I still recall the day Charles pulled up in his company motorcar, the chauffeur stopping right at the front gate of the old manor. Exhausted from the long drive, he lingered a moment, gathered his suitcase, thanked the driver and, with a sigh, announced, The welcome ceremony is about to begin.
His wife, Catherine, emerged in a flowing summer dress of bright, floral hues, the very shade of Julys late bloom. She always chose her garments to match the month, and this one was a perfect echo of the season.
Sweeping her silk hair over her shoulders, she quickened her steps and smiled at him with a gracious tilt of her head.
Charles, weve been waiting for this can you believe it? Ive secured the finest landscape designereveryones lining up for his services, but Ive managed to get him for us, she said, her voice tinged with triumph.
Charles wanted instantly to ask, Whats the price? but remembered the old custom of the welcome ceremony: a kiss first. He obliged, pressing his lips to hers.
Catherine, youve grown even lovelier, he murmured, looping his arm around her slender waist. And, I must admit, Ive missed you terribly.
Ive missed you too, she replied, leaning in, momentarily forgetting the garden plans that had occupied her thoughts.
Is Annie home? Charles inquired, referring to their housekeeper.
Shes at the neighbours, the Millers girl, you know, the one from the next lane, Catherine answered.
So its just the two of us, Charles smiled, feeling the ache of his absence dissolve. He darted to the shower, then ushered Catherine toward the bedroom.
Charles, I also discovered a boutique I think youll adore. Ive already bought a dressabsolutely stunning, she whispered, eyes sparkling.
Do we really need the dress? he teased, pulling her close. You could come out without any of it at all; youre perfect to me just as you are.
Later, Catherine tried on her new wardrobe, her excitement barely contained.
Lets see it later, Charles said, dressing himself. I hope theres something to eat at home, so we wont have to rush to the pub.
Of course, she replied, Mrs. Anne Whitaker has prepared everything.
Anne Whitaker their longstanding housekeeperwas a whirlwind of efficiency.
And what about me? Ive brought in the right people to spruce up our estate, to make it look as fine as the Bakers place. Isnt it thanks to me that we have that new set of furniture? Catherine pressed.
The old set hasnt even had time to wear out, Charles replied dryly.
And the curtains? she continued, pointing to the drapes. Notice the colour match.
I appreciate all of it, and rest assured I never skimp on the finances, he said, choosing silence over a blunt rebuke.
Charles, Im off to the salon! she announced, a hint of panic in her voice.
Why the rush? he asked.
Its a topclass salon; I booked a month ago. I cant be late. Dont worry, dear, Anna will be back soonshe even asked me to bring her along.
Bring whom? he queried.
Anna, to the salon, she replied.
Isnt it a bit early for her? he muttered.
Let the girl learn a bit of elegance and how to look after herself, Catherine said, twirling, her golden hair catching the light.
Charles ate alone while the house waited. Soon after, their daughter, Annie, burst in, clinging to his leg.
Father! she squealed, the welcome ceremony continuing. Wheres Mother?
Didnt she tell you about the salon? he asked.
Ohshes gone! I asked her to take me, I need a manicure, Annie replied.
Your nails are perfect, Charles praised, though his tone hinted at the fleeting nature of trends.
Dad, youre joking, that colour isnt in fashion any more, she retorted.
Perhaps you applied that polish three days ago, but a new craze has already swooped in, and you feel the urge to change, he chuckled.
Seriously, Dad? she groaned.
Just the other day I read a book on style he began.
Do you ever find the time? Youre always working, she protested.
On the road, in brief breaks. By the way, have you read anything lately? he asked.
Every day I skim somethingfashion, makeup, the usual fluff, she admitted.
I see: the latest trends, the newest makeup, all that nonsense he sighed.
Dad, Im just a girl, she whined.
Girl, girl come here, he said, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. I still love you.
That evening Catherine returned, twirling as she entered, eager to show off her new look.
What do you think? she asked.
Charles, trying not to look foolish, replied simply, Brilliant. Youre radiant.
By night he was weary, despite having been home only a day.
Charles, I forgot to tell youMartha Thompson called, worried about you, Catherine reminded him.
