In Dreams Ch. 03

It was pretty obvious that Jean and Ottilie had met before, but I suspected in a social (via Maud) and not pastoral context, if you get my drift. I kind-a had it figured, that Maud would have dragged all four of my visitors along with her to the regular Sunday Service. Probably Maud hauled them down to the Methodist Chapel as well.

Maud believed in hedging her bet's. Whatever both ministers and religious establishments appeared to serve almost all of the local churchgoers equally. If you couldn't get to one for some reason or the other, then the other establishment would do just fine. Although some folks did tend to refer to themselves, as "Chapel" or "Church."

"Well, what kind of time frame are you two thinking about?" Jean finally asked, bringing me back into the conversation.

"How about yesterday? I said jokingly.

"Carson... From the way you two have been carrying-on; the day before that would have been better. But no mind, in a way it's served a purpose. Half the village thinks you two are married anyway, mainly because of young Tara. The other half thinks that you were married at one time, when you were very young; but divorced for some reason. They believe that you have suddenly found each other again and reconciled.

"Now Ottilie. Your divorce, do you happen to have the relevant paperwork with you?"

Ottilie said that she didn't.

"In that case, I'm afraid that it will take a little longer Carson. Because I know that Ottilie has been married before, I have to tell the registrar, and she won't issue an emergency licence until she's actually seen Ottilie's divorce papers. That's a shame really because we could have fitted you in on Saturday."

Sylvia's husband brought down the relevant divorce paperwork that weekend. So Ottilie not holding a grudge against her father proved handy, in more ways than Tara staying with him for a year. Ottilie had told him where to find them and given him the combination to her little safe.

As Ottilie read the safe's combination out to her father over the phone; I found myself looking at the old wooden chest that I kept all my important and legal papers in. And sort-of wondered whether I should have had a safe as well. An unimportant question because very soon Ottilie's safe became our safe and is now bolted to the floor where that old sea chest used to reside.

Oh, Tara purloined that rather quickly! She uses it (with a couple of cushions on top) as a seat by her window. What secrets she has locked away inside that old trunk, I know not.

Delaying the wedding a week, unfortunately allowed time for my parents to attend. Albeit with their (replacement) significant others. As I've said before, a sudden excess of money can have some unexpected repercussions. I'd have never thought that my parents would ever... But maybe that's something I should be angry with Percy about, but I'll never know for sure.

My folks did their best to get along, but you could cut the atmosphere with a knife if either's significant other was also in the room, if you get my drift. We farmed them out to two different hotels, one just outside each end of the town. It worked, ..... some of the time.

Frank Thorn, his brother, sister and significant others came down for the wedding, but I don't know where any of them stayed. Let's just say that Frank kept out of my way as much as was humanly possible.

The service was brief as they go, and nearly the entire village turned out, as well as some acquaintances from the town. Mostly boat people, that I did business with, and some of the more presentable clients of a few of the local watering holes.

There was no formal meal after the service. That would possibly have resulted in carnage. Instead two buffets and plenty of alcoholic refreshments were laid on. One at my... our house, and the other at the pub up the road. Ottilie and I spent the evening wandering between the two, until it was time (or rather the tide was right) for us to board a friend's launch (tarted-up inshore fishing boat) and head upriver to another friend's holiday-cottage for the night.

When young John collected us and took us back to the house the following day there was little evidence left from fun and games of the night before. That's if you ignored the stack of bin-bags full of empty cans and bottles.

Then, I had to say goodbye for a few days to my new wife, and of course my daughter. I had suggested that I might go along with them, to help Ottilie sort her house sale out. But... well, lets say better judgement and diplomacy dictated that I didn't.

Ottilie's father would be around after-all, and whenever I did clap eyes on him, I kept getting a strong... almost overwhelming urge, to smack the bugger on the nose.

Ottilie returned less than a week later, accompanied by several thousand cubic feet of Pickfords' removal lorry, and some nice porters to unload the thing. By the time the van had squeezed itself back out of the gate, the garage and every other watertight building was chock full of Ottilie's worldly possessions.

It took us several months to decide what would go and what would stay, choosing between each others as we thought would best fit the house. A surprising amount of Ottilie's stuff did replace some of mine, in the house. But not the bed!

No, neither of our beds stayed. Ottilie's, because... well, do I really have to say. And mine because it was too damned squeaky. Not that that was a problem when we were alone in the house, but we'd become too... aware of it, when Tara and Kate were down.

Yeah, Kate tended to come down with Tara. Ostensibly, she was acting as Tara's travelling companion; but more likely she came so often because John would always be kicking around somewhere when the girl did visit.

I noted that when the girls were down, John was often accompanied by seemly endless string of different young companions. Whether, Kate had asked him to drag the poor wretches along or the boys themselves had requested an introduction to Tara, I do not know.

But apparently none of them received Tara's seal of approval. However, the following Easter on a family and friends so-called fishing expedition -- aboard 'Ottilie' -- my physician's son obviously did, because he and John suddenly became the very best of friends. I got a little concerned at that point, but Ottilie told me not to worry.

"Taylor, our daughter has had a very good demonstration of how to mess up your life in us two. You don't really think she'd do anything as silly as we did, do you?"

"Well, kids will be kids." I replied, "And teenagers do think that they know it all!"

"And young Mike is scared witless of Tara's father. Jesus, the way you looked at him when Tara told us that were going out together the first time... You could have given the little bugger a heart attack!"

When young John's at school -- college now -- Ottilie crews for me. Funny, but I never thought I needed a crew in the old days. To be perfectly honest, if she's got nothing else on, Ottilie crews for me whether John's there or not.

Well, I think that's about it. I appear to have turned into a Frank Thorn character, where my daughter's concerned; that -- I've been told -- is about par for the course. Luckily (for me) Tara's taken-up with a pretty sensible lad; well, he seems pretty sensible to me.

Sylvia and Mark moved their family to Cornwall a while back. They're not far away; close enough for Kate to spend most of her time with Tara, and Ottilie and Sylvia to share the school/college run, when I'm not available.

Mark works from home most of the time... I'm not too sure what he actually does though, something to do with computers as far as I can make out.

Bill Morris? Well, I took a little trip up country to visit him in prison. I can't say that he appeared too pleased to see me. Anyway, I kind-of pointed out to him that -- when he gets out next year -- visiting the southwest, would probably not prove be congenial to his continuing good health. I think he got the message, especially when I pointed out how much deep water we have surrounding the county.

Well, you have to be careful in those places. You don't know whether the authorities are listening in, or even recording your conversations.

Life goes on.