Chapter 4 Climbing Mountains
That Friday had been a terrible day for Constance, no matter how hard she had tried, trouble had just seemed to dog her every step. As usual she had tried to avoid Grace as much as possible at work, but somehow Grace always managed to get onto her scent like a bloodhound seeking out its prey, and when she did find her she would always have something to complain about. Quite often a long list of things. Constance loved her job, teaching children English as a second language, and she was sure that she was good at it. Unfortunately not everyone shared that view, and Grace was at the top of that list. She could still hear Grace’s voice ringing in her ears from her latest barrage.
‘After each lesson you must put the grammar books back in the right place, in the right order. Otherwise how will the next teacher who needs them find them? How many times do I have to tell you the same things? What on earth is wrong with you?’
It hadn’t been fair at all, because she had actually just been getting ready to put the books away, when a couple of her lovely students’ mothers asked her for an update of how their little girls were getting along in English. Even though Constance struggled a bit explaining it all in Spanish, she had felt it important to answer the anxious mothers’ questions. Important not only for the well being of the kids, but also as a sort of public relations exercise for the school. She was, after all, its representative with those mothers. For those mothers she was the human face of the school. She had thought that she had been doing the correct thing, but when she tried to explain it all to Grace, a particularly sharp-tongued woman from the north of England, all she got in return was a lot of tut-tuttering.
‘What a lot of bunkum. They will see their children’s results after the regular tests they sit. Besides, couldn’t you have explained it all to them while you are putting everything in order? Is that too much to ask of you? You always just look for any excuse to have a break. You need to leave your laziness at the door, young lady. Here we have a lot of work to do. This is not the place for idle hands, or idle chatter.’
Grace was a stern looking woman of around 65 years old. She was heavy set, with short grey hair, and a no nonsense air about her. Constance had never seen her smile, and was sure that all her students, Grace taught mainly adults, really disliked her. Grace was an old-school style of teacher, who beat things into her students, rather than encouraging them to learn, and to enjoy the experience. Her favourite teaching tool was the raised voice, and the threatening glare. God only knew who had been foolish enough to put a hard-bitten battle axe like her in charge of a school. Constance loved teaching her little ones, and firmly believed, even though she had never had any formal training as a teacher, that the best approach was one of inclusion, getting the children involved in the lesson, rather than just robotically making them repeat phrases over and over again, until they were memorised. A language needed to be understood, not just memorised.
‘You must leave the classroom as you found it, everything in order for the next class. I would have thought that that was clear by now. Goodness knows how many times I have had to tell you the same things, over and over again.’
‘Yes, I will. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.’
After every run in with Grace, Constance felt really depressed. She sometimes wondered if she hadn’t been better off in her earlier years in Spain, when she had found work in restaurants, washing dishes, then eventually waiting on tables. It had been hard work, with long hours, and not much money, but at least the people she had worked with had been nice to her, and had treated her with respect. Almost every day Constance thought about quitting, and going back to that sort of work. The only drawback was that she absolutely loved teaching her kids. She loved her students, and they loved her. She would really hate to leave them, which meant that she was stuck with the constant rantings of the tyrannical Queen of the school of hard knocks.
Finally, somehow, the never ending day had passed, and she had found herself, thankfully, with Grace off her back. She had hoped to have a pleasant relaxing evening, free of the constant castigation she had endured all day. Unfortunately Grace’s continual rantings were only then to be replaced by those of Jeff, with the new bone that he had found to chew on. He had slipped effortlessly into a constant jealous tirade about her having spent so much time in the company of another man, Matt, on Wednesday evening. Constance had explained the situation to him, time and again, but Jeff just didn’t seem to listen to, or believe her. His tone of voice was bitter and sardonic.
‘Did he ask you out on another date?’
‘Jeff, it wasn’t a date, we were just chatting about his old experiences back in Australia.’
‘You’re very naive, you know. Every guy who chats up a bird is just looking for one thing. You’re so gullible.’
Jeff was fairly spewing with rage.
‘But I told you, he is old enough to be my father, in fact that was really the point of what we were talking…’
Jeff would have none of it.
‘Yeah, well you listen to me. The old ones are the worst ones. If he asks you out again that will be a sure sign that I am right. Are you even listening to me? Is any of this even getting through that thick skull of yours?’
