Tableland (5 page)

Have nearly got writer's cramp describing last night's events and suffice it to say that we spent this morning clearing up. Put feet up after lunch and went to sleep.

Am not really blessed with green fingers, as the saying goes, but always return from a visit to Wellkept Garden Centre fired with enthusiasm and great ideas for turning our front garden into a “Showplace of the North”.

Spent all afternoon there and, despite the icy wind, the place was crowded with enthusiasts.

We spotted the Downes' in the distance, struggling round with a laden trolley.

‘“What-ho!' I hailed them cheerily. ‘What have you got there?' But although Steve was very pleasant and he and Una kept saying how they'd enjoyed Friday evening, they seemed reluctant to divulge the secrets of their trolley and stood firmly in front of it.

‘Well, we must be on our way,' I said to Julie eventually – my feet were turning numb.

‘There is a lovely selection of herbs over there,' said Una, pointing to a spot on the horizon.

‘Thanks, we'll go and have a look' I replied, intending to do no such thing. Perhaps he had bought the last tin of a fantastic weedkiller, or a magic spray–on velvet lawn, or an exotic and rare tropical tree which would dazzle Springcroft Meadow in the summer. Actually, the contents looked no more interesting than a couple of lavender bushes, from what I could see.

Trev helped me choose two apple trees for our proposed orchard. ‘They look a bit weedy, Dad,' he kept saying. ‘Hope the wind doesn't blow them down.'

Thought we'd better have a couple of lavender bushes, one for each side of the front door, and then Julie wandered off to the packets of seeds, where her eyes grew quite glazed. With gay abandon, she chose about a dozen packets showing garishly-coloured flowers and well-scrubbed plump vegetables and lettuce. ‘Well, if the Downes' can grow such good veg from seeds, I don't see why we can't. ‘I'll make a little patch under the kitchen window. Think what a saving it will be.'

Decided we'd better leave after that before we became broke, and before tea we put in the apple trees and the lavender bushes. It gave me a glow of satisfaction to think of them growing there and really feel that we have literally dug our roots in Springcroft Meadow now, so to speak.

Spent day at the office – routine paperwork. Note that Avery is looking more shifty every day. Felt a bit low, due perhaps to imminent visit by Julie's mother, the weather – and possible lost opportunities. Kipper fillets for supper didn't improve matters and there was nothing good on television.

Very windy and rumbling from steel works kept me awake most of last night – was concerned for apple trees. Relieved to say they are still standing – no doubt due to supporting props.

Sorted through the caravan brochures in the evening and picked a good site in South Wales, where we can hire a caravan. It is near a beach and has all “mod cons” and every facility. Decided to write then and there and book. Spent rest of evening discussing this and making plans.

Julie seems to be going mad, turning the house upside down in preparation for the “visit” next week; her mother likes everything to be spotless. Had to go over to Liverpool to a Building Exhibition to man our trade stand, which bears the legend ‘I.C.T. Everything from the Tree.'

Spent rather boring and cold morning in St. George's Hall, regret to say not much interest shown in our stand.

Stick ‘Em Up (Timber adhesive) stand had more success.

Palled up with chap from Manchester branch of I.C.T. called Derek Wineglass, who suggested lunch at Jeannie's fish bar in town. Interesting experience and must take Julie there for evening out sometime. We descended into basement, rather dimly lit and strewn with fishnet, into which appeared to be sewn millions of green sequins, which glittered in the light of copper ship's lantern and a vast illuminated aquarium.

When our eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, we studied the menu and I chose Dover sole while Derek had a seafood cocktail containing mussels and goodness knows what else, followed by half a dozen oysters served on a plate shaped like a crab.

After that, we both had a very rich chocolate and cream cake. It may have been the strange lighting but thought Derek looked rather green around the gills after that little lot, or maybe it was the expense of the oysters. Promised to go and visit him and his wife Marlene at their new bungalow – Moor Top, 311 City Road, Heaton Moor. We then parted company.

Decided to stop at first shoe shop I came to and buy some new bedroom slippers – have never felt the same way about my old pair since the Butt episode. Chose a natty pair in rather a striking tartan.

