A Book In A Month - Chapter 15

At the end of a long day, Jane and Clara walked together to their cars in amiable silence. As Clara was about to step into her car, Jane called out to her, “Clara, how do you fancy going for a drink?”

“When?” Clara responded, one foot in the footwell, the other on the tarmac.

“Now?” Jane called back.

“Can't right now, gotta go to my dads. I cook his meal every evening.” Clara sounded disappointed.

“Later? Say seven thirty?” Suggested Jane.

“Yeh, why not? Usual place?” Asked Clara cheerfully.

“Yes, the Ducks Back. It's a date.” Jane said with a well practised wink. “Laters.”

Clara drove straight to her fathers' flat. As she drove she pondered what to wear for a casual mid week drink with a friend. This was another new experience for her. By the time she had arrived at Johns, she had settled upon the outfit she was wearing. It would do, as long as she undid a few of her blouse buttons.

*

Clara and John had to cook, eat and chat on a tight schedule. Clara could tell that John was still rather subdued and she guessed he might still be under the weather. He really did not want to discuss the family history, saying that, “There's more to life than this one topic. Can't we talk about something else for a change?”

Clara was taken aback by his abruptness and asked if he was still feeling under the weather. She was beginning to feel concerned for her eighty nine year old father. He was still a fit and healthy old man, hip problem not with standing, but he was getting on. An illness as simple as a cold could be enough to kill him. She was feeling concerned, “Dad, I think you should take yourself off to the doctors for a check up. You're not yourself at the moment.”

“I don't need to go to the doctors; I'm not dying yet, and if I was, I wouldn't waste the time I had left running up and down to the surgery.” He sounded irritated.

After some debate, they agreed that it was Johns' body and it was up to him how he looked after it. They changed the subject for the last ten minutes of Clara's visit, but both of them felt upset, John because he was not ill, simply feeling guilty and Clara, because she now anticipated her fathers imminent death.

As Clara left Johns apartment she did so with a heavy heart. This could be the last time she would kiss his warm, living cheek goodbye. “I love you dad,” was all she said in a whisper into his ear. She was crying. John never noticed.

*

As she walked up to the door of the pub, Jane was startled to find a weeping Clara waiting for her. She scooped up Clara into her arms and held her tight, “What is it Clara?”

Clara rested her head on Janes' bosom and sobbed quietly, “I feel an idiot. I'm sorry. It's nothing.”

“Nothing?” Reflected Jane as she stroked Claras' hair in a maternal manner.

“Just my dad. He's not very well and wont go to the doctors. I can't get him to go. I think he's dying.” Clara sobbed more loudly.

Jane held Clara more tightly saying, “Oh Clara, I'm so sorry. Do you want to come to my place for a drink, instead of here, or would you rather head home?”

“Let's go in here. I need to have a drink in a dark corner.” A wan smile looked into Janes face, “Besides, dad may not be that ill, I suppose.”

The two women walked into the pub arm in arm, Clara with her tear stained face tilted downwards and her blouse still buttoned up primly. Jane looked ahead confidently as she pondered if this was the right time to broach a sensitive subject.

After a couple of cocktails, Claras mood had improved and their conversation turned to men. Jane skilfully guided Clara onto the subject of Keith. She did this with such a light touch that Clara did not realise Jane's motive was to match make Keith with Clara. Jane needed to do some work on the poor unsuspecting Clara, who was too shy to even notice that she was made for Keith and vice versa. Jane outlined Keiths positive points, seeking agreement from Clara at each stage. After a shared chuckle about the fit of Keiths trousers Jane suggested that Clara and Keith would make a perfect couple. “You both look so comfortable in each other's company.” Jane summed up.

Clara poo-pooed the idea, saying that Keith was far too young for her. Even though they did not know exactly how o;d Keith was, they guessed at him being somewhere in his late 20's. Jane says that she does not know how old Clara is. To her mind, Clara and Keith look as if they are similar ages. “If we think he's about 20, and we do, that makes me almost twice his age. So we're back to square one. He's way too young for me. The whole idea is ridiculous.” Clara's grumpy tone worries Jane. The idea was to persuade Clara to date Keith. The opposite was the sum total of Jane's effort.

“Age,” says Jane, “Means nothing these days. He could be your toy boy. You're not getting any younger so have fun while you can. Don't leave it too late. Play the field, or at least give Keith a chance.

“You sound like my dad,” retorts Clara. “He keeps on at me to not leave it too late.”

“You're dad's right. You should be out there with a man. Think about it, huh?” This was the last time Jane would mention the topic that evening.

*

Over the next couple of weeks the little group picked its way through Simons' work records. They managed to study a couple of piles of documents each over that time, but there was a pile to go. They had passed on their papers once they had gleaned as much information as possible from them. So far, after two weeks, they had not talked about the things they had read, because they had been so busy.

Every now and again someone would break the reverie and say something, usually it was something along the lines of, ”Put the kettle on,” or, “That's interesting.” Eventually Keith said, “These lunch breaks aren't long enough for this job, we just don't have enough time.”

He offered his place at the weekend for them to continue their research. They agreed that they would head out on Friday night as usual and then, spend the rest of the weekend going over the papers at Keiths place. It was a good offer and would mean they could amalgamate their finding to see if it all amounted to anything.

*

John had begun his course at the college, it was a term long drop in computer course for nervous beginners. He had decided that he would drop in a lot. That way he'd get his monies-worth. John was very impressed with the high student to staff ratio, which the person staffing the college admissions desk had been at pains to point out to him. He would not have to wait long if he was in need of help. Another positive for John had been the reassurance that as an older student, he would be in good company. Not all the students are children. Most of them were from his generation.

“I think I may like this,” he thinks to himself as his tutor offers him a seat and sits down next to him. The people on either side of him say hello. John is even more pleased with his choice. His tutor talks him through his course and then John was introduced to the other tutors, who's images appeared on the screen. His tutor said, “Mrs Wildensmitt would probably suit you best as she's a more mature member of staff.”

John put on his reading glasses in order to take a closer look as his tutor hovers the cursor over the womans nose. “Oh no”, yells John, “Not that bloody woman”.