Henry's Car

Part 5

That evening, as planned my mother came round. Julia and my mother did not get on so it was the best way to keep Julia away, who was making threats to visit almost every evening, despite my protestations.

“Henry. This is my mother, Anna.”

“Verily an honour Mademoiselle!” Henry bowed very low, dressed as he was in his finest ermine and the rest of the clothes he’d had on the night we met. I’d had them all washed.

“Oo! Henry the Eighth. What a pleasure!” She was playing along with what she thought was a fine charade.

Mother was a cultured woman and not easily thrown off balance by theatrical games. She curtsied low.

“Some music perhaps Raymond? And some wine? What is that saying? “Good wine is a good familiar creature, if it be well used.”

“Oh do put on the Duran Duran Raymond. My favourite track?”

“The sound of the fretless bass came out of the speakers, over the top of the synthesizer and my mum got to her feet and started to spin. Henry looked non-plussed. He suddenly looked to me for help.

“What is this Raymond? A bagatelle perhaps?”

“It’s called pop-music. It’s modern. You won’t have heard anything like it before.” The comment was lost on my mother, who was too taken with her favourite song.

“Indeed.” He stood up hopefully and watched my mother’s moves for the rhythm.

‘Her name is Rio, and she dances on the sand...’ blasted out of the speakers.

“Oh Lord! May I not be undone!” he shouted, raising his eyes ceiling-ward and then commencing a gyrating dance of unknown origin; perhaps his own imagination. It didn’t quite fit the music but he seemed to have caught the rhythm. He took my mum’s hand and soon the two were twirling like young lovers at a new year’s party. I went to the kitchen to open a bottle of Bordeaux. Henry turned out to be a fascinating guest for my mum to entertain and after an Indian takeaway which Henry enjoyed immensely after some initial misgivings, we settled to play a few rounds of scrabble followed by bridge. I was ready for bed after three games,

“Do you want me to call Dad to pick you up, Mum?”

“No, I am fine Ray. Henry and I are fine. Is there any more wine? I will call your father when I am ready.”

“I thought it was a bit ominous when I heard the strains of Dark Side of the Moon, coming from downstairs when I was drifting off.

I awoke to the sound of my mobile vibrating on the little table next to my bed.

“Raymond! Ray!” Where is your mother?”

“Hi Dad. I don’t know. Isn’t she with you? She said she would call you. I went to bed early.”

“It doesn’t look like she came home. I went to bed at 11 o’clock and I fell asleep. Should I call the police?”

“Wait. Let me check downstairs.”

With half-open eyes, I felt my way down the stairs to the lounge. Lying on the floor, wrapped in all the spare blankets that I had was Henry. Wrapped in his arms, sleeping like a baby was my mother, with nothing on but one of my jumpers! What I could see of Henry, his massive shoulders was naked. I didn’t know who to speak to. I put the mobile on ‘private.’

“Mum! Henry!” They both opened their eyes, startled. Henry’s mouth widened in a cheesy smile. My Mum looked coy. I picked on her first, with a penetrating glare.

“Raymond. You cannot tell your father. He wouldn’t understand.”

“No. He wouldn’t! Don’t tell me you...?” She buried her face in Henry’s armpit. “Oh no. Henry, how could you?”

“Well, it just happened,” he replied, nonchalantly.

“I haven’t got time to get my head around this now. Dad is on the phone Mum, wondering what has happened to you. You will have to take it. Here!”

“Ronald? It’s me. Sorry dear. I was really tired and fell asleep on Ray's sofa. His guest is really nice and we stayed up so late talking!” It was a consummate bit of acting. She sounded really surprised.

“Yes, I will be soon and make your favourite breakfast. Raymond will call a taxi. Sorry dear. Bye!”

“You’re despicable Mum. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Well when love calls Raymond...”

“Love!”

That weekend there was another race-meeting and an amateur event that Dave and I entered Henry in. We didn’t take Julia. Henry wanted to take my mother but she couldn’t find a good enough excuse to leave Dad for the day.

“Okay Henry. We have borrowed this banger from a mate of mine. It had a blowout earlier and retired from his race but we can run in the amateur race.”

“Raymond! Thou art a marvel”

“Why does he talk like that?” said my friend’s mechanic.

“Oh don’t worry. He is an actor,” I whispered.

Henry finished the race, after hitting two barriers. I was quite impressed.

“Raymond!” He bear-hugged me. “That was a delight! The Camaro must me mine soon. When can I have it?”

“Err. No Henry. You can’t have the Camaro.” There followed a frothing of the mouth and stamping of 16th century Nike clad feet. I took quite some time to explain the concept of ‘no’ to the King but in the end I am not sure I succeeded.

“What you need is a car of your own.” I suggested.

“Truly Raymond. I do. What is the price? For a small one?” He looked at his fat fingers and twiddled one of the rings.

“Expensive. I don’t think a ring will be enough unless possibly... No, that’s impossible. I was thinking of the cygnet ring, the seal, but it must be in some museum somewhere.”

“Museum? Isn’t that something to do with the Muses? Your Latin is good my friend.”

“Never mind. What I mean is that your ring already exists here, somewhere else.”

“But how can this be?”

“I will explain sometime. Do you have anything else?”

“Yes. This!” Henry parted his silk chemise and pulled out a large gold medallion set with a ruby and on a long heavy gold chain.”

 

“Yes. Let’s try that.”