Fraser's Line (3 page)

Sarah came to tell them it was time to start packing away. She thanked Fraser for keeping them so busy, as it had given her the chance to get some important jobs done.

‘I’ve enjoyed it as much as they have,’ he said. ‘Perhaps more!’

As soon as Sarah had left the room Kate asked, ‘Grandpa, is it alright for girls to play with trains?’

Fraser was taken aback. ‘Of course! Why ever shouldn’t it be?’

‘Mummy says trains are a boys’ thing,’ said Kate, ‘and I ought to like something more feminine.’

‘I think anyone can enjoy playing with them when they’re little.’ Fraser tried to be tactful. ‘Perhaps what Mummy means is that when you grow up you probably won’t want to drive trains, which at the moment is what George thinks he wants to do. You might find something more interesting that appeals especially to girls. Anyway, trains are supposed to be children’s things – and look at me, an old man, and I still love playing with them!’

‘So it’s alright now when I’m not grown up? I don’t actually like dolls much.’ The little girl looked so anxious Fraser felt sorry for her.

‘Of course it is. And I hope I can watch you as you get a little older and see what things you like then.’

At that moment Michael arrived back home, smiling and in a very good mood. Fraser heard him greet his wife warmly, and then he came in to see them.

‘Had a good time, children?’

‘It was great!’ said George. ‘Really, really great! Will you come again soon, Grandpa?’

‘Yes, I certainly will.’ Fraser knew it was his cue to go now. The children both hugged him warmly, and he left for home feeling a little easier – until he remembered what he had agreed to do that evening.

Gloomily Fraser rang the doorbell of Marion’s house. Why on earth had he agreed to come to this party? He hated parties! He always had, and only went, as a young man, because Margaret managed somehow to bully him into it. It was different when he was married. Then, party going had become, if not actually enjoyable, quite acceptable. He had been proud to enter a room with Edie on his arm. He would watch the faces light up when she appeared, and he would smile smugly to himself, knowing what would happen.

As he sat in a quiet corner with a glass in his hand he would watch the frenzied activity in the centre of the room. Edie, standing there, poised, hand on hip, eyes glowing, would be the focal point of a circle of men busy jostling for prime position. Her laugh would frequently break through the buzz of conversation, as she appeared to find each man who sought to interest her utterly fascinating – for a time, until another claimed her attention. She dazzled with her smile, her hand frequently resting gently on an arm, or shoulder. She would look round the little group and ask ingratiatingly for another drink, heaping praise on whoever supplied it.

Then suddenly she would move away, bored with the present company, and seek fresh excitement. The men would fall back, each feeling an acute loss of self esteem, as she moved off in another direction and began her entrancing routine all over again.

Occasionally she would come over to him and exclaim, ‘Fraser, darling, do find my handbag – I can’t think where I put it down!’ Then she would lean towards him and whisper quietly, ‘Shall we go home soon? I’m getting bored with this party.’ He would get to his feet, all too happy to leave, but whether they actually left would depend on whether another man appeared at her elbow sparking fresh interest, in which case he might be still sitting there an hour or two later.

On these occasions Fraser knew that, although she might seem to be thrilled with all the men there, he would be the one to take her home, and this knowledge amply made up for any hours of tedium. Mostly she would be in a state of childlike excitement, eyes dancing, delighted to know that she had held centre stage, outshone her feminine rivals, lit sparks in most males there – who would no doubt try and contact her later, and be puzzled by their lack of success. She fed on the attention at the time and was satiated. It carried her through until another such opportunity came along.

When they arrived back she would still be in high spirits. She’d ask him if he had noticed what her female acquaintances had worn, and deride those who she considered lacked dress sense. She would laugh at some of the things the men had boasted about – which at the time had apparently so impressed her. And she would be so affectionate, that when they went to bed he was a very happy man. Yes, it would all be very worthwhile.

