A Family Affair - First Born (7 page)

“Let’s go, Marg,” Jack called impatiently. “We’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up.” There was no response from his wife, although he wasn’t expecting one. She did not like to be told what to do.

Jack had been in the hallway for ten minutes waiting for Margaret to be ready. Goodness knows how long she had been in there getting ready. He hadn’t seen her for hours. The annoying thing was that Jack had informed her quite clearly that afternoon what time they needed to leave, and she was just being unreasonable by taking this long.

Jack checked his watch again in frustration. He hated to be late. It was entirely probable that Margaret was doing this on purpose, just to rattle him. Perhaps the best thing to do would be to go and sit in the car. If he was out of sight, she might be more likely to emerge and declare her readiness to leave. If the truth were known, he would have liked to drive off without her, and spend time with Tom and Ellen alone. If he did drive off, it would be interesting to see if Margaret made it there without him. She wasn’t a confident driver, and relied on him for transport. 

It wasn’t as if his sixty-five-year old wife was a beauty queen or something. She wasn’t preparing for a pageant, as far as he knew. In fact, time had not been kind to Margaret. Her angular features had somehow become more pronounced by the deep wrinkles which covered her body. Margaret had loved the sun as a young woman, and was paying a heavy price for that exposure now. Her hair was completely grey, and although she coloured it regularly, he often noticed grey along her roots.

In any case, Margaret’s looks were not her least attractive quality. Her personality easily won that competition. A kind word hadn’t passed her lips in years. She was completely preoccupied with Tom’s personal life and had little interest in anything else, apart from the ladies’ social events at the golf club. They were the main interests in her life, which was quite dull as far as Jack was concerned. Margaret was far from a satisfying life companion, as there was certainly no time for his interests in their combined schedule.

He would have happily divorced her years ago if she had asked him to. Some days he even prayed that she would demand their separation. But for reasons he didn’t understand, Jack just couldn’t bring himself to instigate a divorce. As the years passed, he ceased dreaming about such proceedings, and just accepted that his life would never change. He developed a separate life from his wife, and occupied a different end of the house. The only time they came together now was for social occasions involving Tom. Being married to Margaret must be some sort of punishment for a crime committed in a previous life. It was his cross to bear.

“What’s the hurry?” Margaret snapped, emerging from her room at long last.

Jack shook his head. Did he really need to explain the etiquette of arriving on time? “Tom and Ellen will be waiting for us. It’s an eight o’clock booking.”

“Tom is not going to order food until his mother arrives.”

That was of course true, but there was no need to test their son this way.

Margaret was wearing her favourite red dress and matching shoes. It was not overly becoming on her, but Jack bit his tongue as usual.

“Remind me what the occasion is,” demanded Margaret, while following her husband to the garage where their expensive new black Lexus was parked.

Jack had received the phone call from Tom only this morning asking the two of them to dinner. “He said he had something important to discuss.” Tom hadn’t wanted to say exactly what the matter concerned while on the phone, and Jack was certainly curious.

Margaret was thoughtful. “Now you just said that Tom
and
Ellen will be waiting for us...”

“Yes.”

“Why are you assuming that he is bringing her? Did he say he was?”

Tom hadn’t actually mentioned that Ellen would be at dinner, but her inclusion seemed obvious. The two of them would be married in five short weeks, so of course Ellen would be there. The two of them were inseparable as far as Jack could tell. The bitterness in Margaret was working its way to the surface. It was obvious what she was thinking. “Tom is not meeting us to tell us that his wedding is off.”

Margaret smirked. “You never know. We both know they aren’t suited to each other. The girl has no life experience.”

“I don’t know that,” insisted Jack, while hoping that his attitude would rub off on Margaret. “Tom says he loves her and that’s good enough for me.” The disdain shown by Margaret was clearly obvious to everyone, and Jack wondered why his wife would risk upsetting Tom in such a way.

“He’s a smart boy. He’ll come to his senses in time.”

