CHAPTER - 13

13 

 

 

We arrived at my Uncle’s early in the afternoon. Although it was not so big, being wide and one room deep, the place still looked like a mansion. Old, maybe built in the Georgian period. Set back off the road in an extensive garden. They had no kids so I supposed it was not so difficult keeping everything pristine. Monkie took one look at the sweeping tarmac driveway and parked on the road explaining that dripping oil and the driveway tarmac, being softer than road tarmac, was not a combination to be recommended. The resultant potholes might not be to my uncle’s taste. Something that I could only agree with. 

As aunt Viv had already suggested, my uncle was at work. I introduced Monkie as Tommy Monk but she said, “I bet you call him Monkie, I would. The same as I call you Rich because I find it easier and you don’t like Aubrey very much. Although, as I have said many times before, if you do ever fulfil your aspiration and make it to the bar, you might be grateful for Aubrey, it would be a very suitable professional name which would more than sit comfortably within such a high flung profession.”

 

That little speech made Monkie nudge my arm. I know what he was thinking and he was right. Twenty or so years living with my uncle had its effect on those associated with him. Aunt Viv looked at me. Brushed her hand through my hair, “This is such a sudden and unexpected visit. Are you all right, darling?” she asked. Pulled me close and hugged me tightly. “We worry about you… come into the kitchen and I’ll fix something for you both to eat.” 

I couldn’t lie to her. She knew all about my situation as I’d been to visit a few times since I had moved out of home. When we had sat down I said, “Things have happened and I needed to get away, that's all.” 

“What sort of things?” 

“The usual. I was going to see mum yesterday but she phoned and said dad was at home and in a temper.” I didn’t tell her why, the least she knew the better really. 

“Is your mother all right?” 

“I think so. I’ve not seen her but she said she was.” 

Aunt Viv smiled at Monkie “I’m sorry, I realise family things can be boring.” She looked at me and said, “As long as you think she’s all right.” Then back to Monkie, “So, Monkie, are you still at school?” 

“I left this year because I’m eventually hoping to work for my father. He has a car business.” 

“That’s nice. It’s good that you help with the family business… What about now, though?” 

“Now, I just try to pay my way. Odd jobs and the like.” 

“That’s interesting. Like Rich then. I think your uncle is intending to have a chat with you about that, Rich. Now, though, I’ll make you both a sandwich. Your uncle should be home soon. He’s looking forward to seeing you.”  

 

The one thing about my uncle that I always admired was his ability to understand. He had this way of absorbing information, processing it, then releasing a stream of words that precisely described what he was thinking. I suppose that was why he was a top barrister. 

Just before four I heard his car door bang. The first thing he said when he came into the kitchen was, “You must be Monkie,” and offered his hand. “I assume the pile of metal outside is your car… Surely a nice car once… By the way, I noticed the oil slick so thanks for parking on the road… Hello, Rich. You look okay but I’ve a feeling underneath that handsome exterior a complex battle is still raging. Anything you want to discuss?” 

He glanced at Monkie but I intervened, “Nothing specific thank you, Uncle, maybe just a general chat.” 

“Perfect, that’s exactly what I had in mind,” he said. “Now though a cup of tea and is that cake. What do you say, Monkie, more tea, more cake. I know Rich won’t hold back.” 

Aunt Viv put the kettle on the stove then said, “I’ve things to do Ralphie. I’ll leave the tea to you and the cake’s in the tin.” As she left she glanced quickly at me and I suspected my uncle had some trap in mind. 

The water boiled and the cake was cut and my uncle sat at the table opposite me. He studied me for a moment then said, “What are you reading at the moment, Rich?” 

“Catcher in the Rye,” I replied. “And for the second time I should add.” But he already knew I had read it. 

“And has it improved since its first outing?” 

“I still like it if that’s what you mean.” 

“I do… the tale of a dysfunctional teenager. The question is does he come good in the end after a summer of turmoil. I believe the book offers a conclusion that is not definitive. So, do people in a dysfunctional environment ever come good is a very good question. My opinion is, rarely, because for whatever reason the required circumstances are hardly ever recognised and that is a real worry.” My uncle looked at me then at Monkie. “How about you, Monkie. What do you think?” 

