14 - Don't Know What To Say

Sometimes I just don't know what to say so I'll just say nothing ... and write down the next part of Arthur Bayly's story ... continued from yesterday's blog ...

"No, no, no, Dad. A man," said Martin, smiling through the tears that had started down his cheeks. He wiped his hand on over his face quickly. "It's a man, a bloody man."

"Oh, Martin, there's no need to swear…"

"I'm sorry Dad, but she says she's fallen in love with him. She wants to leave me," said Martin quickly. "There, I've said it. I was too scared to think it, now I've said it!"

"Oh, Martin, golly …" said Arthur, feeling out of his depth. "Oh, son, oh, gosh."

"Yes, gosh and bugger and damn!" said Martin. "It's all a bit … bloody much. Sorry Dad, I just want to use every swear word I know. What else can I say?"

"Yes, yes I suppose these times are what swear words are for," said Arthur, seeing the pain on his son's face and the need for comic relief. He felt he should comfort Martin, somehow, but wasn't sure what to do. "Can I help?"

"Well, actually Dad, right now, I'd like a great big hug!" Arthur nodded dumbly and both men stood and hugged each other for the first time in twenty years. Arthur could feel Martin's sobs shaking his body. He patted Martin's back, feeling decidedly awkward but not wanting to pull away.

"Oh, hell Dad, this is such a mess," said Martin through is tears, "and I'm supposed to be here to support you two."

"Look, Martin," said Arthur standing back with his hands on Martin's shoulders. "We've had four deaths here in the last day ..."

"Four deaths?"

"Yes, four. I've lost my job. I think I ended someone's criminal career. Your grandmother has died and now your, ah, situation," said Arthur, finding clarity through the confusion. "None of us quite knows what to do about any of it. And, as they say, if you're at the crossroads and don't know what to do, do nothing," he said wondering who they were and where he'd heard that before … maybe he just made it up.

"You've lost your job, Dad?" asked Martin, picking up on one piece of Arthur's speech. "Ah, yes, you said something last night."

"Yes, well, they put it down to the credit crunch and having to cut back," said Arthur. "Coincidentally I want me out too. Of course, I'm worried about the money but I just don't want to go back, not ever again."

"Hell, gosh, Dad, I thought you'd never leave that place," said Martin, probably relieved to be talking about someone else's problem.

"Mmm, nor did I!" said Arthur, dropping his hands and wiping his tear-streaked cheeks. "I don't know quite what to do, actually. But, being the wise old man that I am, I'm doing nothing. Just cogitating on it at the moment."

"Hmm, maybe that's what I probably need to do right now," said Martin, plumping himself down on the sofa. "Just stop trying to fix everything, just get through the day."

"Very wise," said Arthur, stepping aside as cups of tea and a plate of biscuits were brought in.

"Thank you children, now you can bring your glasses of juice in, if you like," said Joan, sitting beside Martin.

"But they might spill juice on the carpet, we can't have that," said Martin, reverting to his more usual control-self.

"Darling, with what's happened, do you think spilled juice is a big concern right now?" asked Joan handing him his cup of tea.

"No, I don't suppose so," Martin said, smiling.

"Now, dear, weren't you off to a conference somewhere?" asked Joan.

"Oh, yes I was, a conference in Geneva for four days but I'm not going now, I've cancelled out," said Martin. "Seems like there's enough going on here at the moment!"

"And do the children know?" asked Arthur, quietly, as they left to get their drinks.

"Oh, sort of. They think Mummy wants a holiday for a while," said Martin, sighing. "I just can't bring myself to tell them … or even what to say. I don't think I'm dealing with it very well."

"What did Mary tell the children?" asked Joan. "She must have said something to them."

"I don't think she said anything," said Martin. "She just turned up in the evening, a bit late, acted normal with them, put them to bed, told me her news, stayed the night and left in the morning. I don't even know when she's coming back to get her stuff or what's going on. All I know is that he's an Australian and she met him through work, somehow."
"Oh, Martin, you poor thing, you must be feeling so confused," said Joan, putting her arm around his shoulder.

