No going back - 38. Projects

"Are you and Colin coming to the show next weekend?"

"You bet. I want to see what you've been up to these last few weeks and want to support you." It was Monday evening; Joe and I were washing up after supper. "Colin's coming too. He's interested and besides he sings in a choir and knows that having an audience is important. Why? Is there a problem?"

"No. It's great. All the others will have someone there."

"So, you'll be pulling your weight. But…"

He went silent, continuing to dry a plate that was already dried and shiny. "We're doing a proper play, but there are short pieces too, and we've got together in groups to work on our own things."

"You mean that small groups of you are creating your own scenes to perform?"

"Yeah, and with us, Moses, Vanda, Blessing and me, we've done a scene that I wrote. Well me, with a bit of input from Vanda as she's sort of directing it."

"Wow. That's terrific. I can't wait." I turned to congratulate him, but he still looked glum, panic-stricken almost. "So, what's the problem? You want your Mum and I not to be there for it?"

"It's just", he gulped, looked away then responded in a fast mumble, "It's a scene between grandad and his Dad, I sort of imagined what they might have said to each other."

"The religious bigot and the arms dealer?"

He gave a nervous smile, "Something like that. We wanted to use that sort of title, but they wouldn't let us."

"Look, I think it's a great idea. There's no problem from me, and certainly I can't see there being any issues with your Mum. We don't want to pretend things were different."

"If you're sure?" I hugged him. I wasn't a great hugger, and I don't think Mhairi was either, it wasn't how we'd been brought up. Joe stiffened but accepted my attentions with good grace.

"What gave you the idea?"

"Well, I did that project at school on great grandad's firm, and then you and Mum were talking. And you mentioned how grandad was real religious and rigid when you were young. And his Dad had sold arms, and how there must have been a rift, because of the money and the will. I sort of got to wondering what grandad might have said to his Dad. I also put in some stuff that my Dad goes on about."

"So, it's about your Dad too?"

He dipped his head in agreement, "A bit. I got the idea, and Blessing and Vanda encouraged me, and it sort of happened."

I tried to get a bit more information out of him, but he rather clammed up, embarrassed to be talking about his writing. He did admit that he'd experimented with 'other stuff', and but that it was encouragement from the kids on the course that had given him the main impetus.

After a bit of a pause, when I thought that the conversation was at an end, Joe tried a different tack, resolutely ignoring my interest in his other writings and returning to my Dad, his Dad and the money.

“Do you reckon your Dad got any money from his parents, being as they created those trusts and that for you and Mum? Do you think it was a religious thing?”

“You mean did my grandad refuse to give his religious bigot of a son any money in his will, or did my Dad refuse to take it?” Joe nodded. “Straight answer is I’ve no idea. Dad never said a dickie bird. Remember that when Dad was born, there was the expectation that some of the business would survive, and we’ve no idea whether my Dad got any money given to him during his Dad’s lifetime.”

“You mean you’ve already had your whack?”

I shrugged, “For all we know, Dad’s parents might have been comfortable with their son’s religious bent.”

“We don’t know much about them?”

“Dead on.”

“But the will and that?”

“You mean, did money change hands so that Dad could delay us getting access to the trusts?”

“Yeah, I wondered whether the solicitors in Manchester will find anything.”

“Truthfully. I think we’ll be lucky if they even find any evidence of wrongdoing, I think the best we can hope for is a settlement because of the original solicitors’ failure of duty of care to their clients.”

“The solicitors should have put you and Mum first, rather than kowtowing to grandad?”

“That’s it, but if anything shady took place then it was almost certainly on a verbal basis, nothing written down.”

“So, there’ll be no proof. Huh! What about the church, the Brethren?”

I pulled a face, “If they were involved, if the solicitor was a mate of Dad’s from the church, then we’re not going to find that either. And it was ages ago, I doubt that the church keeps anything like that amount of records.”

Joe let out a depressed sigh, “No, expect you are right.”

“Look, it’s just one of those things where we have to look forward, not back. OK? Think about the things we have, not the things we haven’t?”

“Like the money.”

I smiled and ruffled Joe’s hair, which caused the boy to momentarily frown, “And family, and friends. Enjoy what you have, right?”

Joe gave a sheepish grin, “Right.”

---

>Bloody hell, Owain. When you texted, I thought it must be something serious.

"Sorry, Mhairi, I should have been a bit clearer, only I'd no idea how to word it succinctly.”

>Hmm. Right scared me. So, Joe's OK?

"More than OK. He's been lovely to have around. Tidy, doing the washing up, chatting with Colin and I, coming with us to the garden centre, helping in the garden on Sunday.”

