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A Change of Course

by Cornelia 

Posted: 20 June 2012
Word Count: 2055
Summary: Intended to be a womag story


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How would Carol cope with a drastic change from the city life she knew?

‘Fresh air, beautiful countryside and loads of extra space; the children will love it,’ said Mike, when they discussed the move to Nettleby. That part was certainly true.

The house they found cost a fraction of their South London flat and even had a garden - overgrown maybe, but they’d get to grips with it in time. At first, high Lincolnshire skies and green fields were too enticing for them to spend weekends at home.

Mike settled into his new admin job in Nettleby College. As predicted, Gemma, six, and Sam, four and a half, revelled in the extra play space of their own rooms.

The week’s highlight was the Wednesday livestock market: fenland sheep, cows and pigs jostled in pens at the end of the High Street and a red-faced auctioneer struggled to be heard above the bleats and bellows. While Carol held a handkerchief to her nose, Sam and Gemma, unfazed by the pungent odours, clamoured to be lifted onto the pen rails. They joined in the chorus of ear-splitting squeals as piglets were urged down ramps by burly farmers carrying sections of wooden fence.

But there were days when Carol felt like squealing, too. She missed the bustle of London, the mother and toddler groups, the big stores and the free events laid on for tourists. Mostly she missed the friends she’d left behind when she came to live in Nettleby.

Her encounters with the college wives didn’t help: ‘At home with the children, you say? Don’t you wish you were doing something more … useful?’

This was a typical response at the few college socials she’d been to. Her descriptions of outings to ‘bracing’ Skegness or of carving pumpkins and dressing up at Halloween met with polite murmurs and blank expressions.

‘Give it time,’ said Mike. Carol enjoyed the children, but missed adult company, and looked forward to the time when Sam joined Gemma at school. Jobs in Nettleby were scarce, but she'd find something.

Mostly she missed chatting with other mums. All the women with children seemed to live on the estate on the other side of town; her own neighbourhood was full of people who were either out at work or retired.

So when she saw a woman of her own age in a bright yellow T-shirt on a bench near the swings she hurried over. A small boy was kicking a ball nearby.

As she approached, Carol heard sobbing. She sat down on the bench. Bracelets jangling, the woman took the tissue Carol held out and introduced herself as Kim. The small boy was Ben, her four year old son.

While Sam and Gemma played with Ben, Kim poured out her tale of woe.

Clothes apart, Kim’s London accent marked her out as a newcomer .

Kim was not in Nettleby by choice, Carol soon discovered. ‘When my Pete lost his job, he thought it best we come here,’ she explained, dabbing at rivulets of mascara, ‘back to his home town. He said it’s only till we get back on our feet.'

When Carol asked why she was so upset she replied, ‘We moved in with his mother. She never liked me - thinks he should have settled with a local girl, instead of moving to the ‘Smoke.’’

A park-keeper young enough to be on work experience was slowly sweeping leaves into a pile and catching an eyeful of Kim’s miniskirt and five inch heels.

‘One of his old mates fixed him up with a driving job and he’s getting back into the competitions. ’ Kim rummaged in a handbag with a gold chain handle then held out a photo of a young man with a well-muscled torso wearing only a skimpy vest and shorts. He was smiling and held aloft a huge silver cup.

‘This is my Pete: Mr Medway Towns. Gorgeous isn’t he?’ Kim smiled for the first time since the conversation began.

Carol nodded. ‘Shame he doesn’t stand up to his mother.’

‘Oh, don’t get me wrong. He loves me and Ben to bits, but his mother doesn’t stop. It’s, 'Pete likes this,' and, 'Pete doesn’t like that'...’

She began to cry again.

‘Gemma, Sam, not too near the gate, Carol warned, as the children shrieked.

Kim blew her nose. ‘She won’t even let me in the kitchen. She says I’m a rotten cook. ‘So what?’ I said to her. ‘He didn’t marry me for my cooking!’

Then, to Carol's surprise, Kim chuckled, kicked off her shoes and grabbed her arm. She pulled Carol over to a heavy roundabout the children were struggling to push. Kim lifted them one by one onto the platform, gave a terrific shove to the bar and then jumped on herself.

‘Come on, Carol. This is fun.’

Soon they met nearly every day at the park. Carol no longer missed her old London friends now that she had a new one.

Kim’s complaints usually began: ‘Do you know what she said yesterday?’ After pouring out her feelings, Kim always cheered up. Sometimes she’d report on the competitions Pete entered and on his search for a better job.

Then Carol found a way to help her new friend. As she leafed through a college prospectus Mike had brought home, she spotted:

Gourmet French Cooking.
Add some ‘ooh la la’ to your meals!
(Suitable for beginners)


Just the thing for Kim, she decided.

