BOTH SIDES OF THE MOON

 

                                                                  Chapter Sixteen

 

Trevor Branner had found an excuse, should one be needed, to visit his old school again, and with just a little trepidation went to the general office, where he hoped to find Jean.

    He thought he had detected some interest in him at their last meeting, so, keeping his fingers crossed in case he had misread the signals, he made his usual ‘rat tat’ on the sliding hatch.

   ' After all,' he pondered as he waited for a response, 'she's quite a lot younger than me,  fifteen years or more at a guess, and he had no idea about her social life.  She might have a boy friend or even be married. The lack of a ring on her finger did not signify anything for certain'.

    “Yes.” It was miss grumpy again, emerging from behind the sliding door. Just as before the question’ was abruptly asked.

    “May I see Miss Thomason please?” he asked nicely.

    “What’s it about?” not altering her tone at all.

    Sergeant Branner was not too pleased at this, but did not want to spoil his chances with a display of temper. Quite often he wore his uniform when working, but on this occasion he was in ‘plain clothes’ mode.  Carefully and slowly, he took out his wallet from his inside pocket, from which he then removed his Police Identity Badge.

     Carefully and slowly he held it up in front of her face. “Would you tell Miss Thomason that she is under arrest; please?”

    He saw her expression change at last, from plain grumpy to one of utter astonishment, and she seemed almost to stop breathing.  Without saying a word she picked up a phone and pressed a few buttons.  In a moment she was trying to speak to someone, but it was little more than a splutter.  Eventually she managed to find her words.

    “Is that Jean?” A brief pause followed while ‘Jean’ answered.

    “You had better come down straight away; I think there may be a bit of a problem.”

    In a few moments the door next to the hatch opened, and Jean appeared.  She saw Trevor, and at once her face opened up into a glorious smile.

    Trevor was gladdened to see such a warm reception, and hoped that it was a good sign.

    “Sergeant Branner,” she said, “how nice.” And then in a slightly worried fashion she asked, “Is there a problem?”

    “Yes, I’m afraid there is.” Trevor said, putting on a rather stern voice. “I came to see you, but your colleague - ”  he stopped to indicate the young lady in the hatch -  “is being over protective, and will not let me see you without a warrant.”

    “Really,” drawled Jean, her smile now transformed to a mischievous grin. “and what did you want to see me for?”

    Sergeant Branner had been around some, and knew pretty well when to advance and when to retreat.  The signs were clear that this young lady knew what game he was playing, and he sensed agreeable vibes, so he thought he could be bold.

     Ignoring the audience of one, who was still peering through the hatch, but now wearing a look of intrigue, he said, “I would like you to go out with me; dinner; theatre; both even.”  he added quickly not wanting to appear cheap  “Whatever you fancy; I would be very pleased if you would say yes.”

    “Just a minute and I will get my coat.”  Jean answered, turning as if to go.

    “Hang on; hold on a minute. I don’t mean now, I’m still working.”

    “I know,” said Jean, with a little chuckle of a laugh, “ I’m having a bit of fun with you.”

    Trevor was encouraged. “Does that mean yes?” he asked, eyes wide; hopefully.

    “Yes it does.” Jean answered,  “When did you have in mind?”

    “Well; I had hoped tonight.”

    “Tonight!; my word, you don’t hang around do you?”

    “Nothing to hang around for; what do you say?”  He asked, pressing his advantage.

    “Alright, you win.” she said, with that little chuckle again ,“I bet you’ve already decided where we are going, haven’t you?” Jean said, subtlety giving Trevor the lead.

    “Yes,” said Trevor “Dinner tonight, Theatre tomorrow night, night club Friday or Saturday, and then; who knows.” he gave a little clicking noise with his mouth.

    “Ok, Ok, that’s enough.” she said laughing, “Let’s just start with tonight.”

    They arranged a time, and a place where Trevor could collect her, and then he was ready for off. He turned, and gave a little salute “Goodbye ladies.” he said.

    “Thank you Trevor.” said Jean looking radiant.

    “Thank you Trevor.” said Miss grumpy, still in the hatch. Trevor looked at her.  It was the first time he had seen her smile.

 

Jonathan  was excited.  For too long pressures on him had left him feeling bemused and bewildered.  Since his dad died he had been pulled from pillar to post, mostly by forces he didn’t understand. 'When would it end?' he had asked himself.  Perhaps now he could look forward more optimistically than for quite a while.

    At one time all he could see was dark and gray, but now he could see that some good things had happened as well. He was getting on well with his mother; better than for ages. For too long he had seen only her ‘hard’ side, as she dealt with the daily round of looking after family and husband.  A husband that he had discovered had not been the hero of his dreams, and who, he now knew, was not the man he had secretly admired.