Constance fell into silence as Jeff continued with his ranting. Their evening out for a meal, and some nice wine, had turned into yet another argument about how Constance had got it all wrong, again. As usual Constance fell quickly into her habitual apologetic mode, although really, she didn’t feel that she had done anything wrong. Matt had been most gentlemanly, and had never shown any indication that he wanted anything other than a good chat. In fact it had all been her idea, she had asked him to tell her about his old days, the days her father had also lived. As Jeff’s voice continued to resound in her ears, Constance drifted back with her mind to the story Matt had told her. She wondered if her father had ever climbed up Mount Warning? Of course he would have. That was something that everyone from around that part of Australia did, hippies or not. From where they had lived in Evans Head, it was only about a fifty kilometre drive to Mount Warning. She herself had made the climb when she was about 14 years old, with a group organised through her school. Why had she never thought of that? As she had been admiring the fantastic view from the top of the mount, she had probably been standing on the same spot that her father had once stood. They had both marvelled at the same spectacular panorama. In her mind’s eye she could almost see him up there, with her. Without a doubt her father would have slept the night up there, waiting for the unique experience of being the first person to see the dawn in Australia. She wondered if he might have woken up early, and smoked a joint before the sun came up. The thought of that made her smile.
‘Do you think this is funny? Some old guy is trying to get you into his bed, and you find that funny.’
Constance returned with a jolt to the jealous ramblings of Jeff. She knew that she could never explain what she had been thinking about. Jeff had never shown any interest in her past, and didn’t understand the effect it had had on her to have lost her father at such a young age. So she tried to placate his anger in the usual way, the well trodden path, that of talking about him.
‘No Jeff, I was just trying to enjoy our evening out together. You must be worn out after the long week you had at work. Did you manage to outtrade Henderson again this week?’
Jeff threw up his hands, and pointed a finger at Constance.
‘Huh! That bloody idiot! Let me tell you just how ridiculous his trades were this week. I just can’t believe I’m the only one to see what he’s up to.’
While Jeff jumped onto his favourite of all topics, Constance could once again relax, and she returned to her thoughts about Matt’s adventures. She had never been up to Kuranda, although she had been told it was a really lovely place. She had no idea if it was still a hangout for hippies, or whether, more probably, it had become a bit of a tourist town. No doubt the latter, she thought, being such a beautiful spot. She just couldn’t believe that Matt, and his friend, had just wandered around the town until they had found that lovely big empty house, which they had then made their own, temporarily. Imagine that, she thought, just entering a house that you liked the look of, and deciding to sleep there. Things must have been much more casual back in the 70’s, with no neighbours coming over to enquire about what was going on, or even calling the police. When they couldn’t find a place to stay they would just pitch their tents somewhere, in someone’s field, or on the beachfront, and they were at home. Probably that was what her father had done as well. Maybe through his wanderings he had come across Evans Head, just a short distance from Byron Bay, which even in the modern age was still a bit of a centre for alternative lifestylers. Back in the 70’s it had been the Australian centre of hippydom. Constance knew that her father had been born in Melbourne, and her mother in Sydney, but she had never asked her mother how it was that they had ended up living in Evans Head. Would she tell her even if she asked? Her mother never told her anything about her father’s past. Was she embarrassed that he had been a hippy? Maybe she had been a hippy too? No, that wasn’t very likely. Hippies were supposed to be free, and easy going, not tightly strung moaners. She had so many questions for her mother, but she knew that, as usual, her mother would just give her the brush off, and return to her favourite discussion point about how Constance was wasting her time in Spain. As was her custom, her mother would push the subject back to how it was time for her to settle down, back home in Australia, get married, and have children. Before it was all too late. Which wasn’t that far off, she was regularly told. Her biological clock was counting down rapidly to the point of no return. Talking to her mother was more about being lectured to, rather than actually discussing things. She should introduce her mother to Grace! She was sure that the two of them would get on like a house on fire. They would have a lovely time with the two of them criticising her. They had a common bond. Her. She was sure that they would soon become the best of friends, nattering on about their constant dispirited view on how she was totally useless, and was just wasting her, and everybody else’s, time. Constance made sure she suppressed the smile that was building in her. She didn’t want to set Jeff off again.
‘They certainly don’t deserve you there. They just don’t realise how lucky they are to have you working for them.’
‘That’s for bloody sure, Connie. Sometimes I’ve half a mind to go back to Blighty, and work for one of the competition. That would serve them right. Then they would come crawling on their hands and knees to beg me to come back. The bloody tossers!’
‘Shall we go back to my place, Jeff. I’ve got some nice wine.’
‘No, not tonight, Connie. I’ve arranged to meet some of the guys from work at a club further down along the coast. In fact, what time is it?’
Jeff looked at his watch.
