Moving On

Jane is fifty-nine, she has all her teeth, no health concerns and Eric Clapton on her playlist. She has just cleaned the house which, she has been led to understand, has increased in value by 987% in the last 27 years. If it was sold then a downsize would release capital aplenty, but for what she is not sure, and anyway that would mean she would have to empty her empty nest.

Roger has all his hair and a vending machine induced rubber ring torso which he pretends does not include hardened arteries. He is in his workshop, somewhere he no longer has an excuse to ignore following the recent conclusion of his city career. He is worried by the half-finished contents locked away in the chest in the corner. He guesses he should throw them out.

Tom, their joint glowing success is coming for lunch along with his equally shiny wife Meg. Evidently, they have some news that they want to share with them. Maybe he has finally decided to take his Star Wars and Lord of the Rings models Jane thinks, while Roger looks forward to hearing how his son’s life is mapping assuredly out ahead of him.

During the meal they both notice that Meg stays with the water, so at the end of the meal, and when the announcement finally arrives, it is a relief that it is not just a health choice. The arrival of a grandchild has now come clearly onto the horizon. New life.

Lots of plans, lots of questions, lots of secret thoughts. Maybe we should stay here Jane starts to think, a family home for lots of family visits. While Roger starts to think about future school fees, and how the sale of the house could help.

Sensible Tom, their clever, reliable child who owned all the milestones, excelled and overachieved. Who had worked doubly hard as his peers, trying his best to make things better for his parents, is now uncharacteristically hesitant and slowly starts to speak, “I thought that the little bean might like some of Lucy’s soft toys when he or she arrives.” He stops, and Jane reminds herself that he is kind and not cruel, “Mum, it is time, surely,” he pleads.

      Tom swallows loudly, and Meg reaches out with a steadying hand, “And Dad, we thought it would be lovely if maybe you finished making Lucy’s rocking horse,” he trails off.

      Roger thinks about the wood mocking him in his shed. Jane thinks about the bedroom above which, apart from its weekly dust, has remained untouched since that fateful accident 17 years, 3 months and 2 weeks ago when Lucy’s future was abruptly and devastatingly stopped.

Roger and Jane look at each other. Long and hard. And, in that moment they are closer than they have ever been. In that instant they are perfectly instep.

Slowly they both nod. Yes.

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