Just occasionally her mood would not be sustained once they had left the party and she would come home agitated and miserable. Fraser could only guess at the reason, but he would have an exhausting task on his hands trying to bring the colour back into her face and the light into her eyes. She would profess a headache, but he knew better. In some way she had, in her own eyes at least, failed to achieve the success she needed. He would try hard to boost her, telling her how wonderful she was, how no one had come anywhere near her, how everyone had told him how lovely she had looked, but the mood would remain stubbornly unyielding. He would be helpless to do anything but wait for it to pass.

Fraser sighed. That was the past, and it was all over. Now he had to face arriving at a party on his own, and all of a sudden the tongue-tied man he had been in his twenties returned. He was about to turn tail and run, when the door opened. Marion – who had been a friend of Margaret’s for many years – stood there overdoing the warm welcome.

‘Fraser! How lovely to see you! I’m so glad you’ve come – we all are. We’ve all been thinking of you so much – how terrible it is for you. But you’ve done absolutely the right thing to come out – it’s no good sitting on your own and moping – Edie would really not want you to do that!’

She was making it worse and worse. Emotions flooded through him – the overriding one being amazement at his own stupidity – fancy exposing himself to this! How soon could he leave?

He was about to mutter something about not being able to stay long when Margaret appeared and drew him in. ‘Chin up,’ she muttered. ‘The first time is the worst. Look, I’ll come and sit with you for a while.’ She steered him into the room where people were mingling and those who knew him fell silent, not knowing what to say. Fraser smiled at them dumbly, and followed Margaret to a couple of chairs in the corner, where he sat and wished he were anywhere but there. This was even more difficult than he had anticipated, and he didn’t know how he was going to get though it.

‘Don’t go away, Margaret,’ he pleaded. ‘I don’t want anyone else telling me what a good thing I’ve done in coming out.’

‘Don’t be an ass,’ said Margaret ‘You’ve got to try and talk to people a bit. You’re just wallowing in your misery, Fraser. Try and take an interest in someone else – it’s a sure recipe for feeling a bit better.’

‘I’m not interested in anyone else and I’m no good at pretending. I don’t care if I don’t speak to anyone all evening. I shan’t be happy until I go home – and then I won’t be anyway.’

Aware that he sounded like a spoiled child Fraser felt mildly ashamed, but still couldn’t find the resources to lift his spirits. Margaret dutifully sat there and chatted about the family. First she mentioned Marjorie, and, as always, expressed her strong opinion that they must now consider putting her into a care home. Fraser found it difficult to contemplate this, realising how much she would hate it. Then Margaret asked him about Sarah and Joanna, and he responded monosyllabically. People came up in ones and twos and tried to offer condolences. Fraser felt awkward – he didn’t know what to say. He must be putting a great big damper on this party, and that thought made him feel even worse.

Suddenly he realised Margaret had gone – the chair next to him was empty, and he was alone. He was about to get up and make his escape when he saw Marion, the hostess, bearing down upon him with a somewhat well built woman trailing behind. He did not think he had seen this woman before – she was perhaps in her fifties, with a slightly swarthy complexion and long, dark hair.

‘Fraser!’ Marion’s tone was hearty and Fraser cringed, guessing what was coming. ‘I’m so glad I’ve found you! I don’t think you’ll have met Angela. She’s a new acquaintance of mine, and hasn’t long been living in the area. She was widowed fairly recently.’

Fraser dutifully rose to his feet and held out his hand. They both sat down awkwardly, and neither spoke. Then Angela said, ‘Isn’t this absolutely awful!’

‘Not much of a party,’ agreed Fraser.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean the party. I meant the way friends have this terrible compulsion to bring together two people who are on their own. Just because we are now single is no guarantee we are going to have anything in common at all, but they feel compelled to introduce us. Do you find the same thing?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Fraser. ‘This is the first time I’ve been out since I lost Edie, and I’ve been regretting it ever since I got here.’

‘Why did you come in the first place?’

