Going Up and Going Down (7 page)

I took a week’s
holiday from work just before I was about to sit my final exams. I knew I would
have the house to myself during the day and it would be peaceful for my final
round of studying. Dad was very busy at work and Mum was out most days doing
more voluntary work than she could really cope with. I studied hard and for
long hours. I concentrated mainly on the elements where I knew my weaknesses
lay. I read, re-read, made a list of the key points and then focused on letting
them sink in. By the Wednesday night I felt like my head was in overload and I
was in need of some time out. I told my parents I would be taking some time off
on the Thursday. My father asked if I would like to visit his office for a few
hours to check out some new design software package that had recently been
installed on all their computers. He was particularly excited about it and as I
hadn’t been to his office for years he thought it would make a pleasant change
for me. I agreed to a visit just to keep him happy and told him I would be
there for 11am.

As I’d pulled
into the car park and parked my Mazda, I was aware that I was being watched and
not just from one window. Dad had obviously made all his staff aware of my
visit and they were all waiting to catch a glimpse of the boss’s daughter -
most of them for the first time. I was disappointed to find that only two of
his original staff remained - Dorothy, his aging secretary and Graham, the
financial controller who was also heading towards his sixties.  To bring me up
to speed Dad gave me a guided tour of the office. So much had changed since my
last visit (which had been before I went off to Uni) and he introduced me to
all the staff that I didn’t know en route. Fifteen minutes later and once we
had sat down in his office, Dorothy provided us with coffee and biscuits and
Dad gave me a demo of the new software as promised – it was way over my head
but I tried to show an interest. He was expecting Anthony, a staff member, back
from a business meeting around 12.30pm, and as they would be going out for a
spot of lunch Dad invited me to go along too, or I should really say he
insisted.

Anthony had
been a new recruit just before Dad had his heart attack and five years on he
was the marketing director - and Dad’s right hand man. It was 12.15pm when he
knocked on the office door and stuck his head around realising that it wasn’t
closed properly,

“Is it okay for
me to come in, Ken?” he spotted me sipping at my coffee and winked “I can come
back if…” Ginger hair and green eyes. Definitely not my type!

“Come in, Tony,
yes.”

I did a quick
appraisal as he came towards me to shake hands – smartly dressed, nothing
spectacular but certainly not unattractive. I detected a hint of cockiness
about him.

“Let me
introduce you both – this is my daughter Helen…Helen, this is, Tony Pawson.” He
shook my hand firmly (too confidently in my opinion) and smiled.

“Pleased to
meet you, Helen. I’ve heard so much…your father never stops…” he nodded as Dad
cut in,

“Of course I
don’t stop, Tony. I’m a doting Dad.” he chuckled as Tony still kept hold of my
hand.

“Glad to meet
you too Anthony,” I uttered, easing my hand away, “though I can honestly say
that Dad hasn’t spoken of you much. Probably because Mum doesn’t like him
talking about work at home – she blames it for his heart attack.” and I gave
Dad a quick wink.

“Helen’s
joining us for lunch – shall we get going?” I had a feeling I was going to
regret coming to Dad’s office and joining them for lunch.

Thirty minutes
later at their favourite gastro pub, with lunch ordered and a gin and tonic in
hand, we sat down at a table situated in a large bay window. Whether he’d
wanted to hear it or not, Dad gave Anthony a detailed biography of my life
since birth. There were a few cringe-worthy moments for me but Anthony was
clearly enthralled and smiled across at me from time to time when Dad paused in
his story-telling for a few seconds.

Anthony had
requested our first order of drinks be put on the bill so I wondered what on
earth Dad was doing getting up to go to the bar for drinks when the waitress
would soon be bringing the food – he could have ordered direct from her when
the food was served. He wasn’t being my idea of subtle! Even Anthony was amused
as he made a comment,

“I think he’s
giving us some time together, Helen. Don’t be surprised if when the barman has
put the drinks on the bar, Ken will pay a visit to the toilet – to give us even
more time alone.”

It struck me
how well he seemed to know my father. Either that or they’d gone through this
before. Maybe Dad had tried fixing Anthony up before, in a similar way. It made
my suspicious.

“Okay, I say
let’s play him at his own game. You start staring around in the opposite direction
to me, I’ll start searching through my handbag or sending a text - no talking,
let’s make it look awkward.”

Sure enough,
just as Anthony predicted, we watched as Dad made his way from the bar and over
towards the corridor where the toilets were situated. We had a very brief
conversation about how my studies were progressing and he asked if I had any
long term plans for my future. He also enquired as to whether I intended to
stay at the Hopkins Partnership or search for pastures new. That was where the conversation
came to an abrupt end as Anthony, with a better view of the toilet door,
mouthed

“He’s on his
way.” I quickly grabbed my handbag and started shuffling through it, making a
determined effort to look stony faced. I chanced a quick glance at Anthony, who
was doing a sterling job of looking disinterested.