Her attitude was infuriating if he thought about it too long. “I want you to show Ellen your friendly side tonight, dear. If you can find your friendly side, that is.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. A mother can tell what is good for her son, and this young thing is not suitable wife material at all.”

The rest of the car trip was mercifully silent for Jack, as Margaret didn’t say a word more. His wife liked to have the last word which suited him fine. During previous dinners, he was almost embarrassed to sit at the same table with her in Ellen’s presence. Such a sweet young woman did not deserve the passive aggression that his wife liked to serve – particularly when Tom was out of earshot. To Ellen’s credit, she usually just smiled, or pretended not to understand the not-so-subtle personal criticisms levelled at her. But the girl was smart – whenever Jack conversed with Ellen, he was impressed by her knowledge of the company. Tom was obviously keeping her well informed. Perhaps she would even have a more substantial role at Satinol after completing her commerce degree.

To Jack’s relief, Margaret’s mood changed for the better when they arrived at the restaurant and Tom was in sight. He was clearly Margaret’s greatest joy in life, and it was nice to see how proud she was of him. Jack felt the same pride too of course, and realised it was now the only feeling they shared.

Tom and Ellen stood up and moved around the table to greet them. Of course Ellen was there – Jack was not surprised to see her. He smiled, knowing how bitterly disappointed Margaret must be.

“Tom, hello,” Margaret said, kissing him on the cheek. “Ellen, hello too,” Margaret said, with less enthusiasm.

“Hello, Margaret,” Ellen said. “You look lovely tonight. Thank you for coming at such short notice.”

“Of course. You know I love to spend time with my son.”

Jack noted that Tom and Ellen’s drinks were already depleted. It looked as if they had been waiting here a while. He checked his watch – it was quarter to nine. “Sorry, we’re late, son.”

Tom chuckled. He knew his mother well. “Don’t worry about it.” The two of them shook hands.

“I see you’re wearing yellow tonight, dear,” Margaret said to Ellen.

“Yes,” Ellen replied looking down at her dress.

“That’s an interesting colour choice for your skin tone, dear.”

Ellen’s face looked surprised, but she only smiled in reply.

Margaret looked towards Tom. “You know I’ve always had an eye for colour.”

“Yes, Mother, I do.” Tom knew his mother better than anyone else, but maintained a patience that Jack couldn’t muster any longer.

Jack smirked. It was one of Margaret’s most ridiculous claims, which he had heard many times. It was obvious that Margaret had not found her friendly side, as Jack had requested.

Tom shook his head and grabbed Ellen’s hand to reassure her. It was a quiet, loving gesture which indicated to Jack that everything was well in his son’s relationship. By their body language, Margaret’s antics were obviously a source of amusement for the couple, and Jack was relieved to see that.

Jack kissed Ellen on the cheek. “Sorry, Ellen,” he whispered into her ear, so that only she would hear. He thought she looked lovely as always.

“Don’t worry about it,” she whispered back with real warmth, kissing him on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, Jack.”

Margaret didn’t notice. “I was saying to Diane from the club just the other day how the young girls today like to experiment with colour. I prefer the classics myself.”

Jack had no idea what she was talking about. If yellow wasn’t a classic colour then what was? In any case, he was bored with her dull conversation already. “What can I get everyone to drink?” he asked, standing up.

“Dad, the waiter will take our order. You don’t need to go to the bar.”

“I’m happy to go. I think I need a whiskey in any case.”

Tom only smiled with a shared understanding of Jack’s pain.

“A glass of sherry,” Margaret ordered, as if she was speaking to the waiter. “But only the good stuff, Jack.”

“Can you choose a nice pinot noir from the wine list, Dad?” requested Tom. “Actually, Elle - if we order a bottle, will you have a glass or two?”

Ellen hesitated, as if she wasn’t expecting that question. “I can feel a headache coming,” she said, touching her temple. “I might just have a lemon, lime and bitters please, Jack.”

