She Was Always Daddy's Girl
"Kath, does Lydia ever say much about me?"
That was the question which kicked everything off and although I had no idea at the time was to lead to a lot more than I could ever have envisaged. I had to think for a few moments. We were watching some old snippets from Morecambe and Wise shows and obviously even though I was finding them hilarious it was obvious Desmond had his mind on something else although he had laughed now and again as well. I had concluded that he wasn't really enjoying the programme and had been about to ask did he want a change when he posed the question.
"She always mentions you when she phones yes, tells me what you're all up to but usually it's about the girls naturally enough. She always tells me when you're due over of course but no, not a lot more. Why do you ask, is there something she hasn't mentioned?"
"Oh, no, just wondered."
The comedians took over again and I had forgotten all about his question when the next one came.
"Would she tell you if there was something wrong?"
I was forced to re-focus.
"Desmond love, is there something the matter? Yes, I expect she would tell me she if there was something wrong, but is there? Are the girls alright, school, are they in trouble, is someone ill, she would surely have told me if there was a real problem?"
"No, no Kath don't worry, really, there's nothing like that, it's nothing."
I put off the television.
"Desmond, now listen, there's something bothering you and you've got me worried whether you think it's nothing or not. Now will you tell me please, should I ring Lydia and ask her what's going on?"
"No, there's honestly nothing for you to be concerned about. I just wondered did she talk much about me when you two are chatting, that's all really. Don't worry, put it out of your head."
"Alright but promise me that you will tell me if there is something. You've been quieter than usual this trip and despite what you say I think there's something not right somewhere. I'll listen if something's worrying you so promise me you'll keep it in mind. Now, it's my bedtime.'
I leaned over and hugged him as I passed his chair and when he raised his head kissed his cheek. I took his hand. "Now remember, tell me."
"I will Kath, I promise." He pressed my hand and returned the kiss. "I'm going to bed as well, I'd need to be away fairly early tomorrow."
I finished in the bathroom and had undressed to my underwear as he passed my bedroom door. I was in mid struggle with my girdle just at that moment and looked up as he glanced in.
"Night my love." I said as he stopped for a few seconds and I was certain his eyes had taken in every inch of my body in that short time, my breasts were bare but it wasn't something that bothered me really, he was after all my son in law and what he saw wouldn't exactly have inspired admiration or anything else for that matter. I shouldn't have left the door so far open in any case.
"Night Kath, sleep tight."
Next morning early I was stirring a pan of porridge at the stove when he came downstairs.
"Looks like another lovely start Des, where are you going today?"
"It's Stansted for most of the day Kath." As he passed behind me he gently pressed each side of my hips playfully and laughingly said. "Did you have as much of a struggle getting back into your girdle as you had getting out last night."
"Oh dear it is a bit of a struggle but it's better than those awful corset things we used to wear years ago, it was like being trussed up all day."
"Why do you bother, it's not as if you're going anywhere special or needing to get into posh clothes or something, sure you could leave it off, who's going to notice?"
"You're right, it's vanity I suppose and women of my age or at least my generation sort of have it in their heads that you need to look as trim as possible. There comes a time when no matter what you do things go south or east or west instead of staying put and no matter how hard you try just won't get back where they should be."
"Well I don't know what it's all about, as far as I can see there's not a lot out of place and anyway most folks these days pay no attention to stuff like that, they're able to accept other people for what they are and just get on with things. It's different for youngsters I suppose who have to look as smart and they can in so called high powered jobs, there'll be dozens around the airport today no doubt and they'll have spent hours getting themselves ready, it's all a bit daft as far as I can see. You look fine, really, you look grand and once you get under way again with the bowling and the other stuff you're into everything will improve anyway I bet."
Des had been a real support while my husband had been ill the final time and was able to be here more often which meant we could visit hospital each evening and towards the end he was able to transfer his work here to work from home as it were and stayed almost a month across the time of Robert's death and funeral. Lydia had brought the children when she could but even though they lived just thirty miles from Calais and it was roughly the same to my home on this side it was awkward with the girls at school and all in all it was a hard time for everyone. I hadn't been able to face the bowling club and the art classes and a load of other things I had got caught up in but it's been a long time now and I'd allowed myself to get out of the way of it all, the new season had started and I intended to bowl again. Des was right, it would make a difference to be fully occupied and maybe the girdle could actually disappear.
"I'll be back around five Kath as long as the traffic doesn't go daft although I should be able to finish up pretty sharply. I'll be back there tomorrow in any case so things can wait over."
"Good, well it's your favourite tonight, so it can all go on when you arrive and if there's any hold up it'll not matter."
"I'll look forward to that all day now, ok, I'm off, see you later and have a nice day to yourself."
He kissed my cheek and circled my waist with one arm.
"You see, look, I can almost get one arm right around you, you don't need a girdle." His fingers squeezed into my waist making me wince and giggle and as my bottom pushed into him in avoidance, he put his other arm around me as well.
"It does feel better with two arms right enough and you're just right, your're not fat and your're not thin, just right, built for comfort Kath, couldn't be better." and he gave me another squeeze and pat on my bottom."I'll see you later."
That day, each time I passed a shop window or a mirror I found myself trying very hard to see what Des had seen but each time it appeared to be a pensioner, steadily pushing through her seventies, hair no longer greying but actually grey all over with only a few straggling hairs of it's original black hiding here and there. Strange I thought how there is still more black than grey in my bush, although that is changing fast as well. Isn't it strange the thoughts that cross your mind over the course of a day. How many more people are gazing into shop windows across this town, looking at books and clothes and shoes but actually contemplating the colour of the hair between their legs. I turned away smiling, and it became an even broader smile when I decided....every single one probably.
The same elderly lady gazed at me again from various other windows and each stop did nothing to divert the feeling of things having gone too far. Not only having gone too far but too far in one direction.....south....downwards. There is a definite sag to my bottom or is it just this dress, my belly despite the girdles valiant efforts is obvious and it's also obvious where it's going. Breasts, well they do have a mind of their own and they provide a perfect example of multi directional movement. I've been too lazy and apathetic to actually get fitted for a bra or at least get measured and advised by someone who knows how to tame bosoms which have lost much of their natural support. They are still shapely and full but now there appears to be so much more movement and I do see approaching gentlemen and I must say quite a number or woman who appear to notice my sway from a distance and it is only at the last moment as we pass that their stare moves from my chest to my face and either their obvious incredulity becomes a smile or a lift of the eyebrows and perhaps a mumbled greeting. Des Had noticed though, I'd seen that.
I don't care I tell myself on these occasions but I know I do. Why? I'm not sure, it's not to impress anyone, it's not to please anyone or try to keep someone's interest. It's the feeling or more honestly the acceptance of having given in, of deciding there is little point in carrying on with the struggle and that ends up as disappointment and frustration and probably the refusal to have a tray bake with my coffee when I meet Mavis Atherton later that morning and then back home and on comes the Archers and I decide that another cup of tea and a few chocolate digestives won't make a big lot of difference, just too easy but anyway, what's the point?