Why didn't you say so

Three stories connected by the title.

WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY SO?

 

FIRST STORY

Davinia had been preparing for the special dinner party for more than a month, and she was getting more and more anxious as time went by. The majority of her problems were due to the fact that she was in her late forties, and her waist line was not as small as it had been not so long ago. Her hair was beginning to show the first grey ones, and she knew she would have to do something about her eating habits pretty soon. The first signs that she was not thirty-five any more, had hit her when she saw her silhouette in a shop window, and wondered who on earth it was, and then with an enormous shock, recognized it was her. That had brought on an evening of utter depression, and a feeling of being let down by her body, and just about everything else in her life. Fortunately, her job still gave her some sort of satisfaction, and she liked shopping for clothes, which in the past two years showed that she was putting on weight, or at least centimetres, and the illusion that she had experienced before, was fading away. Davinia was still an avid member of her local gym, and she attended as often as she was able to. She had children, who led their own lives, and a husband who treated the home like a free hotel, by turning up when he felt like it.

 

Davinia was bored with her life at that point, and she had run through several ideas, till she came up with the dinner party. She wasn’t even very sure of the guests she wanted to invite, but in the end she made a list of those likely to attend. Davinia decided to tell those whom she saw every day, and send e-mails to the rest.

The lady who helped her in the house, Megan, was keen on helping out as much as she could. The house began with a deep clean in all the rooms, even though no one could imagine why that had to be done. After all, the guests would only see the dining-room and the downstairs cloakroom, as far as Megan was concerned there was no good reason to do so much cleaning, but she kept quiet on the subject and got on with the work. Megan cleaned a room every week and did surface cleaning in the rest of the house. That way, every room was maintained in tiptop condition.

As the party day approached, Davinia began to look at herself, and wonder why she was going out of her way to do something that in some ways made no sense to her. Then she realized it was her personal pride, to prepare all the food, and all the decoration, and learning, that spurred her on. Davinia had no desire to remain in the shadows till she took retirement. So, in spite of the tiring weeks leading up to the party, she put all her energy into the arranging of it. Apart from the spring-cleaning of the house, she started on cleaning up her appearance. She began on her hair and had a new cut and a lighter colour to help give her a younger look. It all worked, because everyone at work noticed it, and praised her on having a more youthful appearance.

A fortnight before the party, Davinia made a lot of phone calls inviting her guests, as well as sending e-mails to those she wouldn’t see. To those she worked with, she invited them personally.

“I’m having a dinner party on Saturday, the eighth of September, and I’d like you attend if you can.” To the recipient of the oral invite, she gave a street map of where she lived, in order to avoid mishaps. “This should help you find your way to my house. Please let me know if you can’t come.”

 

What Davinia didn’t understand was, that to have a dinner party on a Saturday evening was not the best of ideas, but never mind, she went ahead with the plotting and planning to make the evening a success. Her husband had been away during all the fuss and bother the dinner party had entailed, and had not the faintest idea what had been going on in the marital home. He spoke to Megan when Davinia was out. “Megan, what’s happening in this house, with all the cleaning and freshening up the paintwork?”

“The missus is preparing a dinner party for after the summer holidays when everyone is back at work. She’s been fixing everything up for ages now. It’s very important for her, and it’s given her something to do.”

“I thought she had enough to do with her job, without getting up to this kind of caper,” her husband said, feeling rather reproachful. Davinia hadn’t consulted him about having a dinner party at home. He wondered whether she had invited any of his friends or associates.

 

The evening eventually arrived, and all day Davinia was with her head in a spin. She checked up on e-mails to see if anyone was not going to turn up. But from what she saw, it would be a full house and as the evening grew closer, it looked more than promising. The invitation was for eight o’clock to sit down for the main meal.

 

As the clock went ticking the minutes off, by quarter past eight, Davinia knew that no one would be coming to her house that evening - after all her hard work!

 Davinia felt tearful and in a depression, switched off all the pots and pans and binned the lot - even the cold dishes.