>I can't believe it's my son you're talking about.

"We do need to have a chat about Nathan, but I don't think that's urgent, it can wait until you get back.”

>Nathan. Right, I can probably imagine. Joe tell you anything?

"Some. I didn't quiz him, but things did come out, about his relationship with his Father.”

>More than he tells me. We can talk when I get back. But what's this about Sunday?

"As well as Joe’s course finishing with the performance of a proper play, there's a series of short scenes that the kids have pulled together themselves. Evidently Joe teamed up with a trio called Moses, Vanda and Blessing, but instead of taking something existing, Joe came up with his own idea, and Vanda evidently encouraged him. Moses and Blessing are doing the acting, Joe and Vanda share the writing and directing, I think.

>And this is important now, because?

"The scene is an imagined confrontation between our Dad and his Dad, sort of the religious bigot and the arms dealer. They were going to call it something like that, but that idea got canned. And there's a bit of Joe's view of Nathan going off on one, as well. Joe's glad we're going but worried we might be angry about the scene."

Mhairi started laughing.

>Stone the crows. There was me worried he'd react badly to all of this stuff about the family coming out, the exhibition and all. You know what kids are like, avoiding being the focus of attention. And now here he is writing about it. So, Moses and this Blessing are playing Dad and grandad. Is Blessing a girl or a boy?

"Girl. She's playing Dad and evidently is real fierce. Moses is grandad. I gather Joe did most of the writing, with a bit of help from Vanda, and she's directing but with input from him. Plus some outside help from one of the course tutors, Tom Walsh. He seems to be encouraging Joe."

>Look, is Joe a quick worker or what?

"It was planned. He had stuff written but daren't show it to anyone. He took it to Walsh at the start of the course, Walsh encouraged Joe but more importantly so did Vanda. It's not finished, whatever that means, but the idea is that during the course the kids workshop ideas, not present finished products."

>And to think I wanted to say no. He's written other things?

"I gather so, but he clams up if you try to find out more."

>Now that does sound more like Joe.

---

"Any word from your Mum or Annalisa?"

Colin shrugged, "Not really. Both emailed to say they liked the photos. Mum said it was shame we never made it on Sunday, the twins had been looking forward to seeing us."

"More moral blackmail?"

"I reckon so. I said that we'd taken your nephew to the garden centre and had a great time. I don't think I can expect much more. Miles is always going to be…"

"Miles. You OK with all this?"

"Not really. It makes me so angry, that he gets to be a prize arsehole, and everyone just puts up with it, whilst I'm the one no-one takes seriously. I've got a successful business and a great relationship, but what's most important is that I respect Miles. Fuck that."

I squeezed his hand. I'd rarely seen him this worked up. "Who is the business for?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you create it? To give yourself satisfaction or to impress your family?"

"Because I wanted to. It's for me. I didn't think about them when I started it."

"It gives you satisfaction?"

"Yeah."

"So, if your Mum, Miles and Annalisa don't appreciate it, then that's their loss. You didn't start the business to impress them."

"Hell no. I started it because I could see other folk doing the work badly."

"See. Hold on to what you have. It's your life and not your Mum's, right?"

"Yeah. So, what do I do?"

"Live with it. Go on as we are, or even let your Mum know exactly how you feel."

"And have her say I'm being my usual self. 'Colin needs to settle down and get a nice girlfriend'.”

"Perhaps. You need to think how important they are to you. Only you know that. I lived for years without my parents but am only now realising what I was missing. There'll have to be compromises. Are your family worth it?"

"You reckon I should just go on with things."

"Leave them as they are, stay in touch, send them photos, invite them to the wedding, that sort of thing."

"Hang on, wedding? Did I miss something?"

I grinned, "Sorry, I was jumping over a few steps. I sort of assumed we'd make things official at some point."

Colin snuggled into me and kissed me, "You've got to propose to me first?"

"Or you can propose to me."

He smiled.

---

I’d had various bits of paperwork about my grandparents’ money, but the financial advisors and the solicitors were still waiting for the final all clear from probate. I was beginning to get my head around what I wanted to do. Which meant chatting to Colin again. Joe was out rehearsing, then carousing but had assured us he would not be late. Colin was staying and had cooked us one of his neat pasta dishes. It was warm, so we were sitting outside enjoying the balmy evening and the work that Colin, with some help from Joe, had been doing on the garden. There was still an expanse of lawn, but around it were large beds that would become drifts of plants. I had little idea what the final result would be like but looked forward to the developments. And it was nice that we were working on something together, whilst Joe had said that he could come over and continue to help with the heavy digging.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh aye? What about?”

“The money.”

