Chapter
Eleven - Who says Accountants are Dull?
By the 20th January, my mother, John and I were all getting more and more worried. We knew my father was going to live in a hotel when he got back and in those days, people did not lightly make overseas phone calls anyway, so we just waited. On Sunday 22nd, I heard the phone ring downstairs and my mother cry out for me. She wailed something about not understanding and she couldn't hear but it was my father's cousin from Durban on the phone. It was actually his nephew Archie's wife Marge who rang. She said she was sorry to tell me but my father had died that morning. John got me a chair and I was shivering and he put a coat round my shoulders. I tried to listen to what she was saying, but just remember feeling terribly cold and still.
What Marge explained was that my father had collapsed on his arrival at the Durban hotel. He had been taken to a nursing home for tests and it was found he had leukaemia. He was not told this and Marge was told he might have remissions and relapses and it was not necessary to tell him at this stage. She had written to me on the Friday but he died before there was time for us to receive the letter. His death was completely unexpected by the nursing staff and was caused by a sudden embolism to the brain.
Even in my shock, I could not help feeling glad that he had not had to suffer long nor had he been likely to experience much fear. He had never previously been in hospital and would have been very frightened at being ill. Surely this must be the sort of end that everyone would wish for themselves and their loved ones.
My mother was terribly shocked and upset as well. She said she had always been so sure that she would go first as he was so healthy. Of course there was a slight hitch with the money he sent her as while his estate was settled, all his accounts were closed. She had no reason to worry of course as she would have been able to move back in with us and could have left her flat in Lea Bridge Road. She knew that in time the Pension arrangements he had made for her would come into force but there would be a short gap in time before it started. She said she felt really insecure and frightened without my father. Although they were separated she had known he was there, and was strong and capable. Also, having been with him so recently made it much worse for her to accept.
I had two weeks off from work and my mother and I wandered about crying and reminiscing. Jennifer and Michael were very upset, but Cathy kept laughing wildly and made John cross. It seemed to confirm my mother's unfavourable opinion about her. Later Cathy explained that she was worried because everyone seemed so unhappy and she wanted to laugh and be silly to help us lighten the atmosphere!
While Jennifer was in the 5th Form, studying Sociology as well as Art, she took the leading part of Miss Sarah Brown in the school production of 'Guys and Dolls'. Her heart was definitely in acting and she planned to audition for drama school as soon as she finished at 18. She was extremely good in the show, and we were all very proud of her. Even the chilly headmistress, Miss Evans, congratulated her and admitted it was a difficult part and she had done well. My mother was very impressed with her performance especially the drunk scene and the song 'If I were a Bell'.
Another change in my life began in the spring of 1978. I don't know how my feelings for my boss, Jeff, first started. As I have said, he was no oil painting and looked old for his age. Maybe people involved in finance and tax do not age well! Perhaps my interest in him was stirred because although I was certainly not sex starved, I was starved of contented love and satisfaction. I gradually began to think about him in a different light, but knew it was foolish as he was such a steady type, quite apart from the fact of his being married with a young son.
Then by coincidence I read the book 'The Darling Buds of May' with its warm natural exhuberant attitude towards sex and life, and of course the hero, Charlie, who the heroine falls for, is a tax inspector. I seemed to superimpose one with the other in my mind and suddenly saw that Jeff was earthy and sexy although I had not thought of him quite this way previously. I behaved in quite a blatant way. I took the paperback into work and told him how much I had enjoyed it and asked him to read it. He gave it back on a Monday and said he loved it and had read the whole book over the weekend. I had the feeling he knew why I had lent it to him, and from then on the atmosphere between us became more electric. I had to go into his office daily to do the filing and he now had his own small office on the other side of the building from Bob, his sidekick in tax matters. He asked me what I did at weekends, and what my hobbies were, but he seemed nervous and ill at ease.
