Читать книгу Getting Organised - Carolyn Caterer - Страница 3

Abigail Morrison had never been an organised person. This revelation had occurred early in her life courtesy of her paternal grandmother, who had testily informed her (on her sixth birthday) that her dolls’ house demonstrated all the signs of being owned by a person with a disorganised mind ‘and we all know that these people never amount to much.’

Little surprise therefore that Abigail took this as Gospel, so afraid was she of her Grandmother, and went on to score average marks in her ‘O’ Levels thereby ensuring a place on a secretarial course rather than go on to her ‘A’ Levels and University, of which she was more than capable. She spent her early twenties in a series of uninspiring jobs until she met her new boss David Simpson who, intrigued by both her innocence and malleability, bedded and wedded her (in that order), before she had time to offer much in the form of protest.

Ten years later, she was somewhat bored with married life, frustrated that David had never shown any desire with regard to starting a family and, when pushed, said he had no interest in children whatsoever and hadn’t he made that clear when he married her?

Not being one to doubt the testimony of her superiors, she concurred with this and carried on the drudge of her daily life as her brain seemed to atrophy in a way that tends to happen in women whose whole existence is centred on their selfish husbands. Meanwhile, her life continued in an endless orbit of WI meetings, ladies’ lunches and work dinners.

On her thirty fifth birthday, just as she wondered if things could get any worse, they promptly did when David announced he was leaving her for his secretary (how predictable) who was pregnant with his child; probably the first time in his life he had done anything to surprise her.

At this point you would imagine that Abigail would have been finally spurred out of her complacency and sue him for every penny she could in the divorce court, but David managed to persuade her that discretion would be a preferable option, given the circumstances and the potential damage to his reputation. Consequently she agreed a settlement that, despite his insistence he was putting her needs first, felt as if she was being somewhat short-changed.

The amount of money she was left with made it impossible to continue living in the favoured commuting town which formed part of north Surrey, and so she moved out back towards her old haunts in Hampshire and found a small cottage which suited her nicely. She had an average size house with an above average size garden that had evidently seen better days. She spent the first few weeks in her new home decorating it from top to toe and stamping her character on it; pleased not to have to get approval from anyone when she painted the bathroom a beautiful shade of turquoise and one wall of her bedroom in purple.

Abigail was already proud of what she had managed to achieve in her new life; one that was so different from her old life that it was barely recognisable, but she felt that something was missing. She couldn’t put her finger on it but she knew that it was there, lurking in the recesses of her mind and telling her that she wasn’t good enough. Her own personal gremlin bounced around in her head at the most inopportune moments, mainly when she was feeling particularly pleased with herself and, it had the voice of her Grandmother, which didn’t come as much of a surprise to her given her upbringing.

Abigail often wondered what drove her Grandmother to being the kind of woman she was; maybe it was living through the war or losing her fiancé and perhaps having to marry out of necessity from a pool of men that was particularly small following the loss of so many lives in just six years. Abigail had never known her Grandfather, owing to the fact that he was twenty-five years older than her Grandmother and had died when Abigail’s mother was only fourteen years of age. This meant that her schooling was interrupted by the immediate need for her to go out and earn a living to support herself and Abigail’s Grandmother in the days before a welfare state had been introduced. Mrs Whitemead was a proud woman and had never expected to do a days work in her life once she was married, but the war had seen her learning skills she had never imagined would be needed, but which enabled her to take over the running of the grocery shop that had been owned by her husband and to offer her only child a job where she could keep an eye on her.

However, it turned out that Mrs Whitemead needed eyes in the back of her head to keep track of Anastasia’s flirting with the young men that came into the shop on errands for their own mothers. Anastasia was the kind of girl who was attractive to men simply because of her naivety about her attractiveness. This lack of self-awareness made her an easy catch, or so they thought. Mrs Whitemead was therefore more than a little surprised that Anastasia married the owner of the shoe shop just a short walk up the street. Whilst Eric Morrison may have been a man with a steady job and the makings of an excellent and loyal husband, he was not an ambitious man and Mrs Whitemead viewed this as a particularly serious fault. However as the nineteen sixties turned out to be the decade of free love and an era where far too much flesh was easily exposed, Mrs Whitemead had to acknowledge that Eric was perhaps an acceptable choice after all.

Anastasia meanwhile saw Eric as her passport to leaving a home dominated by the views and demands of one woman, namely her overbearing mother, and she had chosen Eric simply because he offered her a quiet and undemanding existence, which was something she had craved her entire life.

Anastasia had also hoped that her marriage to Eric would shield her from the domineering personality of her mother, but Mrs Whitemead was having none of it and had made it her business to comment on all aspects of Anastasia’s existence. Even the birth of Abigail, which could have been the perfect catalyst for a more harmonious relationship between the two women, failed to unite them into a closer relationship than one based on cautious civility by Anastasia, and self-importance from her mother. Anastasia seemed to shrink in the presence of her mother and bow to all her demands. Thus it wasn’t surprising that Mrs Whitemead was to have such a profound impact on the life of her only grandchild.

