Waiting for the Flyers Part 5: The Family Moot.

The big house had everything befitting the great family that once owned it. In the final weeks I’d spent a lot of (painful) time in the gym with Junior building muscle and practising walking with a stick. After almost three months I was ready to go home. It was time for the family meeting. It took place one morning in the lounge of the big house. Doc Sophie and Junior insisted I should not leave the mansion until after the meeting and they were present, “just in case.”

While I waited for my children to arrive I recall the atmosphere in the room preceded them. Doc. Sophie and Junior were first to arrive. Concern and apprehension dictating their demeanour. They fussed around me making sure I was comfortable in a grand looking chair they chose for me. Sophie checked my blood pressure and ran her hands over me feeling for any stress of pain. I assured them I felt fine.

The door opened and they filed in. Rachael of course leading them. Not everyone was there. Terry and Alex were missing along with three of the girls.

‘You’ll see them later.’ Rachael replied to my implied question.

They found chairs and placed themselves around me, each one studying me in their own way. It made me nervous. I felt oppressed. I’ve never been one to hold back and I always encouraged my people to be straight with me and each other. The invisible cloud in the room was giving me the shits – as I remember Brenda used to say when she was angry with five year-old me.

‘Alright, what’s been happening? Something’s up. Spit it out.’

‘Ma, we’re just concerned about you. You’ve been through so much and an awful lot has happened while you were recovering. There’s a lot to catch up with . . . we don’t think you should be handling this all at once. We need to take on some of your burden.’  

‘BS, Alan. Of course I need your help, but this sounds more like you want me to step back.’

Alan looked at his siblings almost asking for a guidance. There was a faint nod from Rachael. and Sophie.

‘There’s been a major development, Ma. People have been found . . . alive.’ The last word almost whispered.’

‘Jess wants to live in Burnalham.’ Janey blurted, disgust in her voice, ‘ he’s moved into a big house on the edge of the village. He’s taken people with him and that odd girl, Heather? She wants to live in that church thing. She’s obsessed with the place. It’s not right with Rachael being—‘

The others shushed Janey, but it was out. Rachael could deal with it. It wouldn’t be a problem, but at thirty-nine she’d need full support from Sophie. I think I said as much right then. I needed to think.

‘Forget Jess. Let him have his fun, but keep a lid on it. How many went with him?

‘Couple of the lads in his shooting group. Terry and Fred have set up there to try to change his mind.

‘Tell ‘em not to bother, but they should stay there, find a decent place to stay and keep an eye on things.’

‘That’s already decided, Ma. We’ve got a group over there fanning out our searches. The information we're getting from the old people we found is very useful.’

‘Good thinking, Alan. The old people? Where are they?

‘Under my care, Ma. In the clinic. They’re pretty weak.’

‘How many, Sophe?’

‘Three. A man and a couple of women. He seems to be their leader. We found them in a building called a residential home. They’d been looking after themselves. Apparently they all lived in there together. I dunno how they managed to survive. None of them are under eighty-five.’

The kids were right. I wasn’t fully recovered. Already the meeting was making me feel tired. I forced myself to admit it would never be the same from now on. They were going to have to take over a lot of stuff. I could see myself pretty much confined to our estate.

The family would have to run things with me in the background perhaps gently guiding them. Not only that. They were approaching middle age. There was a need to bring their kids on and also pick out members of the community to get involved. I never wanted a hierarchy, but it was necessary to work out a more formal structure. I suspected they’d already started working on that. I made a note go through that with them as the days wore on. Clearly we had to avoid another Jess situation.

‘The old man. I want to meet him, Sophe.’

‘I will ask him if you can visit him when he’s strong enough.’

‘If he got this far he’s strong enough. Bring him here. I’ll stay here. I’ll meet him in this room.’

At 2.30 the same afternoon, after my rest sleep, I waited in the lounge for the man they called David Walsham to arrive.