Novela da jornada da restauração de Yvonne ❤️ Capítulo 3

Chapter 3
“Kismet?”

As I look back on my life, I realize that when I met Ian I was still a child, but the “then-me” was confident that I was all grown up and ready to take on the world and the adventure it held. My first day in the new building in the mid-city of my hometown was scary and exciting at the same time. It was not a fancy building, in fact, it was kind of drab and looked old and grey and if you walked past the alley that was adjacent to the building, it smelt a bit like urine and garbage. Yet I was ready for this adventure in our police service. I was just on the administrative side, not a functional member of the service. My mom would have killed me if I was, as it is, she was not very happy with me because she herself was uncertain what the job would entail. 

As I was walking down the hallway of the second-floor building, where my new office was that I was sharing with 3 others, I walked right past Ian. He was standing with one hand resting on his gun holster and his other hand rubbing his chin like he was in deep thought. A look I now know is the one he uses when he is thinking of something, but back then with his long sleeve shirt rolled up in such a cliche way, my first thought of him was 'arrogant'. I was always friendly so I smiled at him and he gave me a half-smile and nodded his head. 

I was enjoying the work I was doing and soon I was seen as a hard worker and got more responsibilities. At times I would run into Ian in the mornings in the office a very kind Warrant Officer who we all fondly called, Uncle Pete. I passed his office in the morning on the way to mine. Sometimes I would stop and chat, but I did not really talk to Ian a lot because I was very shy and unsure how to approach him. I do need to tell you that later I heard from someone he shared an office with that he said to her when I was passing the office, “You see that girl? I am going to marry her.” By then we had not really spoken a word to each other, but he knew he was going to marry me. I was just enjoying life and enjoying the freedom of earning my own money and not being bound to school anymore. 

At that time Ian was sitting in the office across from me but I was preoccupied with my new job and did not really take much notice of him. Then he moved to an office around the corner where the photocopier was situated. Whenever I made copies, he would be the perfect gentleman, always helping me out if I had trouble with the machine or if the paper or ink needs to be replaced, which is always a nightmare with government property. In these times we would always chat. Nothing serious, books, movies, music, the usual things. We both had a love for music, books, museums, and knowledge. That was probably the thing that attracted me the most to Ian, he could talk about almost anything. He had knowledge of so many things. A fun and very weird fact I learned about him later, was that wait, I think I must first say, back then we did not have the internet available packed full of knowledge like we have today. We had to do it old school by searching for what we wanted to know in books and libraries. Usually, to do a school project, households had encyclopedias instead of having a computer with internet access. For those who are younger, our encyclopedias were similar to Wikipedia, in book form, with the information listed from A-Z with an Index in the back to find what you are looking for. With that quick history lesson done, Ian read a whole set of encyclopedias, learning everything from A-Z. I am talking about thousands of pages of knowledge that he absorbed over the years, just for fun! 

Within a few weeks of me working there, Ian asked: “Would you go have coffee with me at lunchtime?” I answered, “Yes, that would be nice.” I did like his conversation and so I went with him for coffee. It felt a bit awkward for a moment like I always do in restaurants and coffee places. I would always be the one to spill something, but as soon as we started to talk, all awkwardness faded and we just enjoyed each other’s company. Oh, by the way, we both had a love for coffee as well, which is why I did not think much of his invitation at the time because he would take a lot of the girls out for coffee. 

Later I found out that Ian had wanted to ask me out, but it was easier to take me for coffee around the corner at lunchtime than it was asking me on a date. That would be way more official, so he played around with the subject, asking me my favourite movies and what was showing at the time. Being who I am, the movie I wanted to see was Jurassic Park 2 and that’s how Ian asked me out on our first date, taking me to the movies. 

Instead of him picking me up at home, we decided it would save time if we went directly from work. We would drive to the movies, buy a ticket and then go out for dinner before the movie. This later became a habit for us on an almost weekly basis. Although I don’t remember what I had on that day, I made sure to dress for a date, but I still remember Ian was wearing an olive green polyester jacket with his sleeves tucked up as far as the cuff would allow. His shirt was black, which always suited his darker skin colour and eyes. When we sat in the movies and I felt his arm right next to mine, that was the moment I knew I was smitten and absolutely, irrevocably in love with the man I knew I was going to marry. But of course, he was a gentleman and I was very far from being an angel. 

From that moment, I knew that this was meant to be especially when you consider the way I got the job at the police department. If I explain this to you, you will understand that my meeting with Ian was definitely not coincidental. Let me tell you and you can make up your own mind, okay? 

I grew up in a home with four older siblings, yes we were five children, and my mother was the sole breadwinner and had to care for us on a very meager salary. I don’t want to say we grew up poor, because living in the country we do, there were many more people worse off than we were. My older siblings do sometimes talk of a time when we had no food in the house, but being the youngest of the five, I grew up in a better time. I remember that I may not get what I wanted or have what my friends had, but I never remember going to bed hungry. My mom divorced my dad when I was only 3 years old, strange that it is the same age my daughter was when my marriage fell apart. I grew up shielded from all the things my siblings went through after my mother finally had enough of my dad’s drinking and divorced him. What I did not escape was the aftermath and this spilled over into all the areas of my life, but that story is also for later. 

