbed and made her way back along the square. A woman stopped her, “Are you all right my dear, can I help?” Still sobbing and barely able to speak

Beth said, “I was looking for a James Rothbury. He is my brother”. “Come with me, I may be able to help. The woman lived only a few doors away. She poured Beth a small Brandy. “Now my dear what is your name?” Gaining composure Beth said “My name is Beth”. “Well Beth, James did live here until he was eighteen. I believe he was due an inheritance and in fact he did get it but his foster parents at No.5 got hold of It  soon after from his bank account by forging his signature.  Disgusting couple they are; not popular around here. He moved into a bedsit in Hackney. I heard from him a couple of months ago, he keeps in touch, saw him grow up. Here take his address. Such a lovely boy but his foster parents thieved and left him penniless.”. Beth breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you so very much, I shall go there now”.

Beth arrived at the address in Hackney. The area brought back memories of squalor, depravity, the child eating a crust on the curb and the stray hungry dog. Nervously she knocked on the door. A scruffy long haired young man opened it. She observed his features, a younger version of her father. “I am looking for a James Rothbury and have this address. Does he live here please?” “I am James” came a well educated and quietly spoken voice”.  Beth felt her heart pounding. “I am your twin sister”. The young man looked shaken, “Oh yes” he punched the air and hugged her. “I knew you existed but never thought I’d find you; I wouldn’t have known where to begin, this is unbelievable”. They continued crying and held each other tightly. “James, do you have a telephone?” “There is a pay phone in the hallway here”. Beth opened her purse for coins and called a taxi. “Will you come with me, I beg you please and I will pay a taxi back for you.?” He slipped on a tatty anorak.

They arrived at Beth’s house in Chelsea. She excitedly put her key in the door.

Shaking with emotion she called Tom. “Tom, please meet your son and my brother. The puzzle was complete.    

   

SONNET

DEDICATED WITH LOVE TO JOHN MARLOW          04/02/2014

(With Iambic Pentameter)

WINTER LOVE

Winter is nigh, dark days, cold winds will blow

Cold frosty mornings laced in ice and snow.

Snowflakes flutter, so delicate and new

They kiss my face; I am sure it is you.

Icicles form like glass chandeliers

Hanging down in structure from tier to tier.

Fresh laden snow like the first love I knew

So beautiful, so pure; “I had found you”.

The days are short, darkness falls and it’s bleak

I hear your voice; my heart lifts when we speak.

Love brings out the beauty in all that I see

My first and real love you’ll forever be.

The fireside glows; it’s superfluous to me

For YOUR FIRE in my heart will always be.

THE OTHER SIDE

PART 4

Beth’s days were filled with the endless pursuit of her father’s survival.

Dr. Foster’s visits did little to cheer her.  He shook his head, “If he recovers it will be a slow process. His immune system is low; often the case when they live on the streets. We can only keep him stable. I’ll call in tomorrow”. He raised his hat, “Good day to you”.

She returned to the kitchen, boiled the kettle and made tea. The warmth and smell of the brew soothed her.  In the quietness she could asses the situation for she was sure he would have family. They should be informed yet for her this was a dangerous liaison and it couldn’t fall upon her shoulders to do so.

Milly frequently returned home late from the Centre. She had undertaken Beth’s senior responsibilities and hired extra staff to cope with the excess visitors brought in by the bitterly cold winter. One evening Milly looked pale, tiredness was taking its toll. Beth noticed and began to worry. “Aunt Milly, you are tired. After supper retire straight to bed and tomorrow we will have to re-assess the situation”.

Beth had a restless night and a secret she dare not share yet Milly was carrying a far too heavy burden. Perhaps she could undertake some days at the Centre to allow Milly some time at home. Tom slept most of the time and Beth could take over when she got home.

As the dawn came in Beth got dressed. She laid a tray and took Milly’s breakfast to her. Milly sat up, “You needn’t do that lass, you’ve got yourself and Tom to see to”. “No”

replied Beth. “I should have realized, you are taking on far too much. Stay home with Tom today and I’ll go to the Centre. Dr. Forster will call and  give you instruction on his medication. I did a new Broth yesterday. It’s all he can manage but good nourishment”.

