* * *
Insulted by Richard’s disparagement of his intro piece Raphael set about creating a new piece using shushing sounds generated by synthesisers. Getting more creative in the empty music shop he recorded other sounds played through effect units and noise gates linked to drum machines. The sound turned into something like a cheering crowd. Finally he recorded his own voice saying, Blink and you’ll miss it.
After poly Amy could only think of the dramas that lay ahead of Barbara not just with the parents she’d not seen in decades but Katherine’s horrible dad, and her having to face her new boss.
Arriving at the flat after Calvin, Amy having been sworn to secrecy told him Barbara had caught a train but not which one.
Shortly after 6pm she dressed for a run. Calvin offered to join her for safety but she told him she’d stick to well-lit areas.
Amy found a phone away from street noise near to Katherine’s pub. She dialled the number still on the back of her hand and prepared for the unknown. The phone rang for ages during which time it occurred to Amy that if Barbara had chickened out she wouldn’t even be there. Not wanting to shock elderly people by asking for their long lost daughter Amy made to put the phone down.
She heard it pick up just before the receiver went down.
‘Hello,’ Amy said flustered at the lady’s posh accent. ‘Am I talking to Barbara’s daughter?’
The voice chuckled. ‘This is Barbara’s mother, not daughter dear.’
‘Oh, of course. My name’s Amy; a friend. She’s not, by chance, there is she?’
‘Barbara’s been expecting your call. I’ll put her on.’
Barbara came to the phone as the pips went so suggested Amy read the number from the dial phone’s dial. Barbara rang straight back.
Picking up Amy said, ‘Oh my god, how are you?’
‘I’m fine,’ she said sounding calmer than Amy could have imagined.
Barbara explained how she’d landed on her parent’s doorstep and received a prodigal daughter’s welcome. They’d spent hours filling in the lost years before Barbara admitted how wrong she’d been and how right they’d been about Alan. Despite their loathing of Alan, Barbara had been listened to without condescension.
‘I’m delighted they welcomed you,’ Amy said. ‘But what was their excuse for not contacting you in twenty-five years?’
‘They disagreed with my decision to marry Alan. Avoiding the wedding was their last attempt at influence. But they had said their door was always open.’ Her voice flattened. ‘Guess that detail got lost in my pride.’
‘Kind of an important one.’
‘The past few weeks have been so different – having a job and Katherine back. Since Jayne’s moved out it’s just been me and Alan living separate lives paying our own way. Obviously I’ve still been cleaning and cooking but we’re sleeping separately.’
‘Are you sure you should be telling me this?’
‘He’s been doing other stuff too.’
‘Go on.’
* * *
The clock behind The Dog and Parrot bar told Katherine she’d less than fifteen minutes of her shift. Five minutes later Amy arrived.
‘This isn’t the normal jogging route?’ Katherine said.
‘I’m not running; I needed to see you.’
Katherine felt concerned. Kev appeared from the cellar and said, ‘Hi Amy, how you doing?’
‘Something’s up,’ Katherine told him.
‘Is this true?’ Kev asked jokingly.
‘We’ve got a bit to talk about yes,’ Amy said not looking at either of them.
‘About Danny or my mum?’ Katherine guessed wildly.
‘Your mum,’
‘Is she okay?’ Katherine’s body temperature rose.
Kev looked at the clock. ‘You’ve worked hard today Katherine. I’ll take over here.’
Outside Katherine buttoned up against the cold. Amy said, ‘You’re mum’s fine. But at Euston she got a train to Penrith. She’s at your gran’s house.’
Katherine raised her hands to her face.
‘I’ve got her phone number.’ Amy lead her to the phone box she’d just left.
Amy hung back but Katherine held the phone box’s door for her. Safely inside Katherine dialled.
This time Barbara answered. She told Katherine everything Amy had and then what she hadn’t. ‘I know deep down Sarah and Jayne love me but I’ve not told you that your dad’s been talking behind my back turning them against me.’
‘My god, are you sure?’
‘I don’t know exactly what he’s been saying but yes, I’m sure.’
‘That’s awful.’
‘I’ve talked everything out with your grandparents.’
‘And?’
‘I’ve left your dad.’
Katherine had anticipated that but it still felt like a knife blow. She said nothing letting her mum continue.
