A World Apart (2 page)

Kerry was a quiet woman with a middle class upbringing, although she did like to indulge on occasions when necessary.

‘Two bunches of your pink rose please’ spoke the older women dressed in a laced overcoat and purple scarf.

‘These have been a favourite just lately’ replied Kerry with an intriguing smile that warmed the customer.

‘It’s my daughter’s baby shower so I thought I would surprise her’ said the women scurrying for money in her purse whilst balancing many purchases earlier in the afternoon.

‘I’m sure she will love them’ said Kerry reassuringly, remembering all her gifts when Francesca was born.

The women exchanged money for goods and the old lady walked off as Kerry began to close the florist for the night. She was so over worked, she was thinking of taking a holiday, but she had Christmas orders so she felt obliged along with guilt to carry on working. The cold wind hit Kerry taking her breath around the block as she gasped as she reached for the leaver to close the shutters to the shop just as the clock ticked dead on 5:30pm.

Kerry heard a voice as she glided back to the till in a state of unconscious tiredness as she recalled this voice.

‘Kerry…. Kerry…. Happy…’ declared Rupert in a fit of excitement stopping mid-sentence once he clocked eyes with her. Kerry saw a man at the shutters clutching a bunch of very expensive flowers and some kind of envelope. She signified that she would lock up in the form of a hand gesture and left the shop via the side entrance to the left of the shop, next to Raymond’s jewellery, one of the finest in Manhattan. Kerry and Rupert greeted each other with a leap into Rupert’s arms to form a hug with Kerry as she spun air born and legs swirling off the ground.

‘Happy birthday Kerry’ said Rupert in a proud way.

‘You really shouldn’t have…your so kind to me…I love you so much Rupert come here’ Kerry announced with a slight tear unveiling from the corner of her right eye, which was swiftly wiped away before Rupert could see, along with a snuffle from the nostril. She was so delighted to see Rupert, after all the long hours he had been doing she felt distance from him and rejection, which all vanished in an instant. Kerry opened the envelope that Rupert passed to her not taking her eyes off him for one second.

‘That is lovely Rupert, honestly you do spoil me’ said Kerry in her usual soft voice that Rupert loved. The two linked arm in arm as they walked down the street. Rupert realised he had to be at his meeting for 6:00pm that evening, and to Kerry’s distaste Rupert left into the night hailing down a yellow taxi and ascending off into the night, he never did like to use the technology that he ironically spends his life devoting to, as he went to his meeting realising what he had placed in Kerry’s pocket, and smiled.

Kerry, feeling loved was now suddenly alone. She reached for her arm and lifted up her sleeve where her communication device was located and stated ‘
Taxi from Manhattan to New York Central’
. The device bleeped and she seemed to press a button. Within a few minutes later a taxi halted jeeringly at her feet catching the edge of a puddle as the car braked. Kerry got into the taxi where a belt automatically swept across her and locked into place. The car glided off down the dimly lit empty street, where only faint noises of families enjoying their feasts. Kerry looked out of the steamed window pane of the taxi wiping away the condensation to focus on the something, as her journey would take a while. 

It was then that Kerry started thinking about her father Frankie who was not coping so well after her grandmother Elizabeth and her sudden death. Frankie had also his father Jim to attend to after being declared unable to look after himself. Frankie had no option due to financial difficulties and his job, which is an intelligence officer for the Government, leaving no option but to place his father in a home where he like, Oxford, England. All this was just over three months previously and it was then that it struck her; maybe she should call, write to him or even fly back to England to see him. Once Kerry married Rupert she felt some kind of inner hatred towards Rupert, not intentionally it was just that she was very close to her parents and Rupert wanted her to move to America to start a new life. A better life, one with no poverty, pain and subject to violence, as her father regularly subjected to bringing his problems home for the family to endure obviously passed down from his father’s side.

Something was prodding Kerry in the lower abdominal region of her stomach. She scuffled around in her trouser pockets, finding nothing. She then realised it was in her long silky overcoat and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper that had sharp edges. The pain in her stomach vanished as she tore open the envelope and proceeded in unveiling its contents. The long slips contained one word that seemed to elevate her eyes as she beamed at the slips. It was there in black and white, England.

Regardless of the pain that her father had caused her she still loved both Frankie and her grandfather Jim, loving them dearly and wishing nothing better than for them to have a peaceful life after all the troubles they have been through. Kerry recalled Jim’s 80
th
birthday seven years ago, him dressed in a party hat, all smiles laughing and joking as he did when he was all so fit and healthy. She had been toying on the thought for a while and realised that life is so precious and that in the blink of an eye your whole world can change.

‘It is going to get brighter by the end of the week folks with expected showers heading north and the band of warm weather coming your way, so put away your umbrellas…. coming next is our special guests Amon Red Stars, the new and upcoming boy band from the west midlands.’
said the local presenter of the Oxfordshire radio station.

The old man sitting in his wheelchair gazing out upon the world from the conservatory listening to the radio looked saddened, whether this was due to his position in life, pain, the longing to see his wife and his children remained uncertain. For one thing the old man was kind to the workers of the home and everyone seemed to love his company and jokes, even if they were incredibly unfunny and completely out of context. 

Jim, or the old man in the corner never did like America, after the family became religiously obsessed with visiting for holidays he decided to stay and live the rest of his life in tranquility, the countryside was seen as ‘a greenery of gentle glamour’ which always stuck in Kerry’s mind as she imagined a breeze on a hot English summers day and her family all together, the sparkle of sun rays reflecting off the grass blinding anyone who made contact. Kerry came around after a few seconds and was filled with a desire to reach out and grab the past as she missed those times most of all. All the feelings of happiness and joy were replaced with wrath on herself for not visiting her father enough.

