Full Circle Page 8

  They sat one lunch time enjoying a pie and chips in one of the forest pubs. When they had first walked in, they were greeted with an abrasive ‘fuck off’ and looked around in amazement laughing their heads off trying to locate the source of the profanity. It didn’t take them long. A series of metallic sounding chuckles broke out and another round of coarse vulgarity rang through the rafters. The culprit was a mynah bird, dark and glossy dancing up and down on his perch by the huge stone fireplace and with the foulest tongue they’d heard in a long time; certainly brought in the trade though. The pub was a popular stopping off point and the bird was well known throughout the New Forest, greeting every new customer entering the premises with the same diatribe. What a riotous lunch and what a tonic to have a change of focus for a while.

  During their stay, they visited Lymington, a Georgian market town. They loved the nautical atmosphere and boating facilities. As always, there was an abundance of pubs and restaurants, cobbled streets and the Old Town Quay. The air was brisk as they sat overlooking the water at Lymington just soaking up the atmosphere. The sea had an opalescent quality and even though the day was cloudy and overcast, a watery sun was making feeble attempts to peek through the clouds, and thousands of gem stones and diamonds marched spasmodically on the sway.

  “You know, Bob.”

  Alex broke their silence.

  “This town has everything, great mooring, shops, local ‘catch of the day’ and perfect location for a business right between Southampton and Bournemouth with easy access to the Isle of Wight. I think I would like to come back here one day and perhaps run a tour boat up and down this beautiful coast; wouldn’t that be something?”

  “It sure would be. That really would be something to work towards and who knows I might even retire down here and give you a hand, maybe put some money in to help get the business off the ground.”

  “I’ll take you up on that, you mark my words.”

  The youth had a very definite gleam in his eye.

  ****

  Back in London, they both took care of their day to day business until the phone call came.

  Arriving just after the baby was born; they peered through the glass window at Amy holding her newborn.

  Bob urged Alex forward.

  “You’d better go in alone for a few minutes.”

  Amy held the baby out to him. He buried his face in the warm little body and cried. He cried for the blessing that Amy was all right, for the miracle of birth that he held in his arms and for the impending loss of his daughter, this tiny creature. Leaning over, he kissed Amy’s cheek tenderly.

  “Dear Amy, forgive me. I’ll always love you, my sweet princess.”

  And both cried for the loss of their youth and the sheer joy of the tiny infant they held in their arms.

  The three remained swaddled together for a few moments of supreme harmony and completeness, the baby softly gurgling and cooing between them.

  Bob came in for a brief visit and admired the infant, a lovely baby girl with sunbeams running through her blond hair. Her eyes appeared to be blue grey but it was difficult to say at this early stage.

  The day of Amy’s discharge came all too quickly. Paperwork was subsequently signed and the baby Fiona christened and formally handed over to Amy’s mother. Alex and Bob were returning to London but they were worried about Amy, she seemed reluctant to go with them, hardly speaking and withdrawn into herself. An extension was granted in the nursing home and it was agreed that she would rest up for another week or so before returning to London.

  Harry had laid up his tug for repair and Alex took the opportunity to take a brief trip down to Southampton a couple of weeks later to see if he could persuade Amy to come back with him. Bob generously agreed to put her up until she got re-established. Sylvia was in favour of the proposition when it was put to her as it seemed the best thing for the girl; she needed to get on with her life.

  Upon arrival in Southampton, Alex was shocked at the state of Amy, in his short absence she seemed to have wasted away and was being treated for anxiety and depression. He was really surprised when she actually agreed to go back to London with him.

  They settled her in the little room, leaving her to organise herself but both were privy to her cries echoing through the wall.

  “You’d better go and sit with her a while lad and quieten her down. We can’t have this, it’s too depressing.”

  Bob was getting increasingly fretful and fidgeting in his chair.

  Alex sat with her for several nights until the early hours of the morning, and she wept for her loss and the way things had been. Long racking sobs flowed from deep within her rattling around his brain until he thought he couldn’t bear another minute of it, and he held her remembering his mother crying for his father in the night so long ago.

  Suddenly it stopped; she was ready to go to work. They relocated her to Frank’s bakery where she worked assiduously learning the business and for a while appeared to be getting on top of her emotional turmoil, although she relied heavily on the doctor’s prescriptions. She remained aloof from Alex and apart from that, everybody’s routine returned to a reasonable level of norm until that fateful day.

  ****

  The old man hung onto her frail body while they waited for the taxi. Frank was slipping away and Amy had known for some time that she was losing her dear friend. They didn’t have long to wait for the taxi which dropped them at the hospital; immediately medical people were running here there and everywhere whisking him away from her. Dazed and confused, she at least had the presence of mind to go and get Bob and Alex. Upon arrival in Camden Town, she instinctively flew into Alex’s arms forgetting their ongoing issues.

  Bob came rushing towards them.

  “What’s going on, what’s happened?”

  “It’s Frank,” she gasped. “I got him to the hospital but he’s not going to make it, I’m sure. You had better come back with me quick if you want to see him.”