The weeks passed and Tom was gaining strength. Indeed he would now survive  the near fatal  odds which had taken hold.  Beth looked into her father’s eyes. No longer dull and tired but clear and bright. She made her way down to the kitchen and found Milly  

preparing his breakfast tray. “Milly, Tom is doing well; for sure he’ll make a full recovery. I’m so thankful and I am much in your debt”. Milly took hold of the tray, “Actually lass I’ve grown quite attached to him. He is quiet and gentlemanly but never gives any indication as to his situation. God forbid he’ll go back on the streets. There are sheltered accommodations for the homeless. That’s a thought. Beth can you bring some donated clothes home at lunchtime. It’s time he got out of bed and sit down here by the fire for afternoon tea”. Beth was enlightened by his steady recovery but knew she would have to ‘way lay’ his final departure. She couldn’t let him walk away back into depravity. “Yes I’ll fetch some clothes back during the lunch break; it’ll be a rush but good thinking Milly, see you later”. 

Beth kept to her word. Milly heard her key in the front door and boiled he kettle. “Sit yourself down and have a bite to eat. I’ve baked some fresh rolls and scones”. Beth passed across a large bag of clothing. “Second hand and donated but freshly laundered, something should fit Tom”.

As always  afternoon tea was four o’clock. Milly made her way up to the bedroom and found him stirring. She gently placed her hand on his, “Tom, I believe now is the time you should start to dress and move around. It will further aid your recovery and bring some normality and routine. Why don’t you go through these clothes and come downstairs for afternoon tea by the fire”.  He gently smiled, “Thank you, how kind to invite me to your parlour for tea dear lady. I will find something to wear and though a tad shaky on my feet will be down.

As he stood on the landing she noticed how dapper he looked in a smart navy blue blazer and beige trousers. She helped him down to the parlour and sat him by the fireside. Afternoon tea was an enjoyable experience. General pleasantries were exchanged and Milly enjoyed Tom’s tales of his travels years ago. She gathered he had been an ordinary adventurous young man.

He began to look tired. Milly took his arm and helped him back to the bedroom to rest.

As she went to close the door she noticed a familiar photo on the floor: Beth as a young baby with her mother. Beth had cleared out the wardrobe earlier that day to make space for items of clothing he may wish to keep.

Beth arrived home tired yet excited to learn if Tom had made it downstairs. Milly smiled, “Yes it was a good exercise. He is still unsteady but the strength is there, He enlightened me about his travels as a young man; quite a character once I’d say. However he tired quickly so he is back resting. Oh by the way I found this photo of yours. You must have dropped it from the wardrobe whilst clearing It at lunchtime. Beth became flustered for she knew her own copy was safely in a box with a key. She thought Milly had known that. The same photo on the floor must have dropped out of Tom’s tatty wallet. Somehow

she had to get the photo back in to his wallet before he missed it and enquired if it had been found. Milly mustn’t know nor must he; not yet.

Tom enjoyed afternoon tea in the parlour. The routine was good for his well being.

Milly had undertaken responsibility of he Center’s ministration paperwork at home. It would take he strain off Beth. She preferred the quietness and always completed it by midday. Beth insisted she kept it tucked away out of sight for confidentiality business reasons even though she had her own reasons. Tom may know the name Potterton which would be on it.

Millie was preparing afternoon tea when the doorbell rang. Tom was warming his hands by the fireside; “I’ll get the door” he called out. As he opened it a gruff voice took him aback. “Excuse me mate, I have a large packet for a Miss Beth Potterton . Tom had never enquired as to Beth or Millie’s surnames. He thought it too intrusive being he would only be there a short time. He stammered, “Can you repeat the name again?.” “Beth Potterton mate”, came the reply. Millie emerged from the kitchen, ” Oh, it’s only stationery, Yes I need It here, where do I sign?”.

Tom ate very little tea. “Are you feeling all right” Milly quipped. Yes I am fine thank you,I  just feel a little peaky, would you excuse me if I retired?”