I couldn’t
resist commenting once Dad was back at our table,

“Dad, didn’t
you go to the bar to get drinks? You’ve come back without them.”

“What? Oh…I’ll
go….”he stammered “I thought you two would be busy getting to know one
another?”

Anthony’s turn
next, “Ken, we…um…well…I’m not sure that Helen’s sufficiently enamoured with
me. I seem to be…boring her.”

It was
hilarious - watching Dad’s face as he stood open-mouthed, looking in disbelief
first at Anthony, then back and forth between us both. A quick look at Anthony
confirmed that he was struggling to stifle the laugh that was trying hard to
fight its way out. Only seconds separated the guffaws that escaped from us both
a minute later and Dad’s expression remained one of disbelief, still
open-mouthed trying to understand what the big joke was.

“What’s…what is
this? What’s so hilarious?” he pleaded, trying to understand. The waitresses
were approaching with our order.

“Sit down, Dad,
we’ll explain while we eat.”

“We know what
you’re trying to do, Ken – to act like you’re a dating agency. We might not
like each other. Did you consider that?” asked Anthony. Dad emphatically denied
the accusation and tried to convince us both, and perhaps himself, that his
invitation for me to come to his office was strictly to offer a change of
scenery and routine – a break from studying and home.

“So why the
dinner invite?” I demanded “Surely after Anthony’s business meeting this
morning you have things to discuss. You didn’t need to ask me to come along.” His
lips were moving, and I could tell that he was racking his brain for some
excuse and he finally managed,

“How often do I
get the chance to take my daughter for lunch?  Tony and I can talk later -
after you’ve gone home.”

The lunch was
excellent and I understand why they used the place whenever they entertained
clients. I had to admit it to myself that it had been a pleasant change. I’d
secretly enjoyed Anthony’s attention and made a mental note to call into Dad’s
office a little more often in future.

As we drove
back I told Dad that I would just get back in my car and drive home. I sensed a
note of disappointment in his voice so I explained that I needed to make a few
phone calls. Once we were back at the office car park, they walked me over to
the car. After a few more pleasantries Anthony shook my hand, said it had been
a pleasure, and as Dad had started to walk away he lowered his voice and asked
me out to dinner that coming Saturday night. I hadn’t envisaged being asked out
that soon. I was delighted but I had to warn him,

“Do me a
favour, don’t tell Dad – don’t give him the satisfaction please. I couldn’t
bear to see the smugger than smug look on his face for the whole of next week
and beyond.” He laughed

“Okay, you have
my word, Helen.” I joined in with his laughter and somehow we managed to
arrange a time and place to meet, rather rapidly, so as not to give Dad any
satisfaction (or hope) from any lengthy goodbyes on our part.

I couldn’t
believe how fast the time was passing, probably due to all the studying I’d
been doing. I had been dating Anthony for almost six months -
still
without my parents’ knowledge. I was a certified chartered accountant at last
and the news came as a bigger relief to my parents than to me. They were proud
and loved boasting to family and friends. I got the impression that they saw my
achievement as a sign of normality - like you have to be normal to pass exams?

My dates with
Anthony had been
just
that, dates only – trips to the cinema, meals out,
a drive out into the country, and ‘Phantom of the Opera’ at Her Majesty’s. I
had refused to get further involved. I had stressed to him that I didn’t need
any involvement whilst my final days of studying, and the exams, were first and
foremost in my mind. No emotional issues, no sexual relationship or anything
else that bore the potential to create complications.

With exams well
and truly out of the way and qualifications under my belt, Anthony was pushing
a little more each week to make our relationship public. More than anything I
think he was desperate for my father to know, and to take it to the next level,
which I understood to mean he wanted our relationship to become physical.

“So what are we
going to do then,” he asked, “about telling your parents? Do I casually mention
at the office that we have been seeing each other? Or should we do it together
- go back to your parents’ house one night and just tell them?” I hadn’t
expected him to push the issue this soon, so I hadn’t even considered the
question of telling my parents. I supposed I would have to meet Anthony’s
parents as well at some stage.

“Let me give it
some thought for a while, Anthony.”

“Whatever you
decide to do I am happy to go along with it, Helen. I just think it’s time they
knew.”

He was right of
course and I felt a little embarrassed at having been so secretive where
parents were concerned.  The conversation turned to other things as we dined
that evening but by the time we left the restaurant I had made my decision.

“I’m telling my
parents tonight when I get home. It will be better coming from me.”

“Okay! What do
you think your Dad will say?” he was eager to know.

“Not much! He
was trying to get us together anyway so what could he possibly say?”

Two hours later
I got my answer. My parents were happy, especially Dad. He hadn’t even been
that shocked to learn how long we had been seeing each other. He’d thought it
was more than a coincidence that Anthony’s mood around the office had changed
dramatically since the day I had joined them both for lunch. He had also been
further suspicious when people in the office kept asking Anthony why he was on
a high and he’d been deliberately evasive and avoided any further questions.

“Things are
good – that’s it really.” as he shrugged his shoulders dismissively.