‘You must be joking! Can you see me in an apron and hairnet? ’ Kim laughed when she read the blurb. ‘Besides, it’ll ruin my nails.’

‘I’ll look after Ben for the afternoon and collect you in the car. Mike works at home on Thursdays, so it works out perfect.’ Kim still looked doubtful, but when Carol said it would prove Pete’s mother was wrong, she gave a wicked smile and agreed.

And, at the start, it all seemed to go smoothly. ‘Pete loved the Boeuf Bourgignon,’ Kim reported, after the first week. ‘He complimented me on the tasty beef stew.’

In a few weeks Pete was insisting that his mother let Kim cook his dinners.

It had its spin-off for Carol, too. Kim was happy to share her new cooking tips. ‘It’s Saucisse de Toulouse,’ she informed Mike, when he asked why his sausages came with apple rings as well as the usual cabbage. ‘Kim learned the recipe at the college last week.’

Carol was disappointed when the rate of new recipes slowed down, although Kim seemed as keen as ever and never missed a class.

‘Didn’t you do Mille Feuille pastry in January?’ Carol asked her friend at Easter, but Kim just muttered something about revision.

It was a late afternoon in May when it all changed. Carol heard the usual six o’clock sounds: the car door’s heavy click, a key scraping in the front door and the dull thud of a briefcase in the hall.

But no sooner had Mike shouted ‘I’m home, Carol, and I’ve got something to tell you…’ than there was a frantic knocking and the sound of the door being re-opened. An angry voice called out, and she heard Mike reply:‘What do you mean, you’re going to sort me out?’

Carol rushed downstairs and out onto the path, to stand beside her husband. A burly man, whose biceps strained his shirt sleeves, stood glaring at Mike.

‘Calm down, please, Pete. What seems to be the problem?'Both men looked stunned that she knew the stranger’s name.

When she realised the danger of fisticuffs was past, Carol stepped back into the hall. Thank goodness the children were watching a video upstairs, so hadn’t heard the raised voices.

‘Come inside, both of you. Whatever it is, we can sort it out.’

In the sitting room Mike turned angrily to the man he now knew was called Pete. ‘What makes you think you can come round here shouting?’

Pete scowled back at Mike. ‘A mate of mine does maintenance at the college and saw my wife in the back field with a man. She got into a car later and he wrote down the number plate. That’s why I waited in the car park today and followed you home. So how do you explain ?’

‘Pete, it’s me who gives Kim a lift home from her cookery class,’ Carol blurted out. ‘Mike stays and looks after the kids while I collect her. Besides, she loves you. She’d never do anything to risk your marriage.’

Then she slapped her forehead with one hand. ‘I think I know what’s happened. The man your pal saw with Kim was the cookery teacher! She told me every student on the course has a seminar on herbs in the college garden, so they’ll learn to recognise them. It must have been her turn.’

Pete’s expression softened and he drew in a deep breath. He lowered his gaze to the carpet, his big hands hanging at his sides. He was quite a nice man when he wasn’t angry.

‘He turned to Mike. ‘I’m really sorry, mate. It hasn’t been easy for her, living with Mum. That’s why…’ Mike nodded and muttered there was no harm done.

As Pete turned to go, there was another knock at the door, and the children shouted from upstairs.

‘Ben! It’s Ben!’ The video ended, they’d looked out of the window.

Kim stood on the doorstep with Ben. Ben rushed inside, leaving her waving an already-opened letter.

Kim managed to make herself heard above the children’s excited greetings. ‘Carol, I had to talk to someone; I couldn’t wait for Pete to come home!’
Her eyes widened as Pete came out of the sitting room. ‘I’ll explain later,’ Carol said.

‘I couldn't resist opening a letter with an American stamp on it!' Kim handed the envelope to Pete and hopped from foot to foot as he read it. Then he grabbed Kim by the shoulders, kissed her, and they both did a little dance. When they’d finished, Kim turned to Carol.

‘I came to tell you we’re moving to Las Vegas! Pete’s been offered his dream job in a casino – show competitions, with some shifts as a bouncer.’ Her ear-rings jingled. ‘Great, isn’t it?' As if already there, she added, ' Be sure y'all come out an'visit, now.’

‘Fantastic! This calls for a drink!’ Mike said. Carol pulled Kim into the kitchen, opened the fridge and spoke in a whisper.

‘Pete’s here because you were seen in the college back field with a man.’ Carol cut short Kim’s giggles by gripping her arm more tightly. ‘I had to come up with a story quick. Who was he?’