I tried to answer carefully in such a way that it showed that John and I did not do very much together and then on Jeff's 40th birthday, he took me out to lunch. This was a fairly normal thing to happen between a boss and secretary so no one thought anything about it. We had a pub lunch and he had a drink or two and in the lift going back, he kissed me. My mother knew about all this from the beginning and I am sure was not particularly impressed and could not see how or if it would continue in the circumstances. She probably did not approve but had learned in life to accept most human foibles and had always said that you didn't find out anything more if you showed disapproval of anything you were told anyway. People still went ahead with their plans anyway, they just didn't tell you if you disapproved! It was lucky I had Wednesdays off. I worked four days a week from 10 am until 3pm so that if necessary I could make hair and dental appointments or simply do the weekly shopping unimpeded by children on a Wednesday. So for the next few Wednesdays I met him. He could always leave work by saying he had to see an Inspector of Taxes or check someone's financial records.
We had to meet far from the City of course. We met in Knightsbridge and Kensington Gardens, and also went Eastwards to Wapping and 'The Prospect of Whitby' on one occasion. I asked him there when he had first started to like me and he said it had been from the very first at my interview. I was surprised and could not truthfully say that I had felt the same. There was never any opportunity for fully satisfying this wild passion, there was simply nowhere to go. But all the stimulation stirred me up terribly. I thought about him day and night, wondering if we could meet in the basement where the old files were kept, imagining being with him in an empty train compartment and other improbable situations. He started wearing strong after- shave lotion that I had never noticed before and I hoped desperately the other women would not speculate about this.
I realised he was quite funny and he joked with me a lot and it was hard not to keep smiling. Maybe some of them suspected, but nothing was ever said, and it certainly would not have been given the seal of approval. He was rather like my first boyfriend Keith in that he loved the countryside and sport, but this sign of our incompatibility did not bother me at all. I used to picture us going on muddy walks together and rolling around in the hay on drier days. Then he had a row with the partners at the Accountants which I think was over money and decided to set up on his own as a tax adviser. He had a friend who let him have an office at the top of a building in Covent Garden. He wanted to take his clients with him which was a naughty thing to do of course as they actually were clients of the firm. He took a lot of the files of people who knew and liked him.
Little did the bosses know that they had a Mata Hari in their midst at the times when I took over the switchboard when Ilma had her breaks. Jeff said if anyone asked for him, I must give them his new phone number and address and I did this on several occasions. As usual I had confided my secret to my mother and the only other person I ever told was Mary. My mother said it was unethical to help Jeff pinch clients because my salary was paid by the firm and my loyalty must surely be to them. I saw her point, but was too enraptured to be fair. In a way it had become easier to see him on a Wednesday as I could go to Covent Garden but of course he was working hard to build up his business and he only had time to take me for a quick pub lunch. We were sitting outside on the pavement once when a client came and chatted to him and asked if I were his wife! That was very embarrassing and I was a bit worried that we were not being particularly cautious but he never seemed to have much imagination or to worry about that sort of thing. And of course, he had never actually done anything technically wrong.
After a while, I started to feel that he was so excited about money and work that he was not as bothered about me as I was about him. Of course he was happily married to a nice wife so I had only added a teeny bit of spice to his life, I supposed, whereas there was nothing similar to cheer me. I believed him absolutely when he said he had never before taken an interest in anyone other than his wife, to whom he had been married since he was 22. He was a very decent type and I had always known and understood that there was no question of any permanent relationship between us. He must have felt very safe as he knew that I too was attached, although I tried to justify my interest in him by explaining to him what my marriage was like. I was not the type who would want to upset another woman anyway, but it made me happy just to think and dream about him and simply be glad that someone found me attractive.
My mother returned to Durban again that Summer, again I am not sure quite why, but it may have been connected with her pension and papers that had to be signed. My mother was left very well provided for with a pension larger than the amount she had received from my father when he was alive. However I was the sole beneficiary of my father's Will as far as capital was concerned. I received various communications from his solicitors regarding policies and there were a lot of things I had to sign. My Aunt Isobel who we used to hide from as a child annoyed me a lot. She went in his hotel room after he died and cleared things. Apparently she was the only person allowed in there. She sent me his watch but told me she had taken his Krugerrands. I knew he had bought one for her but one was his and should have passed to me. I think its terribly sordid and crass for people to argue over Wills and legacies and would not lower myself to do so, but it rankled. I would have loved to have had one Krugerrand. She also pestered me about buying his car. There was nothing I could do from thousands of miles away. I told her to get in touch with the Solicitors who were the Executors. The final annoyance came when she wrote to tell me about my father's funeral and how her daughter Jackie, my least favourite younger cousin, had laughed at the graveside because Uncle Archie did not recognise her. I just did not want to hear about people laughing at my father's funeral and thought how stupid and tactless she was to mention it.
