Christmas passed. New Year's 1971 came and all the festivities were meaningless to me. I continued to feel blue. Acutally, I don't know why they say âblue' when it's more like grey. The year of 1971 was to be a year of many changes for me. My feelings of inadequacy and boredom turned to resentment and jealousy. I came to hate how Heather and Bob could laugh together so easily as if they were sharing private jokes. Suspicions set in and I began nagging Bob in private. Meaningful conversation between us had all but disappeared, not that we had all that much to begin with. I guess all he could see was my totally negative side and he couldn't see any reason for it. I couldn't have explained it to him at the time anyhow, since I didn't quite know what was going on inside of me. Mother Radcliff even showed an open disgust for me because on different occasions, I had rebelled and refused to perform my social duties. But that was okay because I was just as disgusted with her and her snobbish friends and her card games and her charitable works, done only so she would be identified as a philanthropist. All these people lived for one or two things: money and power. They were hypocrites, all of them. Charming to each other when they were face to face, but get them into separate rooms and their tongues could cut like knives. They were such superficial people.
Yes, I became quite adept at this, seeing all the negative sides of everybody and critizing them to high heaven to myself. It occurred to me that I had thoroughly criticized the native people and here I was, now doing the same thing to white people. Maybe that's what being a half-breed was all about, being a critic-at-large.
I suppose things could have continued like that for a long time but in August, I overheard a conversation between Mother Radcliff and Heather that âroused me out of my passive state' and got me fighting mad. A few days earlier, Bob and I had had a big fight. To make up for it, Bob had decided to take time off work and take me out for the day. We had planned to start out right after breakfast. I was amused at Mother Radcliff's obvious chagrin. But then Bob and I had another difference of opinion in our bedroom that morning and he left in his car without me. I was so embarrassed that I stayed in my room, planning to wait until Bob returned. Our bedroom, on the second floor, had a covered balcony which overlooked a private garden. I had moved to the balcony when the maid had come to clean our room.
It was about noon when I heard a car drive up. I checked to see who it was and saw Heather walking up to the front door. I wondered why she was here. I knew she and Mother Radcliff didn't have that close a friendship that they would lunch together. I went back to the lounge to continue reading, curious about what was going on downstairs. I didn't have long to wait. They came out into the garden below, where we sometimes had our lunches. Their voices drifted up to me and I could clearly hear everything they were saying.
“I would like to get straight to the point. Is this affair with Bob serious or are you just toying around with him?” The voice was Mother Radcliff's.
An affair? With Bob? Serious? I couldn't believe I was hearing right. Not Heather. She was my friend. Bob was my husband.
“Of course it's serious. And there's nothing you can do about it, this time. You knew how we felt about each other when you broke us up before. And don't deny it. I'm not as naive as I used to be. No, it won't be long before Bob asks April for a divorce.” Heather sounded smug.
“As I told you on the phone, I have no intentions of breaking anything up. As a matter of fact, I fully approve. But it doesn't appear that a divorce will take place all that soon when he starts taking time off work to spend with her,” Mother Radcliff responded.
I heard Heather scoff at that and say, “Well, he's taken a lot more time off for me, I'm sure. But I can't help wondering how come, now that he's married, you approve of Bob and me? I know you purposely went out of your way to have me at that New Year's party. What do you have against April, anyways? Why don't you want her for a daughter-in-law? I just want to know so I don't make the same mistake she's obviously made.”
“Didn't you notice her sister? They're Indians, Heather. Well, not Indians but half-breeds which is almost the same. And they're not half-sisters. They have the same father and the same mother. That's the trouble with mixed races. You never know how they're going to turn out. And I would simply dread being grandmother to a bunch of snivelling little half-breeds! The only reason I can think of why Bob married her after knowing what she was, was simply to get back at me. This has been on my mind since the first time I saw her sister. I had hoped that, that a natural course would have followed and that Bob would come to reason it out my way. I certainly don't know what he sees in her to have remained married to her all this time.” Mother Radcliff sighed as if she had suffered so much. Then she continued. “Well, I had my doubts as to how serious he was with you because of days like today.”
