sUnwanted Truthst (22 page)

Jenny glanced at her watch. ‘Look, I've got to get back for the children Gail. We've got a boy now, Nicky, so I can't stop any longer. Look, why don't we meet up when I come back from holiday? We can catch up properly then. I'd love to hear about your children and the teacher training.' Jenny fumbled in her bag and scribbled her telephone number on a receipt.

‘Where are you going?'

‘Egypt – in January – I'm really looking forward to it.'

‘Wow, how exciting. I'll give you a ring in the February half term then. Have a good Christmas, Jenny. Oh sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I didn't think.'

‘It's O.K. We'll still have a good Christmas for Lorna and Nicky's sake.'

‘See you soon then?' Gail smiled and walked back towards the bus stop.

Driving home Jenny realised that she hadn't given Christmas a thought until now. It would be difficult this year despite what she had said. She thought about Gail and how her life had changed for the better. She said she lived in Portland Road, so she might know something about Martin.

Jenny leapt out of the way as a runaway donkey cart careered down the
souk.

‘We were nearly killed just then,' Robert said, mopping his brow.

‘Look at that shop. It's packed with semi-precious stones, they're so colourful; I'm going over.'

‘ ‘Engleesh – Engleesh, come here, come buy.' They were assailed from all sides.

Jenny felt a hand squeeze her buttock. She grabbed Robert's arm.

‘I've had enough of this Jen, it's so claustrophobic. Let's go back to the hotel.'

‘We haven't been here long, not yet.'

‘It's long enough.'

‘Let's just see what's around this corner, it might be less crowded.'

‘I doubt it. I know what's around the corner – more hassle.'

‘But that's what gives it the atmosphere. Look at those spices, piled in pyramids, I'll buy some later.'

‘Look at that man leering at you. I know exactly what he's thinking. I've a good mind to go and punch him on the nose.'

‘Don't you dare,' Jenny looked up. A large man wearing a
galabiyya
was grinning at her lasciviously from behind the hessian sacks. ‘It's only because we're tourists. I'm wearing a long skirt.'

‘It's not your skirt he's looking at.'

Jenny looked down and fastened the top three buttons on her blouse as they were jostled forward.

‘Ah, Engleesh, Engleesh, come, come take tea with me. Sit in my shop. Try perfume. No buy – no mind – just drink tea.' A tall young Egyptian smiled at them as he stood up from behind his hookah pipe and beckoned them into his shop.

‘Come on, let's go in, he looks nice.' Jenny pulled Robert into the shop where on tiers of shelves stood row upon row of small glass bottles. Every one had a brown label with Arabic writing.

After half an hour of sipping strong sweet tea and Robert discussing the relative merits of Arsenal versus Manchester United with the young man who had introduced himself as Ahmed, they were led over to the shelves.

‘In all these bottles – essence – perfumes. This one, roses from banks of Nile.' He lifted one down, removed the stopper and waved the bottle under Jenny's nose. ‘You like?' He led her to the other side of the shop and took another bottle from the shelf. ‘This one – water lily – smell.'

He then reached up to the top shelf. ‘This one,' he didn't name it, ‘makes husband big and hard, keeps beautiful wife happy.' Jenny blushed as she sniffed the musky aroma.

After five minutes of haggling, they emerged, with Jenny clutching a small parcel.

‘Look out,' Robert shouted as a grey horse bore down on them. ‘That's it Jen, I've had enough. I can't stand it any longer, let's get back. That's if we can ever find our way out of this maze. I reckon we paid about ten times more than we should have done for that,' Robert nodded towards the paper parcel.

*

‘That's the first and last time we go in there. It takes four times as long as it should to buy anything. I hate all that haggling.' Robert removed his sandals and collapsed on the bed.

Their hotel room in the
Sharia Ramses
was large and square. A wooden fan spun on the high ceiling. Long wooden shutters opened onto a small iron balcony. Although they were on the fourth floor, they might just as well have been in the street. Whistles blew and horns blared, drowning out the shouts of the street vendors below.

