A Book In A Month - Chapter 14

Another day, another dollar, thought Clara as she escorted a young athlete to the reception area of the practice. How any one so young could have a bunion was always a puzzle to her. Of course they are now known to be caused by a dislocation. Often a slow dislocation, caused by wearing ill fitting shoes. It must hurt every time they put on their shoes, she grimaced as the thought crossed her mind. “You all right, Clara?” her client enquired.

“Uh, yes. Sorry. I was thinking about feet.” She explained.

“You're meant to like feet, aren't you?” The client was looking surprised.

“Clara laughed, “I do like feet, but I was thinking about how painful bunions can be.”

“This place is funny. I come here to get my feet fixed and you feel my pain. That's above and beyond the call of duty.”

“That's why we're called an alternative practice,” she smiled as she responded. They had reached the reception area and said their goodbys. Clara headed back to her consulting room to await Janes arrival; and Keiths', of course.

Keith breezed in first, “Am I still welcome?” he gestured a twosome and offered a cock-eyed smile. He was and settled down on sofa as Clara made the teas. Jane turned up a little late and flustered.

“I need coffee,” she gasped, “Coffee now!”

“I don't have any,” Clara said abruptly. “Do you want me to ask if there's any on reception?”

“Oh, yes please. I can't discuss it, but, believe me, there are some things I really don't need to hear,” Jane shook her head and plonked hard down into a chair.

The receptionist was there in a flash bearing a large jar of a very strong instant coffee. Jane took it, promising to drop it back before her next customer. “Any one else fancy one?” she asked with a wave of the jar.

“Yeh, go on. Why not?” said Keith.

Clara joined them, “Why a cup of coffee in this building should make me feel so wicked, I'm not at all sure. But it does. She headed to the cupboard and returned with a box of papers. “Here they are then, my grand dads' work records. How should we tackle this?”

The discussion ranged from looking at each paper as a group and making notes under headings, to randomly working through the box and putting the finished papers into another box. When the original box was empty they would look at each others notes. The debate ranged for most of the break, with group deciding to split the box of papers between them. They would, they thought, each go through their pile of papers, making notes and then pass on their pile. The would do this until each person had looked at every leaf of paper in the box. They agreed that they did not know what they were looking for, simply that they were looking.

Jane popped the jar of coffee back to the reception desk and found herself having to explain their secret meetings. The receptionist looked palpably disappointed at this innocent explanation, she did not seem in the least bit interested in helping out.

*

John had decided to spend part of his day learning to use a computer. To this effect he had booked a lesson at the local library. He left his flat allowing time to browse the bookshelves before he had to get on with the task of learning a new skill, a skill he was not certain he really wanted to acquire. |For a man that walked with the aid of a stick, his journey would need a break in the middle for him to rest. He called into the coffee shop as usual and sat at a table waiting to have a member of staff come along to take his order. No one came. It was a coffee shop. He had to place his order a the counter. After five minutes, John took the hint,struggled theatrically to his feet and made his way to the counter. The staff were kind enough to bring his coffee to his table for him. Someone else had taken his seat. They looked for another seat, preferably not the brown leather sofa, from which he would never be able to extricate himself. The assistant found an empty chair and placed it next to the available sofa. John was supposed to sit on the chair and use the near bye low table to rest his cup. He used the arm of the sofa instead; why not?

Refreshed after his rest and luxuriating in his renegade behaviour with the coffee cup, John raised himself up and began the second leg of his short journey. Entering the library, he pressed the button to summon the lift and waited with both hands on top of his walking stick. He leaned onto the stick watching the button for it to signal the decent of the lift. Soon he was at the reception desk, booking in for his lesson. He looked over at the computers as the librarian explained the format of the lesson. He would be at computer number six with Sid as his helper and he should try to be at his seat promptly. It is a busy day, he is told.

John made it to his seat on time and Sid introduced himself. John finds that he quite likes him. They chat about Johns' reasons for wanting to learn to use a computer and Sid suggested that he concentrate on using the internet and perhaps Email. John said it all sounded fine and suggested that they get on with the lesson, as they only had an hour. After an introductory demonstration, Sid left John to explore the internet. It was not long before John found the experience overwhelming; the jargon, the buttons. He muttered, “Typing is womens work.” And he wondered why Sid has left him for so long, these people, he thought to himself, have too little time to teach me. Eventually he looked up and took a breather. It had all been very intense, he needed a moment to gather himself before diving back into the world of the silver surfer. Without warning he caught the eye of the woman on the opposite computer and froze. Her.

"Well!” she exclaimed.

John stared back at her. Furious, She had no right to keep following him around like this. Flustered, he snapped his gaze back onto his computer, but was too unsettled to concentrate. He could feel her sharp, piercing eyes boring into the top of his skull. He wanted nothing more than to get up and leave. Noticing the clock in the corner of the computer screen, he was relieved to see that he had a mere ten minutes left of his leasson. Sid returned and taught a distracted John to log off. All I want to do is bog off, John thought to himself. He could not help smiling to himself as the thought pops into his head. That woman has ruined this for me. She's a bloody menace.

John headed for the local college the moment his lesson was over. He took a bus ride out of the town centre and into a leafy suburb where the new college loomed like an island above a sea of genteel semi detached homes.

Back home, John drank his coffee as he browsed the college prospectus. His leg hurt and he was not happy about returning to the library if that woman was going to be there. He would enrol on one of the colleges' computer courses, even if he had to pay for it. It would be better than bumping into that old bag again.

*

Clara tapped on the door as she let herself in. “Hello dad. Have you had a good day?” she asked him innocently.

“No I bloody haven't,” was his stark response.

After some cajoling John relented and the two of them settled into their familiar evening routine. A nice meal and then the family research over grubby mugs of disgusting coffee. John told Clara that he had finished his tallying of the bird book and the work journeys and that there is no co-relation at all. For Clara this revelation was a shock. Last week it was clear that the two documents mirrored each other closely. John explained that it was not as clear cut as it had appeared and that the more work he had done, the less of a solid link he could find.

Clara asked to take a look at it and noticed that her grand father was away on her 'birth' day. She had noticed that he was in Delhi on her birthday only the other day. Was she going mad? Now he was somewhere else.

“Dad, I could have sworn that grand dad was in Delhi on my birthday. In the work records. I thought you had marked him as being here?” Clara jabbed her index finger at Delhi on the map.

John tells her, “In my day it wasn't rare for men to be away for births. Work was king. Besides, you weren't his child, you were his grandchild. The main thing was that your grandma was present, because child birth was women's work. Us men were considered a hindrance and were supposed to get out of the way. Down the pub. You know?”

“No dad, what I mean is, last week grand dad was in Delhi when I was born. This week, he is here, in Bikana. How did he move, just like that?” Clara looked directly at her father and raised her eyebrows.

“Ah, I wonder if I've made some kind of mistake. I've had to alter parts of it. My eyesight still lets me down love and the dates on some of those documents were hard to decipher. I expect it's one of the many errors I made along the way. I shouldn't worry about it if I were you.”

The answer was good enough to convince Clara and she sighed, “I still can't quite get my head around there being no link, dad. It's such a disappointment. No Natasha.” She sipped her coffee for a long moment, looking down, “No link. I don't get it.”

John was silent. It had been a demanding day, and now to see his daughter so demoralized made him weary.

“You all right dad?”

“I think so,” he muttered, “Probably going down with a cold, that's all.”