SIPS, SLIPS AND SNIPPETS OF LOVE 59

Saturday 2nd December

17 – Back together again – almost…

On her way back to Suffolk.   Again.  Harriet seem to have spent half her life on this bloody journey; every time she thinks she has got away she is dragged back.  She can’t seem to escape the wretched place.  She has been told in no uncertain terms that she is not welcome in Leeds anymore.

‘It would really be best for all concerned that you return to your parent’s home as soon as possible, you must see that Miss Wilkinson.  When things have returned to normal we can reconsider your current courses.’

So, she has been unceremoniously kicked out, sent back home, as if she was the one who had disgraced herself.  Okay, so she hadn’t exactly been doing much work lately and had skipped a few lectures and tutorials, but that isn’t the reason, Harriet reasons.  “It’s my fucking mother.  And now Dad has gone and done something foolish too, as if he had to somehow trump the stupidity of my mother.  God know what I will find when I get back home.  And of course I will be stuck there for God knows how long too.  I can hardly leave for my new life in London with all this shit going on can I?”

*  * *

Harriet joined Jane at the weekend, the Bursar’s office had telephoned their mother and she returned somewhat shamefaced, as if she realised that she had been the catalyst, if she hadn’t discovered my mother and Uncle Ted, then our father wouldn’t have gone mad and run off like this.  Jane was desperately waiting for Harriet to return; when she had left only three days ago she hadn’t been sure when she would see her again – there had been so much uncertainty in the air.  But now she felt they needed to be together, what was left of the family at least.  There was still no word about their father, each evening they would be updated by the local Police Sergeant.  The Bentley had been reported as far afield as Wales, but each sighting turned out to be a false trail, a mistake.

The sergeant was sure their father would return very soon. ‘They almost always do come back home after a few days, the runners, you know.’ He reassured them. ‘If we don’t catch him first, that is.  It’s not as if Mr. Wilkinson has done anything like this before either.  My guess is he’ll be back in a day or two’ he declared, as if his self-satisfaction would somehow reassure them.

None of which helped them at all, their mother and the girls.  They just sat around drinking cup after cup of tea, as if they couldn’t think of anything else to do.  Every time the telephone rang they nearly jumped out of their skins.  Could it be Dad?  Had he come to his senses and was on his way back?  Was it the police?  Had they spotted him?  Did anyone know where he was?  Jane was almost too scared to talk to her mother about what she was really frightened of.  It had been three days already since he had disappeared what if he was never coming back?  What if he had been planning his escape for some time?  Maybe he had been planning something like this all along, and her mother’s disgrace had just given him the cover he needed all along.  He was a solicitor after all so would have known how to set up a new identity somewhere else, maybe in London, or even abroad.  And lurking somewhere too, like a denizen of the deep circling around in the muddy bottom of her mind was the shark of an idea that maybe he had taken his own life.  That it had all been too much for him and he had decided to end it all.

*  * *

June was getting more and more worried, and she had cried herself dry.  This was all getting so out of hand, so ridiculously out of proportion.  Why, if Phil had been so insistent that she stay, that they should just carry on and try to hold everything together had he decided to run away.  Because that was what it was; he was running away from everything.  Phil the sensible one, the logical one, by far the cleverer of the two of them, had run away.  And left June to pick up the pieces.  He must have known what would happen next, the discovery of his stealing from both the firm and a few clients, the inevitable involvement of the police, the possibility of the house being re-possessed, the almost certainty that their marriage was well and truly over now.  Where would they all go to, what would happen to the girls if they lost the house?  For herself she couldn’t care less, but Jane was still at school.  Hadn’t he given a passing thought for the girls?

And to make matters worse, if they could possibly get any worse, she had been phoned by the University and told that her daughter was returning this weekend too, and that it would be best she remain at home for the forsee-able future.  What on earth was that supposed to mean?  There was no forsee-able future at all, as far as June could see.  At least while Harriet was at University she had one less thing to worry about, but now she was returning and presumably against her will, so her mood, never good of late, would be even more unpredictable.  They had rowed the day Phil disappeared, well rowed isn’t exactly correct.  Harriet had tried to humiliate her in front of Jane again; she had reduced her mother to tears.  Not that June felt she didn’t deserve some of it, but now she was worried what her mood would be like as Harriet was forced back home again.

The University hadn’t said why she was being sent home.  June wasn’t sure if the police had maybe talked to them and suggested she come home, or if there were some other reason.  Everyone had been totally surprised that she had come back unexpectedly last Tuesday, with such terrible consequences.  She had said she needed some money, but maybe that wasn’t really the reason.  Was she in some sort of trouble, or had she simply been missing too many classes?  And if June asked her, would she take it as her mother intended, a sign of her concern, or as just poking her nose into her affairs.  The girl was so unpredictable, and the last thing June wanted was more harsh words thrown around the kitchen.  She could do without that at the moment