Foreign Affairs (20 page)

‘Thanks, pet.’ Her mother stood at the door and waved as she and Beth set off on their great new adventure.

As she watched Jenny and Beth march up the street in their new uniforms, a lump came to Kit’s throat. It seemed like yesterday when she’d brought the pair of them
to St Pappin’s for their first day at school. Where had the time gone? And look at the way their lives had changed. And not for the better, she thought miserably as a tear rolled down her
cheek. She’d been a bitch to her daughter this morning over that blazer. Poor Jenny had enough on her mind. Naturally she was a bit nervous starting a new school. Kit had been looking for
someone to vent her frustration and temper on and she had taken it out on Jenny. Poor kind soft Jenny who was the most obliging of her children and the one she had the least trouble with.

The single tear was followed by a torrent and Kit, fearful that the father-in-law would catch her, stifled her sobs in her apron and hurried up the stairs to the relative sanctuary of her own
bedroom. Not that it was much of a sanctuary any more, she thought dolefully, and the torrent turned into a waterfall. More often than not she lay awake seething at Jim, angry about his immense
disloyalty to her. When it came to his father, there was no discussion. He just didn’t want to hear. Kit felt frustrated and shut out. Having his father come to live with them had driven a
wedge between them. The longer he stayed, the wider the chasm dividing them.

As the years passed and her misery deepened, Kit became even more depressed. She felt that it had come down to a choice between her and his father and Jim had chosen his father. Hurt, anger and
resentment were eating away at her. She was taking it out on her children, snapping at them. Arguing with them over trivial things as she’d argued with poor old Jenny this morning. She was
trying her best not to let her children see the antipathy she felt towards their grandfather. It was important that they treated him with respect. He was, after all, an elderly man. She
wasn’t going to have him saying that his grandchildren weren’t being brought up to respect their elders.

If only her father-in-law appreciated the care she gave him, she could have coped. But he was a rude garrulous cranky old man who loved the sound of his own voice and who firmly believed it was
his right to dictate how the entire family should live and behave.

She’d lost her dining-room, which was turned into a bedroom for Dan. She had to endure him in the kitchen under her feet and in the sitting-room at night when she was trying to relax. Day
in, day out. It was so wearing on the nerves that she felt her health was being affected. She’d spoken to her doctor about the tension headaches, the insomnia and the dreadful feeling of
being wound up all the time but he just murmured something about her starting the change and offered her sleeping pills for the insomnia. Kit wondered sometimes if she was starting to have a
nervous breakdown. It frightened her.

She was angry with Ellen. It took a huge effort to be civil to her. Their relationship had become strained and frosty. Of course, Ellen had stopped visiting when Dan had come to stay. Deep down,
Kit understood her sister-in-law’s enormous animosity towards her father, but dammit he was
her
father and not Kit’s. Why didn’t she take the responsibility for him and
put him in a nursing home or something? Whenever Kit said that to Jim he would go spare. He’d say how would she like it if he’d suggested anything like that when her parents were
alive.

‘My parents weren’t destroying my marriage,’ she’d exploded bitterly after one particularly vicious row. She’d accused him of not loving her any more. Because if he
did, he’d never allow his father to treat her as he did. Jim was so angry he’d gone downstairs and slept on the sofa. For the first time.

The memory of that made her cry even harder and she buried her face in the pillows and cried her eyes out. It was hopeless. Her life stretched out ahead of her, a life of rows and misery and
repressed anger and all because of that awful little man downstairs who had ruined her happy family. And who looked as though he was going to live for ever.

‘Any chance of a cup of tea and a bit of brown bread or does a disabled man have to go and get his own breakfast?’ she heard him call.

‘If I get my hands on you, you little bastard,
I’ll
disable you. Don’t you worry, you horrible little weasel,’ she swore, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. Kit
got off the bed and went to brush her hair. It was liberally streaked with grey now, she thought despondently. Much of it put there by the Antichrist downstairs. A sudden determination gripped her
and with swift economical movements she dressed and applied a light make-up. The boys called goodbye and she stood at the landing window and waved them off.

‘Have I to go and get my own breakfast or what?’ Dan appeared at his bedroom door, dressed in a worn grey dressing-gown and down-at-heel slippers.