  Sitting grimly round his bed, they all held their breath when Frank suddenly rallied smiling his usual good natured smile at all of them.

  “Now what’s all the fuss about? I’m as right as nine pence, just had a funny turn that’s all.”

  He passed in and out of consciousness through the night and slipped away peacefully in the early hours. His younger sister appeared shortly afterwards, letting them know in very definite terms that she would take things from there; handle all the financial affairs, etc.

  It was a sad threesome that made their way to Frank’s bakery that day for the last time so that Amy could get her belongings out. They were silent, consumed with sorrow, each remembering their friend in their own way.

  ****

  Bob set Amy up in the little room at the back of his home. The room was tiny but met all her needs and she had the privacy to come and go as she wished but still she remained distant. As soon as they arrived, she went quietly to the little room and filled with sadness, opened an envelope from Frank with a little note inside and a rhyme:

  Bright and shiny button that you are,

  Sending the blues on journey far

  Making each day seem more worthwhile,

  The kindness in your heart shown in your smile.

  Such youth and such caring mirrored in your face,

  Young people like you make the world a better place.

  By your example a lesson is learned with others to share

  Of humility, compassion and never ending care. ©

  ‘Forgot where I found this little rhyme but I kept it and it must surely have been written just for you. You’ve been a lovely young friend to me, bringing warmth and brightness each and every day and I want you to have this little gift. Put it in your savings account and look after yourself, princess.’

  Amy gasped at the generosity of Frank’s cheque but still her grief was boundless and emptiness overtook her.

  Sitting in the lounge trying to make small talk, Alex and Bob were striving to mute the sounds of her
crying; she was unreachable by either of them so they left her to ride it out.

  The next day saw her a little more composed but refusing to eat anything.

  “Frank left me my wages and was also very generous to me. He must have known what was coming. I am going down the road to deposit it along with the last salary as I haven’t had time to deal with it. I’ll be back later.”

  Distancing herself, she stayed for a few weeks. One day Alex came home to find Bob waiting for him at the door.

  “She’s gone lad, said she had another job and accommodation, said she’ll be in touch.”

  Bob handed him a note which he had found on the kitchen table.

  ‘Dear Alex, forgive me but I can’t do this anymore. I need to be away from you to sort myself out. I can’t carry on with you as if nothing happened because it did. Don’t try to find me; we both need a fresh start.’

  Alex sat down at the table head in hands. His friend laid his hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m here for you lad. If you need anything, just say the word.”

  The boy was disconsolate and giving him some privacy, Bob left him to the total abandonment of himself to grief.

  Alex had known before even reading the note that she was lost to him.

  Chapter 10

  Life Back in London

  When Alex moved in with Bob permanently, he converted the loft into nautical style accommodation. The rooms were in keeping with his work and lifestyle, and he was really happy with the result. Bob offered endless encouragement, as his mentor and confidant always caring and ready to listen; Alex loved sharing the same house with him.

  They were sitting in quiet companionship in Bob’s little sitting room which, although not fancy, was built for comfort. A chubby little velvet sofa having seen better times sat on a faded carpet, accompanied by a huge winged chair, pouffe and T.V., all of which made up the main features of the room. Bob was not much of a reader but there was a bookcase built into an alcove with a few books scattered randomly on the shelves and another chair in close proximity which he was occupying. Sitting forward he looked keenly at Alex.

  “So how’s it going on the tugs then?”

  Since Harry had taken Alex permanently on payroll as a trainee, the youth had been totally involved determined to learn everything. Although he was only sixteen years old, because he had worked unofficially with Harry the previous year and had basic sea going experience, he was eligible to begin his apprenticeship.

  “Absolutely fabulous, I’m just loving it. Harry’s the best. It’s going to take me a few years but I want to become a Master of Towing like Harry. After I’ve done a year or so working and learning deck duties, I’ll be an Apprentice Mate. I’ll have to work at the position for approximately four years and then I’ll be a Mate of Towing, so after at least five years in all, I can qualify as Master of Towing, the pièce de résistance. Of course I’ll have to take exams for each course section as I go along and I get to travel with Harry the length of the Thames to the estuary and offshore sometimes while I’m learning and get this, I’ll be a skipper eventually, Bob, imagine that. I’ll actually be in charge of my own boat.”

  “I’m so proud of you me boy, what a special little lad you are, you’re a clever one, that’s for sure.”

  Bob was completely overwhelmed by this time and groping around in his pocket for his handkerchief.

  Alex leapt up and gave his friend a hug.

  “And it’s all because of you. You’ve given me a life and helped Amy and I’ll not let you down ever again,” he added emphatically.

  “I’ll take courses and exams all my life if I have to. You’ve given me a chance that I never would have had. I’ve already made a real mess of things and ruined Amy but I’ll never give up trying to get her back and I swore to her mum that I’d send money for the baby every month for her trust fund and then like me she’ll have a chance to better herself when she grows up.”

  By this time Bob was using his sleeve as he fumbled his way to the kitchen having given up on trying to find his hankie in his pocket.

