Fraser's Line (7 page)

‘Then let’s start with the good news,’ suggested Fraser.

‘I think you’ll be very pleased, because I had a problem that I didn’t know I had, and now it’s been all sorted out.’

‘So tell me,’ encouraged Fraser.

‘It was so fortunate because the man happened to be passing, and he must have stopped outside. And when he did he must have looked up, and he saw that some of my roof tiles were missing. And what was even luckier, he happened to have some on his lorry. So he knocked at the door and told me, and apparently if I didn’t do something about it the rain would leak through, what with winter not far away. He said he just had time to fit in the repair before his next appointment.’

Fraser groaned inwardly while trying to keep a pleased expression on his face. He couldn’t bear to disappoint his mother.

‘So I told him to go ahead, and it took him quite a long time. One thing was that he had to go and fetch some more tiles, because there were more needing to be replaced than he first thought. He must have had to go quite a distance, because he was a long time coming back. But he did get it finished, just in time to take me to the bank to get his payment. Wasn’t that kind of him!’

Fraser struggled to control his voice. ‘It’s good that it’s all finished. How much did you pay him?’
He said as I was such nice old lady he’d only charge me half price, so it was £2000. I thought it must have been a bit of a bargain. Just fancy, if we hadn’t found out about the missing tiles I might have had water coming in before long. I knew you’d be pleased, so I’ve been longing to tell you.’

‘I’ll just have a look and make sure he’s left it all absolutely in order,’ Fraser said. He went outside and stood back far enough to see the roof. Without getting up a ladder it wasn’t easy to tell, but he was fairly sure that the tiles were all in a very good state, and that there were just two fresh ones up there. He was angry, not only with the sort of con man who could prey on elderly ladies, but also with the bank. They must have been aware that this was the subject of much publicity. It had featured on ‘Watchdog’ and Fraser felt sure banks had been warned to be on the alert if an elderly client came in to draw out a large sum of money, accompanied by a rough trader, standing as discreetly in the background as possible. The damage was now done, and the important thing was not to upset his mother. At the same time he must try to get through to her that she should really leave everything to him. He knew she hated to be a nuisance, but he did not view it that way at all.

When he went back inside Marjorie seemed to have nodded off in her chair. The sound of his entry roused her. ‘What did you think?’ she asked anxiously.

‘I can see the new tiles he’s put there, and everything seems to be in order,’ Fraser replied. ‘If anything else comes up that you think needs doing, mother, I would be really happy if you let me know. I hate to think of you managing things like this on your own.’

She smiled. ‘What a comfort you are to me,’ she said. ‘Margaret sorts me out very efficiently, but I don’t feel very comfortable during the process. I don’t know why – I know she means well. Let’s have some lunch now. I’m feeling a bit tired. Celia bought some nice ham, and some cheese and rolls for us. Will that be enough for you?’

‘Certainly it will.’ He worried that she was looking pale. ‘Don’t you move. I’ll bring it in. At least my culinary skills won’t be put to the test, which is just as well. I’d no idea there was such a knack to cooking sausages. I burnt mine horribly.’

‘You must have had the heat up too high.’

‘Yes, I know that now. Everyone else seems to have got there ahead of me.’

He carried the lunch in, and helped her up to the table. He was horrified at the smallness of the portion she took, and was aware that although her knife and fork were quite busy on the plate, very little seemed to be getting conveyed to her mouth.

When he had cleared lunch away he asked her what the other thing she wanted to tell him was.

‘I wanted to show you some old photos,’ she said, ‘and some papers. But oh dear, Fraser, I’m so sorry. I feel rather tired. I don’t think I can manage it. Perhaps if I just have a little sleep first.’ She looked distressed and suddenly very old. Fraser sat her in her chair and gently placed her blanket over her lap.

‘There, Mother, there’s nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. You just have a rest, and we won’t try to do anything more today. I’ll leave you in peace now, but I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll come again next weekend, next Saturday – I promise. You try and rest over the next few days, and we can do everything you want then. Will that be alright?’

‘Oh, could you really? Are you sure you have the time? I’m so sorry. Fraser. So very sorry.’
‘Nothing to be sorry for,’ he replied, kissing her gently. ‘Just rest, and I’ll see you again very soon. Goodbye for now, and look after yourself.’

‘Goodbye, darling Fraser,’ she said. ‘Goodbye.’

Joanna did not wake up early on Monday morning, which was hardly surprising as she had not set her alarm clock the night before. What was the point? With no job to provide an incentive it was not easy to summon up the enthusiasm to start another day. It was a vicious circle, really, because she lacked the motivation to look for a job, and without a job there was no real reason to function on all cylinders first thing in the morning.

The trouble was, she thought, it wasn’t easy deciding which sort of job to go for. Up to now she’d managed to have enough income not to have to bother immediately – giving her plenty of time to think about it. That source had now, of course, dried up, forcing her to think again. Should she just look for something to fill in for a bit, or should she seriously consider getting on the rung of some sort of career ladder? If so, which ladder?

If university had worked out she might have had a better idea of where she was going. She’d had a problem deciding what sort of course to do – one she simply enjoyed for the content’s sake – in which case she would have accepted Manchester’s offer to study history – or a vocational one – such as journalism at City University. She did love history, but on the other hand she’d fancied making her way in journalism. It might be fun to be out in some foreign war-torn land, reporting back to people at home – the sounds of gunfire in the background ensuring a dramatic effect, the heat and dust contrasting starkly with Britain’s continual rain. Perhaps that was a pipe dream – and her mother’s comments had not helped. They’d only heightened the indecision. She still smarted at the memory. Being told you were a useless parasite scarcely boosted the ego.

