July, 20th
Edith Shaw Lennox:
My husband and I have agreed to check email just once during our honeymoon in this gorgeous Mediterranean island, and he comes back from his e-time with a pretty unsavory piece of news. After wearing Henry thin, rallying for him and having Margaret involved with the wedding planning (and a steady stream of hints dropped on how wonderful it is to get married and all that), she turned down his marriage proposal.
Now, I am aware that Henry is not half as handsome and sexy as Ian is, but Margaret is not so conventional in her beauty either so I suppose that she shouldn't be so picky. It's a shame - it would be so nice to still be the roaring foursome that monopolizes society pages, but well, it's her choice and I respect her.
Her plans for the near future are a little foggy right now. Maybe she already knows that her father has decided to move up north, to a godforsaken place in Greater Manchester where he inherited property; my mother heard through a friend, married to someone who routinely reads those newspapers where inheritances and the like are published. Mum is the word.
Why he doesn't sell the damned place, or rents it, is a mystery to me. Then again, my uncle is lovely but he's a little airheaded sometimes. Now that I'm married I can see why my mother raises eyebrows so often when he is brought up in the conversation. Uncle Richard is nowhere near Ian, who is so good looking and financially sound and will protect me forever instead of forcing me to work in a boring place like a library even after we have children. I mean, I have a degree and could work if I wished so, but could and must mean a world of difference where work is involved.
August, 1st
Richard Hale:
I cannot express how immensely happy I am by Margaret returning to our home. Maria and I thought she'd stay in London, find a job and marry that friend of Edith's husband, or spend a year or so in Cádiz with our son and his wife, but she wanted to come home with us. It is just too good to be true, because life in this house has become rather strained lately.
Retirement hasn't sit well with neither Maria nor I. She's antsy, and swimming in the mornings and book clubs or gardening meetings in the afternoon can barely placate her uneasiness. More than once I've caught her looking at me as if waiting for something, but if it's for something I haven't given her already then there's nothing else I can do.
In turn I am not completely at ease with this old age unemployment either. We receive monthly checks, of course, but our savings were meager and life in Oxford is truly expensive. I am not good at managing money (especially when it is scarce) but I'd detest handing this responsibility over to my wife, so last year I set out to find a solution.
As if answering my prayers I inherited a property, a little house of my grandfather's that an unmarried elderly aunt had been occupying but was entailed to me. The wonderful news had a caveat, though: the house is not in Oxford but in a northern town named Milton, in Greater Manchester, and renting it or selling it wouldn't help us in the long run. I started doing some research (I tried the goggles, that thing on the computer everybody talks about, but I am old fashioned and the geography section of the library was my real source), and decided that we could move up north and I could become a tutor for adult students. I think we could sustain ourselves from our paychecks and that additional income, and the cost of living is cheaper and we wouldn't have to pay rent like we do in Oxford. Sounds like a perfect plan to me.
An old friend of mine, one Dr. Glen Donaldson, whom I still meet at our annual college dinner, has been living there for three decades and tells me there is market for adult learning. He even gave me the name of a patient of his, a fellow who dropped out from high school after a disastrous family situation, got into business but now wants to finish his degree.
The only part about this plan I haven't figured out is how to tell Maria. I am sure she will be happy to have the relief of more money coming in and less going out but I just don't know how to break the news. I trust Margaret will help me with that.
August, 3rd.
Maria Hale:
The Lord expresses Himself in strange ways.
I've prayed long and steady for a change, and today came the signs I was waiting for.
In the morning my husband informed me that he had inherited a small property near Manchester, and along with my daughter they convinced me of the benefits of leaving Oxford and settling there. Not that it felt I had much saying in that - it was presented very much as a fait accompli, but Margaret will stay with us and that is all the guarantee I need to know everything will turn out fine.
In the afternoon I had an appointment at the doctor's office. My dear friend Bertha Dixon came with me because she knew of my wariness towards this particular visit, and we went for tea and pastries after it.
It seems that the Lord has planned for me to join him sooner than I thought. All that story of moving to Manchester doesn't interest me much, I'm engrossed by my own problems. I don't know how I will break the news to Margaret, Richard and Frederick, but I suppose they didn't think of me first when they were planning the move from Oxford.
I just know for sure that I won't meet my grandchildren.
That is probably the only thing that makes me sad right now.
August, 15th
Bertha Dixon:
These Hales! A hasty removal from a home they had been living in for almost three decades, in only three weeks! That shows what my friend's husband is made of... but I shouldn't bad mouth him, much as I think he deserves it.
Fortunately Margaret, their adoptive daughter, took matters in her hands and has arranged almost everything. She has made sure everything was packed and also that the house they'll move into is in good condition.
I would have done it gladly all by myself but I just help and give Maria support. It's the least I can do and I know it will become burdensome in the near future. Her family is still unaware of that, though... they can be so inattentive!
September, 5th
Richard Hale:
We're completely installed in this new old house. The last time I was here I was young and my love for Maria was fresh and untarnished by the hardships we had to endure later. For me, this house represents a bridge from a wonderful moment in the past to a brilliant future.
I believe we'll be very happy here, all of us.