‘I’ve had such a lovely weekend with you and your friends.’
‘It’s been wonderful to see you so happy. What will you do?’
‘I’ll stay here in Penrith.’
‘What about dad?’
‘What about him?’
‘Have you told him?’
‘He’ll work it out. I’ll go over and collect some things soon.’
‘And Sarah and Jayne?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
‘What should I do?’
‘Nothing darling. Just promise me you’ll stay in touch.’
* * *
Back from his shift Danny watched Calvin stirring stew, both lads unaware of Katherine’s drama. ‘If we sign these deals we’ll have to get proper transport.’
‘I know, Raphael thinks his mum might stop us using her car,’ Calvin said. Though both tried neither of them could think how they’d get enough money for a van.
Katherine and Amy came through the door. Katherine strode up to Calvin as he stirred the pan and wrapped her arms around him.
‘You alright love?’ Calvin asked putting the spoon down to hug her properly.
‘Hmm, I am now,’ she said. ‘Baby?’
‘Yeah?’
‘D’you fancy taking a day or two off work and coming to Penrith?’
‘Penrith?’ Calvin resumed stirring. ‘What’s there?’
‘My mum’s there.’
Over dinner the lads learned of Barbara’s day.
‘You’ve gotta do what you need,’ Danny said visibly tense.
Katherine said, ‘I promise I’ll have him back by Friday.’
Happy enough with that Danny sat down and tried chatting with Amy. When it didn’t work he took Raphael’s, leave ‘em wanting more, advice by actively ending the conversation saying he’d ring Raphael.
‘Ok mate,’ Amy said without taking her eyes off the TV.
Mate? That didn’t sound good. He made for the phone and dialled.
Raphael answered. ‘Allo mate.’
Danny smiled amused by the rightness of being called mate, by him.
‘Mate, things have taken an odd turn here.’ Danny told Raphael of Barbara’s drama.
‘That’s exciting. Is everyone alright?’
‘Yeah, but Calvin’s going up to Penrith. Reckons he’ll be back Friday.’
‘Understandable. Bit of a shame though, I was hoping we could get a rehearsal in before ze weekend’s gigs. I’ve got new intro music; should get people’s attention.’
‘I can’t wait to hear it. Will you be okay to drive over this weekend?’
‘Hope so. My mum’s gone quiet on ze subject.’
‘Me and Cal are trying to think of something.’
‘Keep focused. A solution will present itself.’
‘I admire your faith Raphael.’
Tuesday 29th November 1983
The next day Katherine and Calvin both secured days off work despite the short notice. On her break she rang to confirm the travel details with her mum. The phone picked up. A genteel woman’s voice answer.
>
‘Oh gosh,’ Katherine said turning posh having forgotten someone else might answer.
‘Is that Katherine?’ the soft voice asked.
‘Yes. Is that, Emily Anderson?’
‘Indeed. Shall we meet you tomorrow?’
‘Err, as long as you’d like to.’
‘Edward and I would be delighted. We’ve been hearing such a lot about you.’
‘Goodness.’
‘Barbara’s out with Edward at the moment. Shall I take a message?’
‘Thank you. If you could just let her know we’ll be arriving in Penrith at 12:47.’
‘Wonderful. We’ll expect you and your gentleman friend for lunch.’
Wednesday 30th November 1983
Calvin fell asleep the moment the intercity train pulled out of Euston. Too nervous Katherine neither slept nor read.
Calvin woke just before Penrith as calm as any other day. In the station the train came to a standstill. Katherine made no attempt to move. ‘Shall we stay on to Edinburgh?’
‘It’ll be fine,’ Calvin said reassuringly. He picked up their bags and headed for the platform.
‘Hi,’ Barbara shouted spotting them first.
Katherine waved and looked past her but couldn’t see anyone with her.
‘Thanks for coming too,’ Barbara said to Calvin. ‘Fancy a cuppa before getting back?’
In a tea shop outside the station Katherine’s mum explained she knew she couldn’t go back to her husband the moment her parents welcomed her in.
‘I get how nasty Dad’s been,’ Katherine said, ‘but I still can’t understand how your parents could abandon you as they did.’
