A Walk in the Park

16 MARCH 2013 – 1600 WORDS

CHARACTERS:
TED – HUSBAND
POLLY – WIFE
MARIA – WOMAN


Ted Pearce looked at Polly with Edward between them, holding their hands. Three now, he looked a picture. A handsome lad in his small brown tweed jacket and britches. His own starched collar and tie. Soon he would be able to tie his own boot laces. He was trying already.

There was no better place to show them off than in Willoughby’s new park on a Sunday afternoon. When he had left eight years before it had been no more than a pit village on the Nottingham Canal. Now it was a small town with a metalled  main road, a railway station and a gas works. Two circuits, then tea in the pavilion. 

People passed on the path and nodded at one another. Then a lady of mature years stopped when she saw Ted and his family coming towards her.

‘Edward, I never expected this. Will you introduce me?’

‘Mrs Marvel, meet my wife Polly and our son, Edward’, then turning to Polly he added ‘Mrs Marvel looks after Willoughby Chapel and knew my parents well’.

‘When did you get back?’

‘A few days ago. Mr Dace sent me the keys’.

‘Will you stay?’

‘We don’t know’.

‘And what are your thoughts Mrs Pearce? asked Mrs Marvel, looking directly at Polly.

‘Ted’s the breadwinner, so it will be his decision’.

Mrs Marvel returned her gaze to Ted. ‘Well Edward, whatever you decide, I wish you well’ and with a nod towards Polly, she walked stiffly away.

‘Not a word about your parents’ observed Polly.

‘Hardly surprising’ replied Ted.

In the one hundred yards or so it took to reach the tea pavilion, several more people recognised Ted and one elderly gentleman, looking rather imperious in his Sunday best, doffed his hat towards Polly.

‘Mr Palmer’ volunteered Ted.

Polly was none the wiser, but it was then that she realised they would not be staying in Willoughby.

Arriving at the Pavilion, Ted found a table on the veranda close to the entrance, where they sat down, On the bowling green in front of them there were two matches in progress. One of the men waved at Ted and nudged the young man next to him, who also smiled and waved. Ted may have been away a long time, but he clearly had not been forgotten.

A female voice to the side of Ted and Polly broke their gaze towards the bowling green. ‘What can I get you sir?’, then adding ‘Are you ready to order?’.


What followed took both of them by surprise, but for quite different reasons. Young Edward was oblivious to all this, as he had found a brightly coloured hairy caterpillar, which he was busy allowing to walk across his small hands in turn over and over again.

‘Oh my gawd, Ted’  the girl gasped and, suddenly, she looked a lot older to Polly. The woman ran her hands down her apron, as if wiping off the heat of the day. In an instant, she went from confident to nervous. Her eyes darted from Ted to Polly, then back again and across to Edward before stopping on Polly, as if waiting for an explanation.

*   *   *   *

Polly saw her Ted less than considered for the first time in the eight years she had known him — and she had been married to him for the last five of those years. He was always so calm and measured. Ted had arrived in her life without any hint of baggage. He had come to do a job and he did it well. Polly had watched him in the bakery, the way he managed when her father became ill. He took charge and she had been grateful. Polly welcomed his personal interest in her and was not upset when her father gave Ted permission to propose.

What followed suited them both, or so it had seemed until now. Polly even derived more pleasure from the physicality of their relationship than she had expected and Ted always seemed satisfied. The arrival of Edward had brought them even closer together and her father was overjoyed at having a grandson named after him.

Ted’s parents had gone to Walsall for the wedding and had not been what Polly expected. They were older than Ted had described them and his father was a master baker too, in charge of the Willoughby Co-operative & Provident Society’s bakery. They were very much part of their community, respected but different. They did not make or sell fancies or tin loaves like her father. If folk in Willoughby wanted such things they went to Nottingham. Mr and Mrs Pearce did not come to Edward’s christening. Ted had explained that his father would not have approved. He was ‘a Rationalist’, which Polly did not understand, nor could she be bothered to find out more. In a letter apologising, Ted’s Mother had said Mr Pearce was not well enough to travel to Walsall and ended by asking her son if he could pay them a visit. There was no mention of Polly or Edward, their grandson.