I was naturally good at school and if I would have actually worked hard I would have gotten a bursary, a scholarship to study further, but I just did what was needed to do to satisfy my mom. So, without the funds, I had to start working at a bookstore and then start studying. Well… that was supposed to be the plan. As you know, once you join the workforce, it rarely happens. 

For most jobs you needed to have a grade twelve certificate, but I found this job even before I got the results of my final exams telling me that I was done with school. This was only temporary work at a bookstore, which I enjoyed very much and it is just so awesome that later in life I have the opportunity to even work with the publishing of books. That was years later but at the time…

My mom phoned me at work, which she does not do at all so already I was worried when I heard it was her. Even before she said hello, I knew I was in deep trouble. Thinking back to the previous weekend, I started wondering if she could smell that I was drinking, which as I said, I did every weekend. I quickly ran through a lot of scenarios to figure out why she will be scolding me at work for this and not waiting till I get home. What she did say totally baffled me. 

“Yvonne, how could you do this to me? How could you do this without even telling me? Working for the police!? Are you crazy? Why did you apply? Worst of it is, you applied at their firearm department? Do you know how I feel about firearms!? Do you remember what happened to your friend because her dad was careless with his firearm?” All of this came out of the blue besides, I had no idea what she was even talking about. All except for remembering my friend. I still remember her little 7-year-old lifeless body dangling from her mom’s arms after we heard the shot go off and the screaming, and before my mom had a chance to turn me away the picture was etched in my little mind. 

“Calm down Mom, there must be a mistake somewhere. I did not apply for any job at the police department.” I tried to make sense of it all while hearing my mom on the other side, “How did they get your name and number then. You’re lying to me.” As I continued trying to convince her that I was telling the truth because her questions were valid, I wondered, “How did they come to get my information?”

In the end, my mom gave me the number on the papers so I could call and find out what was going on. I phoned and an elderly lady who I later got to know as Aunt Lizzy answered the phone. The way I grew up it is common in South Africa that anyone 10 years older than you is called uncle or aunt. However in the workplace that does not apply, but I had a difficult time adjusting my thinking, especially as I was a young girl inexperienced with the big world outside. Aunt Liz went on to explain that she had my name and number on a list for a few positions that are open. I asked her how she got hold of my number and name and she said, she does not know, she just gets the list. I knew no one working in the police could have given up my name. And even to this day, I have no idea how my name came to be on the list. 

In all honesty, I never even thought about what would happen if my contract at the bookstore came to a close, I was just enjoying my life. I was getting paid every two weeks and blew it each weekend on movies, booze, and everything else the world had to offer me. The future was not really a consideration for me. I had a lot of friends who were students and we hung out together every weekend and just did what we wanted because we were “adults” now. 

I realize I sound very bad now, but I was still considered a good girl and everyone always complimented my mother on what a great job she did with us. I was a model student and never did anything wrong until I heard about my father’s passing. We only found out he passed away a year after it happened. I had no idea how to cope with the feelings I had. Sadness and relief simultaneously, and I started a rebellious lifestyle after that. Trying to get the attention from others that I needed from my dad. A little more on that later, I still don’t know you well enough to open up that part of my heart to you. 

By this period in my life, I’d started living a double life, a good schoolgirl during the week and the life of the party on weekends. When I started working, it was even worse, because now I could pay for it all. During the week I was the sweet new girl in the office that worked hard and on weekends, I would hang out with the students and my nights would become a blur that I could hardly remember the next morning. 

After I spoke to Aunt Lizzy and was able to figure out that this was only an administrative job the police force had to offer and that my job had nothing to do with physical firearms, my mother saw the benefits of me working for the government so she agreed that I could go for the interview. 

I will never forget, I went to the interview in the winter, I was still 18 and turning 19 in almost 3 months. I had a red jersey sweater on and as I entered the building the old inspector sitting behind the desk, the typically old inspector with the belly and loud voice must have seen my apprehension when he said, “Don’t worry girl, you will get the job.” He was probably telling that to everyone that came in, but I was immediately fond of him. He just had that whole grandfather look about him.

Of course, you know I got the job and it was two weeks later that I walked past Ian’s office—not knowing him yet but him knowing he was going to marry me. It was only 3 months later when he asked me to marry him. 

Now that you see how all of this had to come together for us to meet, does my devastation at how things were about to end make more sense to you? Can you see how this man became my whole life because I could see we were destined to be together? And now it was all falling apart and I had no way of keeping us together. 

Our happily ever after did not start just then because after he asked me to marry him, he had to ask my mom. My mom said NO! 

“Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”