Fraser's Line (2 page)

John appeared to have been badly affected by Edie’s death. He had called round to see Fraser, and the memory of that visit still left Fraser feeling uncomfortable – he did not like such a show of emotion. John had stood there awkwardly, looking moved – his eyes were moist – and he was wringing his hands.

‘I’m so sorry, Fraser,’ he had finally said. ‘I don’t know what else I can say – I’m so very, very sorry.’

‘Thanks, John.’ Fraser was fairly perfunctory, anxious to get rid of him.

‘It doesn’t make anything right, but I had to come and say it. I’m bitterly sorry.’

‘So am I.’ Fraser wished John would stop talking and go away.

‘It should never have happened. Never. I can’t begin to imagine how you must have felt. I’d give anything for it not to have happened.’

Fraser was beginning to feel embarrassed. He couldn’t understand why John was labouring the point, and he found it disturbing.

‘I wish we could go back in time,’ continued John, ‘and things could be as they were, when we were all happy.’

“Well, we can’t. What’s happened has happened. Now I must learn to come to terms with everything. I don’t have any other option.”

‘You must be so angry.’ John hung his head.

‘I’m devastated by it all, and I miss Edie every moment, but getting angry hardly helps. If you don’t mind, John, I think I’d like to be on my own now.’

‘Yes, of course. I’m sorry. But look, Fraser, don’t worry about the business. I’ll put in all the hours it needs to keep things going for the time being – it’s the least I can do.’

‘I’m better working,’ said Fraser. ‘I need to have something to keep me busy – otherwise I’ll just sit here and mope. But thanks, anyway.’

To his relief John had finally shuffled off, leaving Fraser to wonder why Edie’s death had hit him so hard. He knew John had a very soft heart, and was touched that his own loss had had such a deep effect, but the emotion seemed excessive. After that conversation the two men didn’t speak of personal things any more. They kept strictly to work issues.

There was to be one more phone call before Fraser was able to go and buy his supper. It was his sister, Margaret. She had, it seemed, a very bright idea. Her friend Marion was giving a party on Saturday, and she would be thrilled if Fraser would come. There wouldn’t be very many people, and most of them Fraser would probably not be acquainted with, so he wouldn’t have to put up with people not knowing what to say to him. Margaret was of the strong opinion that he really could not go on hiding away by himself. It was, according to his sister, high time he tried to go out, and this would be the ideal occasion.

‘No thanks.’ Fraser was firm in his refusal. ‘Please pass my thanks on to Marion, but I’m not in the mood for a party.’

Margaret tried all the arguments she could, but Fraser was adamant. Then she said, ‘Mother’s terribly worried about you. She keeps asking me if you are getting out anywhere. When I say no, you’re just staying at home, she gets very upset.’

‘She’d forgotten about it when she spoke to me a few moments ago. She asked me how Edie was!’

‘I’m sure it was only a momentary aberration. You know what her mind is like now. She does know what’s happened and how you’ve been suffering. Every time I speak to her she asks about you, and wants to know how you are coping. Come on, Fraser, make her happy! She’d love to think that you were able to go out and join other people. It pains her to think of you being so alone all the time.’

It was the only persuasive remark that could possibly have any effect on Fraser. He hesitated – Margaret seized her advantage, and before he knew it he had somehow agreed to go.

‘Brilliant!’ said Margaret. ‘I’ll tell Marion straight away.’

Damn, thought Fraser, as he went out for his fish and chips. Damn, damn, damn.

‘Lunch is ready! Everyone needs to sit up at the table now!’ Announcements of mealtimes by Sarah required an immediate response. Woe betide the procrastinator who decided to finish the job in hand, or who, worse still, had failed to wash their hands prior to the pre-emptory invitation to the table. The interval between the time the family members were bidden to come and the final result of all chairs being occupied by diners in a state of complete readiness could be no more than thirty seconds or Sarah became flustered.

At one o’clock precisely the meal was served. The homemade Shepherd’s Pie, brought to the table bubbling, with its golden crust browned to perfection, made a spectacular sight. How well Sarah looked after her family! Fraser was impressed by her competence and organisation.