“He’s a good
guy, darling. I’m really pleased. Excellent prospects - he’s going to be
running the business for me when I decide I’m ready for part retirement. I
trust him with the business and I trust him to look after you.”

It worried me,
listening to him, and my tummy started churning. What he’d said about Anthony,
it sounded like he was giving me the eligible bachelor talk, telling me what
good prospects Anthony had. We’d spent such short periods of time together I
didn’t even know if we were sufficiently compatible.

“It’s early
days, Dad. We’ve only been dating up to now. I like him a lot and he’s keen on
me too but let’s just wait and see.”

Mum wanted to
meet Anthony and she couldn’t wait. She got a shopping list started – and
invited him to a dinner party for just the four of us the following weekend.
She was keen to make a good impression when he met her. I felt that Anthony
might have preferred something a little less formal, like popping in to say
hello for half an hour when he took me home one night but he seemed quite
pleased that Mum was going to such trouble for him.

The evening
arrived and the dinner party went very well. Anthony was his usual charming
self. Mum went a little over the top trying to make him feel welcome and
endlessly fussing. Dad talked business whenever he could manage to get a word
in for Mum bombarding Anthony with her never ending questions about his family.
He took me to meet his parents a couple of weeks later, we were in their house
for just over an hour and other than nodding their heads at me and a grudgingly
grunt of a greeting, I was ignored for the most part. I didn’t take it too
personally and told myself they were probably shy when it came to meeting
people.

Meeting the
parents was the proper start for our relationship – it was out in the open at
last. Days later we slept together for the first time. We got engaged within
six months and planned the wedding for eleven months later.

We both had
fairly small families so the majority of the guests were my friends from work
and Anthony’s (and Dad’s) friends from work. I invited some friends from
badminton, and Anthony invited his friends from the golf club. Cindy and Gemma
from the office were my bridesmaids, but as Cindy was six months pregnant the
seamstress made a much looser version of the figure hugging navy dress that
Gemma wore. They both looked stunningly beautiful as they watched me step into
my bridal gown in our suite at the hotel. We had picked a top class licensed
hotel as the venue for the civil ceremony, and we also had the wedding
breakfast and evening reception there. We’d chosen the civil ceremony because
we are both non-believers.

Dad was proud
as he walked me down the aisle and I felt such love for Anthony as we said our
vows. A love I had not expected to feel again for any man after Gavin. I was
the epitome of the happy blushing bride. I had flushed with embarrassment at
being the centre of attention, as Anthony, and then Dad, had made their very
witty and lovely remarks. Dad had also used that well-worn expression about
gaining a son, but I couldn’t help but think when he said it that he had
already regarded Anthony as a surrogate son before we had even been introduced.
It was the perfect wedding day.

One small
matter that bothered me was the distance that Anthony’s parents seemed to be
keeping. Not once throughout the whole day did they offer their congratulations
to the pair of us, nor was there any polite chitchat or fun to be had with them
as we posed for the group photos. It seemed like Eileen, his Mum, didn’t care
much for me and his Dad, John, wouldn’t dare to like me.

On the Sunday
morning we left for a honeymoon in Vegas -Anthony’s choice. Dad drove us over
to Gatwick and, as he left us at the drop off point with our luggage, he gave
me a big bear hug.

“You looked
beautiful yesterday, Helen. I was proud to be your father.” His eyes filled
with tears as he turned away and got back in the car.

I soon
discovered why Anthony had been eager to honeymoon in Vegas – the casinos. He
had never gambled before in his life, other than the occasional horse race like
the Grand National and the Epsom Derby. Many of his friends who had holidayed
in Vegas had been expressing their enthusiasm for the casinos -  how it had
been addictive for them, magical - the click of the chips, the constant supply
of alcohol to those playing the machines, blackjack, other card games, and
roulette wheels.

We fell into a
daily routine. Anthony was exceptionally loving and attentive throughout the
honeymoon. We made love every morning and explored the sights and attended some
shows in the afternoons. We dined early each evening before visiting the
casinos so that Anthony could indulge in his new found passion. I occasionally
played a few of the machines but I was cautious, setting myself an affordable
limit and once I reached it I gave up and was content to sit watching Anthony’s
game play.

He had also
started off very cautiously, but having had some decent wins in the first few
days he started getting reckless, gambling with higher stakes and not quitting
while he was ahead. I panicked at times as I watched him use his winnings as
his next stake.

Whilst I had no
desire to spoil his fun, I was worried that he was gambling with our joint
savings – savings which we had intended to keep for furnishing our new home in Windsor, which we had been able to afford only because of the sizeable deposit given to
Anthony by his parents. As it turned out I needn’t have worried – by the time
the honeymoon was over, the balance of our savings account had increased by
$14,500. Whilst it was nice to suddenly have a boost to our finances, I didn’t
take much comfort from it. He was already talking about visiting a casino in London, and having already seen the look on his face as he played, I was concerned that he
had become addicted.