YRKB
12-20-2010, 08:38 AM
She was rich. Everyone knew Phoebe Inney was rich. It was subtle but strong, an aura of wealth and prestige that filled the university corridors - drawing attention - as she hurried from one lecture to the other. Auburn hair perfectly shaped. The fit of her clothes - the way she held herself.
Unashamedly rich.
Other boys, threatened, may have despised her for it - if they didn't keep a conscientious distance. Andrew loved her on sight.
At times in his pursuit of her he felt frighteningly out of his depth - she was elegant, kind and shockingly high maintenance.
Her reservedness, despite the time she gave him, was unnerving. Were her talks with the brash, cheeky middle-class boy a sort of social charity work?
Months passed before he could tell her openly how much he wanted her, how much she fascinated and impressed him. How proud he'd be to have her.
The answer that followed her short sigh - and that something that passed, too quick to recognise, behind her eyes - was concise.
She liked him, hugely - she was sure she loved him, in fact. It couldn't happen - she needed to sustain a lifestyle, to enjoy luxuries - desperately, honestly. Andrew, the clown - the flighty student with transparent goals - could not even entertain the idea. They argued and he abandoned her where they stood - sickened and numbed by her shallow, vaccuous outlook.
Her call later explained everything. Two hours of broken, hesitant conversation and her raw tears. Her childhood, her past experiences put things so clearly into perspective. Andrew loved her, without a doubt - and she would have to be won.
He changed. A sense of direction and purpose filled him with a steely sense of certainty. To some he seemed colder, more inaccessible - he became fierce competition. Phoebe observed his change with a considered, peripheral interest.
She deliberated for a week, shutting herself away from the world, but accepted when he proposed months later - towards the end of their studies.
Andrew, 23, married 21 year old Phoebe Inney within 7 months. Her mother attended only briefly.
***
At 42, Andrew Frenham is exhausted. Deep lines streak under the faded hazel eyes of his drawn face.
He spends the days of the Christmas holiday he has free in the west wing of his 4 floor country home, curtains drawn mid-afternoon in the bedroom. Half asleep, his eyes open - looking at nothing.
Pheobe Inney-Frenham occasionally comes in to show him the 'understated' Swarovski necklace she has bought their eldest daughter, or perhaps to inquire about anything she dosen't understand in the paperwork for the hatchback car their youngest son will receive.
She is a picture. Her face bright and tight, well kept in her Ralph Lauren polo, white capri house trousers and flats. She never bothers him too much, and understands him without him ever really responding.
He knows he has done well by her, by them all. It its doubtless that she is eternally grateful to him for keeping his promise. Gratitude, respect - admiration even, radiates from her in the silence. Sometimes he lies back in awe of what he's created. Of the lifestyle he now leads.
But it's not enough.
But he is a shell of the man he used to be, with children he knows less than the finer details of his office furnishings. How can he not resent her for that.
She's so happy with her material gratification, she seems to think it a fair trade to sacrifice his affection, his love. Yet she benefits from the lifestyle, the love and understanding of their family. The full experience. That's not what he wants.
Andrew Frenham feels useful for only one thing.
That has to change.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown
Unashamedly rich.
Other boys, threatened, may have despised her for it - if they didn't keep a conscientious distance. Andrew loved her on sight.
At times in his pursuit of her he felt frighteningly out of his depth - she was elegant, kind and shockingly high maintenance.
Her reservedness, despite the time she gave him, was unnerving. Were her talks with the brash, cheeky middle-class boy a sort of social charity work?
Months passed before he could tell her openly how much he wanted her, how much she fascinated and impressed him. How proud he'd be to have her.
The answer that followed her short sigh - and that something that passed, too quick to recognise, behind her eyes - was concise.
She liked him, hugely - she was sure she loved him, in fact. It couldn't happen - she needed to sustain a lifestyle, to enjoy luxuries - desperately, honestly. Andrew, the clown - the flighty student with transparent goals - could not even entertain the idea. They argued and he abandoned her where they stood - sickened and numbed by her shallow, vaccuous outlook.
Her call later explained everything. Two hours of broken, hesitant conversation and her raw tears. Her childhood, her past experiences put things so clearly into perspective. Andrew loved her, without a doubt - and she would have to be won.
He changed. A sense of direction and purpose filled him with a steely sense of certainty. To some he seemed colder, more inaccessible - he became fierce competition. Phoebe observed his change with a considered, peripheral interest.
She deliberated for a week, shutting herself away from the world, but accepted when he proposed months later - towards the end of their studies.
Andrew, 23, married 21 year old Phoebe Inney within 7 months. Her mother attended only briefly.
***
At 42, Andrew Frenham is exhausted. Deep lines streak under the faded hazel eyes of his drawn face.
He spends the days of the Christmas holiday he has free in the west wing of his 4 floor country home, curtains drawn mid-afternoon in the bedroom. Half asleep, his eyes open - looking at nothing.
Pheobe Inney-Frenham occasionally comes in to show him the 'understated' Swarovski necklace she has bought their eldest daughter, or perhaps to inquire about anything she dosen't understand in the paperwork for the hatchback car their youngest son will receive.
She is a picture. Her face bright and tight, well kept in her Ralph Lauren polo, white capri house trousers and flats. She never bothers him too much, and understands him without him ever really responding.
He knows he has done well by her, by them all. It its doubtless that she is eternally grateful to him for keeping his promise. Gratitude, respect - admiration even, radiates from her in the silence. Sometimes he lies back in awe of what he's created. Of the lifestyle he now leads.
But it's not enough.
But he is a shell of the man he used to be, with children he knows less than the finer details of his office furnishings. How can he not resent her for that.
She's so happy with her material gratification, she seems to think it a fair trade to sacrifice his affection, his love. Yet she benefits from the lifestyle, the love and understanding of their family. The full experience. That's not what he wants.
Andrew Frenham feels useful for only one thing.
That has to change.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown