It was still early when Rose glided across the polished floorboards towards the French windows. She pulled her robe around her to fend off the morning chill and gazed across the bay as the first fishing boats slid quietly down the estuary. The sun had just cleared the eastern hills and cast long shadows across the dew covered lawn. She still could hear Rob’s snoring even from the lounge. Time was it would have annoyed her but just after they turned in, she had slipped out of the master bedroom and into the spare room for an undisturbed night’s sleep.
*
It had been a long and arduous drive from London and she still felt stiff and tense. She had collected him from the office in late afternoon. She had called him three times on his mobile before he finally appeared at the entrance looking harassed and edgy and carrying his beloved laptop. He had grunted something as she shoved the stick into first and headed towards the Euston Road.
She finally hit the M4 and nudged it into top whilst he continued dealing with a variety of issues on his mobile. Somewhere south of Bristol he turned it off, tossed it into the glove compartment and said, “I’m sorry, it’s almost the end of the month and Harry wants a complete breakdown of the finances and expenditure. He’d only let me leave if I promised to take my lap-top with me. If I don’t keep in touch, he says he’ll put Charlene in charge. If he does, she’ll engineer a takeover of the section and I’m yesterday!”
“Does this mean you’re going to spend the next seven days plugged into your laptop?”
“Can’t help it. I have to stay on top of things,” he said without a hint of an apology. “If Charlene gets head of section, I’ll be sidestepped and elbowed out at the next re-shuffle. She’s a seriously ambitious bitch. I won’t find another place in the company and I’m too old to get another position in the city, if I go down, we’re out on the street!”
“Surely not,” she began. He sighed with impatience. “I’d get a severance package which would probably clear the mortgage, and then the piggy bank would be empty. You don’t need to be a financial wizard or a psychic to imagine the scene. I know you get fed up with the long hours I have to put in and the laptop switched on at home but the alternatives are a bit grim, aren’t they. Are we stopping to eat?”
“No, we’re only an hour from the cottage. I’ve got some steaks and salad in the cooler box.”
*
She sat in the fireside chair, pulled the rug around her, sipped her coffee and gazed wistfully across the bay. She had never guessed that it might come to this and wondered just how they had gone from a close knit family home to a cavernous shell of a house in three short years. Rob had been promoted a couple of years ago and worked longer hours and the twins had gone off to their separate universities and she had suddenly found herself obsolete. No family dinners to prepare, no clothes to iron, beds to make. After weeks of rattling around the silent house, it was no wonder she had drifted towards the tennis club, no wonder the liveliness and joie de vivre had filled her emptiness and no wonder she had been charmed and captivated by Greg, the bronzed, blond haired Californian tennis coach.
She had caught a reflection of herself in the mirror just after she rose and was surprised at the worry lines and her pallid complexion. She would be forty next birthday, a milestone, the end of her youthful years and the beginning of the second part of her life.
It was their first summer holiday without the kids. James had paid a flying visit a before scurrying off to Scotland to join his pals on a boating holiday around the Western Isles. “Ciao!” he called casually over his shoulder, as he drove away. Julia had gone to Cornwall to stay with her new boyfriend.
“How long are you going for?” Rose had asked her tentatively.
“Dunno. Craig has one of those camper vans parked by the beach. Depends how it works out, there’s a great beach scene down there, great atmosphere, so I might stay on all summer. See how it goes. Can you drive me to the station, mum?” she said, not picking up on her mother’s disappointment.
‘So that’s it, then!’ Rose thought, with a feeling of sadness, ‘end of motherhood, end of family life, end of my usefulness. Have a happy summer.’
*
She stared again across the bay, then on an impulse, pulled her swimsuit on, grabbed a towel, slid the French windows open and strode purposefully towards the beach. The cold water hit her with a jolt and took her breath away. She swam towards mid channel, reached the buoy and clung to its middle rim. She suddenly felt exhilarated and alive as if the powerful exertion of the last few minutes had brought on a surge of revitalisation. Then she pushed away and began her return leg, heading slightly upstream to compensate for the tidal wash.
She walked through the sitting room and into the master bedroom to see Rob sitting up in bed, gazing at his laptop. “Do you......? she began. He put his finger to his lips and pointed to the infernal screen. “Sorry, I have to deal with this. There’s a major problem brewing.”
She walked away, showered, donned her housecoat and made another coffee. “That’s it then,” she thought angrily, ‘if that’s how it’ll be all holiday, I might as well persuade him to go back to the office and maybe, maybe, I could coax Greg down here for a few days!’
She stepped out onto the patio and rang Greg. “Hi Greg, it’s Rose, I’m in Cornwall. I’m all alone for a week, just a thought, but do you want to come down for a few days and erm, liven the place up?”
“Wow Rose, really? Yeah, sure thing! I have to work ‘til 1pm, then I’m free for three days. How be I leave tomorrow morning and be with you late afternoon. What about hubby?”
“He’ll be gone by then, drive safely.”
“Yeah, OK.”
“I’m in Fisherman’s Cottage, in Polreath, just beyond the White Lion. Just make your way here.”
She tingled now with anticipation and excitement, her earlier feelings of being abandoned, now joyfully cast aside like some unwanted baggage. She sat gazing at the river as she sipped her coffee, deep in thought, tossing ideas into the air on how to get rid of Rob. The thought of a few stolen days of romance and attention sent a tingle down her spine.
Suddenly, Rob was standing by the bedroom door, all crumpled hair and still in his pyjamas. “You’ll never guess, Rosie old thing, I’ve had an email from head office, they want me to transfer to the PR section as second in command. Same salary, half the hours and half work load.”
“What about the section?”
“Charlene gets it and she’s welcome. What do you think? I have to let them know before noon?”
“Well, I...” Rose began.
“Yeah, I know, it’s a bit of gamble and it might not work. But hey! If I take it, I’m to start in two weeks’ time. I just have to transfer all the relevant section files to Charlene and then I’m done, I can switch the laptop off.”
“Shouldn’t you go back to London for a few days, talk it over with someone at head office. You ought to get more details, Rob, ask for more time to consider the offer. Go and talk to Harry or...”
He grinned with a new determination, “No, I’m going to take it, it’s too good to miss. I’ll get a shower and then we’ll … Oh, Julia rang while you were swimming, the beach holiday with Craig isn’t working out, could we pick her up at the station at 12.30? Also, she been chatting to James, it’s blowing a gale in the Western Isles, the sailing trip is off and James is coming here down too, he’ll be here tomorrow. Isn’t that great? It’s just going to be like old times, eh?”
*
It had been a long and arduous drive from London and she still felt stiff and tense. She had collected him from the office in late afternoon. She had called him three times on his mobile before he finally appeared at the entrance looking harassed and edgy and carrying his beloved laptop. He had grunted something as she shoved the stick into first and headed towards the Euston Road.
She finally hit the M4 and nudged it into top whilst he continued dealing with a variety of issues on his mobile. Somewhere south of Bristol he turned it off, tossed it into the glove compartment and said, “I’m sorry, it’s almost the end of the month and Harry wants a complete breakdown of the finances and expenditure. He’d only let me leave if I promised to take my lap-top with me. If I don’t keep in touch, he says he’ll put Charlene in charge. If he does, she’ll engineer a takeover of the section and I’m yesterday!”
“Does this mean you’re going to spend the next seven days plugged into your laptop?”
“Can’t help it. I have to stay on top of things,” he said without a hint of an apology. “If Charlene gets head of section, I’ll be sidestepped and elbowed out at the next re-shuffle. She’s a seriously ambitious bitch. I won’t find another place in the company and I’m too old to get another position in the city, if I go down, we’re out on the street!”
“Surely not,” she began. He sighed with impatience. “I’d get a severance package which would probably clear the mortgage, and then the piggy bank would be empty. You don’t need to be a financial wizard or a psychic to imagine the scene. I know you get fed up with the long hours I have to put in and the laptop switched on at home but the alternatives are a bit grim, aren’t they. Are we stopping to eat?”
“No, we’re only an hour from the cottage. I’ve got some steaks and salad in the cooler box.”