He lay on the bed. Potterton!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Could these people be related to my beloved Beattie. Can I find her?

….

When Beth came home she knocked on his door and entered the room. He looked into her eyes, her strong cheekbones and thick wavy hair looked strangely familiar.

 .

  

Monologue

SUCCESS HOLDS A PRICE

SCENE

A woman in her early sixties makes her way out to the patio of her Villa in the South of France carrying a tray with a Cafftiere and a single mug. She places it on a small Bistro table and looks up at the early morning sun which is beginning its journey across the bay.

(She pours a mug of black coffee from the Cafeteire and looks up)

“I had my fortune told when I was nineteen and yes I heard exactly what I wanted to hear.

It is moneyed here and glamorous. Not that I was ever a glamorous kind of girl; in fact quite the opposite”. (She flicks her shoulder length hair back from her face). “I’ll tie it back later in the manner I’ve always done from the very beginning. Makeup! Perhaps I had a tad on my wedding day but otherwise never.

It’s always been the same; trousers or jeans unless the occasion begged for the formality of a dress or skirt.

I was incredibly thin until I reached the age of thirty. By some awful assumed hereditary gene my body transformed itself into a large pear shape. Yes, I was bothered but success, power and wealth were the most attractive attributes in a woman and they were my ultimate goals. As you can see (she gestures her hand across the bay) fortune teller was “spot on”.

David, my husband is having his usual lie-in. I sometimes wonder why he bothers to get up. I met him at the age of sixteen whilst I was working as a cashier at the local supermarket. He worked for the local Council as a Labourer on road maintenance. Of course I never intended to let him go. He was an easy going lad, not exactly a ‘push over’ but I could manoeuvre him round to my way of thinking,

Yes, I had rivals for his attentions but I always saw to that. I remember one Monday evening after a hectic weekend we decided to spend the evening apart, him at home with his parents and me at home with mine. That particular night Stuart and Helen, a couple of mutual friends called in. I said he was at home with his parents and would phone him.  Well, ‘blow me down’, his father said he had gone out.  We decided to go for a drink.  ‘Low and behold’ we walked into a local Pub and there was David with another girl.

I sensed the look on everyone’s face; sheer embarrassment I can tell you. It didn’t do much for me either

but it cost him a few bob with two of us to pay for. We stayed and I sat her out. Sorted! she was soon off the scene!!!!!! (She laughs) “Getting a bit hot now, the suns moved round” (She tilts the umbrella, sits back down and sips more coffee)

“I was strong and determined; that’s why we’re here now.   

At nineteen I got a clerical job in a bank; today it has grown into one of the major giants. I was on good terms with the Manager and I did quite a bit of running about for him. Of course I had ‘ideas of grandeur’

This was a step up for me from the supermarket. Nevertheless it made me feel important though I must admit I exaggerated the job to my friends. It gave me that superior buzz.

                                                                         

(She turns and looks at the climbing rose on the wall) “Must get Pierre to cut that back a bit when

he next comes round to do the garden)

Stuart’s girlfriend Helen was a classy and smart girl. You know, private education and her own car at eighteen and a job in Television.   She and I were entirely opposites. I was feisty, she was placid and had ‘little backbone’ but apart from that she was the type I wanted to be around with socially. In fact I envied her good fortune in life and almost disliked her. I saw her as a threat for she had the ‘edge over me’ and would go far. 

We both married our respective partners. It took ages to get David to commit but after much hinting from me woke up and thought he was eventually ready. One thing Helen and I did have in common was that neither of us had any desire for children. I clung desperately to fulfill my ambition as a successful self made business woman and children would hold me back. That was never going to happen. David would have loved children but respected my views. Child rearing always fell upon the woman’s domain. Helen could never leave her love of the television industry. Childcare was not easy to find in those days unless one employed a nanny... But oh whoops!!!!!!! Helen became pregnant and that ended her dream. I bought David a dog. He idolized her; she was his baby, job done!

