Cheryl Wilson

Links to Chapters One and Two are at the end of this post.

Regret 

At last, here is Anna tapping upon her front door. “Hello Pamla” she beams, “Frank tell me you come a few weeks ago. Hello Dulling,” she says to smiling Precious. “Mumm” says Precious from her mother’s encircling arms. “Goodness, she talking now.” “Yes she calls everyone Mum,” though truth is she rarely sees anyone. “I have been so busy, what with work, and my practicing good English,” starts Anna. “We all sit in class room and go How Now Brrown Cow over and over it sound silly but it is improving Our speech.“   Pam remains speechless. 

“Now I just quickly ask if you like to visit my house one Tuesday for cup of coffee. Just us,” she adds. “Thank lucky stars boring husband at work,” she smiles.  “So we can have girl chatting time.” “Okay, yes,” she agrees. “I must go now, Pamla, as Josie and her boyfriend – and soon he be her fiancée! – are coming for tea.”  Hurrying down Pam’s drive, she is shouting, ” And they want to discuss what engagement ring to buy!”  Pam wanting to gag instead mutters “and who gives a rats” at her innocent though smiling daughter.  Mum Mum Mum responds Precious, and grabs at her mother’s nose. 

Soon she is heating a jar of baby broth and spoons it to Precious, then for herself does a can of Campbells spicy tomato soup.  But Hell! There is still too much time to kill.  Next the telly is turned on though immediately switched off as it’s still the boring 5:30 news. Pam ponders should she ring David at Tom’s?  But why bother?  He’s already told her that the private phone – for all Tom’s girlfriends, so David has sworn – is in the store room out the back, and Tom mostly lets the phone ring out.  Shortly after, she is tucking in Precious, and while hoping it is for the entire night, is also lighting a cigarette – that is lately done with a vengeance, as it helps fill in the gaps.                                                  

Nothing to do but to hunt up a favorite record; although half an hour passes before she finds it hid among her husband’s imported albums.  Is it one of his unfunny jokes?  Or is it because he really dislikes “Tapestry”?  With that in her mind on go David’s headphones and Up goes the volume … when nothing is going right… just close your eyes …and think of me & soon I will be there to brighten up even your darkest.. – And of all people it is Marilyn she is recalling and wishes that her once best friend was standing beside her.  As the old Maz would circle an arm – the one with all the jangling bangles – lightly around her shoulder, pull her close until she gets a good whiff of Maz’s patchouli oil, and in the bossy and practical voice Maz used in order to soothe, would next say …you really shouldn’t worry, Pam, and you shouldn’t have to be upset this way, no effing man is worth this, this shitty treatment, this horrible married lifestyle he’s putting you through, and I saw it bloody well coming, and I really really wish that you and Precious could come and live with… Only none of this is making any sense.  As Fay has told her more than once how happy both are. How Royce plays guitar in a band, and that Marilyn’s taken up singing, and how much she loves it.  And that now Pam just has to accept that life doesn’t get much better than that. 