“Your grandparents? Is there any news?”

“All the paperwork’s in place, still waiting for the final say so.”

He cocked his head on one side, “So?”

I held up my hands, “Hear me out before you object.”

He rolled his eyes, “That bad, eh!”

“I was thinking about the first payment, it’ll be for a year, in arrears, then payments will come six monthly. I don’t need the money.”

“But…”

“Oh, there are things that would be nice. But I’d like to do something concrete, not fritter it away”.

“You were talking about giving to charity.”

“There’s that, and we will do, but I was also thinking about something closer to home, your business.”

“Oh”, Colin went quiet and still.

“I know nothing about the business and don’t feel comfortable muscling in, but we did talk about me investing. Well, I had an idea.”

“What?”

“I give you a loan. Interest free and it covers the first year’s salary for a new admin assistant and the rent on a new office. After a year, we can see where you are and what we do. OK?”

“You mean it? An admin assistant?”

“Secretary, PA or what you will. Part-time. Answer the phone, do paperwork, perhaps do preliminary talks to clients, leave you to the heavy stuff.”

“Wow. And an office.”

“Well, we’ve talked about it. But I thought something small, but professional looking.”

“To meet clients”, and he grinned. “It makes sense. I’ve been trying to start giving Bruno more responsibility. He was great at the planning when we went to Oslo, so the plan is to involve him more.”

“So, you’d have two assistants, one in the office and one on the building side. Would he be able to supervise as well?”

“We’ll see. I think he might be a better planner than a supervisor. But you never know.”

“You need to give him a bit of responsibility and see if he responds.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“There’s something else.”

“What?”

“You could economise, or refocus where the money is going, by moving in here and renting out your flat.” Colin just stared. Shit. “Look, I like having you around, a lot. And I know we talked about you moving in at some point, and joked about getting married, more than joked. But the one isn’t dependent on the other. Loan and moving in. Sorry. I’m doing this badly. It’s the way my mind works, thinking about cash flow.”

“Cashflow!” A funny look on Colin’s face.

“But then I thought how nice it would be to have you around. All the time. To wake up cuddled next to you every morning. To hear you singing to yourself whilst you cook in the kitchen. I think there’s space. So, it’s something I’d like, but it also makes economic sense.”

He smiled, “We could even add an extension.”

“Or a shed, there’d be plenty of room for one at the end of the lawn.”

He laughed, “Inviting me to live in the shed.”

“So, what do you think?”

He gave me a slow smile, “That you’ll find anything excuse to not ask me directly!”, before I could comment he continued, “But you’re you, and I like that. So yes. To everything. If we take it slow.” He leaned over and kissed me, it was rather awkward, the chairs weren’t made for that sort of activity, but we made it work. “And I like the idea of waking up next to you too. And I’ll start looking for premises and think about the new position. And the shed”, he smiled and squeezed my hand.

“You like the idea of a shed?”

“When I was a kid, I used to do stuff in Dad’s shed. Help him, and then later do projects of my own.”

“Did he mind?”

“He understood. We were both quiet, liked the shed as an escape.”

“From?”

He shrugged, “Mum, Miles. Talking, getting talked at, being organised, them getting at you. Well, Mum didn’t get at Dad much, they had an understanding. But, well, me.”

“Not much has changed.”

He gave an embarrassed dip of the head, “Mum and Miles think that my business is just another shed.”

“An excuse to avoid your real responsibilities?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Then we’ll show them otherwise. Nice new office, professional staff to man it”, I cocked my head.

“And a shed too?”

I rolled my eyes, “There is room in the garden, and it would be somewhere to put your more practical stuff, a workshop.”

“I’d like to take things slow. Next week, I’ll start keeping more stuff here and stay more often than not.”

I squeezed his hand, “Good.”

He got up and went to fetch something. He returned with a notebook and started making a list of things to do.

“Admin assistant – responsibilities”

“Desirable and essential qualities.”

He nodded, “Job description.”

“Hours, and salary range. Do some research on what’s out there.”

He gave a wince but nodded, “Draft advert.”

“You need to check where to put it. On-line places and such.”

He rolled his eyes, “All those letters and CVs.”

“We can go through them together. Make a list of qualities and mark each one.”

“Both of us?”

“Why not? Easier for you.”

“You done this before?”

I grinned, “Unofficially. I helped my boss a couple of times, to speed things up. Not for anyone I’d be working with directly.”

“OK”, he smiled.

“Back to the list. Need to check out what’s available to rent.”

“And where. Location is important.”

We continued a bit longer, then I smiled, “Last point, order a shed.”

He rolled his eyes, but smiled back and made a note on his list.