I went to clay making classes and not long after started up a ‘cottage industry’ in the garage at home. I made urns, vases, candle holders, different shaped vessels for the catering industry and more. It was a chance and as luck would have it began to earn a decent income. Business was beginning to flourish and David gave up his job with the Council on the roads. As business came our way I was always at the helm whether it be talking business or entertaining both influential and prospective clientele. In those days the mainstream was a man’s world and I needed to be in feisty, in control,  financially negotiable yet charming.

My brother Steve’s two children were like our own and of course David had Rusty; his beloved King Charles Spaniel. They were all spoilt rotten; holidays abroad with us twice a year. Of course we had a ready made family. How lucky was that!  

We lost touch with Helen and Stuart; it wasn’t on our part. They struggled financially went through a rocky patch with Helen’s despair from sacrificing the working environment and world she so loved for the duties of motherhood. However I heard she had later undertaken a career in another direction and went to the top. I was quite surprised; didn’t know she had it in her. Apparently they have several grand children together and I would suppose in hindsight were glad fate turned its hand. The up-turn is that they at least have their own flesh and blood albeit a constant drain on resources.

                                                                      

Well, as you can see we made it.” (She gestured her hand at the villa and drank her last sip of coffee)

  

Of course we invited all our business friends out here now we are retired. One or two came across at first but of course you know how it is, when daily business ceases you somehow lose touch or they are too busy. It’s a shame really because we assumed some of them would remain lifelong friends.” (She stops and listens) “I think I can hear David, it’s about time. He’ll be at the midday wine. Becoming a habit and a bit of a worry but as he says “We are in France”

In fact my sister Liz phoned last night, She and her family have joined us for Christmas since we’ve been here for the past two years, Apparently they have booked to go for Spain this year with in-laws.  My brother Steve and his wife stay in England as the children are getting older and want to be with their friends...

Ummm (she drums her fingers on the table).  “Think we’ll get to know the local villagers at last.

They have several Christmas activities and perhaps even buy another dog.

(She takes a look at the sun worshippers flocking to the beach, picks up the tray and walks back into the villa)

.

                                                                         

SHORT STORY                                THE HIDING PLACE

The dull clouds covered the sky like a shroud and the winter chill cut into the air with a biting coldness.

Fiona walked the street in search for  basement flat at no.72.

Uncle Tom had been a recluse since retiring from teaching. As a young man he had back-packed and hosteled the world. The poverty and depravity he witnessed  had never left him. He hated Beaurocrats. They creamed money from the country;  its people were starving.

He couldn’t abide the wastage of money. In fact he had become paranoid and over cautious albeit his salary as a teacher was modest enough to afford a reasonably comfortable lifestyle for himself.eH “Over indulgence” he would say. He had made a conscious decision never to marry. That would be a fruitless venture which would force him into buying property and would incur great financial loss should the marriage fail.

Fiona’s father had been his Next of Kin and sole Executor to his Will.  He had passed away two years previously leaving him only one choice. He nominated Fiona his Next of Kin and also Executor to his will  alongside her sister Jane.  They had never visited his flat before; no-one had. Upon his demise Fiona had been given his  keys to commence the necessary ‘clear out’ duties. She walked down the basement steps and looked at the keys. One for the security lock, one for the Yale and another for wherever it would be needed. She unlocked the door pushing it with force as her entry was obscured by a stack of post. The flat was dingy, dark and smelt musty. She remembered the rare occasions Uncle Tom had joined family gatherings. He never failed to enlighten those present that his only requirements were a small bed-sit, kitchen and shared upstairs bathroom. “More than adequate for my needs” he would say.   She gasped as she entered.. A couple of old blankets covered the windows, a dirty thread bear carpet was pieced together by gaffer tape and an old well worn electric fire was his only means of warmth.. It  was indeed cluttered and a single bed in the corner was covered in tatty “rag like” bedding.