‘Wait till you meet them, you’ll see how I truly could’ve gone back anytime. Dad’s retiring bit by bit from the business and has got me a job there.’
‘They sound great,’ Katherine said almost sarcastically. ‘What are the sleeping arrangements is Calvin on the settee?’
Barbara laughed. ‘It’s a five bed house; you’ll share a twin bedroom.’
‘Sounds liberal, not like the same people who hated Dad and your marriage.’
‘Well they know you’re both grownups and you’re not pregnant; and Calvin’s not Alan.’
‘Right,’ Katherine said still unconvinced. ‘So, what do I call them?’
‘Call them Emily and Edward; unless anything else feels better.’
‘Alright. I was thinking, if you’ve not told Dad you’ve left, then Sarah and Jayne don’t know.’
‘I suppose.’ Barbara looked sad. ‘Thing is, leaving him was all too easy but with what he’s been saying to Sarah and Jayne – I don’t know how …’
Minutes later Calvin sat quietly in the front of a taxi with Katherine and Barbara behind him. No sooner had the car left the station than they approached a grand looking stone built pre-Victorian house.
‘Could you drop us off round the back?’ Barbara asked the driver.
As requested he pulled the car into a courtyard where a Range Rover, a tractor and a fine old Jaguar stood by stable doors.
Calvin and Katherine got out leaving Barbara to pay the driver. Calvin turned to see a striking and happy faced woman in a doorway.
Katherine recognised Emily Anderson as her grandmother at first glance. Her mind rapidly formed first impressions as the quintessentially English lady approached in a stately fashion. Katherine felt sure they’d get along.
An elderly man appeared at the doorway. Despite the chill he wore no jacket. Joining his wife the couple looked as fine as the Carringtons from Dynasty.
After introductions the pair welcomed them into their front room where Emily served fruit loaf with more tea.
Edward asked Calvin, ‘Are you coming over to help collect Barbara’s things?’
‘Well,’ Calvin started nearly choking on a raisin and looking between Katherine and Barbara, ‘we haven’t actually discussed that.’
No one pressed the subject and Calvin sat back letting the others talk. Sitting by the large window under such high ceilings he wondered if the house could be Georgian. Admiring the spacious front room with its momentous fireplace he felt astonished as to how Barbara could have turned her back on this and people who seemed so welcoming. Their joy of having their daughter back filled the whole room. Edward kept him at ease with frequent knowing nods. Katherine clicked with Emily wonderfully like their stilettos on the kitchen’s stone tiles when they went to wash up.
Barbara listed things that needed collecting from her old house. Edward said he’d drive her, Katherine and Calvin in the Jag until, as Barbara considered more stuff, Edward suggested the Range Rover.
With that decided the mood relaxed and Little Spirit popped into conversation. To Calvin’s surprise Edward showed real interest.
‘An old fellow like me won’t understand your music but if you can communicate with the public a career in music is a worthy pursuit whilst you’re young. You’ve always got your degree to fall back on if necessary.’
Thursday 01st December 1983
After breakfast the mission to collect Barbara’s things became increasingly ominous.
‘The Range Rover’s not nearly big enough,’ Emily said consulting the ever expanding list of possessions. ‘We need the van.’
Only after lunch did Edward drag a fatigued Bedford van from behind stable doors.
‘Haven’t used this in months,’ he said checking under the diesel stained bonnet.
‘It’s time to leave,’ Emily said.
‘Now or never. I don’t fancy getting caught in the act,’ Katherine said before noticing the van had only three seats. After wasting more time Edward agreed to stay behind. The diminished group did nothing to settle Katherine’s anxiety.
Barbara and Katherine slid the passenger door open and climbed onto the bench seat. Calvin, with his minimal driving experience, took the wheel and slid his door shut, screamed the engine then stalled.
‘Sorry everyone. Give me a moment.’
‘Take your time,’ Edward said.
On the second attempt Calvin pulled away.
On the A66 cruising noisily Calvin managed fourth gear. They passed through Keswick and Cockermouth. His driving improved before turning for the coastal town. The closer they got the darker it became and the less anyone spoke until Barbara gave directions to the estate.
At the house Calvin’s foot slipped off the clutch lurching everyone to a halt outside the hopefully unoccupied house. Nobody spoke. At that hour on the first day in December heavy clouds made everything seem darker and more menacing.
