BOTH SIDES OF THE MOON

 

                                                                             Chapter Fifteen

 

Edward was feeling strangely happy. There had been some twists and turns in his life lately, and at times he couldn’t think which way was up. His life had been fairly predictable until; he stopped to think; until the day John told him he was leaving.

    “Yes, that was it.” he said talking out loud “Not all that long ago either.” He seemed happy to be answering his own questions, but in that short time my life has changed out of all recognition. “And now;” he stopped because he still could hardly believe it, “I might be getting married.”

    He thought of Margaret again, and how she had reacted when he had told her of his past lifestyle. No anger; no shock; no disbelief; just acceptance.

    “I know.” she had said. “But its not the end of the world, and we’ll work it out.”

    Then he thought of the children, and wondered how they had taken the news of a possible marriage. He wanted to see her as soon as he could to find out, and to face them. He was sure that he could get to like them, and he hoped that he might get to love them.

    “But what will they think of me?” he asked himself. "And how much about me will I have to tell them?”

    He was worried about this. Being totally honest with Margaret was one thing, and he could face that, but finding the right balance with the children might be difficult. It would be difficult for Margaret too, for she would not wish to deceive them. He hoped that a mixture of good sense and love would see them through, and looking upwards said, as if to another presence, “It’s down to you now.”

    The church had never been a major factor in his life, and although it wasn’t very often he called for Divine intervention, there had been times when he had felt the need for a powerful ally. Now, perhaps more than ever, he needed that friend. But he had made up his mind. If they were to have a future, things had to change. He knew that it would not be easy, but Margaret has shown that she believed in him, so now he must believe in himself.

    He had to confront her children, and somehow build a bridge. He felt that there was a chasm between them, even though it possibly existed only in his mind, but he had to find a way to get onto their side. Whatever else, he must never place Margaret in a position in which she had to choose between himself and her children. That would be too distressing for her, and he would walk away first. In any case, were that to happen, he had no illusions that she would choose them.

     He resolved to call her that night.

 

Margaret was not her usual self. At work she was quietly confident, good at her job, an efficient checkout cashier. At work she was Mrs Marshall, known to the manager, and the supervisors, as a hard working, cooperative, and friendly member of the team. Respected as a competent and qualified participant oin a successful organization.

    At home it had been different. She had been Mr Marshall's wife, wife of Bill, unnoticed, uncared for, unattractive and mother of two indifferent children.

    For years she had been living a double life. On the one hand, as an undervalued servant, whose duty was to provide food and shelter for her family. Expected always to be available to her children, and to provide her husband with all the 'home comforts': save one.   

    When Bill died, so did her double life, though she didn’t notice it at first. Even though they hadn’t shared their love for a long time, they did share a life, if only by his continued presence. His death had been a big shock, and it had surprised her to discover that her grief was real. But gradually, as she picked up the pieces she began to notice some changes. Her children had suffered badly, and Emma now ‘clung’ to her. Even Jonathan had changed. Though badly affected, he seemed to be recovering from his roller-coaster, and was closer now, acting more like a friend than a son. At times so self assured; yet at others still her little boy. But he was growing up fast, and seemed to be more aware of her than he had ever been.

   The distinction between her two former selves was blurring, and gradually while Mrs Marshall was slowly fading away, Margaret Marshall was emerging.

    Her ‘shift’ now over, Margaret was doing a quick shop, thinking as usual of her children, and their evening meal. She had paid for her purchases, bid her colleague at the till goodnight, and was making her way towards the way out. Standing by the door was her one time adversary, now friend, the supervisor Mrs Woods.

    “You off now Margaret?” inquired Mrs Woods as she was passing.

    “Yes, I think I have had enough for today.” she answered, “I’ll just go home and put my feet up I think.”

    “Perhaps he’s got a different idea.” Mrs Woods replied, motioning with her eyes towards the door.

    “Who do you mean?”

    “Who do you think I mean? Your singing in the rain friend of course.” she answered.

    “Margaret was somewhat taken aback. She knew it must be Edward, though she didn't understand the reference. She felt an unfamiliar sensation in her cheeks, and with a little giggle she said, “I’d better get off then.” She smiled at her supervisor, suddenly feeling years younger.

    She left the store, and sure enough Edward was there waiting for her. He was standing by a barrier, one foot on the lower rail, and supported by outstretched arms on the upper one. His expression changed as soon as he saw her, and he hoped that she wouldn’t be cross at him being there.

    He could see at once that she was not cross, and moved so that he could meet her half way. When they came together, they hugged, and after just a little hesitation, their lips met. It was not much of a kiss, as kisses go; little more than a peck  really, but it was enough. To a starving person a crust of bread is a feast, and Margaret had been starved of love. Edward had not, but his love had been of a  different kind, and now he was experiencing a love that he would never have believed possible. A feast indeed.