Ah, Aunt Martha I should pay her a visit. Ill phone her tomorrow, he said.
Will you go alone? she asked.
Well all go together, he replied.
Are you serious? What could we possibly do in that little village? she laughed.
Its not a village, its a market town. Four hours by car, he explained.
I see no difference, she shrugged.
Its a pity, Charles murmured as he drifted toward sleep, Ill have to travel alone.
Charles never liked travelling for pleasure; he was always on business. Yet a visit to Aunt Martha, who had been like a second mother for ten years, was a duty he could not shirk.
He set off in his own car, windows down, letting the fresh wind lift his spirits.
Auntie Martha! Have you really made it out here for me? the septuagenarian greeted him with a warm smile, her simplicity inviting conversation. No formalities needed here.
Sorry I havent visited in a year, work kept me away, he said.
Youre a restless soul, she chided, ruffling his hair as she used to when he was a child. She was a head shorter than him, but her presence felt taller.
Sit down, Charles, Ill get you something to eat, she offered.
He felt like a child again, being fed by his aunt rather than his mother. The modest spread grew steadily on the table.
Charles, Im not as skilled in cuisine as you are back in the city. You must dine out often, she observed.
Catherine and Annie love restaurants, but I prefer home cooking. I hate being a spectator at a fancy table. By the way, Ill bring you a little souvenir from the office, he replied.
No need, dear, I have everything, she said.
Forgive me, Auntie, but youre the sort of person who deserves a treat, he insisted.
Martha settled opposite him, supporting her chin with a fist, pride evident in her eyes. She praised his education, his selfmade career, his reliability.
Charles, youre always jetsetting across the country, she sighed.
Mostly up north, in the hills, he answered.
It must be cold up there, she noted.
He laughed. Its warm now.
Then why do you keep coming and going? Youre hardly ever here, she remarked.
He finished his meal, then took her delicate hand, kissed it gently, and said, Thank you, Auntie Martha.
He always called her thatsoftly, affectionately.
A little berry drink, perhaps? I have a pot of redcurrant cordial, she offered.
Nothing would lift my spirits more, he replied. Your cordial is like fresh water to a weary traveler.
She sighed, I worry, dear, youre a family man but youre seldom at home. It must be hard.
He savoured the sweet drink. Hard? No, its easier the farther I am from the house. Distance brings relief.
She shivered. What are you saying, Charles? Why stay away?
He tried to soothe her. Dont be frightened, Auntie. Ive never tasted such a drink before.
Its because its made from my own gardens berries, the ones in the backyard, she explained. So why stay away?
If I were nearer, Id have put her to sleep long ago, he said with a wry grin.
Who? she asked, bewildered.
From dawn till dusk, and even at night, its all talk of salons, boutiques, colours, masters, makeup, what Mrs. Whitaker wore, what Alina chose, and what the Bakers are gossiping about. Every day the same. From a distance its bearable. I come, spend a little, give the money, and leave again. Thats all I need, he said, shrugging.
What about Annie? she queried.
Shes a copy of Catherineidentical tastes. Three years ago I gave her a home library, picked the books myself, checked the ratings now they sit unread. I prefer paper books, but the ereader is handy on the road. I tried to interest Catherine and Annie in readingno use. Theyll spend hours on their phones looking for the next nailartist or gossiping with friends, he explained.
I never realised, Martha said, astonished. Im always for family, but now I see
No, no, he waved her off. Im happy with my choice. I wanted a beautiful wife and I got her. I love her, even with all the fuss over interiors, guests, and salons. I love her.
And Annie?
Shell be just finebeautiful like her mother, ready to present herself well. Shell marry a man of prospects, perhaps like me, and live comfortably.
So youll be off again soon?
This time only for a month, two weeks at most. Enough to rest.
Your work is your rest, he said.
That night he gathered his things, embraced his aunt, slipped a few pounds onto the bedside table, and left a jar of redcurrant jam as a parting gift, sealing his farewell with a kiss.
Aunt Martha was the only person he ever confessed that his endless trips were a source of joy, that his life, as it stood, satisfied himjust as his marriage to Catherine did. And he was certain that, sometimes, thats exactly how it goes.