“It’s so nice to meet you,” he greets her from a table for two. “I’m Darcy Murphy. Helen’s arrived at the wine bar with a mental image of the retired solicitor as elderly, and imperiously judging her over wire rimmed glasses – just as a presentable man only a tad older than she flashed a crooked smile, and queried Helen?  It’s quite stopped Helen in her tracks. Immediately taken by the friendly lilt of his “How are you?” she smiles and sits, while Darcy goes to the counter for drinks. Then after a few pleasantries, he confirms that her estranged husband is decidedly leaving his inherited house to his two children. Seeing as, after Martin’s death, it went solely to Jack in Martin’s will. “I don’t think Jack ever moved on from the guilt of leaving you,” he adds. “He worked hard and saved money after Martin employed him to help manage the farm.  It was a live-in arrangement and they soon became good friends.” “What on earth can I say to that?” questions Helen.  “The fact is he walked away from us, and he got off extremely lightly.”  “Yes that he did.” agrees Darcy, “Well, anyway, he did at the time.  Though the bonus now is the house will be worth quite a bit, if, in turn, Richard and Pamela decide to sell. There are two farming chaps who are keen on buying the place due to the acreage, and I know they’d offer your kids excellent money.”  “Thank you for that,” goes Helen, now slightly gratified and sipping wine. “And you will get all Jack’s savings,” says Darcy finishing his glass.  “As you well know, Helen, he doesn’t trust banks so has hidden everything in the house.  Martin never minded, as he knew his friend well.  While Jack himself has nicely pointed it all out.”  Then he is smiling, “And I imagine you quite deserve it!” – “Thank you,” she responds, “and I tend to agree with you. Though, after all this time, why me?”  Darcy’s look is quizzical, “Well aren’t you still his wife?” “That’s only because neither of us ever got around to a divorce,” then hopes she didn’t sound too sharp; and while only a mite embarrassed, Darcy the solicitor lightly clears his throat. 

“And Jack won’t leave the house and go to a hospital?” is her next query. “No, he flatly refuses. The cancer’s now taking over. He has daily care coming in, and is comfortable enough.”  There’s a silence as Helen looks glum and checks her nails, and Darcy glancing toward a front window, is mindlessly noting crowds, then continues. “Before I flew here to Melbourne Jack told me your son rang. That they had a long talk. And Jack now knows that Richard is gay.  He also made it very clear to me that he fully supports his son.”  “Well at least that is something,” adds Helen quietly. “Isn’t it?”  “I believe Richard’s aware his father is dying,” he replies, “There is only another month or two left.”  “Yes I told Richard recently,” her voice is flat. “I had to tell someone.  Though my daughter doesn’t know.  As it is she doesn’t remember her father.  It’s made her life… difficult.”  “Of course, and with Pam being the youngest, I’m so sorry.”  “So am I,” frowns Helen.  Then Darcy is suddenly checking his watch. As his brother is waiting at his flat around the corner in Elgin Street. That he is driving Darcy to Tullamarine. Then Helen is responding that had she known earlier, she’d have taken him to the airport herself. With which Darcy reminds her he will be down for another stay – as there will be further business to discuss.  “Perhaps then, Helen,” he adds with a broad smile, “I will definitely take you up on the offer.” 

David is sitting at the foot of the bed, while on top of it sprawls Pam staring at the ceiling with hands folded behind her head.  Both are fully dressed, he’s not long walked in and it is very late.  She has just asked what’s going on? which only prompts a glowing response about his job.  “It’s stimulating,” he tells her, “Carlton’s a really amazing place. Tom’s introduced me to a lot of interesting people.“  “So what are we doing living here?” she butts in.  “Well you know I don’t want an effing house in Essendon… and Brunswick’s dead.  I made a mistake but at least I can see I’ve made the mistake –“  “You mean a mistake in us getting married?”  He sighs heavily.  “Probably. Yeah. Problem is our age, we are far too young for this.”  “Well I was pregnant David.”  “And that wasn’t my idea.” He glances at her with obvious disapproval.  “Remember I wanted you to go on the pill … only you wouldn’t.  Then you got pregnant and was determined to go through with it.  So I left that decision with you.” His voice cracks. “So don’t blame me for the outcome.”  She takes in the flushed face, the Levi jeans, the expensive boots he’s pushed off and is throwing to one side.  “I thought you loved me” she says.  “So did I.”  He’s gazing at the floor between his splayed knees, he flicks the cigarette into the ashtray.  “But it just isn’t working – “  “Is it the baby?”  “She’s not exactly a baby” he snaps. “Anyway you can’t blame a kid.  I wasn’t ready for one that’s all. And if you stopped to think about it you weren’t either.  You changed the moment she was born, and you just can’t rely on me.  You need to do something, get a job, you need to actually meet people.”  “What you’re really saying David is I’m not good enough!”  He stands, rubbing the backs of his legs, “I’m not listening to this shit!”  Their young daughter stirs in the next room.  David lowers his voice. “Seeing as you’ve now got a licence I’ll get you a second hand car.”  “Well at least I paid for the lessons and license with the last of my own money!” she reminds him. “As you’d made it clear there’d be no money for any extras once we were married.”  “That was then, Pam! This is now. So you’ll have no excuse for not getting yourself out!  I’ll get you a car if you stop blaming me for your bloody sorry life.”  And while thudding down the hall in his sox is exclaiming “It is another world out there!”  