After that both my mother and I dropped Aunt Isobel, and I never wrote to her or sent Christmas cards again. My father had left me £12,000 but due to South African law, they took a third of this so I only actually would receive £8,000 and that would be in two parts as certain policies had to mature.
This was the first time I had ever had capital of any kind at all, and it was a horrible way to get it. I couldn't help but realise that now at last I might have the means of leaving John. Flats were very cheap in 1978 and before my mother left, we looked at a few in Walthamstow which were about £8,000. But of course it took about a year even to get the first part of the money.
I would have like to have discussed the idea of separating calmly with John but this just was not possible. Firstly he said we did get on and we had a row about that too! His friend Max said that I had won that round! I don't know if John loved me but he certainly wanted me there and wanted his whole family so that he had a target for his moods and rages. He would never have agreed that we could separate amicably so I knew whatever I did would have to be planned in an underhand way. In 1979 Cathy was about eight and once when she had a row with John and was tearful and upset, she said to me 'Why can't you divorce him?' I explained carefully to her that even if this happened, it would not mean that she would be able to live with me. I told her that he loved her and would fight to have her with him. I thought I had explained it all very well, yet later on she did not remember the conversation at all.
1979 was quite a year. Jennifer auditioned for RADA and Guildhall School of Music and Drama. She did not get in but when she auditioned for Mountview Theatre School which was in Hornsey in North London, she was accepted. She had to apply for a grant and luckily the Borough Drama Advisor who was on the Awards panel had seen her in 'Guys & Dolls' and remembered her. At that time grants were getting harder to obtain so we were very pleased. At first she commuted but it was quite a difficult cross-town journey. Later she fled the nest and shared a flat with two friends.
We had a damp problem in our house and had to move out while a damp course was inserted and floorjoists and boards were treated and replaced. The firm doing the work said it would take six weeks but did not explain that they would not necessarily be consecutive. We had to move out because of the smell of the treatment and as Nanny and Granddad were going on an extended visit to Australia, we went and stayed in their house. When they were due to return nearly four months later, we had to move back home and eat and live in Michael's room at the top with a primus stove balanced on a chair.
It was a very difficult period but when at last we moved back downstairs I received some of my legacy and although I wanted to keep as much as possible for a deposit on the flat I hoped to get one day, I also wanted to buy things for everyone too. I bought a large pine table and chairs and a new fridge freezer for the house. I also bought Barbra a garden set of table and chairs and a garden bench for Nanny and Granddad. Money was generally becoming easier as John had promotion to Deputy Headmaster at a school in Highgate and sometimes I did longer hours at work than I had previously.
1979 was the year that Margaret Thatcher and the Conservatives took over the Government. It was from that time that England seemed to deteriorate. Gradually it became a place where young people slept rough, beggars became more obvious and aggressive, businesses closed and there were more derelict boarded up buildings and shops. Of particular concern to me was the article I read that said that in the year following the the election of Margaret Thatcher, four hundred public toilets closed in the Greater London area. When you are not a motorist, public toilets matter. Especially when you like exploring areas and taking young children with you. When Jennifer was little, my mother and I used to go all over the place on bus Red Rovers, knowing there were toilets at all main junctions, bus stations and termini, but vandalism seemed to get much worse after 1979, or perhaps on the other hand it stayed the same, but the Boroughs were no longer granted sufficient money to do repairs. So life for people like me became more difficult in that respect too. Of course Thatcher fans will say that there is no connection between the 1979 election and the deterioration of so many of the things that made England so pleasant and decent. I am not desperately political and do not want to argue with anyone over politics, but like the old joke, I can say 'I don't know much about politics, but I know what I like!' And I liked England much more before 1979.