‘That's what makes it exciting, it's different. I thought it was amazing, so many stalls, and so many people, I'm going back before we go home.' Jenny was sitting at a rattan dressing table. She started to undo the brown wrapping paper, removed the stopper from the bottle and dabbed some perfume in the hollow of her neck and on the insides of her wrists.

‘You can't possibly go back in there on your own. God knows what would happen to you. I'd probably never see you again.'

‘Don't be so ridiculous. I'd be fine. They don't mean any harm. They're just trying to make a living.'

‘Can you close the shutters Jen? Let's try and have a bit of peace for an hour.'

Jenny went over and pulled the shutters towards her. The room darkened, and the sounds from below muffled to a low blur. She felt her way over to the bed and lay down beside Robert. After a few seconds he turned to kiss her, and began unbuttoning her blouse. Jenny lifted herself making it easier for him to remove her clothes.

‘Look Jen, the perfume's worked.' Robert smiled at her as he sat up and removed his shorts. ‘He wasn't having us on after all. Mmm, I can't wait.' He fell on top of her, covering her mouth with his own.

*

‘Christ, that was good for you too, wasn't it?'

‘Yes, it was.' Feeling his detumescence slipping out of her, she wrapped her arms tightly around his back and started pushing against him again.

‘Not just now Jen, later.'

Jenny reached across to the bedside table for the box of tissues.

Jenny dozed intermittently, while Robert slept. Tiny chinks of light from gaps in the shutters flashed onto the dark wooden floor. They hadn't made love like that for a long time. They'd hardly had sex at all for the past year. She knew he loved her, and after today, she could hardly complain that he couldn't satisfy her sexually. She just wished that they were soulmates; that they had more in common apart from the house and children. He hardly knew a dandelion from a daisy, and she knew that he wasn't excited about being in Egypt – he would rather have had a holiday in England. But it was impossible to have everything. He was a good husband and she must be grateful. Life could be a hell of a lot worse. She smiled as she thought about Lorna and Nicky – their absence ironing out their imperfections.

Robert stirred and flung an arm across Jenny's breasts. ‘Why is sex in the afternoon so much more satisfying?'

‘It feels decadent I suppose.'

‘I've been looking forward to this break for weeks. I was hoping that… you know, we'd get back together again properly, like this.'

‘It might also have something to do with the fact that Lorna and Nicky aren't around,' Jenny added.

‘Yes, that's true; and we're not worn out. If only it could be like this all the time. Perhaps it will be – now you've got that perfume?' He laughed out loud and rolled her left nipple between his thumb and forefinger. ‘I think we ought to make more effort when we get home. It was a good idea of yours to get away. We both needed it, thank you.'

‘Don't thank me, thank Mum and Dad; if it wasn't for them, we wouldn't be here.'

‘I'm sure that they'd be pleased that we're enjoying ourselves.'

Jenny got up and walked over to the shutters. A
muezzin
was calling the faithful to prayer from a minaret. She blinked as the late afternoon sun blinded her, and then stepped back as she realised her breasts were bare.

‘Don't open them Jen, not yet. Come back here.'

The next four mornings followed the same pattern. They visited the Pyramids and Sphinx; had the obligatory camel rides; took a
felucca
trip on the Nile, and then returned to their bedroom for the afternoons. On the fifth morning as they stepped out of their hotel foyer, a cold wind from the north east whipped down the street. They shivered, returned to their room for their jumpers, and booked the overnight train to Luxor.

*

Their hotel stood on the eastern bank of the Nile at the southern end of the
corniche.
Every time they left the foyer they were besieged by
caleche
drivers, offering their services into town.

‘Look we want to walk for a while, go away,' Robert shouted, waving his arms around.

‘No walk, you English, no walk, I have good horse.' An elderly man, his head wrapped around with a black and white chequered turban, stood up in his carriage and beckoned them over.

‘I think we better take it Robert. He sounds angry. It can't be that much money.'

‘Alright then,' he sighed.

They scrambled up into the carriage. The driver cracked his whip and, with them both clutching the sides the
caleche,
careered down the road.