‘Half past ten. I better get off home, and get changed. Come on. let’s pay the bill, and get out of here.’
‘No, you go Jeff. I’ll just stay here for a while. It’s a lovely evening. I really enjoy spring here, the nice warm days, with the wonderful cool evenings. You get off, I’ll pay the bill when I leave.’
‘OK, I’ll catch you tomorrow.’
Jeff stood up, kissed Constance on the head, as she sat there, and without a further word headed off down the road.
That rather unexpected show of affection set off alarm bells with Constance. That definitely wasn’t Jeff’s normal behaviour, especially in public. A feeling of betrayal seeped through Constance. She had no real proof, but she was almost certain that when Jeff went out clubbing, he would always find a girl to take home. To sleep with. Probably she should be grateful that he even wanted to be her boyfriend, he was such a good looking man, but the thought of him sleeping with another woman brought tears to her eyes. She looked at the empty wine bottle. The thought crossed her mind to order another bottle, and try and wash away her feelings of sadness with wine. The only problem was that she knew that she would pay a heavy price the morning after, and would end up feeling even worse. Her sadness would only then be compounded by a terrible hangover. Constance resisted the temptation, paid the bill, and went for a walk along the harbour quay.
In the dark of night, under the street lighting, the moored boats looked delightfully graceful. On one side of the harbour there were the smaller fishing boats, waiting for the early morning tide to be taken out in search of the day’s catch. On the other side were moored the larger tourist boats, sparkling in their cleanliness, ready to dispatch another group of day trippers along the coast. She found an empty bench, and sat looking at the beauty of the place that she now called home. She loved everything about Spain, the weather, the food, the lovely warm winters, and especially the fact that she was a long way away from her mother, and her incessant nagging. She had been avoiding her mother’s calls all week, but knew that eventually she would have to answer one of them. Constance always had a good excuse for not answering those calls. She would just say that she had been giving a lesson. Her mother didn’t know what her timetable was, so that side of it was covered, but, at the end of the day, at some stage she would have to talk to her. Or to put it more realistically, she would have to listen to her. Maybe it was time to turn the tables? As she looked at the captivating scene all around her, Constance decided that in her next call with her mother she would try and find out some more information about her father. Surely her mother would know of his many adventures? From the sound of the stories that Matt had told her, back in those free times of the late 70’s every day seemed to have been an adventure. Constance smiled as she thought of Matt, and his friend Paul, sitting stoned, on the curb of the street, unsure of why they had even gone to Cairns, or what was the next step. The journey itself had been so much of an adventure, that they hadn’t ever considered what they would do when they arrived. A life without plans. A journey without maps. Enjoying the moment, and meeting great people along the way. What a fantastic way to live. In her mind’s eye, she could imagine her father sitting out there with them on that curb, talking and laughing without a care in the world. Constance looked at her watch. With a sigh she realised that it was time to get to bed, so as to be ready for another day of it all. She made her way home, carefully avoiding thinking about what Jeff was up to, and trying to focus on how her father had spent his youth. How on earth had he met up with her mother? They seemed to have come from two worlds that had no intersecting points. On her next phone call she was determined to press the issue. She wanted to find out more about her father.
Saturday morning was the best time of all for Constance at the school. She only had one class, a group of three little girls who were so cute, and wide eyed, that they made her forget all about her problems, and focus on preparing her students for the big world that awaited them. Being able to speak English well would be a big help for them in the life that was ahead of them. Constance always prepared her lessons well, and gave all she could to her students. The other good thing about Saturday morning, definitely the best part, was that there was no Grace. Grace had the weekends off, so Constance didn’t need to hide, or sneakily look around corners, trying to avoid her nemesis. The language school was only open in the morning on Saturdays. Without the presence of Grace, Constance would have gladly worked all the day, but instead by shortly after eleven in the morning she had found herself at home. She knew that she wouldn’t see Jeff that day, he would be sleeping off his late night out, so she thought about what she would do in the afternoon. Before she had time to prepare her lunch, her phone started ringing. She could see by the prefix that it was her mother. Instinctively Constance thought about avoiding the call, she really wasn’t in the mood for more of her mother’s preaching, but a sense of firmness came over her. She decided that it was time to find out more about her father. She would take the bull by the horns. She would press her mother for information. She answered the call.
‘Hello mum, how are you?’
‘Well, about time. I’ve been ringing all week. Your brother always answers my calls, or if he can’t he calls me back straight away. And you know how busy he is. I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Constance.’
