Summer Break by Vivien Teasdale

 

First day of the school holidays. Bliss, thought Jacqui. The sun was shining, birds sang and she sunbathed, with not a care in the world. It lasted at least twenty minutes.

The sudden, prolonged jarring from the front doorbell startled her and she tried to leap to her feet, rocking the deckchair. She was tipped unceremoniously onto the grass. Rex, her lovable Labrador joined in the fun, racing to find a toy to bring her, skidded on Tracy’s skates and crashed into the rockery.

His howls and screams cut into the quiet of the summer day, reaching a crescendo as Jacqui tried to pick him up.

‘What are you doing to that dog?’ Mrs Frazer demanded, from the other side of the fence.

‘Skinning him!’ Jacqui snapped, trying desperately to sooth the frightened animal.

***

‘What a lovely dog.’ The vet was new, young, with a starched, washing-powder-white coat. ‘Let me have a look, lad.’ He patted Rex, who gazed back soulfully, whimpering quietly.

‘I like Labradors. My parents always had them. They’ve such gentle mouths they can pick up eggs without breaking them, you know.’

Carefully he ran his hands down Rex’s leg. The next moment howls of anguish rent the air. Spots of bright red blood splashed onto his virgin coat and he held up his hand, whimpering for sympathy. Rex glared at him.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, he’s never bitten anyone before,’ Belatedly, Jacqui clutched Rex more firmly.

Twenty-four hours later, she collected a very sorry-looking pet, his leg encased in a pretty pink plaster.

***

‘Oh, Mum, he wants to go behind the settee, poor thing.’ Tracy called as she carefully arranged her hair in suitably ruffled spikes and tangles.

And so, Jacqui moved the coffee table out of the way, put the plants in front of the book case, pulled the settee away from the wall and dragged the large dog bed behind it.

Rex mournfully dragged himself across the room and very gently lowered himself to the floor in front of the fire.

***

‘Must dash, Mum, going to the pictures,’ Tracy said as her fiancé, Andy, revved up his motorbike outside. ‘See you about 11ish.’

Jacqui watched them go. She wasn’t too happy about that motorbike. She wasn’t too happy about Tracy getting engaged at eighteen either, even though Andy Braden was a nice enough lad.

She glanced at the clock. Seven pm. Bill wouldn’t be home till at least eleven either. The badminton crowd usually ended up in the pub after a game.

She settled down to concentrate on the Fair Isle pattern of her waistcoat, strands of wool spread out like a spider’s web around her.

Halfway through row twenty, the phone interrupted her thoughts.

‘This is Sister Taylor, Accident Ward at the Infirmary. I’m afraid your husband’s had a bit of a fall at badminton. Nothing too serious, just a fractured fibula. He’s already got the pot on so could you come and collect him, please?’

Jacqui dashed to get her coat and car keys. Hurrying to the garage, she remembered Rex and dashed back to load the settee with books, radio, knitting bag, anything to stop him trying to climb on to it. Then she set off for the garage again.

Just as she’d reversed to the end of the drive, she remembered the stairs. Back she ran, expecting to see Rex sprawled out in agony at the bottom after trying to get up to the bedroom.

Rex was sprawled out peacefully in front of the fire, hoping she would turn it on. Jacqui blocked the stairs with the coffee table and made a mental note to find something better soon. She set off once more for the hospital.

***

‘Could I have a cup of tea, love?’ Bill called down from their bedroom, just as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Jacqui duly complied.

Lunch brought the complaint of ‘Oh, you forgot to put mint sauce on the lamb!’

Dinner was interrupted with the yell of ‘My knife’s fallen on the floor and I can’t reach it. Jacqui, could you just...’

At 2 am, it was ‘Sweetheart, I’m sorry, but I just can’t sleep. You couldn’t just make me a cup of Horlicks, could you?’

***

A few evenings later, Jacqui sat in front of the TV and heaved a sigh of relief. Bill was asleep. Rex dozed, yapping and growling as he dreamt of rabbits, Tracy was enjoying the evening out with Andy. She put her feet up and relaxed.

The front door was flung open, then slammed shut. Feet ran upstairs, accompanied by a long, drawn out wail from Tracy.

Jacqui closed her eyes, counted to ten, then went in pursuit of her daughter, who, by this time, was weeping copiously over her new duvet cover.

‘I hate him!’ she sobbed. ‘I hate him. That dratted bike. I hate it. I hate him. I hate men.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Jacquie replied.

‘I hate him. Men are inconsiderate, selfish, stupid...’Tracy sniffed, glaring at her mother. ‘I hate them. I hate the way they look, I hate the way...’

‘Yes, dear, I get the picture. What’s happened?’ She sat down on the bed, putting an arm around the distraught girl.

‘I wanted to go to the pictures tonight and he knew it. So he goes and says he’s off to a motorcross race. Men! I hate them. I hate...’

‘Well, tomorrow it’ll all seem different. Come down and have a cup of tea’ Jacqui stood up.

‘Shan’t see him tomorrow. Or the next day. Or ever. I’ve given him back his silly ring. I’m going to join the army, like I said I would before.’ Tracy flung herself back onto the pillow and howled.

From downstairs came a cry for help as Rex suddenly realised it was two hours past his evening walk time. Jacqui rushed downstairs, flinging open the back door and ushering him into the garden just in time.

***

The next day was Friday. Jacqui always shopped on a Friday, early, before the crowds started. She was also less likely to meet people who wanted to chat or parents of her pupils who always assumed that she was happy to give up an hour of her holiday to provide an immediate in-depth report on their child.

‘Anything you want from the supermarket?’ she asked Bill.

‘Ooh, you’d better fetch some plasters for my heel. All this walking up and down’s given me a nasty blister. I’m not sure all this exercising is good for me.’

‘That’s what the doctor ordered, that’s what you do.’ She turned to Tracy. ‘Would you like to come with me?’

‘Not today, Mum. I don’t feel like going out. I don’t feel like doing anything,’ her daughter replied, sighing as she curled up on the settee with a magazine.

Jacqui rested her shopping list on top of the bags as she pushed the trolley down the first aisle, collecting potatoes, cauliflower and carrots.

‘Hello, Mrs Frazer,’ she said, unable to dodge her neighbour as they both reached for the green beans together.

‘How’s that poor dog of yours?’ Mrs Frazer asked, glaring back.

‘Oh, he’s limping nicely, thank you.’

‘Hm, none of my dogs ever broke their legs.’ Mrs Frazer stalked off, still presumably convinced that the accident had been due to Jacqui’s negligence.

Unfortunately, Andy’s mum was at the checkout. She stared haughtily as Jacqui began to unload her trolley.

‘Always said young girl’s were too flighty to get engaged,’ commented Mrs Braden. ‘You shouldn’t have allowed it.’ She turned to pay her bill and walked away, giving Jacqui no chance to retaliate.

Bill’s friend, Frank, met her in the doorway as she left. ‘Sorry about Bill’s accident. We miss him. Me and a few of the lads, we’ll come round and visit one night. Bring a few beers. Cheer him up.’

***

Jacqui smiled half-heartedly and drove home muttering to herself about friends and neighbours, while she planned the holiday she intended to take before beginning of next term. A holiday completely by herself.

"Labrador 'Tessi'_0839_w" by Aureusbay is licensed under CC BY-NC 2.0.