In my personal life in 1979, the romance if one could call it that, with Jeff, began to fade away. I still went to see him at his new office in Covent Garden occasionally on a day off and went to lunch with him, but building up his business was definitely his main interest. We liked each other and I quite enjoyed having this little secret in my life but it really was extremely little. A week or two before Christmas I took a card into his office for him and found his wife there who I had not previously met. He seemed quite calm about it and introduced me as his previous secretary from the Accountants. She knew my name as I knew hers, and was sweet and friendly. Actually, she was rather like me in appearance. There was nothing damning on the card so I gave it to him and if she was surprised that we were still in touch, she did not show it. I babbled on about the price of food and shopping to show how incredibly boring I was and rushed away. The strangest thing was the physical effect this encounter had on me. I went burning hot and flaming red from my neck up to the top of my head. I suppose this is called blushing. It has never happened to me at any other time. It started as soon as I left the office and even in the cold December air, took a long time to subside. I didn't see Jeff for the whole of 1980 at all and he did not contact me, so my common sense told me that not only was it all over, but that it had never meant much to him anyway.
My mother had a very good pension based on my father's super-annuation plan and she moved into a studio type flat near Durban's beachfront. It was serviced and she had a large room plus kitchenette and bathroom. She rented a television too, but unfortunately tripped over the cord and had a very bad fall which hurt her foot. This really set her back for a long time and she could not get about easily and was very depressed. For the first time, it was now possible for me to visit her instead of the other way round. In 1980 I asked John if I could go to Durban at Easter while he was at home during the holidays to look after the children. I left instructions regarding bill paying, how to use the washing machine and anything else I thought might help, and went on my very first flight.
I was terribly excited about it and wrote to Nova who said she would meet me at Johannesburg airport while I was changing flights for the Airbus to Durban. The others at work were very enthusiastic too and gave me advice and I asked them questions about air travel. They shrieked with laughter when I asked how you changed into your pyjamas at bed time! I really didn't understand at all. I told my mother I was coming for three weeks and she was overjoyed.
The plane was a Boeing 747. I knew some people were afraid of flying, but I
had no idea how I would feel. However, I never realised how much I would love
the take-off and landing. I was not mad about the wobbly bit when one got up in
the clouds, but the power and excitement and screeching noise of the take-off
is something I loved then and still do. However on smaller Airbus type planes, taking off is not quite so exciting.
At Johannesburg airport I saw Nova right across the concourse in the distance
and we recognised each other straight away. She was still beautiful and well
dressed and she took me to lunch at the airport restaurant. She had changed in
other ways though. She was no longer so vague and dreamy. She had authority in
her voice and manner and was almost intimidating, not to me so much, but I am
sure to the waiters and other people we spoke to at the airport. She had an
important job in Security at the Carlton Centre and was used to deciding things
and giving orders I suppose.
I was astonished at the changes in South Africa in the 21 years since I had left. My mother could only walk very slowly but we managed to get around and it was like a different world. Very upmarket, new paving, modern pavement cafes, fashion shops I had not heard of, hypermarkets that sold everything and the prices were so fantastic. I realised how expensive England was in comparison. My mother and I could eat at a lovely beachfront cafe and could each have a huge hamburger with chips and salad, followed by a cup of tea and it came to the equivalent of about an English pound. I bought wonderful clothes and presents for everyone at home, even the people at work, and it all seemed incredibly cheap. Avocados, which I had always loved, were plentiful and cost about a tenth of the English price and were twice as big.
My mother had a phone in her flat and I rang Clare and Hillary and Dawn. They all came to my mother's flat for the day and I also went to Dawn and Eric's house for dinner one night. Hillary was still a Catholic although this was the last year that she was. She was on the verge of becoming a born again Christian. She had produced six girls. Clare was happily married to an accountant called Colin and had, like Pixie, Jenny Parkhouse and me, produced two girls and a boy. Dawn had two boys and a girl and had not had such a happy life. Eric had been very difficult and had rowed with his children so that one had left home. I could see Dawn was not at all sparkling though she still looked very pretty and nicely dressed. It was lovely seeing everyone again.