“Just a glass for me then, Dad,” Tom said. He kissed Ellen’s cheek softly, and whispered something into her ear which made her smile. His care for her was blindingly obvious.

“Would you like a hand to carry the drinks back, Jack?” asked Ellen when Tom leaned away again.

“No, I’ll manage.” She was such a thoughtful young woman. “Back soon.”

It only took a few minutes before Jack returned with a tray of drinks and reluctantly took his place next to Margaret again.

“So,” said Margaret, noticing when Tom put his arm around Ellen’s shoulders. “Jack said you have something important to tell us.”

“Let’s order some dinner first, Mother,” Tom suggested, looking through the menu.

Margaret wasn’t to be put off so easily. Her nose scrunched up – it did that when she was unhappy about something. “Is Ellen pregnant? Is that the news?” she demanded.

Tom put his drink down. “Why on earth would you say that?”

Jack knew by his son’s expression that Margaret’s guess was wrong, but strangely, Ellen’s face lost some of its normal colour.

“She’s not drinking I see,” Margaret continued, staring at the girl.

“Elle just said she has a headache coming on.”

Jack knew that Margaret would be horrified to learn Ellen was pregnant. The car trip home would be unbearable. If there was one thing that Margaret detested, it was young people jumping into bed together before they were married. A week wouldn’t pass in their house without Margaret finding at least one occasion to mention her dislike of such behaviour.

“No, Mother. Ellen is not pregnant,” Tom continued without even looking at his fiancée.

There was probably nothing to Ellen’s reaction, but Jack filed that memory away for further thought. Tom and Margaret had completely missed the expression on Ellen’s face in response to the question.

“Why must we order dinner in order to hear the news then?”

Margaret was becoming more and more intolerable to be around as each year passed. She could ruin a perfectly fine evening within ten minutes of arriving. Ellen was looking quite uncomfortable, but didn’t squirm or say a word.

Tom gave a frustrated smile and took a deep breath. “As you like, Mother.”

Margaret smiled. There was nothing she liked more than having her own way.

“Well, it’s all a bit strange to tell you the truth,” Tom began. He gave a nervous laugh, as if he didn’t know how to explain the situation.

Jack suddenly had a bad feeling enter the pit of his stomach. There was no reason to be worried about Tom’s news, so the feeling was hard to understand. Nonetheless it was there.

“What is strange?” demanded Margaret, cutting to the chase.

“I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it,” Ellen encouraged him.

Jack realised that Ellen obviously knew what was coming. Of course she did. It was good to see that Tom had her support regardless of what was going on.

“The Blood Bank seems to believe that I have a brother.”

Everyone was silent, even Margaret. Jack looked at her, wondering what she was thinking. His wife was never this silent. He himself tried to process the news. A brother? Jack was sure that Tom had said the word – brother. He hadn’t misheard, had he? How was a brother possible? Had Margaret had another child? Impossible. The woman hadn’t left his side in forty long years.

Something finally snapped in Margaret and she found her voice. “What?” she shrieked. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about a letter I received yesterday...”

“You don’t have a brother,” Margaret said, cutting him off. “What a ludicrous suggestion! I think I would know if you did. I can’t believe you’ve brought us here for this purpose. I mean, of course, I’m always happy to see you, Tom, you know that. But really, this is unlike you. How ridiculous!” Margaret’s eyes drifted to Ellen, as if she was accusing the girl of inventing this claim. But Tom had mentioned the Blood Bank. Ellen couldn’t be responsible for something the Blood Bank did.

Suddenly, the focus of Tom and Ellen’s attention switched subtly to Jack. He saw it straight away. It was now their turn to accuse him silently of something. But of what? Ah, at that moment he saw what they were thinking. Their eyes asked a clear question of him. But was it a question or an accusation? He wasn’t sure. Did he have an affair which produced a son out of wedlock? They didn’t need to say anything out loud – the words were written all over their faces.