‘Luxor Temple, please,' Robert shouted above the sound of the horse's hooves.

The driver dropped them outside the Winter Palace Hotel, tapping his watch furiously.

‘How much?' asked Robert.

‘Ten pound – English.'

‘Not bloody likely – ten Egyptian pounds.' Robert thrust some notes into the man's gnarled hand and grabbed Jenny's arm.

‘Horse, money for horse, horse hungry,' the driver shouted after them.

‘Can't they just leave us alone? Thieves all of them,' Robert said as they crossed the road, dodging cars and
caleches,
all seemingly intent on not wanting them to see another day. A group of cruise boats sat at anchor below the promenade.

‘I think in the future, we must agree a price before we get on. Look, there's a pied kingfisher. Do you see it?' Jenny pointed towards a large black and white bird perched on the anchor rope of a cruise boat. ‘Let's sit down here.'

‘Baksheesh, baksheesh,'
two barefoot boys immediately ran over to them, their hands stretched out in front of them.

‘Go away, scram.' Robert waved them away, but they stood firm.

‘I might have some pens in my bag.' Jenny rummaged through her shoulder bag and produced two biros. The boys beamed.

‘Imshi, imshi,'
an old man shouted and limped over to where they were seated, waving his stick. The boys ran off.

Jenny stared at the distant mountains on the far side of the Nile. ‘That must be the Valley of the Kings on the other side of the river. Let's book a trip for tomorrow?'

‘Yes, we'd better make the most of our time here. Let me know when you're ready and we'll cross back over to the temple. If we stay here any longer we'll be pestered again.' Robert looked around anxiously.

‘Have you noticed how all the women are covered in black?' Jenny said as they passed a group chattering amongst themselves.

‘No,' he grimaced.

‘Well they are, all of them. I wonder why. Are you alright?'

‘I need the toilet Jen. My guts were dodgy after breakfast. I thought I'd be alright.'

*

For two days Robert lay prostrate on the bed apart from numerous sorties to the toilet. Jenny made drinks of
kakaday
– a tea made from hibiscus flowers – which had been recommended by the hotel reception. She spent her days in the hotel garden, watching the barges chugging up the Nile, laden with sugar cane and livestock. Training her binoculars on the water birds that lurked in the green fringes of the river, she listed them in the back page of her
Birds of Europe and North Africa
book. She relished the jewelled green and turquoise of the bee-eaters, and the pink, black and white of the hoopoes, thinking how exotic they looked, well, apart from the black and white wagtail bobbing about her feet, waiting for titbits. She remembered there had been one in the churchyard the afternoon she had met Martin again. She thought about him every day, but distance made him seem unreal. Here, she could give all her attention to Robert. The distant mountains gradually changed colour – from sandy yellow in the morning, to the colour of mustard around midday, and finally golden, as the sun disappeared behind them. On the third day Robert felt well enough to get dressed and eat a few mouthfuls of hummous. In the afternoon, he walked into the garden and found Jenny sitting on a sun-lounger.

‘So this is where you've been hiding yourself. What are you doing?'

‘I'm making a note of the birds I've seen. I've seen over twenty just from here. Karnak was amazing this morning, Robert. I wish you'd been well enough to come. Enormous pillars, covered with hieroglyphics; the site went on for ever. I've taken lots of photos, but they won't do it justice.'

‘It's a shame we haven't got more time.' He bent down and placed his arm around her.

‘Well, we can always come back when the children are grown. We can see the Valley of the Kings then. They'll still be here,' Jenny smiled up at him.

Jenny couldn't settle. After a perfunctory wipe of the dining room table, she returned to the kitchen to finish scraping the remains of toast from the breakfast plates. She then hovered in the hall before going upstairs. Her ears bristled as she heard the letterbox open.
That sounds like it
, she thought, and rushed back down. A single brown envelope lay on the doormat. She picked it up and ripped the envelope open. A grin spread across her face as she read the flimsy piece of paper, savouring every word. When she was satisfied that she had saturated herself with the good news, she walked into the lounge and picked up the telephone.
You idiot, they're not there, you can't tell them
. Seven – seven – two – five – three – eight; seven – seven – two – five – three – eight. Her parents' telephone number was embedded in her memory. She wondered how many more years would pass before she would no longer be able to recall it. She sat down on the sofa and stared out of the window. The postman on the opposite side of the road was looking intently at the addresses on a bundle of envelopes.
This is when you really miss them
, she thought,
when you want to tell them good news.