The taxi halted as the automatic voice stated
‘Destination-please insert a form of payment and have a pleasant evening
’. Kerry placed her index finger of her right arm onto a glassed pane situated in front of her close to the drinks cabinet. The car was spacious and very comfortable with windows either side but none in front like her grandfather remembers, this nearly always make’s Kerry cringe, especially when he used to rant on about having to drive yourself, I mean this seams completely preposterous. A ray of blue and red lasers scanned over her finger and the machine spoke softly ‘Payment granted- Thank you Mrs. Marvel’. Kerry left the taxi and looked up at the tall building just over the road from her, it was a very old building and it looked haunted, as there was an eerie presence along with dark clouds that seemed to linger above as she walked to the spiked tall black gate. The stars were peering out behind the thick placid clouds sparkling randomly as Kerry took one last look above her, feeling a nauseating pain throughout as she reached for her keys to her spacious home in Park Avenue on the upper east side, the house that Rupert has worked so hard for. Kerry pulled back her sleeve and said her grandfather’s nursing home clearly into her embedded telephone piece on her wrist underside
‘Manalan Nursing’s, Oxfordshire, England’.

The trolley squeaked as the wheels changed from carpeted surface to that of wooden. It was the health assistant bringing the patients their medicine for the night before bedtime. Jim hated medication of which he thought he was alone with this thought, unaware that the majority of the patients and retired persons really wanted nothing better than to wonder free down to the local shop or walk their pets, something human, whereas to be placed here Jim thought of as captivity like a bear in chains.

The young women wearing a blue tight fitting uniform that really didn’t accent her figure began reading Jim’s medical record on the way to finding him. The blue folder with reams of notes looked tattered and eroded. The young women flicked through the contents of the documents to locate Jim’s medication. Jim had unfortunately been diagnosed with a progressing Alzheimer’s and before this he had been having troubles with his heart, which made him lose the feeling in one side of his body after having an aggressive heart attack. This made Jim unable to talk much to the staff or family, of which made him reclusive, aggressive and sad as Frankie had recalled one of the matrons viewing a tear on occasions in despair for being speechless.

‘Evening Jim, how are we today then?’ shouted matron Henchworth in an extremely patronising tone. Jim acknowledged in the form of a murmur and a half smile that was about all he could manage.

‘Time for your medication and then bedtime I think for you lot’ said the matron after a long pause looking around the room whilst attending to Jim’s medication. Jim looked at the floor with an absorbing stare wondering whether things would change. A youngish girl of Asian orientation entered the room with urgency as the matron beamed at her.

‘Can’t you see I’m busy, go and attend to the others’ declared the matron with a stare that was soul penetrating. The small Asian women took this in her stride, obviously having been spoken to like this constantly in her working profession here.

‘But Miss this is a video transmission from America for Mr. Marvel’ whined the women. The matron looked confused and the eyed the blue and white clock faced situated about the canteen hatch.

‘Surely not at this hour!’ protested the matron. Jim made a loud noise, probably one of the loudest he’s made, as he looked tearful with eyes widened with intrigue. The matron glanced at the Asian women and then to Jim.

‘Very well, he’ll take the call in here’ accepted the matron grudgingly. The small women placed the call through into the conservatory area, where the matron noticed it had started getting quite dark and placed the mushroom shaped lamp on in the unfinished bricked corner, which gave little help to anyone.

The Asian women passed what looked like a diary to the matron who stared back at the women as se stood next to her.

‘Well…. don’t you have any work to do?’ questioned the matron. The Asian women Dia turned away and looked at the floor whilst muttering something in Arabic, which I’m guessing, wasn’t a thank you. The matron placed the device into Jim’s hand and pressed a button on the side. The reflection of his daughters face in Jim’s eyes as he smiled frantically, tears streaming down his jagged face dripping onto his bib and onto the device giving a splatter that distorted the picture. The matron wiped away the tear and left the room.

‘I’ll be back in five minutes Jim’ softly spoke the matron, shutting the French doors behind her and exiting through the dark room attending to the door and lighting a cigarette.

‘Jim, how are you?’ asked Kerry in the knowledge that he couldn’t respond.

‘We are coming over to see you and Frankie in a few days’ added Kerry.

‘Anyway, I just wanted to check on you. Rupert wishes you well; he’s working quite a lot at the moment. I will call you again before we get the flight out to England. Hope you’re ok and we are looking forward to seeing you soon, love you bye’ ended Kerry as the device screen went blank and returned to the normal screen menu. Jim looked wildly happy as the matron returned. All of his family together made him feel safe, if only someone could look him after.

The matron placed the pills and liquids into Jim’s mouth and rubbed his throat to ease the effort of swallowing and wheeled him to the lift next to the stairs, clicking the lights off as she went.

The telephone rang with an almighty clattering ting that shook Frankie who was leaning back on his chair, feet raised on his desk in his army barracks tent looking over the papers of new recruits, he found something odd about the applicants’ similarity. The tent was full of dusty guns, papers, medical equipment and the length of the tent was rather huge, designed for around forty or fifty persons. The assessment of the new recruits and its deadline all vanished as he was distracted by the telephone over to his left, bellowing away making the table vibrate. Frankie left his desk and proceeded over towards the small rickety table and lifted the receiver, placing it to his ear and mouth, although not speaking.

‘Frankie here of the London Intelligence Alliance’ said Frankie with an element of authority.

‘Sir, may I bring to your attention that there is suspicion and possibility of a terrorist attack in London and in America, England being the major target’ said the young man as the receiver died to a monotone decibel.