‘Mum, with the time difference, and my lessons, I… ‘
‘Oh, don’t give me all that rubbish! English lessons! After all the studying you did you just throw your life away giving English lessons. You know your brother has got another promotion? He’s now head of his department. He’s really moving up in the world, I’m so proud of him. I hope you are, too. You should send him your congratulations. How’s that fellow of yours? Jeff, isn’t it? He seems like a good catch. Working in investment banking, you should be so lucky.’
‘Yes, he really is a bit of a high flyer. We get on…’
‘How’s your diet coming along? If you want Jeff to stay with you, you really need to lose some weight. Did you take my advice on cutting out bread from your diet? I’ve read that that can help you slim down no end. You remember Julie from along the street? Well, she cut out bread altogether, and within six months she looked like a new person. Do you ever listen to the advice I give you, or am I just talking to the four walls?’
‘Of course I do, mum. In fact there’s something I would like to ask you.’
‘Anything dear, what can I help you with?’
Constance concentrated herself, she wanted to be as clear and concise as possible.
‘Actually, mum, I was wondering about the life dad lived, and how the two of you met.’
‘Oh my goodness, why on earth would you care about that? That’s ancient history. Why on earth does that matter? Are you growing your hair longer? You know, short hair just makes you look fatter, especially in the face. Longer hair would give you something to hide the plumpness of your face behind. If you would ever listen to me, God forgive, you would grow your hair out, and try and slim down. You were so lovely when you were young. Why on earth you can’t control your eating is beyond me. You would look better, and I’m sure that you would feel better, too. If you want to hang onto that Jeff chap you should really think seriously about how you are living your life.’
Constance was not in a mood to be thwarted from her objective.
‘Mum, did dad ever climb up Mount Warning?’
‘Mount Warning? What sort of nonsense have you got in your head? How on earth would I know that. Constance, you really need to focus on where you are in your life, instead of daydreaming your life away. You realise that at your age your biological clock is fast getting to the point when you will be too old to have children. What about Jeff? Does he want children? Have you even discussed the matter with him? You really need to think about that, Constance, or you will find yourself over the hill, childless, and with no prospects. Stuck in Spain. Do you ever think about these things? You really need to get your head out of the clouds, and start to focus on what’s important.’
Constance couldn’t take anymore. She had tried, and failed. As usual.
‘Sorry, mum, but I have to go, I’ve got a private lesson in half an hour. We’ll catch up later in the week. Bye, mum.’
Constance, without giving her mother time to reply, hung up the phone. Why was it she could never get a word in edgewise with her mother? She had tried, but her mother just never listened to her. She wished that she hadn’t bothered to answer the call. Her mother hadn’t replied to any of her questions about her father. Really, she had totally dismissed even the very idea of them. Frustrated, Constance decided to skip lunch, and just ate a bar of chocolate. She would walk along the beach, looking for all the answers to the questions she wasn’t even able to ask.
Constance put on her usual beachwear, a very large, and loose, white cotton dress which reached down well below her knees. When she reached the beach, she took off her shoes, and let the soft sand massage her feet. The warm midday spring sun made her feel instantly more positive. She was in her element. Her place of easy contemplation. She walked along the beach, letting her mind drift where it wanted. Would she like to have a child with Jeff? Would he want a child with her? Constance knew that she was lucky to have found someone as good as Jeff, but she also knew, almost certainly, that he wasn’t faithful to her. Could that be the basis of a lifelong relationship? Should she stay with someone who treated her the way he did, just because he was handsome, and successful? Did she really love him, or was it just nice to be with someone? Constance was fairly sure that Jeff didn’t really love her. In fact, he never even said that he did. What was she to him? She had so many questions, with answers that seemed elusive. She closed her eyes, raised her head, and let the warm sun wash over her face. The sun on her face felt so reviving. The sun’s rays filled the void in her. She would enjoy the afternoon, and leave all those difficult questions for another day. Not that she thought that she was ever going to find answers to them, anyway.
‘It looks like you are paying homage to Apollo, the Greek God of the sun.’
Startled, Constance opened her eyes to find Matt standing in front of her, with a broad grin on his face. She felt instantly embarrassed to have been caught in such a ridiculous pose. She felt her face blush.
‘Hi Matt, I’m sorry, I was just letting the sun warm my face a bit.’
‘Why on earth would you apologise for that? On such a lovely spring day who wouldn’t want to feel Apollo’s rays bringing comfort. You know, I’m glad I bumped into you. I wanted to thank you. After our chat the other evening you got me thinking about those old days. I haven’t really thought about those times in decades. For an old bloke like me that was a life time ago. It was nice to remember those times. I suppose that over the years I’ve never really had the opportunity to chat about those days, so I had more or less forgotten about them. Probably they are only really relevant to people from Kiwi or Aus who experienced them, that was really a bit of a period of our history. I couldn’t really imagine people from another country being interested in that stuff.’