She went into the bathroom, and heard someone knocking on the door.

It was one of her sons, who said, “Mum, I’ve got something to tell you.”

Davinia opened the bathroom door, and asked, “Well, what is it?”

Her son, Parris, said, “The people you invited said they couldn’t make it for this evening because they wanted to watch an important tennis tournament final on the television.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

Parris said, “You weren’t around, and I was going out with my friends. I told Dad, but it’s obvious he didn’t tell you either. Well, no harm done, eh?”

Davinia was afraid of saying anything, in case she regretted it later, but she promised herself that she would never invite anyone to the house again, and if her husband or children wanted anything from her, they wouldn’t be able to count on her.

At work on Monday, she remained mute and kept herself to herself. It was a pity, but there it was, for Davinia - a hard lesson to learn at a difficult time in her life.

 

SECOND STORY

Christmas festivities were well and truly over, when Arden and Clarissa began talking about the summer holiday destination. They didn’t have only themselves to think about, but they had two children to consider too. The house was soon taken over by travel brochures. As far as they knew, there would be no problems with paying for a good time. Both parents were employed and there didn’t seem any likelihood of being made redundant in the near future. To get everyone to agree on going to the same place wasn’t easy, and Arden kept putting off making any decision. Adam, their son, spoke to the boys at school and asked them where they were going in the summer. There was no hard and fast rule about summer holiday destinations. Adam rather fancied working in the summer with one of his friends, whose father had a restaurant. He had the idea well and truly fixed in his head, that waiting tables was easy. Adam’s friend soon dispelled that notion from his head.

Deborah, their daughter, wanted to go away with her friends and have what she considered a good time. Her parents were not convinced by her arguments, so she didn’t pursue that line of argument for very long.

Easter was wet and cold, and Arden’s family reminded him that summer wasn’t far off, and that he ought to begin planning the summer holiday seriously, otherwise they might not have a holiday at all.

Feeling that he was being pressurised, Arden sat up one night, and went through every brochure there was in the house. At last, when he was well fed up with looking at glamorous photos of far away places, he settled for a fortnight’s stay in a rustic house in Spain. He didn’t say anything about the booking, because he wanted to give them a surprise.

Easter passed on to warmer weather, and the family persisted in asking about whether or not he had booked a holiday. Arden told Clarissa that he had booked something, but not what it was. He went investigating the holiday itself, to make sure there were no tricks of any kind. As far as he could see, everything was aboveboard. The holiday was for the last fortnight in August, when everything is tired, and people are on their way home. The sun is still hot, but it is stale, and the enthusiasm of those who work in the tourist industry is on the wane. Arden thought all about that, but still went ahead.

 

Arden saw on his mobile and the television, that flight delays could be counted on for certain, due to air traffic controllers striking and baggage-handlers too. So he just shrugged his shoulders and gave the information no more attention.

 

On the day of departure, the family filled the boot of their car with luggage, and set out for the airport. The road that led to the airport was crowded with like-minded people, who just had one thing on their minds, and that was to get away. The main road was a moving carpet of vehicles, all tidily one behind the other, till someone decided otherwise, and made a mad dash for a gap in the line causing disruption, and traffic police arriving, and trying to sort things out, in order to keep the traffic moving, before the drivers got more irate than they were already.

The brother and sister were on their mobile phones in the back of the car, texting and speaking to their friends. The airport was right ahead of them and the long line of cars moved as slowly as it was possible to move. At the entrance to the airport car park, they passed through a pay-slot and entered. The two in the back were pushed back into reality when Arden said, “Now you can put those things away, we’ll be going through customs soon, and we need to look lively and your mother and I can’t keep asking you to get off those phones. OK?”

The family removed their luggage from the boot and walked into the airport. “Dad, there are a lot of people here. It doesn’t seem normal to me,” Adam said to his father.

A voice came over the loudspeakers informing the waiting passengers that, due to strikes there would be delays in taking off that day. Arden and Clarissa found two seats for the children, who were happy to be able to scroll through their mobiles and look at their iPads.

