The positive news is that the community of extended family which surrounds her have set aside their individual concerns to support and honour her spirit. Healing is happening all around- especially when we remember not to take ourselves too seriously. We smile at the synchronicities: Room #7 in Ward 77, a corner suite with a regal view, and the wonderful nurse named Gloria. The All has all in hand.
Drawing from life Chapter 6
On Friday evening one of Max Bruch’s Violin Concertos was on the stereo.
It was a CD Rhona had brought to Bill’s place with her. He confessed he rather
liked it, even though it wasn’t the sort of thing he chose to listen to
himself. He had ordered Chinese and while they waited for it to arrive he sat
in the lounge sketching her curled lazily at one end of his sofa. Over dinner
they planned how they would spend their first weekend together.
Rhona gave him a set of antique chisels. Later he spent some time
showing her a few of his better pieces of carving. He had never really done
cosy before and was surprised at how much he liked it. He told her he wanted to
get her a key cut so she could come and go from his place whenever she liked.
The next morning Rhona woke to the sound of the phone ringing. She heard
Bill answer it in the kitchen. When he finished his conversation she got up and
went out to him on dancing feet. He was bent over the kitchen table, standing
with his palms flat on its surface and his head dropped down. His hair had
fallen forward to hide his profile. She laid her left hand on his right
shoulder, peering around to see his expression, saying “Bill?”
He pulled his head up with effort and turned, slowly enveloping her in
his arms.
“What is it?” Her voice was hushed in response to his distress. He
pulled her in closer and pivoted her around to face outwards from him, holding
her tightly.
“Nothing”. He lifted his head and
crossed his arms over her body, pressing her spine to his chest. “Nothing I
can’t handle.” She stood silent, waiting. Finally he said “I have been fired- restructured-
ten years ... longest I’ve ever stayed
in one place.” Rhona remained quiet as he turned her around to face him. He sat
wearily in a dining chair, pulling her doll-like on to his lap.
“I have to go up there this morning,” he sniffed in a disapproving way. “Harsh
though eh? Letting me go on Friday night- without a word- then calling this
morning- 8am on a Saturday morning- on my own time. Can you believe it?”
She sat listening, a finger moving gently across the back of his hand,
hearing the unsaid words with the spoken ones. He looked at her now but with
shuttered eyes. “This will be in the papers next week. You of all people know
how they work.”
Rhona followed her own breath in and out in absolute silence. She could
hear him in the background now. He was saying it would be better all round if
she just left and let him get on with the PR for a few weeks. Maybe they could
see each other at some venue or other- to catch up.
On second thoughts, Bill was saying, it would be best for him to go away
for a while. Have a complete break. He was starting to sound as if he was
losing control. Rhona stood up slowly and he bounded to his feet. The chair was
knocked over backwards in his sudden release of energy. Still she didn’t speak.
Now Bill was saying how the show was over now and she would have to find some
other lucky fellow to assuage her boredom. There was more, but she had stopped
listening by then.
“Bill.” She managed a low pitch to her voice and a calm tone. He ignored
her. He had begun ranting that it was useless for her to want to discuss it.
There was nothing to discuss. She heard a sing-song, rehearsed quality to his
speech. It really wouldn’t work long term, he was saying.
“Bill.” She spoke firmly, expecting a response this time. It set him off
again.
“What is wrong with you woman?” He was yelling, demanding a fight.
“Look, I’ve explained. Finito.”
Rhona calmly returned to the bedroom to dress. When she returned, her
shoes squeaking on the wooden floor, Bill was still at the table. He sat with
his head down on his folded arms, with his face in to the table top. He didn’t
look up. She let herself out on to the street, pulling the door behind her with
a soft click of the deadlock. It was a beautiful clear morning. She crossed
over to the petrol station and hailed the taxi that was just pulling away from
the forecourt. There was no need to look back.
The severance meeting
at the Museum was over in no time. Bill had expected some debriefing procedure
but there was none. It took more time for him to clear his personal stuff out
of the office. He flinched at the thought of someone else going through his
desk when he saw the business paperwork had already been removed. He was not
left alone in the room at any time.
He drove Phil’s van back,
just under an hour later, and stacked his removal boxes on the kitchen
table. There was ten years of work
reduced to a few cartons and a severance cheque smaller than he had expected.
Philip had said the van wasn’t needed until after midday but Bill decided to
return it promptly, before opening time. Later there would be too many people
about. He would be seen and have to explain.
Naturally Philip
wanted to know what was going on when the van came back so soon.
Distracted, Bill ran
his hand over his hair and explained he had been given the push. Philip asked
carefully “Cost cutting?”
Bill shrugged and
stuffed his fists in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Only partly. Art
curating is out Phil. Event management is in. It’s not my thing anyway – multi
media. It’s probably just as well.”
Philip nodded. “Any
plans?”
Bill blew out his
cheeks. “I don’t know yet. Go bush for a while. Have a holiday maybe.”
He could see Philip
approved, but when he asked if Rhona knew about it Bill became impatient. His
jaw flexed before he told him it had nothing to do with her. Philip only raised
his eyebrows.
Bill turned to go.
“I’ll be in touch when I know what I’m doing. Oh, if I go away can I redirect
my mail here for a while?”
Philip had wandered
to the street door with him as they spoke. He stood on the footpath, leaning
against the door frame. “You know it’s no problem. Just don’t ask me to pay all
your bills.” Bill made an effort to smile at that. “I’d better push off.”
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