Ted never went, for he was happy where he was, assured one day that his father-in-law’s bakery would be his. In many ways it was already and he liked nothing better than to stroll around Walsall’s Arboretum with Polly beside him, pushing Edward in his pram, walking around the lakes and stopping to listen to the brass band, then to eat their own fancies in the tearooms. No charge of course. The manager saw to that. When he saw them coming, he would have a table cleared and welcome them in person, always ‘Mr Pearce, Mrs Pearce. How lovely to see you, and how is young Mr Edward today?’.

Ted was expecting to join his father-in-law on Walsall’s town council, as a Unionist of course, even though there was talk that his sympathies lay elsewhere. If that was what Polly wanted, that was reason enough for he loved her dearly and memorised every part of her body in intimate detail. Just like Maria’s. He didn’t tell her of course. She would be shocked to know he had such thoughts.

When the telegram had arrived from Mr Dace it was too late. His father was dead and already cremated — that latter had shocked Willoughby for he was the first. The body had been taken to Loughborough by train and disposed of without ceremony. Only Mr Dace, a few Rationalist friends and old Chartists from his more Radical days were present. It was all too much for his mother, who died within hours of Ted receiving the first telegram.

Ted replied, saying he would arrive in Willoughby the next day. He didn’t look at his mother and was overwhelmed with remorse by how many followed her coffin to the station for its journey to Loughborough. Mr Dace and another close friend of his parents, Mr Copec, were old Chartists too, and he respected them and their views. He especially liked the way they treated his mother and their own wives and daughters. They were good men and, without thinking, he tried to treat Polly the same. She never asked Ted about politics or whether women should be able to vote. If she had, Polly may well have been confused for he would not have lied. 

Willoughby was growing fast and part of him wanted to return, for there was money to be made in a town which would soon be bigger than Walsall, but guilt was holding him back.

*   *   *   *

‘Maria’.

‘Ted’

‘Well, now I know her name’ thought Polly, then ‘I wonder what else I should know?’

‘Maria, this is Polly, my wife, and the young man there is our son Edward’.

Maria just repeated herself. ‘Ted?’, except this time it was clearly a question and she was expecting an answer, but about what Polly couldn’t be sure.

Maria was beautiful, with a strong face and big boned, there was something Romany about her. Her dark eyes gazed at Ted with an intensity which suggested she was not a woman to be ignored once she wanted your attention.

Ted looked back at Polly. She could tell from his eyes that he was pleading ‘Rescue me’.

Polly wanted to shout ‘He’s mine!’ and to prove it she wanted to grab the lapels of his coat and pull him towards her, then kiss him firmly on the lips. She wasn’t angry or jealous. The sooner Ted was back in Walsall the better. He could sell his parents’ house and invest the money in expanding their own business. She wanted to open her own tearoom for ladies of standing, where they could gather and show off  in public. They would be happy to pay an extra tuppence for the privilege and Ted was the man to make this happen.

‘Maria, Edward has told me all about you’ Polly lied. ‘If we had the time I am sure we could find much to talk about, but it’s later than we thought and we have a train to catch. Edward just wanted to show me this charming little park. It’s been a pleasure to meet you at last’ and with that she rose to her feet, took young Edward’s hand and extended her arm towards Ted.

‘Edward’.

Polly did not have to say his name twice. Ted was up and away, only this time his look was directed towards Maria, as he silently mouthed ‘Sorry’ in her direction, and took one last look at what he had lost when he left Willoughby eight years before, little matter that Ted had promised Maria that once settled he would send for her. Until now he had not realised just how strong Polly was and that, in reality, he had never been in charge.

©ROBERT HOWARD


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