‘Magic!’ breathed George, in eager anticipation.

Next the carrots and broccoli arrived – an attractive vegetable accompaniment with their contrasting colours, but this cut no ice with George.

‘Yuk!’ he shuddered. ‘I really, really hate brolocci.’

‘It’s broccoli – and you have to eat it.’ Kate adopted the role of older sister, despite the fact that she had only beaten George into the world by twenty minutes.

‘Greens do you good, old chap,’ encouraged Michael. ‘If you mix them up with that lovely potato you’ll never even notice.’

‘How do you mean, mix them up? Like a spell?’

‘He’s been bitten by the Harry Potter bug,’ explained Sarah to Fraser.

‘What bug? I haven’t got a bug. Kate, have I got a bug?’

‘Do be quiet and eat your dinner,’ responded Kate, self-righteously.

‘Thank you, Kate,’ Sarah intervened. ‘I think I can manage George. Now, I want both of you to show Grandpa how nicely and quietly you can eat up your dinner.’

Obediently the twins applied themselves to the job in hand. Fraser felt a sense of pride in his family, and began to be glad he had come. When he had arrived Sarah and Michael had been busy in the kitchen, working together in a unison that reflected the harmony between them. It reminded Fraser of how it had been between Edie and himself, slotting easily together. He was glad Sarah had made a happy marriage – fulfilled at home and at work, it seemed. At least that was one of his daughters settled. If only Joanna could find the right way forward.

He had tested the refrigerator, as Sarah had requested, and found it running perfectly correctly at minus four degrees. Although Sarah had seen his meter reading, she still wasn’t fully convinced. However, Michael had taken over, and repeated what Fraser had said very firmly, so that in the end she had accepted it.

Fraser then made his way to the lounge to see what his grandchildren were doing, expecting his usual rapturous welcome, but Kate and George were unusually quiet. Typical six year olds, they could be boisterous and sometimes Fraser had a job keeping up with them. However, this time they had both appeared to be absorbed by their colouring books and did not look up.

Fraser had greeted them affectionately, and then sat down in the particular armchair which was always offered to him when he visited.

‘What are you drawing, Georgie?’ he had asked. Sarah disapproved of any variation on the name George, but as she wasn’t in the room he had not worried. “George” somehow seemed such a grown up name for a small child.

Kate had answered. It was strange how little girls assumed responsibility so early in life.

‘Mummy said we were to stay out of the kitchen while she and Daddy are seeing to the lunch, so we’re doing our activity books.’

‘She said she’d better give you a good meal today,’ George added. ‘Grandpa, why did she want to give you a good meal? Are you very hungry?’

‘I always enjoy your Mummy’s meals,’ Fraser replied. ‘She’s a very good cook.’

‘Are you sad, Grandpa?’ George asked.

‘George!’ Kate exploded. ‘You know Mummy said you mustn’t!’

‘I didn’t say it!’ George retorted indignantly. ‘I didn’t! I only asked Grandpa if he was sad.’

Fraser was beginning to realise why the twins had been so subdued when he first arrived.

‘What did Mummy tell you not to say?’ he asked.

Kate had taken it on herself to explain. ‘Mummy said we mustn’t say anything about Grandma because it would make you sad.’

‘I see. Well look, it’s alright. Sometimes it helps to talk about the people you love when sad things have happened.’

‘She’s dead, isn’t she?’ George didn’t believe in beating about bushes.

Fraser had wondered what concept of death a six year could have. Should he talk about “going to heaven”? Then there had come that distant memory of when he had been much the same age. What had his mother said? He could not remember.

‘Grandma got ill,’ he explained. ‘Sometimes when people get old they get ill, and sometimes they are ill for a long time and they suffer a lot. Other people have a very short illness and they die, so it’s good that they don’t suffer.’ He couldn’t help thinking that it’s those who are left behind who suffer -- but that was a burden he had to carry – it was not something to put on these innocent young children.