‘Honestly, Carol!' Kim looked indignant. 'The college let me change to an athletics course when I’d had enough of cooking, so that would have been the coach.’ She looked away, then muttered, ’Sorry, Carol. I didn't mention it because I didn’t want to let you down.'

‘That reminds me,’ Mike said later, as they raised glasses in the living room and the children blew bubbles into their orange juice. ‘I have some good news, too. It slipped my mind in all the kerfuffle.’ He looked at Carol.

‘The Principal has just received the go-ahead for a crčche at the college, starting in September. Janet Green, one of the college wives will run it, but she needs an assistant. Guess who has first refusal?’

As Carol gasped with surprise, he added, ‘Seems you impressed Janet with your enthusiasm and she told the Principal you'd be ideal. You can train on the job and Sam will be in school by then. If you want the position, that is.’

Kim hugged Carol so hard she almost dropped her glass.

‘Shame you had to stop the cookery lessons, though,’ said Carol.

Kim burst out laughing. ‘The Las Vegas job comes with free buffet meals in the casino. So I can forget about cooking.’ She hugged Carol again. 'I'll miss you, though.'

'Yes, it's a good thing we had each other,'said Carol. 'Now it looks as if our lonely days are over.'

Mike put his arm round Carol and kissed her. ‘And with Carol earning we’ll definitely be able to afford the trip! Maybe even fit in a few days at Disneyland’

The children squealed louder than piglets on Market day.






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Comments by other Members



Katerina at 17:41 on 20 June 2012  Report this post
Sheila this is better, it's much more sequential and flows well now and isn't as confusing with all the different names and sections.

The only comment I'd now make is to see if you can get the word count down a bit more.

Well done, you've obviously worked hard on this!

What plans do you have for it?

Kat x

Cornelia at 20:47 on 20 June 2012  Report this post
Thanks, Kat. Yes, I need to get the word count down to 2,000, I think, as I seem to remember some magazines stipulate either 1,000 or 2,000. That should be possible.

I haven't much idea where to send it. I originally shortened it down to 1,000 with TWN in mind, but it needed expanding. I can try to make a shorter version by paring it back to the misunderstanding and cut out all the backstories, or I can try to find a home elsewhere.

I noticed Geraldine Ryan had a lengthy tale in the TABFF I bought - they gloomy issue I told you about, but I assume that's because she's a regular, experienced contributor. Besides, that's another downer, as well. My story's too cheerful, I think. I'll check out some other womags.

Meantime I have hopes for the swimming baths one - much simpler.

Sheila

<Added>

Leisure Centre, I mean


Katerina at 22:22 on 20 June 2012  Report this post
Look forward to reading it Sheila


fluffyduffy at 10:01 on 21 June 2012  Report this post
This is better, Sheila. It runs a lot smoother Well done!

Yes, I would agree about shortening it a little - 2,000 words is a good amount, I'd say.

Good luck with this

Alana x

Bald Man at 10:22 on 21 June 2012  Report this post
Hi Sheila

It's the first time I have read this. It's interesting, with good characterisation, and picks up on the insularity and loneliness of small towns for 'outsiders'.

I wasn't quite sure though, what Pete did. You wrote he had found work in

"...show competitions, with some shifts as a bouncer."

And he was 'Mr Medway Towns'.


I imagined him as a weight-lifter, or as a macho male model who competes in big hunk contests. Is that right? You might want to clarify what type of competitions he goes in for.

<Added>

P.s.

I forgot to say that I felt that Kim's change of mood in the park was rather too sudden and accountable - maybe she could explain it herself, e.g. she's delighted to have found another London accent/Londoner.

<Added>

cor blimey, I'll get this right if it kills me: I mean 'unaccountable'!

Cornelia at 11:54 on 21 June 2012  Report this post
Thanks, Alana, for your comments. I thought people might pick up on him being a weight-lifter from the photo him holding the cup and his title . I always forget how very explicit these womag stories need to be.

Kim's mood changes when she remembers the smart remark she gave to her mother in law and the fact that Pete really is keen on her. Again, I'll try tto make it clearer.

Part of the problem with this is it's an old story rehashed and there's too much going on. I'm going to write a simpler version as well.

Thanks again.

Sheila

Cornelia at 12:05 on 21 June 2012  Report this post
Sorry, Colin, I may have given the impression that I thought Alana made these helpful comments about the job and the characterisation.

Yes, that town could have won cups for insularity. It was a long time ago that I lived there - thankfully, only for three years. I expect things have changed now, with today's media-wrought 'global village' mindset.

I worked with someone in London once who was married to a 'Mr Medway Towns'. I assumed everybody else would know he was a weight-lifter. It's the problem of being too close to the subject. Thanks for pointing it out.

Sheila


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