  Amy was gone and Alex was having a hard time dealing with it. Bad enough that Frank had passed away and now he’d lost Amy. It was the bitter end although he still had Sid and Elsie who were plugging away in the bakery as homely and comforting as always and good old Bob, his mentor and friend. What a blessing they were still in his life. Bob had been like a very young father to him, always ready to guide him and teach him not only focussing on the clandestine side of life.

  ****

  Alex hadn’t seen Fred for some time as he had been so busy and was no longer involved in the ‘assignments’ for Bob. I must get to see Fred soon, he thought.

  When he got back to the shop later, he caught up with Bob.

  “Bob, how’s old Fred doing, haven’t seen him in ages? Do you want to meet up with him in the café for a while to catch up on old times?”

  “That would be great. I’ll get in touch with him.”

  Bob was very obviously preoccupied with his latest acquisition. Since the late 1950s Britain had been booming with the arrival of TVs, dishwashers, washing machines and other labour saving devices designed for the home. Many homes were being equipped in keeping with the ‘new age’. Even food had been more plentiful with the extradition of the food ration books and there was definitely more interest in the kitchen. Bob had been systematically embracing the ‘mod con’ era, and had acquired a TV and washing machine and was lovingly admiring his new dishwasher when Alex burst in.

  “Well lad, what do you think of this beauty? After dinner we’ll try it out. Don’t worry about using too many plates and stuff, this little baby is going to solve all our problems. No more bribing matches to get out of washing the dishes. We simply rinse and dump in there. Isn’t it great?”

  Alex was impressed and the two spent the next half an hour pouring over the information book.

  “OK, let’s get this show on the road. The sooner we get dinner done, the sooner we can get our beer, pull up a couple of chairs and watch this magic machine take care of all our needs.”

  Which is exactly what they did.

  ****

  Old Fred seemed much the same when they met up with him and made a great production of showing them his new wheelchair with all the latest bells and whistles. Post war years had seen a gradual change of view regarding the plight of disabled people. It had taken time but different forms of medical aids and assistance had become available to the handicapped through the National Health Service. The 1960s brought wheelchairs with optional power packs which were proving problematic, requiring modification and refinement. Fred had no interest in a motor of any sort and was thrilled to bits with his chair which had the added advantage of keeping his upper torso fit because he had to wheel it himself; always protecting his hands with heavy hide gloves. His life had taken on a whole different meaning for the better.

  The little café to which Fred had first taken Alex was still there and the food consistently great. While prices were higher, they were certainly still very reasonable when compared with other restaurants which also lacked the personal service and the usual royal welcome from George.

  “How you doing then old friend?” Bob shook Fred’s outstretched hand as did Alex.

  “The old legs bothering me a bit these days.”

  Fred looked dismal; his two friends howled with laughter once the penny had dropped and they’d thought about what he’d said. Old Fred hadn’t lost his sense of humour in spite of the evil blow that had been dealt to him.

  “Oh! For God’s sake, cut it out,” Bob said, slapping Fred on the arm. “Now let’s order our food, I see that the menu is just as varied as it always was, lots of choice.”

  It was a great gathering for all three and they agreed unanimously not to leave it so long next time.

  ****

  Alex’s practical apprenticeship on the tugs and his studies filled his life now, particularly as he was gaining more and more certification
and well on his path towards his goal as a skipper of his own vessel. It had taken him longer than he had expected but that was his choice. As a perfectionist, he agonised over every upcoming exam determined to score high marks and allowed himself extra study time to make sure he got it right and passed each time he was tested. In fact he figured if he stayed with it, he should qualify in about a year. Fortunately with all his studying, there was little time for brooding over his losses but he found time to keep up with the political scene and develop his keen interest in environmental sustainability.

  Eventually the day arrived when Alex reached the coveted goal of Master of Towing, qualifying him to skipper his own vessel. What a day that was, Harry and Bob were hosting a celebratory party and Sid, Elsie, Dan and Rosalind were all joining the festivities. Sid, as usual, came through with the cake which Elsie had decorated with ‘congratulations’ and as many nonsensical folderols as she could possibly fit on top. Alex smiled when he saw it knowing the effort she put in for him and felt proud and so very grateful to have friends such as these gathered around him; acknowledging that without their support and encouragement he may never have reached his goal.

  ****

  Alex and Dan were thirty-four years old and had shared common interests throughout most of those years focussing specifically on issues such as self-improvement, political, environmental and nuclear disarmament. They and thousands of others had attended the huge public meeting held in London in 1958 officially launching Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND). Both had avidly watched the progression of this seemingly hopeless fight in view of the ever increasing production of nuclear weapons. Nevertheless, their enthusiasm had not been daunted and the years not wasted in their further development, both remaining highly motivated and becoming extremely accomplished, well-educated and informed young men.

  Dan had been instrumental in opening Alex’s mind to the dilemma of the black immigrants, particularly as he was a staunch supporter and participant in the 1959 general election for the first African parliamentary candidate, David Pitt, in the north London constituency. Dan’s work in the canvassing and campaigning for his idle was never ending and Alex also supported the cause with growing enthusiasm.