Chapter 3

They arrived at the Manchester Pub in Blackpool just after Seven at night, and walked in through the public bar.

When Karen’s father saw them he smiled at his daughter, then took a long hard look at Jon. From his face he wasn’t pleased at what he saw.

Karen led Jon behind the bar, hugged her Dad first and then her Mum, who had just walked through from the kitchen and introduced Jon to them. They shook hands all round, and her Mum, Irene and her Dad Frantisek, known as Frank.

“I hear you’re a hero Jon,” Irene said as she enfolded Jon in a warm hug, Frank just grunted.

“Come on,” Irene aid to them, let’s go upstairs out of Mr Grumpy’s way. She led the way through the kitchen and up a flight of stairs to the living quarters.

“I’ve put you in your own room Karen, and Jon in the best of the guest rooms. I’m sorry, if that’s not your normal sleeping arrangements, but I thought it best not to presume anything. Well that, and I don’t think Frank would be too happy if you shared. He’s of the school of thought that his daughter should remain a virgin until she’s in her forties.”

“No it’s fine thanks,” Jon said, “I wouldn’t want to cause any problems.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” Irene countered, “can I get you a drink?”

“Thanks,” Jon replied, “what have you got?”

Karen snorted.

“What?” asked Jon.

“Only you could sit in the living room of a pub and ask that question.”

John laughed.

“I suppose that was pretty daft,”

“Could I have a beer?”

“Of course you can,” Irene replied, “Karen could you be a love and run down and get one, and I’ll have a G & T and whatever you’re having.”

Karen waved her bandaged arm at her mother.

“Oh, sorry,” Irene apologised, “I’ll go.”

She disappeared downstairs and returned a couple of minutes later with a tray of drinks. As they sat and drank, they talked, about Jon’s career plans, Karen’s career plans and their prospects. Jon also found out that Irene knew about Karen’s sexual orientation, but that Frank didn’t.

“Doesn’t that cause problems for you?” he asked Irene.

“No he just sails along blissful in his ignorance,” she replied, “and of course, now you’re around, he can carry on like that,” Karen added.

They continued to talk about not much in general for the next half hour until Frank arrived upstairs.

“Oh,” Irene said, surprised to see him, “what are you doing up here?”

“I have just spoken to Belle, and she has a room for Jon at her place,” he said.

“What are you talking about Frank, he’s staying here,” Irene replied.

“No,” he insisted, “I will not allow that, who knows what they might get up to in the night.”

“Frank, don’t be stupid,” Irene insisted, “They’ll have separate rooms.”

“And what’s to stop him sneaking round like a thief in the night, once we’re asleep?”

“Irene,” Jon interrupted, “It’s OK, I don’t want to cause any problems, I’ll just go, can you give me the address?”

Luckily, his bag was still in the car.

“I’ll pick Karen up on Sunday evening to drive back to Edinburgh” he said, standing up and heading for the door.

“Hold on Jon,” Karen said, “I’m coming with you. If you’re not welcome here, I’m not.”

“There’s no need for you to leave Karen,” Frank said.

“Yes, there is,” Karen replied, taking my hand, “come on Jon, take me away from here, we’re not wanted.”

Frank opened his mouth to say something.

“I wouldn’t Frank, if I were you.”

We walked out of the pub and back to the car, where I opened the door for Karen, who burst into tears as she sat down.

I climbed into the driving seat and held her until she stopped.

“Ok, where to?” I said when she finished.

She gave me directions to Palatine Road, and I parked outside number 27.We got out, took the bags from the car and walked up to the front door. It opened as we reached it and the most impressive woman I’d ever seen greeted us.

“Aunt Belle,” Karen squealed as they hugged each other, “this is Jon Todd, my boyfriend.”

“Your Mum rang me dear. I’ve put you in the big room,” she said, “together.”

“What did Mum say?” Karen asked.

“That your dad was being his usual gracious self, and that you were on the way with Jon, and to ask you to go over for breakfast in the morning, both of you.”

“OK, but now, I think we’d like to get to bed, we had a long drive, and not too good a welcome.”

“Ok” Aunt Belle, replied, “I’ll see you both in the morning, do you want me to knock you up?”

“No thanks Auntie, I’ll let Jon do that,” Karen replied, “but tonight, I think we’ll just sleep.”

Which we did.

“You don’t have to knock dear, this is your home,” Irene said as she opened the door to Karen and Jon on Saturday morning.

“I thought I’d be polite, she replied. as she led Jon into the pub, “where’s dad?”

“He’s upstairs, come on let’s go up. Jon I’m really sorry about last night.”

“No need for you to apologise, Mrs. Kaliszewski” Jon replied, putting emphasis on the you.

Please Jon, would you call me Irene?”

“OK Irene.”

They all walked up the stairs to the living accommodation on the first floor.

Frank Kaliszewski stood as they walked into the living room.

“Good morning Princess,” he said, holding his arms out to his daughter.