Jane would be arriving soon. Fiona’s mobile rang. “Hi Fi, I’m here. Can you open the door?” Upon entering, Jane looked bewildered, “Oh my God, what a pigsty! We knew Uncle Tom was tight; not even a Birthday or Christmas card but this is ‘beyond the pale’ living like this”. Fiona guided her to the other door, “This must be the kitchen; I believe he said he shared the bathroom upstairs”. She opened it; it was sparse to say the least. A table top electric oven sat on the worktop alongside a two burner camping stove and calor gas bottle. On the wall was a slot electric meter. “No washing machine”, Jane quipped, “But then again I suspect he used the Launderette”. “There’s little to turn out for the Landlord”, Fiona said relieved. Jane pondered, “Um. Just the Estate to tie-up. He lived a very frugal lifestyle so he was obviously penniless although he must have brought in a reasonable salary whilst in the teaching profession. It must have gone somewhere” Jane looked up at the single hanging light bulb “I reckon some was used for traveling and the remainder given  to the poor.  He had an obsessive issue with poverty and how it came about. “The deed of greedy, evil Beaurocratcs,” he would say. Yes, it’s probably gone abroad and if that was his choice then fair play to him” she said. Fiona agreed, “A good thing to do with your life; help others but to live like this! ! I would make us some coffee but it would mean boiling water from a saucepan on the calor gas and I think he only drank tea”.  Jane picked up her handbag. “I wouldn’t want one here anyway, the place isn’t that clean.  I’m going to Starbucks. I’ll bring a couple of lattes and our favourite chocolate doughnuts back”.

Left by herself Fiona pulled up a chair at the shabby kitchen table. First things first she thought and scooped up the post. There was a heap of ‘junk mail; a final Council Tax demand, a few personal handwritten letters from friends and a white envelope.  As she turned it over she noticed the Harrods logo.                                                              

“Harrods!!!” intriguingly she opened it. It was a receipt for the first payment of  £30,000. She looked puzzled. “I’m back Fi; time for a break” Jane called out. Fiona didn’t flinch, “Err yes thanks Jane, hey take a look at this” “An invoice for a Chesterfield, TV Screen and entertainment system”.                              

“There must be a mistake Fi. Uncle Tom was practically penniless unless  there is something we don’t know.  Fiona looked at the delivery address. “ Hilary Davies, 202 Latchfield Road, South Kensington.

Oh what a silly old fool, that’s the woman friend he mentioned. I believe she had several admirers and our Uncle Tom must have gone in the running as the highest bidder for her attention.  She will have the goods by now He wouldn’t waste money on such luxuries for himself.”  The freshly brewed coffee and doughnuts were a welcome treat. They threw the cups and paper bags into the kitchen bin. Jane began to panic, “There won’t be enough in the estate to pay for this; what was he doing?” Fiona also looked concerned, “Oh Jane, as Executors it will be our responsibility to ensure this is payed off and the family can’t help out!. We’ll end up in Court.  Mark and I are  paying for Lucy to go to Uni in September so we can’t pay any of it off”. Jane looked agitated, “David and I are taking Clarissa and George to Disneyworld. We’ve promised them for years and have taken out a loan so don’t look at me”. Both tension and fear were beginning to rise.

Fiona picks up her handbag, “I'm going home to think about this. It’s left us with one hell of a problem”  She looks at the bunch of keys; and still hadn’t ascertained what the third was for but that could wait for another day. She passed a small door in the hallway which she assumed was a broom cupboard. It had a small lock. She tried the third key.  It opened , she turned on a switch and steps  led her downwards. . She beckoned her sister down. “It’s a cellar Jane!!.  

A large Beer barrel stood against the wall caught  Fiona’s gaze. “That’s an old one”, she goes over to it and tries to feel its heaviness. “It’s full; didn’t know Uncle Tom liked Beer”. Jane takes a look “Turn it around a bit; there seems to be a hole around the back” Fiona squeezes her hand through the hole and pulls out an envelope. She opens it to find it full of £50 notes. There is another envelope and another. In fact the entire barrel is full. This barrel was the hiding place for his stash.

“Looks like the problem’s solved” Fiona said excitedly. “We’ll have to pay Harrods in full and I’m sure Uncle Tom wouldn’t like the Taxman getting to this. There could be well over a quarter of a million here. He hated Bearocrats and no-one knows about this only us”.

