Jack started to grumble as soon as he reached the station car-park. It was unusually full that dark and wet morning and he had leave his car a good 50 metres from the cash machine. Collar and umbrella up, he splashed his way to pay, scurried back to the car, put the ticket in the right place and ran to the entrance as his train drew up. Of course it was crowded and he had stand up for fifty minutes in the puddle from his umbrella. It was not the best start to his day.
He told himself that he’d had enough. It was time to retire. He meant it. He’d see Human Resources today. He could be a man of leisure doing what he couldn’t do in the last thirty years. He’d travel without being tied to a timetable; sleep-in with no 7.42 train to catch; dine earlier than the customary 8 pm; spend more time with Marian if she could be persuaded to stop teaching; visit their far-flung children and their families; learn the violin and read some of his books.
**
Now, five years later he’s more pushed than ever. Look at them now. It’s Sunday morning at the breakfast table. They’ve enjoyed their fruit salad, full English carbo-hydrated grill and fresh coffee. It’s already ten o’clock but who cares? It’s taken them an hour so far and they’ve barely started on the day’s crosswords.
“Before we get too involved we’d better check our diaries for the week,” she says.
Jack dutifully puts The Guardian aside and opens his week-to-view planner.
Marian puts on her glasses. “I have the Gentlewomen’s Guild Lunch tomorrow.”
“I’ll be at the PROBUS meeting – men only, and I’ve said that we’d both be at the Town Council meeting to fight the new development plans.”
By the time they got to the following Saturday with its Mayor’s Charity Dinner their diaries were full.
“I want to see the latest Spielberg film,” she said. “What about the following week?”
Just as bad. Jack has the bird-watching Club. Between them they have the Cricket Club dinner and dance; a school governors meeting; tree-planting for the rewilding project; a planned walk over Tuxford Hill. It goes on. Marian has a dental appointment and Jack really ought to see Doctor Pearson about his sciatica.
“Luckily, Speilberg is on at the Reel for three weeks,” she says. “What about the Thursday the 16 th ?”
“Looks good, let’s book it.” He opens his smartphone.
The house-phone buzzes. Marian hurries to answer. A few words and she’s back,
“Would you believe it, that was Martin Hawk. He wants us to join the Grey Squirrel and Pigeon Protection Society inaugural shindig on the 16th at 7 oclock.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said you’d be there but I had an appointment with Stephen.”
“Call him back and tell him I hate squirrels and pigeons and it would be beyond the call of duty for me to be involved.”