“Good morning dad,” She replied, taking a firmer grip on Jon’s arm.

“Good morning Jon, welcome to our home,” he said, looking straight at Jon, “I want to apologise for last night. I should not have greeted you with the attitude that I did. I hope you can understand that I love my daughter, and was merely trying to protect her.”

“I appreciate that Mr. Kaliszewski, but you seem to have forgotten that she’s an adult, and capable of making her own life decisions.”

“I know, I know, and I can only promise that I will try to be a little less overbearing. Please join us for breakfast.”

They chatted over breakfast, about University, careers, family, friends, and other general topics

“So, Karen,” Irene asked, “what’s happened to that Sarah girl that you were friendly with?”

“It was Sarah who stabbed Karen,” Jon answered, “because she decided to share my flat with me.”

“So you and Karen are….” Frank let the question trail off.

“Not at the moment sir,” Jon replied formally, “Karen’s injuries would rule that out, quite apart from the fact that anything of that nature is Karen’s decision to make, certainly not mine.”

“You’re an unusual young man, Jon Todd, future surgeon.”

“Your daughter is a very special young lady sir.”

“She is that.”

“And I suspect your next question is going to be what are my intentions toward her?”

“No, actually, it was going to be do you love her?”

“Then that’s a yes. I’m not in love with her, but I do love her. I invited her to share my home, when I realised she was in an abusive relationship. I went up against that abuser, who was armed with a knife, to save her. I think that may qualify as love.”

“I think you may be right.”

“If you’re asking what I think you’re asking,” Jon continued, as I told you yesterday, what Karen and I do or don’t do together is between us. I’ll tell you this, I drink, in moderation, I play Rugby to let out my aggression and I don’t do drugs. In 5 years I’ll be a registered doctor, after that I’m going into surgery, preferably trauma surgery, after that, well, I haven’t really thought much beyond then yet. So if you’re asking about my intentions towards your daughter, they’re honourable, whatever that means. I won’t willingly and unnecessarily hurt her. I’ll protect her from harm as best I can and if in the future we have children together, I promise you, I’ll love them at least as much as you love Karen and Garry. Is that good enough for you?”

“That is all a father can ask for really.”

Jon stuck his hand out.

“Mr. Kaliszewski, I don’t know if we’ll ever be best friends, but I hope we can be friends.”

“Me too. And it’s Frank.”

“Thank you, Frank.”

Jon and Frank shook.

“Look after her Jon.”

Jon looked over at the subject of their conversation and smiled

“I’ll try.”

After breakfast they moved from the kitchen to the living room.

Jon and Karen sat side by side on the sofa, her parents on the single easy chairs either side of the room facing them.

“Tell us about the flat Jon has,” Irene suggested to Karen

“It has two bedrooms, Jon’s and now, I suppose mine.”

“You really do have separate rooms?” Frank asked.

“Of course, we’ve only known each other a week, and although we know there’s a connection, we’re not LIVING together. And yes Daddy, we are having sex. Or rather we were.”

“How are you managing the rent?” Irene interrupted, “you had to pay for the full year up front on the other place. Do you need some money?”

“It’s OK, Irene,” Jon reassured her, “the landlord is very accommodating like that.”

“Really?”

“The flat belongs to Jon’s grandfather, mum. There isn’t any rent. And I’ve got a job two days a week at a local pub. Or at least I had.”

“You still have, I talked to Mark.”

“When?” “

“Last night,” I told her, “He rang me, he’d heard on the grapevine about the trouble, and rang to find out what the situation was. I told him, he said not to worry, the jobs waiting for you when you get back to normal.”

“Normal!” Irene snorted, “Karen?”

Jon looked at her puzzled.

She just smiled. It was a ‘you’ll find out’ kind of smile.

“So what are you two’s plans for today?”

“Well, I’ve never been up the tower,” Jon said.

“Have you been to the circus?”

“No, I went to the tower zoo once when I was little with my mum and dad, and some of their friends. I wasn’t two yet and they lost me. They went searching all over and finally heard laughter coming from the ballroom. When they went in they found me. I had two sticks of rock, and was trying to eat both at the same time, one in each hand.”

“Now that’s what I call a balanced diet,” Karen interjected.

“Thank you. I was stood in front of the organ, I think the organist was Phil Kelsall, and I was conducting him with my sticks of rock.”

They all found the story really funny, and their laughter went on for a whole two minutes.

“That’s quite the musical debut.” Frank said finally.

“Are you musical, Jon?” Frank asked.

“Not so much these days. Uni keeps me busy, but I play percussion, and piano. I used to sing in the school choir.”

Karen plays saxophone,” Irene said proudly.

“You do? Do you have an instrument?”

“Yes, it’s in my bedroom.”

“Well, when we go to my parents next weekend, I’ll bring my Keyboard back with us. You bring your saxophone, and we’ll make beautiful music together.”

