Freda's
Story
by Misty Pond
Freda
sat down at the kitchen table and shook off her gardening gloves and boots.
She was out of breath ~ he'd been heavier than she'd thought.
She stood up and plugged in the kettle, then settled down with a cup of
her favourite lapsang suchong. Well, after many months of planning she'd
finally done it ~ forked Bert into the silage. He wouldn't have suffered,
she mused, sipping her tea, after the number of diazepam she'd dissolved
into his cocoa.
Freda
made more tea, deciding upon Earl Grey this time, and opened a pack of
chocolate biscuits. She'd carefully made a list of things to do, which
she now took from her apron pocket. She ticked-off the first item, leaned
back in her chair and indulged in a few minutes of nostalgia.
She
was 20 years younger than Bert and had married him when she was 16. This
had been to please her parents. She'd "somehow or other" had
a baby girl whilst studying for her O-levels, and her parents had insisted
that she must marry the first suitable man she met, for reasons of propriety.
Freda giggled when she thought of this. She'd named her baby Lorna, because
she'd been studying "Lorna Doone" for O-level English Lit. Freda's
parents had brought Lorna up as their own, and she was now happily married
and living in New Zealand, with 3 children and another on the way. Freda
smiled as she recalled how she'd managed to keep all this a secret from
Bert, but at the same time keeping in close touch with Lorna.
She
looked again at her list of things to do, rang a taxi and went into Felpersham,
returning some hours later with a new hair-style, a sleek ash-blonde bob,
and dressed in a pin-striped trouser-suit. She carried numerous carrier
bags bearing the names of well-known department stores. Freda paid the
taxi driver and smiled in satisfaction as she thought of all her years
slaving away in the Bull kitchens and goodness knows where else, and how
she'd managed to save every penny. Bert had been a kind and generous man.
For a brief moment Freda paused, wondering whether she'd done the right
thing, then shook the thought away with a toss of her ash-blonde head.
Once
inside, Freda took out the "to do" list and laid it on the kitchen
table, carefully ticking off the items one by one. She took her suitcases
from under the bed and packed them swiftly with her new purchases. She
checked her handbag for the new passport, currency and other documents
she might need ~ yes, all present and correct. Freda had made sure that
her passport gave her correct name ~ Frederica ~ her mother was Danish.
She sighed as she remembered that it had been Bert who named her Freda,
saying that Frederica was "a bit highfalutin" for the likes
of him.
There
remained just one item left of the list. Freda rang David Archer and told
him to go ahead and put Woodbine Cottage up for sale immediately, as she
and Bert had made "other arrangements". As an afterthought Freda
also tendered Bert's resignation from his job at Brookfield, on his behalf.
After
putting down the telephone, Frederica picked up her luggage, and without
a backward glance went out to the waiting taxi, the tickets for Auckland
clutched tightly in her hand.