Heather shrugged it off. “So, you knew all about it. Well, don't worry. Bob's a husband with a guilty conscience. He'll realize that April's not in our league and the best thing for her is a divorce. I'll make sure.”
“Yes, I suppose you're right. Of course, we'll give her a nice large settlement to pacify her.”
âYou are so bloody right,' I almost shouted. Perhaps they said more about me, I don't know. With my face burning hotly and my heart pounding like a war drum, I headed downstairs to confront them. They were both surprised and off-balance when I stepped out on the terrace to face them.
I had always treated Heather with a certain amount of awe and respect, even after my suspicions had set in because I had hoped it was all my imagination. And I had also given Mother Radcliff her due respect. But in that moment, I eyed them contemptuously and they realized I had overheard them.
“What are you doing here?” Mother Radcliff asked.
I was still breathing hard. Ignoring her question, I said, “You two make me sick!”
I looked at Heather. “You, you pretended friendship all this time. I trusted you! Oh sure, I suspected. I'm not blind. But I thought it was my imagination. I hoped it was my Imagination. That Bob's mother would rather have a person like you, a hypocrite, an adultress, as her daughter-in-law, rather than risk a few grandchildren who would have Indian blood in them, well, that's beyond my comprehension.”
“Now, there's no need⦔ Mother Radcliff started to cut in.
I turned on her and cut her off. “And you! You make everyone that comes within your reach into puppets. But thank you very much for cutting my strings. And thank God I didn't become pregnant by your son. I wouldn't want the seed of your blood passed on to my children!” With that, I turned my back on them in a deliberate gesture and walked out.
A little later, when I was up in my room I heard Heather's car start up and she drove away. My heavy breathing returned to normal. My trembling rage subsided. I had to figure out what to do. Only one thing was certain. They were going to give me a large settlement. A very large settlement!
Well! I had seen through them, yet didn't even know it. All my criticisms were justified. My big fight with Bob had been about Heather. Turned out, he was a liar, too. Just like my parents had been. Married me only to get back at his mother. Heather, deceiving me with friendship, while all the time she only wanted Bob. Mother Radcliff, making me call her âmother' when she so detested what I was. And then there was Cheryl. She had told me how it would be but I hadn't believed her. And although I had the same thoughts as Barbara Radcliff about children, it was unforgivable for her to tell them to someone like Heather. I did have a fear of producing brown-skinned babies. How could I give my loving to such children when I still felt self-conscious about Cheryl? Well, this wasn't the real issue. I had to plan a course of action. First thing I'd have to do would be to see a lawyer.
I called Ronald Feldman, whom I heard from past conversations, was a good divorce lawyer. I phoned him and he said he couldn't see me for two weeks but he suggested that if I were serious about filing for divorce on the grounds of adultery that I should cease living with Bob, I thought that meant I had to move out immediately.
Next I phoned Bob at work. I wasn't surprised to find him there, nor that he was cold and distant with me. I demanded that he come home at once as an urgent matter had come up. While I waited for him, I looked through the newspapers and phoned to inquire about different apartments for rent. The thought of living in a huge empty place was depressing. I didn't know anyone who would go out of their way to come and visit me. What I also needed was a job to keep me occupied. Still, I knew from past experience that evenings could be long and lonely. Maybe I would get so lonely I'd join the ranks of women who frequented singles bars. I spotted a column under the heading of âShared Accommodation'. That would be better than living alone. I phoned and was able to make some appointments for the following day. For now, I could stay in a hotel. I looked forward to a new life where I wouldn't be controlled by anyone else. I felt as if the sun were coming out from behind the clouds and it was a wonderful relief to know that there was still a sun. Aloud, I said, “Oh, I know you didn't mean to, âMother' Radcliff, but you've made me a happy woman.”