“Somehow, I don’t think you two will need instruments for that,” Frank mused.

About 11 a.m., Jon and Karen were getting ready to go out, when her brother Garry appeared in the living room.

“If you’re going to the tower, can I come with you?” he asked.

“I’m sure they don’t want you tagging along with them,” Irene objected.

“I don’t mind,” Jon answered, “if Karen doesn’t.”

“Ok little brother, you can come with us, but I’m in charge OK?”

“How about Jon?”

“Jon knows who’s in charge.”

“That’s true,” Jon smiled.

The three of them walked along the promenade until they reached the entrance to the Tower complex. Jon paid the entrance fees and they walked into the complex.

“So what first?” Jon asked, “Aquarium? Ballroom? Up the tower? Circus? Or Zoo?”

“Jon,” Karen said, gently, “they closed the zoo?”

“They did, when?”

“A few years ago when they opened the new Zoo in Stanley Park.”

“OK then, forget that option.”

“Aquarium,” Garry said.

“Karen?” Jon asked.

“Ok by me.”

They spent the next hour wandering round the aquarium, looking at all the different fish. Garry particularly liked the colourful tropical fish, and announced that one large fish, with bulging eyes and a constantly opening and clothing mouth looked just like his maths teacher at school. Which caused a fit of giggles all round. They went off to the tower café to get a drink, then queued for 10 minutes for the lift to the top of the tower.

One thing that Jon decided within seconds of stepping out onto the platform at the top, was that mid-November was not a good time to be at the top of s 530 foot steel structure, in the open. The day was quite warm for the time of year, but at that height, the wind bit, and it had sharp teeth. Luckily they were all wearing coats so it wasn’t too bad.

“You know what would be cool?” Garry asked.

“No, what?” Jon replied.

“If they replace these boards with glass and you could see down under your feet.”

“Oh, please,” Karen objected, “my flash is cringing just thinking about what’s below my feet, without having to see.”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe just a small area, with a path round for the faint of heart.”

“That’d be OK.”

“No,” Karen replied, visibly shrinking into herself, “not even that.”

“You know,” Jon said, changing the subject, “they say that on a clear day, you can see all four parts of the United Kingdom from here. And the Isle of Man.”

“Really?” Garry exclaimed, “where?”

“North to Scotland, East to England, West to Northern Ireland and Man, and South to Wales.”

“Cool, said Garry, “can we come back on a clear day?”

Jon chuckled, “Sure, mate,” and stuck out his hand to shake Garry’s.

A few minutes later they decided they’d had enough of freezing various body parts off and took the lift back down to a civilised temperature.

They decided to take a look at the ballroom and when they got there, an organ recital was going on, the organist was playing dance music and a few people were on the floor, tripping their own versions of the light fantastic. They stood for a few minutes listening until the music stopped.

“The organ sounds beautiful,” Karen whispered.

“It’s a lovely instrument, I’ve played a few, mainly in churches, it’s very impressive. Particularly if like I once was, you stand directly under the case, when the organist lets rip with a pedal low C on a double open diapason stop.”

“Was that English?” Garry asked, “it sounded a bit like when dad speaks Polish to me.”

“It’s an organ pipe, 32 feet long and plays very low notes. If you stand too near when it goes off, your whole body vibrates with it,” Jon explained.

“Next time you’re going somewhere where there is one, can I come too?” asked Garry, excitedly, “that sounds ace.”

“You play?” a baritone voice behind us asked.

“Yes, but not at that standard,” Jon replied, mainly piano, and I’ve twiddled about a bit on local church organs”

“Fancy having a go? He asked, gesturing towards the Wurlitzer on the stage.

“Er, yes, but like I said, I’m not the standard we just heard?”

“Are you a student?”

“Yes.”

“Music?”

“No, medicine.”

“Well then nobody will expect you to be the next Reggie Dixon. Come with me.”

On the way backstage, he introduced himself as Peter Newsome, assistant organist. When they arrived at the side of the stage, he asked Jon what he’d like to play.

“About the only thing I know by heart is the Tocata and Fugue.”

“Okay, there’s only a few people in, so it shouldn’t be too traumatic for your Tower debut.”

“Actually it’s not,” Karen said, then related the tale of the two sticks of rock.

Peter laughed at that, then stepped out on stage.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have an extra treat for you today,” he announced, “an artiste making his first appearance at the Tower for 17 years, although admittedly in a slightly different role.”

He went on to describe the rock incident, which got the small audience laughing.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, playing the great Johann Sebastian Bach’s Tocata and Fugue in D minor. Jonathan Todd.”

Jon walked out, sat at the console, adjusted the seat, cracked his knuckles and began to play.

There was light but enthusiastic applause when he finished and walked off the stage.

“You’re good,” Peter said, holding out his hand.

Jon shook it.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You should consider changing to music.”

“Nah, I’ve wanted to be a doctor all my life. Following in the old man’s footsteps.”