End game  

“David,” she says while grinding a cigarette in the ornate gold rimmed ashtray.  “David says he’s far too busy these days even to – “  “I am so sorry to hear all this bad news, Pamla,” interrupts Anna who is pouring fresh tea, “It must be very lonely for you.”  “Anyway,” continues Pam, “I don’t understand how he can be stocktaking all the time, working with Tom until all hours, I feel lied too, I feel trapped.” –  There is fine line – Anna is thinking – between being friendly neighbor and giving hours advice to very upset mother half your age who is not your daughter – “I just hate the house” vents Pam, “I want to go back to work,” and pauses as Anna passes her another steaming mug.  “Though I will need a babysitter.”  She sips tea and deliberately shifts her gaze to Precious who’s fast crawling toward the scattered toys, the mementos of Anna’s second daughter.  “Do you think, Anna… Do you think you could help look after Precious?”  Anna is thoughtful while Pam stares at her anxiously.  “If it were bit different I would – but I can’t – Pamla I mean. No. I am starting lot more hours in fruit shop.” Anna is visibly uncomfortable. “I got to think of my marriage, to our future.  So me and Frank saving. We want to sell this house and buy big house for when we have grandchildren – “  “But you can’t!” goes Pam and is about to cry – when the telephone shrilly rings.  “I must answer, sorry,” says Anna jumping up, “it will be my daughter.”  She is heard saying loudly “Hang on one minute Josie, I just seeing visitor out,” then the phone clunks on wood and Anna appears at the doorway.  “There, there, don’t be upset Pamla,” and puts an arm around Pam’s waist, guiding her toward the front door. “I will speak with you soon, and you look after yourself” she tells the reluctant guest.  “Bye bye dulling,” she adds to Precious now bundled in her mother’s arms, then snatching up a cute musical teddy bear presses it onto her while saying, “Josie won’t mind you having this, now you be good girl for mum.”

Back in the drab house Pam tosses the musical bear to one side, props her daughter in the playpen, and surrounds her with other soft toys.  She then dials a number and is relieved when the phone is engaged; as it’s been ages, and she’s not even sure if it is still Marilyn’s number.  Next the tv is switched on; and as it’s still the boring news it’s switched off, and a cigarette is lit before she is out in the yard – now throttled with ugly tall thistles – to check if the clothes have dried.  She is noting another splat of birdshit on David’s favorite dark striped shirt – but leaves it pegged to the line as she’s realizing it is exactly as Helen has told her.  That she must be patient, must bide her time, though as soon as… as soon as… andsaunters inside with arms full of fresh dry clothing, toward her Precious, who is wobbling but is standing as she clutches the rungs of the playpen, while her eyes shine boldly at her mother.

Cheryl’s note:  Most of the characters in “Heartbeats” came from my previous story “Innocence & Cigarettes” after I began to wonder what might happen next.  

Links to Chapter One and Two.

Heart Beats – Chapter One

Heartbeats – Chapter Two

About Cheryl Wilson 

Writing stories may be a way of life or as an escape from real life. I enjoy inventing characters and placing them in surroundings once familiar to me – especially our inner northern suburbs during the seventies. I also write shorter pieces about real people who are closer to my heart.

Copyright Cheryl Wilson, November 2024. All rights reserved; this intellectual property belongs solely to Cheryl Wilson.