When Bob finally came home, I must have sparkled with excitement because he said, “I thought something was wrong, the way you sounded on the phone. But you look like the cat that swallowed a mouse.”
“Well, Bob, I understand you're about to ask me for a divorce. I'll save you the trouble of having to ask.”
“Oh, not that crap about Heather again. Is that what this is all about?” he turned from puzzled to angry, instantly.
“Well, sweetheart, if you like, I could call a meeting of all those involved: We are gathered here today to establish whether there is or there is not an affair going on between my loving husband, Bob, and my good friend, Heather. I was planning to be very bitter about all this but I've changed my mind. I'm going to be sarcastic, instead.” I smiled as I watched Bob sit down, his anger now dissipated.
The look on his face acknowledged the affair. “How did you find out? Did Heather tell you?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes. And your mother told me. And in a lot of different ways, you told me, too,” I said. “I would appreciate it if you took me to a hotel for now. I'll look for a place to stay and then I'll send for my things.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? We could talk⦔
“We can't talk. We never could and we're not going to start now. Are you going to drive me to a hotel or do I have to get a taxi?” I asked coldly.
“Don't you even want to make any explanations to Mother before you leave?”
“I'm sure your mother knows I'm leaving. I've packed a few things and I'd like to go. Now!”
In less than a week, I had found a place to my liking. It wasn't far from the subway on Woodbine Avenue so I had easy access to the downtown area where I planned to find a job. The rooms were in a large three-storey house and the kitchen and dining room were shared by all the tenants, as were the laundry facilities. Most of the men and women who lived there were artistic, intelligent and sociable. They created a homey, atmosphere with their friendliness and willingness to be helpful to each other. Once I was settled in, I turned my thoughts to finding myself some employment. Money wasn't a problem because Bob had given me more than I'd ever need and that was just for one month. One of the others boarders, Sheila, suggested I do temporary work like she did. I signed up with her agency and was sent to different locations, filling in for absent secretaries.
Mr. Feldman, my lawyer, told me in December that the court hearing was to be held on January 26th. He assured me that everything was going extremely well. We were both pleased with the settlement Bob had offered. I remembered the time I was starting at the Red River Community College and I had eight hundred dollars in the bank. I had thought then that I was rich. And independent.
That same day, when the mail came, I found that the letter I had sent to Cheryl in November had been returned. On it was marked: Moved - no forwarding address. That was strange. Why hadn't she written to me to let me know? Or she could have called. I had given her my new phone number and address and had told her about my situation. She should have written or called. After all her thinly disguised refusals and excuses why she couldn't come or why I couldn't visit her, I began to feel like my own sister was giving me the cold shoulder. Did she think I was such a failure? On the other hand, I had always said she ought to go her own way and I'd go mine. Maybe that's what was wrong.
Since Cheryl didn't write to me about any Christmas plans, I spent it with the other boarders who also lacked families to go home to. On Christmas Day, we all went to an Old Folks Home where Sheila's grandmother was living. That's when I got my first understanding of how Cheryl must have felt when she made somebody's day.
On Saturday morning, in early January, I received a phone call at eight o'clock. Thinking it was probably the agency looking for last minute secretarial help, I was tempted to let it ring. But I wasn't one who could ignore a ringing telephone. In a second, I was wide awake. It was a nurse calling from the Health Sciences Centre in Winnipeg, asking if I were related to a Cheryl Raintree. Then she said that Cheryl had been brought in during the night. I immediately asked how serious it was and the nurse said she was still unconscious so they couldn't be positive. Serious or not, I felt I had to at least be by her side. That afternoon I was on a flight back to Winnipeg.
As soon as I arrived at the Winnipeg airport, I rented a car and drove straight to the hospital on William Avenue. There the staff doctors informed me that Cheryl had been found in the early hours of the morning suffering from hypothermia and possible concussions. They were holding her for observation. I thought immediately that she must have been assaulted and I became resentful when the doctor asked me if Cheryl had a drinking problem.