Uncharacteristically, Martin leaned into her as the children returned. "Are you crying, Daddy," asked Timothy.

"Oh, no, not really," said Martin, wiping his face quickly. "Just feeling a bit tired, Timmy. Now, did you know that Grandad is a hero - he caught a criminal for the police yesterday."

"Grandad did?" asked Kate, wide-eyed.

"You did?" asked Timothy, wide-eyed.

"Well, it wasn't quite like that," said Arthur, embarrassed. "I just happened to be there and he sort of stumbled over me." Martin picked up his paper and read the article out - an article that was remarkably accurate considering no reporters were there, thought Arthur. And it did, he thought, make him sound very heroic. As Martin showed everyone the photo, Arthur wondered who took it - it showed him talking to the mother and child on the park seat and identified them as the people he had saved from this dangerous and wanted criminal.

----------------------------

The telephone cut across their conversation with its electronic insistence and the three adults looked at each other in mute surprise, as if insulted that the outside world should interrupt them … surprised, even, to be reminded that another world existed outside their several dramas. Children react quicker, in the moment, having less history to drag along with them and so Timothy found himself bounding, like a gazelle, out the door and into the dining room, to answer the phone.

"Hello, Timothy here," he said as he had been taught. He was soon back in the lounge, sipping on his drink.

"Timothy, who was that on the phone?" asked Martin, the first to arouse himself.

"Oh, it was a wrong number," said Timothy, importantly, "they wanted Arthur Bayly and so I said he didn't live here."

"Ah, Timothy," said Arthur, "I'm Arthur Bayly."

"But you're Grandad," said Timothy, confused.

"Timothy!" said Martin, in irritation, "you don't answer other peoples' phones. Haven't I told you that before! It's not your property so leave well alone."

Timothy began to sob and Joan picked him up and held him on her knee. "Would you like another piece of cake, dear? And Kate?" Timothy hopped down and he and his sister leaped upon the sponge cake with enthusiasm.

"Hey, you two!" said Martin, his voice steadily rising, "put that down, now, you know better than to scoff it down like yobbos!"

The children stopped, stunned, with cake and cream on their faces and hands, looking guilty and confused.

"Put it down, now!" yelled Martin, going quite red. "Now go and wash yourselves up. You know better than that, don't you!"

"Come on, dears," said Joan cheerfully, "let's get your faces sparkling clean, shall we?" The children followed meekly, furtively looking back at their father.

As they walked out the phone sounded again and Timothy leaped forward, unable to resist his instinctive fight or flight reaction to the phone.
"Timothy! Stop!" yelled Martin, leaping up. "I told you to leave the phone!"

"It's alright Martin," said Arthur, getting up and striding across the room and out to the phone. He patted Timothy on the head as he passed. "You'll make someone a grand secretary one day, won't you?" he said, smiling down at the boy.

Timothy went red and smiled, embarrassment mixed with gratitude all over his face, as Arthur picked up the phone.

"Good morning, Arthur speaking."

"Ah, Arthur, I thought I might have a wrong number," came the unmistakable voice of Mary Collins. AIL Insurance seemed such a long way off, now, almost off the new map his life was drawing.

"No, it was my grandson, Timothy ..."

"Yes, well, good to talk to you, Arthur," said Mary. "I heard you've had a bereavement. Are you OK?"

"Oh, yes, well, we've had a few things happen and ..."

"Yes, yes, OK, I'm sure it's been a particularly trying time, then," said Mary, bulldozing through the conversation as usual. "Now, Arthur, there has been … ah, a new development with that Atkinson case you were working on and we'd like, ah, we wondered if you'd like to give us a little more help with clearing up the loose ends. You've got such a lot of experience in that area."

"Oh, well, I thought I was off the case," said Arthur, tentatively, unsure of his position now.