    “What are you doing here?” she asked.

    “I want to see your children.” he answered directly. “I was going to phone you tonight, but then I decided to meet you here, and if you will let me, go home with you.”

    “Don’t you think it’s too soon?” she asked, looking a little worried.

    “Yes, perhaps it is; but I think we have to take that chance.” Not waiting for her to speak, he said, “We both know it might be a big hurdle, but I think that the longer we put it off, the bigger it will become.”

    “I know; I know,” Margaret’s voice hardly audible, “but I can’t help worrying.”

    The old Edward had spent his life being directed, always waiting for someone to take the lead, happy to be lead, but this was not the old Edward, and although he still had some way to go he was more assured, and would if pushed, be the man in front.

    “If the balloon is going to go up it’s better that it should happen now, and not in six months or a year.”

    He looked directly at Margaret as he spoke. “I know you are worried, but we have to face it; let’s face it now.”

    Margaret looked deep into Edwards eyes. She knew that they were both taking a big gamble, and there might be doubts, but here he was, asking to face things together.

    “Alright,” she said, “let’s go.”

    They soon got to the bus stop, and shortly were on their way. It was a rather quiet journey, an anxious silence having descended, and by journeys end they were both a little uptight. The short walk from the bus stop to the house was conducted with hardly a word, and then Margaret was at the door, fumbling in her handbag for the key. But she was taken by surprise when the door opened, and there was Jonathan, standing in the doorway. Margaret was surprised for Jonathan was not supposed to be home yet, so there would be no chance for a last minute chat, and her heart sank when she noticed that he was looking over her shoulder, unsmiling, at Edward.

    Edward froze when he saw Jonathan looking at him, so gravely, unwelcoming; a stern, perhaps even angry, look on his face. He stared straight at him, afraid to look away, lest it should be seen as a sign of weakness or submission.

    “What a wimp,” he told himself,  “being afraid of a fifteen year old boy.”

    By now Margaret was in the house, and Jonathan was still standing in the open doorway, as if to block the way. Edward had not moved for a while, and though he had maintained his gaze he felt as though his legs had turned to stone. A few long seconds elapsed, neither of them moving, until Edward saw Jonathan raise his arm. He pointed towards the lounge. “Won’t you come in Mr Willett?” he said.

    Edward, feeling a little light headed, climbed the few steps, and passing the still unsmiling Jonathan, and went into the house. When he reached the lounge, he was surprised to see a young lady standing next to Margaret.

    She smiled at him, and Margaret, looking for a way to ease the electric atmosphere, introduced them to each other.

    “Nice to meat you Claire.” said Edward, just as he heard the sound of Jonathan entering the room behind him. All four were standing, nothing said other than the introductions, and the atmosphere remained tense.

    It was Jonathan, who sensibly broke the ice. “Can’t we all sit down?” he said.

    They sat down, Margaret and Edward on the settee, while Jonathan took one of the easy chairs. Claire moved across to sit on the arm of Jonathan’s chair, and without waiting, leaned forward and took his hand.

    Edward noticed Margaret’s look of surprise at this, with an involuntary sideways glance, but his mind was too much on other things to consider the implications of that. He was more concerned at what this unexpected meeting might lead to. He had wanted a confrontation, and here it was, but somewhat sooner than he had anticipated.

    There was a period of awkward silence, as each of them considered how to start. Edward made the first move.

    “Jonathan,” he started, then paused a little, getting his words in the right order, “a lot of things have happened since your father died, and you have all gone through the hoop; none more than you, but no one can tell what’s going to happen; or when.” Still holding the floor he continued. “Everything was mixed up, and it was a very hard time for you all, but in the middle of it all something happened; something wonderful.”

    He stopped, allowing Jonathan to respond, but Jonathan made no attempt to do so, so he continued.

    “Nothing was planned; no one expected it; but amongst all the sadness and confusion your mother and me fell in love.”

    Still Jonathan made no move to speak, so once again Edward took the lead. “We want to be together.” He looked at Margaret, and then returned his focus on Jonathan. “We want to be married, and we want your blessing. You are too important to your mother, and she cannot risk losing you; she; we; cannot move on without knowing that you will always be part of her family.”

    Edward had gone as far as he could, and Jonathan still did not seem to have anything to say, so once again there was an uncomfortable silence.

    Claire, still holding Jonathan’s hand, gave it a shake, breaking him free from a trance like state, and, as if urging him on, motioned that he should say something. Now he was centre stage, and perhaps even more unrehearsed than Edward. He got up from his chair and walked the few paces to where his mother was sitting, bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. Turning to her boyfriend now sitting ashen faced next to her, he quietly offered his hand.

    Edward took his hand, the gesture of friendship he hoped for, and as he did so he heard the young man utter one solitary word.

    “Cool.”