‘Yes Grandpa, I’m afraid you have. I’ve an appointment in town. And you’ll have to get your own lunch too. I won’t be back until this afternoon,’ Kit informed
him briskly. ‘You can leave the washing-up and I’ll do it.’ Without a backward glance she marched out the front door, leaving her father-in-law staring after her in dismay.

Chapter Sixteen

‘Well Mrs Myles, and what do you think of it?’ The young man who had just cut and coloured her hair stood proudly behind her chair surveying his handiwork.

Kit studied her reflection in the mirror and felt exhilarated and a bit shocked at the same time. She’d never done anything so drastic in her life. Instead of grey straight hair she had
strawberry blonde tresses that were cut in a neat geometrical bob to frame her face. ‘Vidal Sassoon, eat your heart out,’ grinned the young man. He was wearing too-tight jeans and a
black shirt opened to reveal a tanned hairy chest which was adorned with gold medallions.

‘It’s very nice,’ she murmured.

‘Nice! It’s fab, way out, it takes ten years off you, baby,’ the young man exclaimed enthusiastically, running his fingers through his own permed and highlighted locks.

‘Come back to me in six weeks. I’ll trim your fringe if you need it. OK?’

‘OK,’ Kit agreed, wondering what had possessed her to go in to the unisex hair salon and make such a dramatic change in her hairstyle and colour.

You did it because you were letting yourself go. You were getting old before your time. You’re not Methuselah yet, she thought wryly. Nevertheless. The exercise had had the desired effect.
There was a spring in her step as she marched down Abbey Street and crossed O’Connell Street and went into Easons.

Kit was really starting to enjoy her unscheduled little jaunt. Something inside her had snapped that morning. When she saw the haggard face with the greying hair reflected in the mirror
she’d decided she wasn’t going to give in without a struggle. She wasn’t going to let her life be spoiled by a crabby old man who needed a good kick up the arse. If her husband
wanted to look after him, let him, Kit decided firmly. Enough was enough. She was going to start living again instead of existing in dreary drudgery for which she got no thanks.

A rare light-heartedness enveloped her as she caught sight of her glamorous new image in a mirror. Her haircut totally changed her looks. The hairdresser was right, it did take years off her
age. Even her eyes seemed to have a bit of extra sparkle. She resolved there and then to treat herself to some new make-up and a new outfit. But first things first, she decided as she scanned the
huge display rack of magazines until she found
Woman’s Way
. Yes, first she was going to treat herself to lunch in Woolworth’s café, have a read of her magazine and enjoy
a cigarette in peace and quiet with no whining father-in-law to annoy her.

Kit relished every mouthful of her little treat. It was nice to sit back sipping her coffee and watch people bustling about. She didn’t have to hurry anywhere. Afterwards, she spent ages
testing and trying out new make-up. Then she went to Roches where she bought herself a navy tank top and flowery blouse and a flowing patterned skirt. A rush of adrenalin surged through her as she
paid for her purchases. This was better than sex any day, she thought giddily. Jim had better not open his mouth about how much she’d spent or she’d let him have it. Though to give him
his due, he was not a mean man. He’d been a very considerate husband until his father arrived.

It was amazing, Kit reflected, as she stood waiting for the 13 bus, how a trip to the hairdressers and lunch and a spree in town could lift the spirits so dramatically. She couldn’t
believe she was the same woman who’d been so weepy and depressed this morning. She felt rejuvenated. Don’t lose this feeling, Kit warned herself as she sat, surrounded by her parcels,
on the back seat of the almost empty bus. She knew it would be all too easy to slip back into her negative mood if she let herself. Well she wasn’t going to let herself. She was going to
fight back and reclaim what she could of her life, because otherwise she could see herself ending up on Valium. She’d seen the signs of it in the mirror that morning and it had shaken her.
The only one who could do anything about it was herself and she’d taken the first step with her impulsive trip to town.

I’m proud of you, Kit, she congratulated herself, trying to give herself courage as she walked across The Green. She wondered what kind of a reception she’d get when she got
home.