Barbara led the way, hip-thumping the garden’s gate and unlocking the door of the unlit house.
Katherine followed into the no-longer spotless building which now yearned for her mum’s touch. The air reeked of beer and the sink overflowed with dishes. Calvin appeared at the door with empty bags they’d brought.
Shaking herself Katherine rushed around praying they’d be done quickly.
Before long the end came into sight. Barbara continued packing upstairs whilst Katherine and Calvin loaded the van.
Neither saw a figure dressed in overalls and work boots slip past. Only by chance did Katherine catch sight of someone disappearing inside the house.
‘Oh no,’ she said grabbing Calvin’s arm.
‘What?’
‘I think Dad’s just gone in the house.’
Looking to Calvin for strength she watched in horror as his expression curdled as sickly as before gigs. Fearing he’d collapse Katherine released his arm and looked away. Shutting her eyes she concentrated, deciding she’d have to sort this out herself. But, amazingly she opened her eyes and saw Calvin marching up the path her dad had just trodden. Feeling as sick as Calvin had looked she tried to follow but her feet seemed stuck to the spot like chewing gum.
Forcing herself to advance she found Calvin at the foot of the stairs.
His voice projected richly. ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’
Following his ga
ze she saw her stricken mum laden with bags bungling down the stairs towards them. Her dad stood behind, boot raised, primed to kick. Barbara clonked passed Calvin who’d routed himself to the spot. Alan advanced staring towards him with thunderous anger.
Calvin swallowed. He never owned up to having stage fright largely because of the advice his cousin Geoff fed him. Never show your fear – or at least never admit it. And now too, at the foot of the stairs Calvin said nothing. Amy had told him under no circumstances mess with the formidable Alan. Too late, he thought staring through adrenalized tunnel vision into the face of unavoidable violence. And the adrenalin did take hold as blood favouring vital organs forsook his then nonessential digestive system. His lunch travelled south fast.
More words of Cousin Geoff’s came to mind. The nightclub bouncer who battled and won every contestation insisted, fear is natural and healthy. Crapping yourself figuratively or literally is no excuse for avoiding what must be done.
Calvin crunched his toes as if gripping the floor as Alan stepped into his personal space. Geoff had said, when the fight or flight response is activated ninety percent of people will opt for flight. Comfortably in the ten percent minority Alan showed no signs of fleeing. Calvin shifted his weight to the balls of his feet and bent trembling knees ready for action recalling Geoff’s best knowledge too late. Put your hands up like stop signs establishing distance. Your green light to attack comes if your adversary steps into your hands more than once. At the green light ask an obscure question like how old the aggressor is. In the split second it takes them to consider the answer strike the jaw, the ‘off switch’, with the force of everything you are. Hit anywhere from the ear to chin hard enough and their lights go out.
Unfortunately Calvin’s hands hung by his side redundant as Geoff’s advice. He braced himself for Alan’s onslaught but it didn’t come. With deathly silence Alan’s eyes locked his. Psychologically meshed, a dreaminess soon threatened to ensnare Calvin who began seeing beyond Alan’s evil. It occurred that no matter what bad things Alan had done or become he’d still provided years of food and shelter for the two women quivering nearby. And he’d provided this by decades of mining only to be told, no more, by Thatcher. Calvin grew weaker and stronger as, seduced by the moment, fear waned. Suddenly without warning Alan struck.
Bang!
The explosion of sound in Calvin’s head rocked him like an atom bomb. He clenched his eyes as if holding his head together and thrust arms forward whist staggering backwards.
Next back step and Calvin’s eyes sprang open as reality swam back. He’d been quick. Alan had broken the spell’s binding when, pulling his head back, he’d made for a momentous head butt. Calvin had thrust his head forwards in a subconscious action that had worked perfectly in his favour. The combined weight and speed of colliding heads resulted in Alan’s jaw clattering onto the centre of Calvin’s forehead – the hardest part of the skull. Alan should have been knocked out cold but, no stranger to the fray, he fought the stars. He wobbled backwards. Calvin pulled together like a boxer. Right fist next to his jaw, elbow tucked in; left hand ready. Alan staggered like a drunk.