She walked up the stairs to the second floor of the house and into the spare room. It wasn't used as a bedroom as the ceiling sloped too steeply to the window frames at either end. For the past eighteen months they had rented it to an actor for storage. He rarely put in an appearance, and if it hadn't been for his quarterly cheques, they would have assumed he'd forgotten about his possessions. To the right of the door was a built-in cupboard. Manoeuvring her way around the cardboard boxes Jenny opened the white painted doors. Stale cigarette smoke and pheromones were released. She was back inside her parents' flat. She buried her nose in the lapel of her father's check jacket and inhaled. ‘I haven't lost you. I just wanted to tell you that I passed my exams,' she said out loud.

Jenny moved the coat hanger along, revealing a plain navy blue dress, complete with a marcasite brooch in the shape of a lily. Her mother always wore this when she wanted to look smart. Hanging next to the dress was her father's best grey suit – a white handkerchief peeped out of the breast pocket – he had worn it at her mother's funeral. Quickly she moved the suit along. There was her wedding outfit, a straight turquoise skirt and jacket. Folded over a double hanger, hung a pair of casual brown trousers that her mother had always worn around the flat. Jenny had visited the cupboard several times since her parents had died. The last time had been when they returned from Egypt. If they had still been alive, she would have called on them, and excitedly explained every photograph. Instead, when Robert and the children were occupied, she had come to this room and told these shrouds instead. She supposed she would have to get rid of them eventually – but not yet.

*

‘I've got some good news.' Jenny grinned as she greeted Robert in the hallway.

‘Let me guess – David and Corinne have called off their wedding.'

‘No – well at least if they have, we haven't been told. I've passed my exams.'

‘Well done Jen, I knew you would.' He leant over and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Let's have a drink to celebrate. I'll just go and get changed.'

‘I'll get the drinks.'

‘Does that mean you'll be leaving Celia?' he said as he came through the lounge door adjusting a maroon jumper over his cords.

‘No, I haven't even thought about that. It's too far ahead. I've only just received the results.'

‘You're not thinking about working more days are you? I'm not sure that would be a good thing. The children are still young.'

‘No Robert – I've just said, I'm not thinking about anything like that. I'm quite happy with my three days at the moment.'

‘Good.'

‘But, I'll probably want something more in a year or two; once Nicky starts at secondary school. This widens my options. I could try for a job in Brighton then, one with prospects.'

‘We can manage – money wise. There's no need for you to work more days.'

‘It isn't only about money Robert. Anyway talking about secondary schools I thought we might have heard today about Lorna.'

‘I want to go to Varndean. Sarah and Emma are going there and we can't be separated.' Lorna came into the room clutching a dark brown plastic horse which she placed on the coffee table. Nicky trailed behind her.

‘Go and lay the table, you two. We'll be in after we've had our drinks. Lorna, don't forget that Emma lives directly opposite the school. We're on the edge of the catchment area here, so you'll just have to wait and see.'

‘She'll get in Jen,' Robert said picking up the newspaper from the sofa.

‘What's for pudding?' Nicky looked up.

‘Do as you're told. Go and lay the table or you won't have any,' Robert sighed from behind the paper.

‘I know what it is,' said Lorna, ‘I saw Mummy making it – it's Angel Delight – your favourite, and I'll eat yours if you're not having any.'

‘Lorna, stop winding him up,' Jenny shouted as they disappeared.

‘It says here that there's a model exhibition at Horsham this Sunday, shall we go?' Jenny didn't answer immediately. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't work up any enthusiasm about different sized gauges and bogies. But they'd agreed on holiday they would both make more of an effort, and Robert was always pleased when she did go with him.