It was more surprising that a woman who had led a life of hard work and independence, not enjoyed by generations of women before her, could prove to be such a formidable obstacle in terms of Abigail’s self-esteem and happiness. From a very early age she learnt that her grandmother was a woman not to be argued or reasoned with and that her word was the last word. With her own mother unable or unwilling to set an example to Abigail, she soon fell into the familiar pattern of deferment that had dominated Anastasia’s life.

While it may have been in Abigail’s ability to rebel and forge her own way in life, it had never even occurred to her that this was an option. Instead she meekly followed her mother’s example and remained largely out of view, as to be noticed was usually an invitation for a big dose of criticism from her grandmother, which was seemingly impossible to avoid.

So it wasn’t surprising that, with a lack of a role model from her mother, a father who spent most of his time in his shop, (having never quite understood what exactly he was supposed to do with a daughter who wasn’t interested in football or cricket) and stayed in the background as a mildly interesting presence in her life, Abigail looked to her grandmother as the person to whom she had to answer in all matters of her life.

Mrs Whitemead of course made it absolutely clear that Abigail was a disappointment in every single aspect. She was neither pretty enough to marry well (remember Mrs Whitemead was a child of the twenties) nor intelligent enough to be an independent and successful businesswoman. She had of course decided this long before Abigail had even started school. Thus the seeds were sown in Abigail’s mind, from a very early age, that she wasn’t going to amount to much. With this constant drip-feeding of disappointment and low expectations, Abigail was hardly going to excel in any area of her life except one; she fulfilled Mrs Whitemead’s predictions that she would never be successful enough to get into university and would instead be suited merely for the most basic tasks of being a secretary, due to her lack of organisation. Hence Abigail’s enrolment at secretarial college and her subsequent low level roles in a number of small companies, came as no surprise to her grandmother. Despite this inauspicious start, one day she was thrown into the path of her future husband and David Simpson became the dominant force in her life

No wonder Mrs Whitemead thought that David was the perfect catch and he far exceeded any expectations that she could have had for Abigail in the marriage department. Most people would have realised by now that Mrs Whitemead was the worst form of snob, but of course Abigail had the disadvantage of never having a paternal grandmother with whom to compare her, due to her Father’s parents having died before she was born. With a naivety that would astound people today, she took her life to be pretty normal and her grandmother to be typical for her generation.

It came as no surprise therefore when, ten years after they had married and it all fell apart, Mrs Whitemead was the first to blame Abigail for not being the perfect wife and her inability to keep her husband happy. She had no doubt that David was completely blameless and that Abigail had failed in her one task as a wife; to run a happy and contented home which he would be happy to return to every night, rather than find his comfort in the arms of another woman.

Abigail had decided that there was no point in telling her grandmother that David had turned out to be a far from perfect husband, with a number of unsavoury habits, and had rapidly turned into the most boring person she could ever have chosen to marry. It was David who had insisted they spent most nights at home, unless there was an important work function or golf club dinner to attend. He always claimed that he worked hard enough during the week and needed to relax and take it easy at the weekend, but Abigail was sure that in reality he had so little imagination that, when faced with a life outside of work, he had simply no idea as to how to entertain himself other than to conform to the corporate stereotype by taking up golf as a way to further his career. His lack of imagination also extended to the bedroom; as a stay at home wife Abigail had plenty of time to read up on the latest sexual techniques listed in the magazines presented to her at the hairdresser’s and was more than happy to try out a few new manoeuvres herself, but David, when presented with these new options, physically recoiled in such a way that demonstrated he thought she was quite the pervert and ensured that their intermittent sex life dwindled even further.

If he thought this was a way of punishing her then he was sadly mistaken; Abigail knew that there was more to married life than she was experiencing and she wasn’t going to give up lightly. However before she could do anything more or even begin to think of marriage guidance, David delivered the final blow to their relationship and exited with his pregnant mistress. Not before he had persuaded her that it would be a good idea, following their divorce, to revert to her maiden name so as to cause her less distress at the memory of their union.

On this, Abigail was happy to oblige as a new start would not be as exciting with the baggage of her married surname and she threw it away with barely a second glance.

In fact her divorce was probably the most liberating and exciting thing to have happened in her life so far and she was ready to embrace this new chapter with open arms. The move to Hampshire, where no one knew her, so wouldn’t have any preconceptions, seemed to be the perfect way to start her new life and she was full of enthusiasm and hope, though what she was going to do with herself once she got there was a rather terrifying thought.

She had never lived on her own before or made her own decisions without them being criticised either by her husband or her grandmother. This new start was like the scariest roller-coaster ride in the world, but she was determined that she was going to do everything she could to enjoy it.