*
She sat in the fireside chair, pulled the rug around her, sipped her coffee and gazed wistfully across the bay. She had never guessed that it might come to this and wondered just how they had gone from a close knit family home to a cavernous shell of a house in three short years. Rob had been promoted a couple of years ago and worked longer hours and the twins had gone off to their separate universities and she had suddenly found herself obsolete. No family dinners to prepare, no clothes to iron, beds to make. After weeks of rattling around the silent house, it was no wonder she had drifted towards the tennis club, no wonder the liveliness and joie de vivre had filled her emptiness and no wonder she had been charmed and captivated by Greg, the bronzed, blond haired Californian tennis coach.
She had caught a reflection of herself in the mirror just after she rose and was surprised at the worry lines and her pallid complexion. She would be forty next birthday, a milestone, the end of her youthful years and the beginning of the second part of her life.
It was their first summer holiday without the kids. James had paid a flying visit a before scurrying off to Scotland to join his pals on a boating holiday around the Western Isles. “Ciao!” he called casually over his shoulder, as he drove away. Julia had gone to Cornwall to stay with her new boyfriend.
“How long are you going for?” Rose had asked her tentatively.
“Dunno. Craig has one of those camper vans parked by the beach. Depends how it works out, there’s a great beach scene down there, great atmosphere, so I might stay on all summer. See how it goes. Can you drive me to the station, mum?” she said, not picking up on her mother’s disappointment.
‘So that’s it, then!’ Rose thought, with a feeling of sadness, ‘end of motherhood, end of family life, end of my usefulness. Have a happy summer.’
*
She stared again across the bay, then on an impulse, pulled her swimsuit on, grabbed a towel, slid the French windows open and strode purposefully towards the beach. The cold water hit her with a jolt and took her breath away. She swam towards mid channel, reached the buoy and clung to its middle rim. She suddenly felt exhilarated and alive as if the powerful exertion of the last few minutes had brought on a surge of revitalisation. Then she pushed away and began her return leg, heading slightly upstream to compensate for the tidal wash.
She walked through the sitting room and into the master bedroom to see Rob sitting up in bed, gazing at his laptop. “Do you......? she began. He put his finger to his lips and pointed to the infernal screen. “Sorry, I have to deal with this. There’s a major problem brewing.”
She walked away, showered, donned her housecoat and made another coffee. “That’s it then,” she thought angrily, ‘if that’s how it’ll be all holiday, I might as well persuade him to go back to the office and maybe, maybe, I could coax Greg down here for a few days!’
She stepped out onto the patio and rang Greg. “Hi Greg, it’s Rose, I’m in Cornwall. I’m all alone for a week, just a thought, but do you want to come down for a few days and erm, liven the place up?”
“Wow Rose, really? Yeah, sure thing! I have to work ‘til 1pm, then I’m free for three days. How be I leave tomorrow morning and be with you late afternoon. What about hubby?”
“He’ll be gone by then, drive safely.”
“Yeah, OK.”
“I’m in Fisherman’s Cottage, in Polreath, just beyond the White Lion. Just make your way here.”
She tingled now with anticipation and excitement, her earlier feelings of being abandoned, now joyfully cast aside like some unwanted baggage. She sat gazing at the river as she sipped her coffee, deep in thought, tossing ideas into the air on how to get rid of Rob. The thought of a few stolen days of romance and attention sent a tingle down her spine.
Suddenly, Rob was standing by the bedroom door, all crumpled hair and still in his pyjamas. “You’ll never guess, Rosie old thing, I’ve had an email from head office, they want me to transfer to the PR section as second in command. Same salary, half the hours and half work load.”
“What about the section?”
“Charlene gets it and she’s welcome. What do you think? I have to let them know before noon?”
“Well, I...” Rose began.
“Yeah, I know, it’s a bit of gamble and it might not work. But hey! If I take it, I’m to start in two weeks’ time. I just have to transfer all the relevant section files to Charlene and then I’m done, I can switch the laptop off.”
“Shouldn’t you go back to London for a few days, talk it over with someone at head office. You ought to get more details, Rob, ask for more time to consider the offer. Go and talk to Harry or...”
He grinned with a new determination, “No, I’m going to take it, it’s too good to miss. I’ll get a shower and then we’ll … Oh, Julia rang while you were swimming, the beach holiday with Craig isn’t working out, could we pick her up at the station at 12.30? Also, she been chatting to James, it’s blowing a gale in the Western Isles, the sailing trip is off and James is coming here down too, he’ll be here tomorrow. Isn’t that great? It’s just going to be like old times, eh?”