THE OTHER SIDE

PART THREE

Beth sought sound financial advice. She bought a small Georgian style house for herself and her aunt within the smarter area of Chelsea. Her invested assets would

Profit and afford her a wealthy standard of living. With a heavy heart she resigned

from her job at the Department Store. Her conscience forbade her to keep a job she didn’t financially require. The position could be filled by another who genuinely needed it to put food on the table and anyway it was unacceptable for women of high financial standing to ‘earn their keep’.

Her days were filled socializing within the grander houses of the Chelsea elite, sometimes accompanied by Millie if she wished to join her. The enormity of its lifestyle; homes adorned with Chandeliers, pure velvet drapes and  cut class crystal drinking vessels overflowing at luncheons/ dinner/cocktail parties. The social learning curve of etiquette was a steep one but one she found curious albeit a tad pretentious.  If in doubt she could rely on her aunt for guidance.

She gave little away for she had sworn on oath to protect the anonyminity of her father.

When asked about her background she said she was he daughter of a city banker, went to boarding school and was finally set up by her parents in London with her aunt. Her father and mother had moved to New York as he had landed a career move he couldn’t refuse and Beth wished to stay in London. The usual ‘tittle tattle’ and social climbing irritated Beth though at times she felt an undercurrent of belittlement from them. She hadn’t travelled the world on cruise liners or couldn’t name drop the rich and famous. She pondered, if only they knew her true circumstances, yet they never would. In fact she had little in common apart from her wealth and the odd shopping trip to Harrods. She had seen the other side of life and out of choice was modest with her expenditures. Perhaps

she would fill some time traveling; see the world.

Early one morning as she pulled open the drapes a young paper boy with a bicycle on the pavement below caught her eye. It brought back memories of the small boy in tatters chewing a crust, the stray hungry dog and the rancid smell of the dirty street.  Why?, she asked herself, are some born into such poverty whilst the rich squandered so much in their quest for superiorship and possessions?

Beth saw the raw light of reality. She had a calling, had to help the less fortunate. She had fallen on good luck by birthright but she had an affinity with them, she knew how it was, seen it and lived amongst it.

She discussed it with Milly though her aunt knew Beth was determined and was happy to support her.

Beth bought a ‘run down’ unused hall, had it renovated and with Milly’s help opened a

Soup kitchen and rest room. Its visitors and regulars were hungry, homeless, shabby, unclean and unshaven.  Every face was ‘well worn’ and told a story.

Sam a regular shuffled in one night, his shoes worn and the cardboard lining them disintegrating. Beth stared in disbelief and turned to her aunt. “We need warm blankets,

and spare clothing”.  Milly took off the old man’s shoes “Let’s see what we can do with these to patch them up. There’s plenty of moneyed folk around these parts who throw out decent clothing, such a waste, I’ll put word out”.

Beth looked forward to opening the soup kitchen at night. It gave her purpose and she had found her vocation. During the day she would sometimes bake, not only did she find it relaxing but it was a luxury for those who dropped in for some warm food later.

It was a Monday night and a bitter mid winter chill had taken hold. “We’ll be busy tonight lass”, Millie said as she turned on the hot food burners. The door swung open.

Tom, a regular staggered through the door. He was of quiet nature, well spoken, polite and a private individual.  He never gave rhyme nor reason for his misfortune. Beth saw him sway. “Steady on Tom, a bit too much tonight? Unusual for you”.  He fell to the floor. As she went to his aid she realized he was gravely ill. “Call a doctor, something’s wrong. Could be a heart attack or pneumonia”.  She picked up his rucksack. “I don’t like going through his possessions but I need to see if he has any contacts or family”.  She found a small wallet and opened it. It contained a small tatty card embossed with a crest.

The name was familiar; Lord Thomas Gainsborough. A faded  photo fell out into Beth’s hand.. As she looked closer the image became familiar; a young beautiful woman…………her mother!!!!!! She turned around and gazed into the eyes of her father.