When I emerged from shop, found the road full of people waving banners that said “Down, Down” and thought it was the Young Conservatives, then I saw the banners more clearly and realised it was “Rents Down”.

Had a lot to tell Julie when I arrived home this evening. Played football game with Trev after supper. No one noticed my new slippers.

Noticed that Avery took three hours for lunch today. Kept casting sly looks in my direction all afternoon. He's up to something.

Julie bursting with news when I got home. ‘The Uppes have asked us to dinner on the 14th. Mum will be here so she can babysit… The Butts are having shutters – blue – they arrived in a van with “Shillitoes Shutters” written on it and the corrugated paper fell off one of them – that's how I know they're blue… I went round to Una to return her electric mixer and when I looked through the kitchen window into the back garden, guess what I saw?' She paused for effect. ‘Their vegetable patch was full of half-grown cabbages, cauliflowers, etc., which weren't there last week. That's what they were smuggling out of Wellkept when we saw them. They don't grow them from seed after all.' Had a good laugh over this.

Avery receiving private telephone calls all morning. Was glad to get out of the office in the afternoon and spent three hours down by the docks at ship fitters etc. Weekend tomorrow.

Was furious to be woken up early this morning by the Butts putting up their shutters with much hammering and shouting and cursing. Their poodle, Lulu Belle, kept up a persistent yapping. The whole of Springcroft Meadow must have been woken by the noise. However, we must be thankful that they are trying to smarten up the appearance of their house.

Spent the morning getting our spare room ready. Found half empty large tin of orange paint in garage and decided to use this to cover stain on one wall. Stain did not disappear. Showed through in spite of three coats, but think on the whole it is slightly less noticeable and rather pleased with end result. Also painted top of dressing table, chest of drawers and wooden chair and was about to start on bedside table but was stopped by Julie.

After tea, popped over to Steve's to return the brochures. Was going to crack a joke about the vegetables but restrained myself and just said, ‘How's the garden?'

Steve seemed a trifle distant but thawed out over can of beer and we were soon discussing holidays. He and Una have been invited to the Uppes' for dinner on Friday as well.

Just as I was leaving, he confided to me his big scheme for part of the back garden. ‘I'm going to build a sun patio with a barbecue standing in the middle.' I must say, I was impressed – he certainly gets some good ideas.

‘How will you set about that?' I asked.

‘Oh, I'll make the terrace with some slabs of paving. I've ordered sun chairs from a colour supplement advert, and a chap at the Round Wheel knows of a blacksmith who can make a grill for the top of the barbecue. I'll do the bricklaying myself, of course.'

There it was, that magic name again – Round Wheel. Never seem to be able to find out any more about it – must make real effort soon.

Went for walk with Trev in the afternoon and reluctantly admit the Butts' gleaming new shutters look very good. They have also got new window box. Might be able to make one of these – will think about it. Julie met us at the door with depressing news.

‘Mum has just been on the ‘phone. She says Bri is coming with her.' My heart sank. Maintained dignified silence on the subject but felt hot words rising to lips and not even Vista's chop suey for supper dispelled the gloom.

Felt in a bit of a mood all day. Had “words” with Avery over an order which he had overestimated. Trina (our new office secretary) spilt tea all over my ledger. Harris has pouring cold, sore throat and seemed to be sneezing over me all the time, despite my saying repeatedly, ‘Don't mind me.'

P.R. called me into his office at three o'clock to hear all about the building exhibition of last week and didn't seem too pleased by lack of orders and, I may say, interest, shown to our stand.

Gordon Brimcup breezed in for a minute to collect some more plywood samples, seemed in optimistic mood and said he was going to wrestling match on Wednesday night and had two tickets, and would I like to go?

Was on the point of accepting kind offer, then realised that I would have to decline as it would be Julie's mother's first night with us and it might look a bit rude if I went out.

Spent evening fixing up ancient folding camp bed in Trev's room for him to sleep on during Bri's visit as the beds from the sale were no good after all. Got cuff of sweater caught in it and large hole developed when I tried to jerk it away. Mistakenly pulled thread, whereupon half sweater sleeve frayed away. Julie furious as it was the one she had knitted for me last Christmas. Had words.

‘You never liked that sweater, did you?!'

‘Of course I do, I wear it often enough, don't I?'