    Now he was able to see the loving side of his mother; her best side; the side he had taken so much for granted. And through her he now knew that his dad was not the villain he had thought him to be, but like himself, was a victim of circumstances.

    Now, unbelievably another man had come into his life. One who, in his own mind, had also been cast in the villain's role but was now emerging as something quite different.

    Also there was Claire, who he had come to love, and had loved.  How could he have got through it all without her? Were they too young?.  Many would say so.  Were they irresponsible ?  Perhaps some would say so.  Yet they both felt that their love was strong, and would endure.

    Unbelievably, through this turbulent time, was the discovery of his athletic talent. Lurking unknown, this had been spotted and nurtured by his sports master, another man who Jonathan had despised. But he it was who, in just a few short weeks, had gained his respect, and had brought him to inter-school standard as an athlete.  

    Now, despite little training, and even less experience, Mr Wilson had put him in the school team, for the 'Inter County' match. A four school event against schools from neighbouring counties, which was to take place that very afternoon.

    He was excited; he could feel it now, even with a few hours to go, and he could hardly contain himself.  Claire would be there to cheer him on.  He had asked his mother if she would like to go, but though she had arranged something with Edward she promised to try.  He had accepted the new development, and was glad now, especially for his mother. Also he had started to realize that as his life evolved he would gradually move away, so it was for the best.  

    He didn’t mind really, if she could not be there to see him run; Claire was the one he wanted in his corner.

 

Rodney was pleased with his team. The inclusion of the, so far, untried Jonathan, was an intriguing factor, and he hoped to see the emergence of a new star.  He had seen from the start that he could run fast, and seemingly at any distance, but up to now, there had not been a chance to try him out against top flight competition.  

    Running was about more than just speed.  It was about tactics, a sense of pace, a sense of place, a sense of being; of pitting ones self against an advisory; known or unknown.

    “This is where I find out if he can really run.” he said to the man standing next to him at the track side.  The man next to him was his friend, the county schools coach, who was there at Rodney’s invitation to meet Jonathan, and to see him in action.  Rodney had been enthusiastic about him when they spoke on the phone recently, and had warned that he would be lost to the county without special coaching.

    “I’m just not the man for the job,” he had said “I don’t have your skills, and that boy needs someone like you.”

    So it was agreed that if Rodney’s assessment was anywhere near accurate, he would invite Jonathan to join the county squad.

    While they were talking, one of his other boys, stopped to introduce his parents, who had come to watch, and to encourage their son.  This was a pleasant interlude, which was brought to an end when the ‘son’ was called to the track for his race, and his eager parents went to the track side to cheer him on.  Here they were joined by a family friend, a young lady who had come along to add vocal support.

    Jonathan had been entered in three races, and the triple jump.  As the day wore on, and one by one the events were completed, Jonathan had much to be pleased about.  He had two wins in the shorter distances, winning both heats and finals in the One Hundred, and Two Hundred metre events.  That would have been success enough for most, but he still had two more events, and it was time for the triple jump.

    Mr Wilson had shown him the rudiments of this event, and then told him just to do his best.  More than most events the triple jump required a sound technique, and dedicated training. “But I have a hunch you will do well.” he had said.

    He was right because, although his lack of proper training was exposed, after a close contest Jonathan finished with a creditable third. Soon it was the heats of the 1500 metres.

    “This is the one.” Mr Wilson had told him. “Just run your heart out, and we will look at technique later.”

    Again he found that the ability to run fast was not enough, and he had to work hard to qualify for the final, but he got there and now he had to wait for the last race of the day.

    Just before the final Rodney called him over, and introduced him to his friend the county coach.  The coach asked Jonathan about his ambitions, and about his commitment.  Jonathan was fired up, and did not want to miss this chance.

    “If you are up for it I will soon know. Do your best now, and then we will see what we can do for you.” he had said, as Jonathan was called to the track.

    Four laps against seven other boys, three of them older than he, and one of them by nearly two years.

    Jonathan found his way to the start.  He was tense now and nervous, aware that he was at another x point in his life. Success now could open up a whole new world for him: failure would dump him back on the sidelines.

    He was also aware of the many eyes that would be upon him; mostly anonymous eyes of people he had never met, and who, for the most part, he would never meet, but also there would be the eyes of those people who at this time in his life were important to him.  

    Claire’s eyes.  Of all the eyes upon him now, these were the ones he was running for.

    The starter called them to order, and Jonathan took his place in lane four.  His main rival, the oldest boy in the race, and favourite to win, was in lane three. They were off on the first gun; no false starts to complicate things, though in fact it was not a good start for Jonathan, holding back just a fraction too long, so as not to beat the gun.  

    He was on his way and concentrating now on his position, the first lap being restricted to lanes, under penalty of disqualification.  That would be worse than losing, so he had to be careful, but his inexperience made that difficult, and he became slightly disorientated, unsure of his position.