‘Mam, it’s fantastic. You look brill,’ Jennifer enthused as she came out to the hall to welcome her mother home. She’d been worried about her, and here
she was looking a million dollars with a new haircut and a lovely colour in her hair. She’d had her face made up too and she looked really well. Better than Jennifer had seen her looking in
months.

‘Do you like it?’ Kit gave a sheepish smile. ‘It’s a bit drastic, isn’t it?’

‘It’s just what you needed,’ Jennifer insisted. ‘What did you buy?’

They went through her purchases, holding them up against Kit for effect.

‘Did you get home early? The boys aren’t home yet, are they?’ Kit enquired as she folded her new clothes neatly and put them back in the bags.

‘I got off early because it was our first day,’ Jennifer told her. ‘Come on, let’s have a cup of tea and I’ll tell you all about it.’

‘Where’s himself?’ Her mother grimaced.

‘Sitting out the back smoking his pipe and reading his paper. He’s in a huff because he had to get his own breakfast and lunch.’

‘Isn’t it a pity about him? He’s lucky he’s still alive to be in a huff, and that I didn’t murder him this morning,’ Kit retorted sarcastically.
‘I’d better go and make the beds before I sit down for a cup of tea. You go and put the kettle on.’

‘The beds are made and the table is set for the dinner,’ Jennifer declared, taking her mother firmly by the arm and leading her into the kitchen.

‘You’re a dote and I’d be lost without you.’ Kit hugged her warmly and Jennifer hugged her back, glad that her mother seemed much more cheerful in herself.

They sat at the kitchen table, drinking their tea and gossiping about their respective days. The afternoon sun streamed through the small window in the front, shining on her mother’s newly
coiffed and coloured hair. Jennifer was extremely impressed with the style and cut of it. Before, her mother’s hair had hung just to the top of her shoulders and had been well streaked with
grey. It was now a lovely reddish blond and the cut was sharp and short, emphasizing her mother’s fine cheekbones and lovely grey eyes. It was a complete transformation.

They were peeling the potatoes for the dinner when her grandfather walked in through the back door.

‘Where’ve you been? The bread-man came and I didn’t know what to get and those Imco cleaners came and I didn’t know if you were sending anything to be cleaned. It’s
a bloody nuisance answering the door all day when you don’t know what to be saying to people,’ he grouched. He couldn’t see Kit clearly because the sun was shining directly in his
eyes. He moved out of the glare just as she turned around to answer him.

‘Holy Hand a the Livin’ God! What have you done to yourself, woman?’ he expostulated. Jennifer turned away to hide her grin.

‘I went to the hairdressers,’ Kit retorted, ‘is that a crime?’

‘It is when you spend good money and come out looking like that,’ the old man snorted as he limped through the kitchen and gave the door a ferocious slam.

Jennifer and Kit looked at each other, open-mouthed at his rudeness.

‘Could you beat that?’ Kit scowled. Jennifer couldn’t help it, she burst into giggles.

‘But did you see the face of him? It was priceless,’ she chuckled. Her mother saw the funny side of it and started to laugh herself. The boys arrived home about ten minutes later
and, after the initial shock of their mother’s changed appearance, forgot all about it and went off to play football.

Jennifer was pouring milk into the jug when she heard her father’s key in the door. She heard her grandfather emerge from his bedroom, where he’d been sulking, to go and greet his
son.

After he’d said hello, Jim asked him how he was. ‘And how would you expect me to be and I left here to my own devices all day? Had to get my own breakfast and lunch and answer the
door to every Tom, Dick and Harry that called. That wife of yours has lost the run of herself. She went off into town and got a new-fangled hairdo. And I could have starved for all she
cared.’ Jennifer was furious. The nerve of him. The first time in ages that Kit had a day to herself and he was making a fuss about it. She was sorely tempted to go out and give him a piece
of her mind, but her father wouldn’t take too kindly to it. He never let them cheek their grandfather.

Jim walked into the kitchen looking tired. ‘Hi Dad.’ She gave him a kiss.

‘Hi Jenny, how did your first day go?’ Her father smiled at her as he walked over to the sink to wash his hands.

‘It was great. Beth and I are in the same class. We’re sitting together and we’ve got a lovely form teacher, Sister Agnes. She’s really young and quite modern,’
Jennifer assured him.