“About the book?” 

“Not really, more about how to escape the rigours of an oppressive regime. For instance, what are you doing at the moment? That is not to say you are unfortunate enough to be put upon, I would merely be interested in your opinion.” 

“I have to say I have no real opinion having never been in that situation. At the moment I’m doing a few things here and there,” replied Monkie and I could see on his face he was wondering where the inquisition was heading. 

“Are these the same things Rich is involved in?” 

“Similar, I suppose.” 

“I know what you were about to say. It’s what Rich said about six months ago the first time he came to visit after he’d left home. I asked him then how he would survive. You were about to say striving to make ends meet. A good saying. It’s my contention it has the makings of a conundrum. There are two distinct parts to the statement. First there’s the striving and then there’s the encouragement of the ends to meet. But, in my experience, the two entities are continually at odds with each other. The ends tend to keep getting longer leaving the striving struggling to keep up. The result is an ever increasing need to up the striving. The question then becomes, does this create a slippery slope? A need to increase economic activity to match the lengthening ends leading to greater risk taking to gain additional financial reward which, after all, is what’s required to shorten the ends. Does that ultimately lead to a slid down said slope into the abyss of crime.” He looked at both of us in turn.  

It was obvious where the inference was directed, where my uncle’s worry lay and it was not with Monkie. After all, he was an unknown as far as my uncle was concerned. Just a guy who had come along for the ride to be caught up in the genuine concerns of an almost eccentric uncle. 

One thing Monkie was good at was actions to enhance a moment. The fake accident for example and all of those subtle nuances to add reality. He was quick to respond. Resting on his elbows he clasped his hands in front of him and leant his chin on his knuckles. Perfect, a typical deep thought pose. Shame it would have no effect on my uncle but he didn’t know that. “For my part,” he said, “It is my intention to make the best of my situation by taking up my father’s offer of going into business with him. It is his intention to expand said business eventually to change premises to enable him to get away from the lower end of car sales, which he sees as eventually declining, and move into the more lucrative luxury market that he perceives as an area for rapid growth as the post war economy continues to recover. Also there is the intention to amalgamate into the car sales and repair business a budget rental and lease operation that would be of particular interest to companies not wishing to expend vital cash flow to fill their mobility requirements.” I looked at my uncle and saw him smiling. Monkie was certainly full of surprises. 

“Well, that is excellent,” said my uncle. “It is good that you have that opportunity and that you and your father have a clear understanding of the direction you wish to travel.” Then he looked at me. 

He was worried, I could see that and that was what his speech was all about. My sudden appearance had added to what had been a high level of anxiety as far as I was concerned. Something that had been manifesting in his mind for a long time. I suspected that to some extent he had given up on my mother. He had tried but probably had now concluded she had settled on a way of life that he could not influence. Me, though, that was a different matter. 

I had already told Monkie some of my history. For instance why I was living with Marge so I felt quite comfortable saying, “I intend to take up studying again, Uncle, and I don’t intend it to be too long before I do. My life has settled now I’m living with Marge and that gives me the opportunity. So, you don’t have to worry so much. Also I have a girl, Alice, who I’m starting to go out with so you can see I’m becoming nicely settled.” 

Not much of a speech. Not like Monkie but I could see some relief spread over his face. I think he particularly liked the thought of Alice being a source of me being settled. “Well, it sounds like you’re getting yourself sorted out at last, Rich. If you need any help organising your education just let me know.” He paused, opened his mouth as though he was going to say more but changed his mind. Instead he finished off by saying, “I’ve some work to do in my study until dinner. I take it you two can amuse yourselves until then.” With that he was up and off out of the door. 

The next day my uncle went to work quite early. We helped Aunt Viv in the morning, jobs around the garden and all that sort of thing. Monkie discovered an old large motorised cylinder mower with a pull along seat on top of a roller and spent two hours zipping up and down cutting the grass. We left straight after lunch. Monkie thought his mother would be out late afternoon so suggested we stop off at his place so I could meet Bengi.