‘Are you ill?’ George asked.

‘Not at all,’ Fraser assured him, ‘so you have nothing to worry about. Of course we all miss Grandma a lot, and we shall always think of her, but you children mustn’t be unhappy. She would not have wanted that.’ He had changed the subject rapidly. ‘Shall we get your train set out after lunch, George? Shall we see if Mummy says there’ll be time?’

‘Oh magic! Yes, please!’ Then George’s face had fallen. ‘I think Mummy’s going to make me sort my room out this afternoon.’

Fraser could not bear his disappointment. Sometimes Sarah was rather too hard on the children. Discipline was a good thing, of course, but he wondered if you could overdo it.

‘I’ll ask her,’ he promised. ‘Perhaps there’ll be time.’

‘Time for what?’ Sarah had appeared with a jug of water.

‘George and I would love to play with the train set after lunch. Kate might help us, too. That won’t interfere with your plans, will it?’

‘We’ll see.’ Sarah was obviously thinking fast. She had hoped Fraser would go fairly early as she had a lot of work to do over the weekend. On the other hand she was sorry for him, and she realised it could be therapeutic for him to have some time with the children and the train set, an activity all parties loved. And it would keep the children happily occupied for a while. ‘I think we could fit that in for an hour after lunch,’ she agreed, and George had been ecstatic.

The children continued to behave well during the meal. Once Kate had interrupted a conversation between Sarah and her father, but was quickly stopped. She had to wait until they had finished and was then given permission to speak. Fraser wondered if he and Edie had been so strict with the girls. It was difficult to remember, and he had to admit that he had left most of the disciplining to Edie.

Michael’s mobile phone must have vibrated in his pocket, because he took it out and looked at it, and then put it away. A few minutes later he took it out again, and then asked to be excused for a moment. When he came back he seemed strained.

‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he said, ‘but something rather urgent has come up, and I’ve really got to see to a delivery this afternoon. It will only take an hour – I’ll be back in two hours at the outside. And I promise I’ll do everything we had planned when I get back.’

‘Oh no! Do you really have to go? We said we’d make it a family day today, and Grandpa has come, and I do need you to be here.’

‘I won’t be long,’ Michael promised. ‘I’m sure the children will be happy playing trains with Grandpa, and I’ll be back straight after, and I’ll see they get their outside exercise, and then I’ll do whatever other jobs you have lined up for me.’

Sarah was obviously fighting emotion, but she managed to put on something approaching a smile. ‘Very well, but you’re quite sure it won’t be more than two hours?’

‘Absolutely.’ Michael was relieved. ‘I’ll help you clear away first, and I’ll be back before you’ve noticed.’

When the meal was finished both the children chorused, ‘Please may I get down?’ and then George suddenly started racing round in small circles, imitating an aeroplane, and shouting: ‘We’re going to play trains! It’s magic! We’re going to play trains!’ He banked steeply, spun round, crashed into a chair, and landed on the floor in a heap.

‘George!’ Sarah shouted. ‘Stop that this minute! Any more of that rough behaviour and there’ll be no trains for you!’

George stopped in his tracks and his face fell. He was obviously realising that a moment’s thoughtless display of exuberance looked like jeopardising the very activity he had been anticipating so eagerly.

‘Sorry, Mummy,’ he said, anxiously. ‘Sorry, sorry, Mummy. I won’t do it again.’
‘You certainly won’t,’ said Sarah firmly. ‘If he’s a naughty boy, Grandpa, you’re to tell me straight away.’

‘I’m quite sure he’ll be as good as gold from now on,’ said Fraser. ‘Come on, children. Let’s go and get the things out.’

They three of them absorbed themselves in setting up the track and watching the little trains chug under tunnels and through stations. To his amazement Fraser realised that for a short time he had forgotten the heavy ache in his heart. He was grateful for his grandchildren who had the gift, without any awareness of it, of bringing him comfort. He hoped perhaps he had brought them a little happiness too – for they did seem to have to function within the confines of a tight regime.