I also went into my old workplace, Lyne & Collins, the Solicitors, where I was surprised to find that Mary, the Catholic lady, did not remember me. I had thought she was terribly old when I left there but I suppose she had been about 40 and was now nearing retirement. I remembered them all, so clearly, and was very surprised that she didn't recognise me. Davie Boy however, knew who I was straight away so that was something I suppose. Solicitors had changed too. They no longer wore the quiet business suits I remembered.
The weather was hot and Davie Boy wore a khaki suit with short sleeves and knee length trousers. He looked very tidy and smart though. The colour bar as it was called had lifted slightly. Certain hotels and restaurants were now called 'international' and this status meant that people of all races could sit together there. My mother said how funny it was to see the real dyed in the wool Afrikaner types leap up from their tables before they had finished eating and leave if a quiet black couple came in and sat down at an adjacent table. On the whole though in 1980 the racism was still mostly in evidence. I think all races were allowed on the buses by then, but I am not sure about this. The beaches were still strictly segregated.
Nanny Maria had died and my mother had a new Zulu lady, Beauty, who helped her with certain chores and did her washing and ironing. My mother took me around to meet various of her friends, particularly those who were ill. My mother was 74 but apart from her foot was still very active, but a lot of her friends were not and she had to do most of the visiting. She was so proud of me, it made me very uncomfortable as I could see her friends were indulgent with her but couldn't see what the fuss was about and some were slightly hostile because I had become English and had deserted my mother and South Africa.
When I left, my mother was very unhappy and could not bear to see me off at the airport. I took a taxi to the Air Terminal on my own. I said I would try to come again the next year if I could, but she knew of course that I was hoping eventually to be able to get a flat away from John and would need to be careful with the balance of the legacy in order to carry out my plans.
At home, there were so many rows its difficult to recall the order of them or what they were about. John poured hot tea over me one morning and I rushed upstairs with a red ear and Cathy tried to follow me but he pulled her back. Later he asked me not to let Cathy know we had had a row as he didn't want to upset her. He never seemed to understand that we had intelligent children who could see and hear what happened and knew everything only too well. He was very nasty to me one day when he asked me how much money he would need in France where he was taking one of the children. I said I didn't know as I had never been to France and didn't know what French food would cost or anything about French money. I tried to be helpful and asked 'Will you be eating in a cafe or just buying take-aways?' This seemed to make him very angry and he told me I was stupid and asked stupid irrelevant questions. That time I flared up too and said he had no right to speak to me like that. Later he phoned from work and apologised and said I was quite right, he should not have spoken like that.
But just as I had been very tired of Graham's chopping and changing, I was just very tired of rows and tears and scenes. I never actually hated John, but I did hate living with him. I felt I would get ill if I had to stay much longer, with such seething resentment as I felt over having to be with him against my will. One day over some silly argument he swallowed a whole bottle of aspirin in front of me. I was absolutely furious. My first thought was how I would explain his death to his mother, who would think I must have done something terrible to have caused it. I thumped and thumped him on his back until he bent over double and all the aspirins and stringy saliva fell from his mouth and he begged me to stop thumping.
His mother usually used to visit us on Friday nights and on one of these occasions, John returned a day early from one of his outdoor trips. Naturally I stayed downstairs with his mother who was our guest. I could hear a lot of banging and later went up to see what the noise was. He was in a terrible temper and I think he felt I should have made a fuss of him and gone up to help him unpack. I think he was also hoping for a bit of a cuddle too. I was very surprised as I thought that unreasonable though he was, he would know I had to be polite to his mother. When she left and I went to bed, he ranted on and on and said I had given him VD. I didn't know what he was talking about.
I had not been with anyone apart from him for years and years, and if he had it, it would not have been caught from me. It was just madness on his part. Of course he didn't have it anyway. It turned out he had a small kidney infection. I don't believe he ever really thought it was VD, so why did he say such senseless and upsetting things?