‘My sister Margaret is Marion’s friend, and she got me to come. I didn’t want to at all, but my sister doesn’t take no for an answer – I learned that pretty early in life.’

‘Which one is she? Wait, don’t tell me. I think I see a resemblance between you and that rather slim and handsomely featured woman in the black dress.’

‘Are you always that flattering? I’d have said she had rather daunting looks and hasn’t much awareness of how to dress.’

‘Yes, but you’re her brother, so you probably don’t see her in quite the same light as other people do. My guess is she terrorised you when you were a small boy. Am I right?’

‘She was certainly a very bossy sister, and she hasn’t stopped yet.’

‘Marion tells me you recently lost your wife. I’m so sorry.’

‘Not half as sorry as I am,’ said Fraser. Then, realising that sounded rather rude, he wondered how to retrieve the situation. ‘Do you live near here?’ he asked.

‘In Twickenham, about half an hour’s journey. Anyway, I’ve no desire to inflict small talk on you. I’ll go and find someone else to bother for a little while, and as soon as I decently can I’ll slip away.’

Suddenly he felt frightened of being abandoned, but on the other hand he didn’t think he could bear staying much longer.

To his own surprise he heard himself saying, ‘Look, I’m hating being here, and possibly you are too. I’d much rather be sitting away from any public gaze in a pub with a beer. I know a place up the road that’s quite pleasant. Do you fancy a quick drink there?’

She hesitated for a moment, and then agreed that it sounded like a sensible idea.

‘What’s the pub called?’

‘The Good Companions.’

She laughed. ‘A touch optimistic, perhaps,’ she replied, ‘but I must admit playing truant would be just what the doctor ordered. We’d better not leave together – I’m sure you don’t want to start up any rumours at this point, any more than I do. How shall we do this? Perhaps if you leave first, and wait outside in your car, I’ll come out afterwards and follow you in mine.’

‘I don’t think I can handle the goodbye bit,’ said Fraser. ‘I know it sounds pathetic. I just want to disappear.’

Angela thought for a moment. ‘I think I have it,’ she said. ‘I’ll pretend I brought an umbrella, and can’t find it. I’ll create a bit of a commotion which will engage our hostess, and you can make your exit. How’s that for a conspiracy?’

Fraser felt grateful to this kind stranger – she might look a little unusual, but she seemed to understand what he needed. What had she said about being on her own? He hadn’t taken much notice, being too preoccupied with his own feelings. He felt he had been churlish, when she was being helpful. He made a mental note to ask her more about herself when they got to the pub.

Angela left, and then Fraser started to move in the direction of the door to the hall. He had almost made it when Margaret appeared and accosted him.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked. ‘Not leaving yet, I hope.’
‘Stop stalking me!’ replied Fraser. ‘I’m just looking for the little boys’ room.’

‘I can show you,’ and she started to follow him.

‘It’s perfectly alright, Margaret,’ he said rather huffily. ‘I’m sure I’m old enough to find it on my own. You wait here and I’ll be back shortly.’

The next minute he was in the hall – where he could hear voices raised – and then he was out of the front door!

Once they were settled in a reasonably quiet corner with their drinks Fraser asked, ‘Have you been on your own for long?’

‘Two years,’ she replied. ‘I won’t insult you with platitudes about time healing. The fact is it goes on hurting, but I suppose I’m gradually learning to deal with it. It will better when I’ve been back to America where we were living and all the ends have been sewn up. I shall be going shortly, I think. What about you?’

‘It’s almost two months for me, and it hurts as if it was yesterday that she died – perhaps even more. It was so sudden, you see – there was no warning.’

‘There was none for me either,’ she replied. ‘And I’ll tell you something – I shall never get close to anyone again. Friends, yes – they help a lot in times of trouble – but a close relationship, no, never again.’

‘So you don’t subscribe to the “It’s better to have loved and lost than never…” sentiment?’

‘Absolute trash!’ Her response was surprisingly vehement for someone who had seemed so gently spoken.