They went up to the monitors to check out the conditions of the flights. Beside every one there was the word ‘delayed’, and no further information. They joined a queue at the information desk, where everyone was told, “You’ll have to keep your eyes on the monitors.”

“That’s not very helpful, is it?” Clarissa said. “Wasn’t there any news about the strikes on the television?” she added.

“You watch television more than me, so I could ask you the same,” declared Arden.

“There was a lot of talk about strikes, and whether a solution to avoid them could be found before the end of the month. Seemed like it was just a lot of talk as usual, but nobody informed us, otherwise I’d have tried to change our holiday destination for another one,” Arden said, sounding fed up.

“Why didn’t you say so at the time, to me at least?” Clarissa asked.

“You know how it is, the strikes are sometimes called off at the last moment,” Arden said, defending his attitude.

The family sat in the main hall eating the food they had taken with them as a snack before taking off. More and more people were arriving at the airport, to be informed about the strikes. It appeared that nobody had believed that such a thing could happen to them on the first day of their holiday. There were a lot of scowling faces, and complaining women, and crying children. The cafes and bookstalls were doing a good trade, as also were places with prepared foods, such as sandwiches and crisps and ice cream. Nobody would go hungry while waiting for further information about their holiday flights. Adam said to Arden, “Dad, there aren’t any planes taking off. They’re just standing on the tarmac.”

Arden responded, “Wait here while I try to find out what is actually going on here today.”

The information was worse than before, and was made worse when an incoherent voice announced over the loudspeakers, saying, “The airport is to be closed, due to information received that there will be no flights taking off today. The situation is beyond our control, so we advise you to spend the night in one of the airport hotels, or if you live near, then go home. Please keep in touch by e-mail. We’ll be doing our best to make sure that you’ll all be out of here on the first flights tomorrow. You will all be informed when the airport will be reopened.”

The general reaction of the disappointed passengers was understandable. They were losing out on their holiday, which they had paid for in advance, and would now have to pay for a night in an hotel. Everyone got busy on their mobiles in an effort to book an hotel room. Arden, Clarissa, and the children left the airport, and Arden rang the hotel nearest the airport.

He was lucky and they were given a room for four. The hotels near the airport did a roaring trade that night. The airport did the hotels a favour by closing for the night, and not allowing anyone to sleep overnight in the main hall. Every cloud has a silver lining, were the words that went through the heads of the hotel managers. Because there were so many rooms needed, whole families were being bunched up together in one room, but at least they slept more comfortably than if they had stayed in the airport.

“If only we had known about how serious the strikes were going to be, we could have changed the holiday dates,” moaned Clarissa.

Arden said, trying to hide his frustration and anger, “It won’t happen next year, because we’ll be staying at home. I’d rather have spent all this money on new furniture or send the children on a sports holiday.”

“It would certainly be cheaper, and we could go for days out, and sleep in our own beds at night,” Clarissa added.

“Dad, why didn’t they tell us they were going to shut the airport for the night?” Adam asked his father.

“They didn’t say anything because they didn’t know for sure what was going to happen re the strikes. The airport management was arranging a decent outcome.”

 

When the hotel lobby was full and everyone had been allocated a room, the manager said, “Good evening everyone. The expenses for your stay will be covered by the airline insurance. Please feel free to enjoy yourselves while you are here. Tonight’s meals and tomorrow’s breakfast are also paid for. If anyone has a complaint, the staff will be happy to attend you.”

After the short speech by the manager, the overall anxiety that had been felt all day long disappeared. The thought of a free room with all mod cons, plus dinner, and breakfast, cheered everyone up.

Arden and family entered their room, and Deborah jumped onto one of the single beds, “This one’s mine,” and began sending out messages to her friends.

“I think a quick wash and brush up, and down to dinner. I’m starving,” Arden told his wife.

Clarissa went into the bathroom, and came out wearing fresh make-up. The family took the lift down to the dining-room.