   So he just ran and soon the lane discipline was behind him, as all the runners moved across to the inside lane.  Jonathan again had been a little slow to make that move, so he found himself on the outside of the bunch, all the others to his left, and all just ahead of him.  

    He was keeping up easily, and was running well within himself, so being last did not worry him, and suddenly he was overcome by a feeling of joy.  The sheer thrill of what he was doing was enormous, and he felt so good.  

    The race preceded like this, with one or two miner place adjustments ahead of him, until about half way around the third lap, when suddenly one of the other runners shot ahead, and, for a little while left the pack behind. As if stung into action, all the other runners followed suit, leaving Jonathan isolated at the rear,  his euphoria fast disappearing with the pack.

    He woke up quickly, determined not to be caught ‘dreaming’ again.  Fortunately he was not the only one in the race who was short of experience, and the boy who had sprinted off could not sustain his advantage, and was soon caught up by the pack.  The pace slowed just enough for Jonathan to rejoin them as he heard the bell.  

    They were now in the last lap, and it was time for the race favourite to show his authority.  Jonathan saw him ahead, and then saw him break free as he eased his way into the lead, creating an ever widening distance between himself and the other runners.  

    Jonathan instinctively knew that this was his moment too.  No time now for theory’s and technique, no time now for tactics; he simply had to run like he had never run before.  

    From some unknown source he found an extra ounce of power, an extra inch of stride, and an extra fraction of pace, and one by one he made his way up the field.  Into the last half of the last lap, and he had reached the third position, both runners in front looking strong.  Now it was down to grit and determination; now it came down to how it all started; natural talent.  

    Jonathan knew there was little time left as he summoned up every last grain of strength and stamina, forcing himself into second position.  Only one hundred metres to go, and Jonathan was nearly in touching distance to the boy in front, and getting closer by the second. The winning post flew at them as they crossed the line almost together, and the race was over. He could hear nothing but the beating of his heart, and the drumming in his ears.  Not the cheering and shouting as the crowd raised themselves to their feet.  Not the sound of the public address system as the announcer gave out the result. Only the gasping for breath, and the sound of blood rushing through his head, blotting out everything from his mind.

     Jonathan could sense the groans of disappointment from his little group, when they heard that he had come second, and he was very crestfallen as he walked back to his team area, where Mr Wilson, and the county coach were waiting.  Claire was there too, and for the first time he could remember, he faced her as the vanquished.  He was surprised therefore, that his sports master was so ecstatic, as was his new coach.  Coming second to the best known, and currently the most successful runner in the inter-school league was no failure.Also, considering Jonathan’s raw, untutored state, it was more than anyone had dared to hope for.

    Claire was nearly hysterical, jumping up and down, throwing her arms around him, and incidentally, telling the many other girls around to keep off.  'This is my boyfriend’.

      His new coach took Jonathan just a little to one side, and asked him again if he was serious.

    “I’m up for it.” Jonathan answered.

    “Good, ” said the coach, and then rather alarmingly, “because this is where the hard work starts.”

    Rodney meanwhile was talking to the rest of his team, congratulating them on their efforts, even though they were just four points from victory. The parents of the young man who had been introduced earlier returned, keen to add their congratulations to many others, and immediately went to Mr Wilson.’

     “What a wonderful effort all round.” said the father.  

    “And all so young, aren’t they Jenny?” said the mother, turning to her friend.

    “They are all wonderful.” she answered.

    The boys mother then said, in a special way that all ladies adopt when they have unattached friends who they think need a ‘suitable’ partner.  “I’m so sorry, but I didn’t introduce you to our friend Miss Kramer. We've known her for years; ever since we both started to work in the same office, Such a nice lady.” she concluded. 

    “Pleased to meet you Miss Kramer.” Rodney said taking her hand, and was at once struck by her open smile, her beauty, and by the direct way she looked at him.

            “And I’m pleased to meat you too. But please call me Jenny. All my friends call me Jenny; besides Miss Kramer makes me sound very old.’”

    “Far from it Jenny, old you are not, and I am Rodney.”

    Rodney couldn’t say what it was, but something happened. He had never met Jenny before and yet there was something familiar about her.  Something about her yes. There was something in her gaze that seemed to go straight to his soul and he somehow felt that he was being  inspected; scrutinised ; sized up. It was a curios but not unpleasant sensation and the encounter continued pleasantly.  Rodney did not have her insight but sensed that she was happy to be subjecting him to this mental process for she seemed to be saying, ‘I like what I see’.

    Rodney smiled back willingly being drawn in by Jenny’s charm. The feeling was mutual.

 

                                                                                The End

 

                                                  Well not quite the end, for as you know,

                                                  with all stories about people and families

                                                  and relationships there really is no end -

                                                  just the beginning of new stories.

 

© Michael G Kimber