‘Well, what do you think then?' Robert looked directly at Jenny.

‘I'm going horse-riding with Sarah on Sunday,' Lorna said coming back into the room.

‘Yes, I'll come.'

‘Good.'

‘I like it best when you come with us Mum,' Nicky followed his sister.

‘If we're going to Horsham, I'd like to stop off at Oreham Common on the way back. The clocks go forward next weekend, so it will be lighter in the evenings. Once I hear the chiff-chaffs, I know that spring's here.'

‘That's boring,' said Nicky, going over to the television.

‘Well, we can have a game of cricket, while Mum wanders around,' said Robert.

‘For God's sake Nicky, how many times have I told you not to switch the television on before dinner?' Jenny snapped.

‘Come on son let's go and eat,' Robert placed the newspaper on the coffee table. ‘Do you want to come down to the cellar and help me paint the station fence afterwards?'

*

Lorna lay on the floor in front of the gas fire reading
How to Care for your Pony
, the plastic horse at her side. Jenny sat on the sofa and regretted shouting at Nicky. It wasn't him she was annoyed at. It was Robert. She was irritated that as soon as she had told him about passing her exams, he said that he didn't like the idea of her working more hours. Of course she had thought about leaving Celia, but the present arrangement suited her. Celia was flexible about the school holidays. If she was to leave, they would be a problem; especially now that Mum and Dad were no longer around. Obviously, Robert didn't want things to change, and they could manage financially, but she couldn't work for Celia for ever. She wanted more of a challenge, and to meet different people. She looked down at the coffee table. Her eyes rested on the newspaper headline – “Argentine Flag raised in South Georgia”. Moving the paper to one side, she picked up a booklet. She missed the stimulation of studying, and had been thinking about signing up for a four week course. She turned to the page “Habitats and Wildlife”, “starts Tuesday April 20
^th
”.
She would phone the next day and book a place.

‘Look Mummy, I've plaited his mane.' Lorna waved the plastic horse in the air.

Jenny bent down and removed a diary from her bag. She thumbed through the pages and pencilled the course in, adding a question mark. She flicked back a page. Friday April 16
^th
. The date had stayed in her mind since she had read the inscription on Martin's mother's gravestone.
That's four days after Easter Monday
. There was a chance that Martin would visit the churchyard that afternoon. He had been there in the afternoon before. She remembered a conversation with Gail at half term. They had been sitting in the bow-window of a coffee shop in George Street. After fifteen minutes of listening to Gail's tales of difficult children, she had said, ‘Oh by the way, do you remember Martin Barretti from the youth club years ago? I met him again in November in West Blatchington churchyard, where Mum and Dad are buried.'

‘Did you?' Gail looked intently at Jenny. ‘That must have been a shock. What was he doing there? I didn't know he lived around here anymore, he moved away – years ago.'

‘He told me his parents came back about ten years ago.'

‘I remember you were really keen on him weren't you?'

‘Oh that was ages ago. We were just kids. I just wondered if your parents or cousin had heard anything about them – you know – living near.'

‘No, I haven't heard anything, but Mum might have. I'll ask her. Oh, I must tell you about the parents of this little boy in my class, you'll never believe this.'

Nicky ran into the lounge, jolting Jenny back into the present. ‘Dad's just coming up, we've finished painting the fence.'

*

A week later another brown envelope dropped through the letterbox together with a sky blue airmail letter. Jenny opened the brown envelope first and gave a sigh of relief that she wouldn't have to deal with Lorna's tears later. “Lorna's place at Varndean School for September 1982 has been confirmed”. She took the letters into the kitchen and sitting down at the table opened the letter from Dido. Jenny's eyes quickly scanned the initial pleasantries until she reached the second paragraph:

‘Oh no – poor Dido, that's awful,' Jenny spoke out loud. She put the letter down and reflected on her own life. What did she have to complain about? Nothing – she had two healthy children and a steady husband. She wished that she could visit Dido – but Kansas – no, it just wasn't possible.