‘Just so that you can wear it out more quickly.'

After such stinging comments, I left Trev to get on with the bedroom arrangements then went for a walk around the block.

Popped into the Cock and Bull for a quick jar to settle the dust and there was Steve, wearing a pair of white shorts and a white sweater.

‘Good evening to you, Sire,' he hailed me. ‘What's your poison?'

‘A pint of bitter, thanks,' I replied. ‘Why the ‘whiter than white?'

‘Squash, old boy – great game. Chap at the Round Wheel nominated me for membership at the new club. Only just got in.'

We talked of this and that. Steve commiserated on hearing of mother-in-law's visit, then he said something of immense interest.

‘In June, the Round Wheel are thinking of having a gourmet evening to be organised by our president, Ken Dudgeon. Exact location top secret at the moment, but knowing Ken it's bound to be a memorable function, so to speak. The point is, each member can bring along a guest, so how about it?'

I replied, quick as a flash, ‘I'd be honoured, thanks a lot.'

‘All relevant details later,' said Steve. ‘Must pull up the anchor now, cheerio.'

Felt much brighter as I wended my way home contemplating a gourmet evening… and a possible future entrée into the select membership of the Round Wheel!

Had sandwiches in office for lunch today and tried to catch up on book work, despite constant distractions, like Trina and Mrs Lush having loud conversation about Trina's current boyfriend, latest hairstyle, diet of tomatoes and prunes (which tip I shall pass on to Julie's mother), new film on at the Odeon, etc., etc. and Avery making “confidential” telephone call in hushed voice, which made my ears flap trying to catch what he was saying – all to no avail, I might add. Think he did it just to annoy me, which it did. Was glad when he went out.

After visit to washroom and a quiet fag, found two memos on my desk – one from Mr Prescott-Henderson which said that our regional sales manager, Mr Woodnut, who has recently been up to head office in Manchester, was bringing a Mr Hamish McTartan from British Columbia to see our set-up at 2.30 on Thursday and could I be available to show him round – signed with his usual illegible signature: D.P.H. The other badly-typed memo was more sinister and simply said, “The toilet is blocked, ring a plumber” and signed Avery. Who does he think he is?

Never know how to address my mother-in-law. Her name being Nancy Brough, I started off by using the formal “Mrs Brough”, which developed into a jocular “Mrs B”. She once suggested I call her “Nancy” but somehow found this too familiar and the word “Mother” seemed to get stuck in my throat so I have developed a technique of not calling her anything, and have a nasty feeling that one day my sins will find me out. Be that as it may, “she” arrived on the 6.30 from Manchester. I had to pick Julie and Trevor up after work and we had a wild dash through the rush hour traffic to Lime Street Station in Liverpool.

As luck would have it, we got stuck in a traffic jam and, despite one or two crafty short cuts, by the time we rushed on to the platform, we could see the train had arrived. Suffice to say we heard her before we saw her – she being deep in conversation with fellow passenger.

We bundled her and her baggage into the car and set off. Her husband had been something in ‘plastic bags' and had obviously left her well endowed with the fruits of his trade as she had never appeared without at least three.

It wasn't until we were halfway home that she drew breath for a minute and, during that minute, Julie and I both shouted together ‘Where's Bri?'

‘Oh, I forgot to tell you, he couldn't come after all.'

(Felt extreme relief at this, but very annoyed when I remembered all the trouble we'd gone to with the beds.)

‘Why couldn't he come?' asked Julie.

‘Well, he's got the offer of a job at Butlin's – a Red Coat – and he had to go to Pwllheli for an interview and audition with his guitar.'

Don't see Bri as a healthy, clean-living, extroverted Red Coat, somehow. Last time I saw him his hair was almost down to his waist, very greasy, and he was covered in beads. However, I said pleasantly enough – ‘Hope he lands the job' and Julie said, ‘Perhaps he'll pop over and see us in a week or two then' and I gave her one of my looks.

Julie showed her mother up to her room and they then made a detailed tour of the house, Julie pointing out all its attractions.

After supper, I settled back to watch Sportsview but Julie quickly switched over to the other station.

‘Mum wants to watch the serial on the other side,' she explained, but we were unable to hear a word due to constant talk.