Meanwhile, the hotel manager rang his friend in the airport, “Thanks for so many visitors. How long will the hotels have to wait to be paid?”

“Not long, I don’t suppose. You might have more visitors tomorrow, depending on the outcome of the strikes.”

“Why didn’t you say so before?” the manager said.

 

THIRD STORY

The ambulance travelled through the streets as fast as it could, blaring its siren all the way. The road along which it was travelling, was already overcrowded by other vehicles of all sizes, and there was no space left to let the ambulance pass by. Nevertheless, hearing the frantic sound of the siren, somehow or other the traffic was able to move over, creating enough space. When the ambulance had gone ahead, every vehicle moved back to it s own place in the crowd. The ambulance went roaring along street after street, till it arrived at a hospital.

The ambulance stopped, and the doors were opened to reveal a body on a stretcher with a drip attached. The hospital doors were opened too, and the patient was rushed inside.

The thirty-eight year old woman lying on the stretcher was called Peyton, and she was in an anaphylactic coma. All her life, Peyton had suffered from an allergy to any kind of nuts. They were poison for her. Even trace nuts were a problem and, due to her reservation about speaking of the allergy, she had been called anti-social. Fortunately, she was of good character, and kept it to herself. Inside her handbag was an EPiPEN, for her to use when she felt an attack coming on.

 

Peyton was afraid of eating out, especially in restaurants where the food was highly seasoned and the sauces contained nuts or trace nuts. Once, she had experienced an attack that had been strong enough to have her hospitalized. The local health authorities had discovered traces of nuts in the utensils used in the preparation of certain dishes. The restaurant in question had previously declared that they didn’t have any kind of nuts in their food, which of course was a complete lie.

 

Sometimes friends and boyfriends could be a nuisance. Peyton didn’t relish the idea of her allergy being made public. She thought that if she wanted people to know, then she would be the one to inform them. The smell of nuts was abhorrent to her, and once she had thrown up at a party for that very reason.

 

Peyton was seeing a new man called Talbot, who was physically the ideal of many women. He was tall, dark, and good-looking. Peyton had been out with him on a few dates, and one thing she had never mentioned was her allergy to nuts.

Talbot was a man desirable to many women, and one of them desired him above all else. She went by the name of Lynette. Peyton was in total ignorance of Lynette’s existence. Lynette had an agenda which included catching Talbot for herself, whereas Peyton had no plans or agenda.

Talbot liked Peyton, but found her reserve a bit off-putting at times.

Lynette wanted to eliminate Peyton from Talbot’s life.

 

One day, at a party where the trio coincided, Lynette found Peyton’s EPiPEN in her handbag. She knew what she could do to put Peyton out of the way. Peyton was, as usual, unaware of theft. Lynette wasted no time, and got some ground nuts from a bowl on a table and sprinkled them on Peyton’s plate of food. Peyton was talking to friends and drinking fruit juice. They all sat down at a small table to eat and Peyton collapsed and searched in her handbag for her EPiPEN.

 

Someone rang for an ambulance, and Lynette absented herself from the party before Peyton lost consciousness.

 

The registrar at the hospital looked in Peyton’s handbag for her EPiPEN. “Where is it? She’s down as a high-risk patient. It’s impossible she would go out without it.”

The paramedic said, “We looked for it everywhere, even in her pockets. The people at the party had no knowledge that she had a nut allergy.”

Peyton had an oxygen-mask placed over her face to help her breath, and a drip containing fluids.

 

Her parents arrived at the hospital to see her, and were shocked that her EPiPEN had gone missing.

“When can she come home?” her mother asked.

“Probably in a few days, we’d like to get her stabilized beforehand,” the doctor said.

 

The party was over when Peyton was taken to hospital. Talbot did a disappearing act, as well as Lynette, who binned the EPiPEN. She got frightened that she might have committed murder. Once faced with that possibility, she removed herself as far away as she could.

 

One day, a long time later, when Peyton’s allergy attack was no longer news, Talbot was talking to a friend about the incident at the party, and asked, “Why didn’t she say so?”