Because she had dithered for too long she had missed the university application deadlines, and so at the last minute took what was offered – i.e. reading English at Sussex, but she had found it difficult to settle, and wished she’d done the course at Manchester. She’d much have preferred that, she thought. By the time it came to the exams at the end of the first year she knew she had not done enough work to pass, so she dropped out and arrived home just when her fellow students were opening their exam papers.

Since then she had done a few odd jobs of one sort and another, and usually left before she could get fired. What she needed was some way of scouring the locality looking for a good job. That meant a car – and she had thought she was home and dry on that when the totally unexpected had happened.

Now she thought of her father and wondered if he would fall for this one. It was worth a try, and if she played her cards well, who knows? He was always kind, even if a bit disapproving at times, never grasping the real issues – in her view. She was rather reluctant to approach him when he was still obviously feeling his loss deeply, and she felt daunted at the thought. Sarah always seemed to know what to say, no matter what the situation, but she never did. Perhaps it would be good to give him a ring, anyway, and she could then see what the possibilities were, once the conversation had got underway.

Joanna rang Fraser’s office number.

‘Hi Dad, how are you?’

‘I’m all right, thank you Joanna. I’m glad to hear from you. I was just saying to Granny yesterday that I hadn’t spoken to you recently.’

‘How was Granny?’ Joanna asked

‘She seemed very tired. She had said she wanted to show me some things – papers and photos – but in the end she didn’t have the energy. So I said I’d go again next weekend and that seemed to please her.’

‘What sort of papers?’ asked Joanna.

‘I’ve really no idea. But obviously something is on her mind.’

‘You’re very good to Granny,’ said Joanna.

‘Well, it’s up to children to look after their parents, especially when they get elderly.’

‘I don’t do much for you,’ Joanna replied with unusual honesty.

‘That’s perfectly true,’ said Fraser. ‘Fortunately, I am not elderly yet, so at the moment the boot is usually on the other foot. Why are you ringing? Is there something I can do for you?’

‘I thought you might like to meet me this evening for a meal, for a change. There, you see, I do think of you sometimes.’

‘Why do you want to? Is there a particular reason?’ Fraser was fairly sure that by the end of the evening he would be dipping into his pocket. Joanna usually had ulterior motives.

‘There’s something I’d like to discuss with you. How about the Smugglers Arms at seven o’clock?’

‘Very well, if you wish. So, how are you? Is James still around?’

‘Good heavens, no! He disappeared long ago.’

‘You’re very good of getting rid of your boyfriends,’ said Fraser. ‘I suppose there’s another one on the scene now.’

‘Well, yes, actually there is.’ Joanna’s voice had gone a bit dreamy.

‘Am I going to meet him? Are you bringing him this evening?’

‘Certainly not,’ said Joanna. ‘Anyway, you wouldn’t approve.’

‘I suppose he’s an escaped convict this time.’

‘Not at all – he’s very clever.’

‘So what does he do?’

‘Something in computers – not sure what, really.’

‘You mean like Michael? Running his own business?’

‘Rather like Michael, yes.’

‘You’re not telling me much about him. What’s so great about him?’

‘He’s very good in bed,’ said Joanna.

‘I don’t want to know that. Just tell me why I’m not going to approve.’

‘Well,’ said Joanna hesitantly, ‘he’s a… a Pakistani.’

‘Oh, Joanna!’ Fraser exploded. ‘You really do know how to pick them! You’re not going to marry this one, are you?’

‘I doubt that very much,’ she replied.

Fraser couldn’t help feeling relieved. He knew she thought he had old-fashioned ideas, but a mixed marriage of that nature was not something he was going to find it easy to accept.

Joanna said, ‘I expect he’ll go back to his family in the end.’

‘You mean back to Pakistan?’

‘Something like that,’ she replied. ‘Anyway, see you this evening.’

She had chosen the most expensive item on the menu – knowing he would offer to pick up the tab at the end – and she was downing a gin and tonic.

‘What about a job? Any progress?’ he asked.

‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve decided the problem is I don’t really know enough about the businesses in this locality. I mean, you can read adverts – but you have to go to a place to know if it’s the sort of thing that would appeal – absorb the ambience – you know, that sort of thing. And I can’t get round easily, because I’ve no transport of my own.’

The penny dropped. ‘So you want me to buy you a car!’

‘You can see how it would multiply the possibilities one hundredfold. And it would transform my life – it’s so horrid having to come back at night from places on the underground – or by bus. Probably isn’t at all safe, these days.’

‘It’s a pretty big thing to ask for. Most people have to work in order to afford one. You want it the other way round.’

‘Oh please Dad – it would be so nice. And it would only be a loan. I’ll pay you back as soon as I’ve got the money.’

Fraser wondered just how many times he’d heard that before – and how often he’d fallen for it – before it finally dawned that she had no intention of paying him back.

‘I’m sorry, Joanna,’ he said. ‘I don’t believe in young people having everything handed to them on a plate. I’ve had to work my way up, and you must learn to do the same. Sarah has never asked for anything – she’s earned everything she’s got.’

Joanna could see this approach wasn’t getting anywhere. But she had another card up her sleeve. It would have to emerge slowly, as he wasn’t going to like it.

‘Dad,’ she said, ‘can I ask – did Mummy make a will?’

Fraser pulled a face. ‘No, I’m afraid not. I tried to persuade her to, and had my Solicitor come round one day, but she was adamant, and refused. I did mine, but she had some sort of superstitious blockage about it, and wouldn’t do it. Why do you ask?’

‘Have you cleared up all her papers now?’

‘I haven’t touched them,’ Fraser admitted. ‘I got someone from one of those charities to come and take away all her clothes and bags, and scarves – that sort of thing. I couldn’t bear seeing the dresses hanging in the wardrobe – they reminded me too much of her. She loved new clothes, and always looked so nice.’