‘Oh, I really loved it. I’ve been thinking about how my father probably did things like that. I wish I’d had a chance to talk to him about those days.’
‘Can’t you find out from your mum? She must have been through it all as well.’
Constance’s face took on a gloomy expression.
‘You don’t know my mum. She never talks about him, or those days. Frankly I can’t even understand how they met.’
‘I see! That’s a shame. Listen, I’m sorry to rush off, but I’m power walking up to a restaurant further along the beach, for a late lunch with friends. Anyway, I’m sure that I will see you around, Constance. Bye for now.’
Matt turned to go. Constance quickly seized the moment. Her only link to her father was through Matt. He was her lifeline to a former age, an age in which her father had walked the planet.
‘Matt, would you mind meeting up again, and telling me some more stories of those days? I really enjoyed it, and it sort of brings my father to life for me. If it’s not too much bother.’
Matt laughed.
‘You know, I would quite like that too. It’s funny all the details that you can conjure up out of the hidden corners of your memory banks. You said you are free on Wednesday afternoons, right? What about the same time, same place, on Wednesday? Let’s say around 5.30-6 pm. Suit you?’
‘That would be lovely Matt. Thanks so much. I will see you there. The drinks will be on me!’
With a wave Matt stormed off, striding away at a fast pace along the beach. Constance felt a wave of elation pass through her. If her mother refused to answer her questions about her father, at least she would be able to understand the times he lived in, and the experiences he had gone through. A beacon of light was shinning through the dark clouds that rolled through her mind, and cast long shadows on her days. It was even possible that Matt and her father had crossed paths, back in those days. She couldn’t wait until Wednesday.
Monday morning had reared its ugly head, bringing with it the trepidation of having to deal with the constant wrath of Grace, the keeper of the fires of hell. It was always a great source of irony for Constance that the evil Queen was actually named Grace, a name that conjured up feelings of elegance, and courteous behaviour. Dignity, mixed with poise. If ever anyone had ever been named with the most inappropriate name possible for them, it had been her boss Grace. Without a doubt her parents hadn’t realised the monster that they had spawned, or perhaps they had had the most wonderful sense of irony? Constance hadn’t seen Jeff at all on Saturday, no doubt he had been really hungover. Then on Sunday mornings he usually met at a pub for brunch, with some of his colleagues. He had come over to her place on Sunday evening with a takeaway dinner, for a quick romp in bed. The sort of wham bam sex that had seemed to have become their usual, and only, sort of sexual encounter. Without a doubt it was obviously more than acceptable for Jeff, but was that really all that Constance should expect from her boyfriend? Where was the satisfaction for her in that? With a sigh she knew that she would add those questions to the long list of questions, filed away, where they would never see the light of day. That almost seemed to sum up her life. Unanswerable questions, that remained unanswered because they would never even be asked. She felt abandoned in the grey areas of life. She was blundering around in the darkness, and the batteries in her torch were dead. She could see no light. Her life seemed to be spent in the dark areas of life where knowledge, and understanding, was only noticeable by its absence.
With a shock she realised that the Queen of Evil had sneaked up on her unannounced. She had let her guard down.
‘Constance, how many times do I need to tell you that you need to prepare your lessons better? This just isn’t good enough. Wasting time out here in the corridor making photocopies while your class is sitting idle. Couldn’t you do that before starting the class? Your preparation is absolutely atrocious. Will you ever listen to me? How many times do I have to tell you the same things? This really is just not good enough.’
‘Actually, what happened was that…’
Grace was in no mood for listening to her reasons for making those photocopies. She snapped back at her.
‘Oh, just get on with it, and get back to your class. I have no interest in hearing your flimsy excuses. Some of us don’t have time to waste. Some of us have work to do.’
‘But Grace, one of the kids…’
By then it was too late, Grace had dashed off, leaving Constance with no possibility to explain that one of the children had left his text book at home, and while he could share another child’s book for the general lesson, he needed his own copies to fill in the answers to the grammar questions. Grace felt so dejected. She always prepared her lessons well, but how could she have predicted that one of her students would have forgotten his book? Through no fault of her own, the week had started on a bad note. Much like every other week, under the stalwart reign of the demon Queen. Even though Constance managed to stay out of Grace’s way for the rest of the day, the damage had been done. She had s