After Hours

Pete

January 28, 1971

After Jane and Brian's conversation earlier in the week, she had started brushing up on her astronomy again, checking out books from the school library and reading as much as she could during her breaks and while she had downtime at home. She forgot how much she loved astronomy, maybe because it reminded her of him. She wanted to impress him and because she had been rusty, she had a lot of catching up to do.

She checked out a few more from the library at the end of the day and set them on her coffee table once she arrived home.

Jane changed into more comfortable clothes and settled down to unwind from her day when, of course, that annoying ringing from down the hall alerted her.

She groaned, mumbling something about how she can never have a moment to herself before getting up to answer it.

"Hello?" She had gotten a longer phone cord recently so she was able to take the phone with her back to the couch.
"Jane.." It was a very familiar voice, her mother's, but judging by the tone she wasn't calling for a social visit, "We need to talk, it's about your father."
Jane felt her stomach tie in knots, a sentence that she had a Pavlovian reaction to. She already knew what her mother was going to say.
"He's started again, hasn't he?"
Even though she couldn't see Evelyn, she felt as though she could see her nodding.

Pete West served in the British Army during WWII. When he was selected to serve, he was leaving behind a wife who was several months pregnant with their first child. He was 27 years old when Britain became involved in the war and was considered an old man compared to the barely legal soldiers in his unit. The War had been incredibly hard on him, having to experience the combat at the front lines like that and to see these bright young men have their light taken away from them much too soon left an irreparable effect on him, one that he never quite recovered from. After learning of the birth of his baby boy, it became harder for him to separate those young soldiers from his newborn son. He was given an honorable discharge when the war was over, he came home to a country in disarray, and a family that he then had to provide for. Pete was unfortunate enough to serve for almost the entire length of Britain's involvement in the war, so his first born and only son was five years old by the time he met him for the first time.

Financial struggles and post traumatic stress of the war, "shell shock" as it was called in those days, took a toll on Pete and caused him to turn to the bottle more often than he would've liked, it helped ease his nightmares. His second born, Janette, wasn't planned. Pete and Evelyn were 36 and 34 respectively when she was born. The stress of another child to provide for furthered his codependence on alcohol, to the point where it affected his work. Ever since Jane's childhood, he's had dozens of jobs and his drinking has interfered with each one of them.

His alcoholism caused a strain between himself and his son, Scott. The two fought a lot, mostly out of Scott's concern for his little sister to have a good life and a present father, more than what he had. Nothing he said could change his father's behavior. Jane was too young to understand at the time why they fought all the time, but it was easy to detect the tension between them. Pete would promise he was going to sober up for good this time, Scott and Evelyn would clean out all of the liquor from the house. Pete would be on the wagon for a few months or maybe even a year, but he would fall of it soon enough. That was part of the reason that Scott left home so eagerly and doesn't visit as much as he would like, his job provided a good excuse for that. Plus, it's hard to get in touch with you when your family isn't quite sure where you are. Scott felt guilty about it, his anger and resentment towards his father negatively affected his relationship with his mother and his sister.

Once Jane got older and started to understand her father's alcoholism, it was another reason for her change and to want to fit in with the upper class. To overcompensate her upbringing and home life. She didn't want to be seen as someone whose father was a tosspot.

"Jane, I don't know what to do anymore."
"Do you want to take him to a clinic?" She asked as she wrapped her finger around the phone cord.
"You know we can't afford that, dear."
After a bit of silence and mental conflict, she said, "I have some money saved, I could help you out with it."
"No, I-I couldn't let you do that."
"Maybe I could talk to Scott, see if he wants to help. I know he probably won't but it doesn't hurt to ask."
Almost as soon her son was mentioned, she was completely against the idea, "No, I don't want to ask him for that."
Evelyn was being unusually snippy but the years of going through this process over and over again had worn her down, Jane knew her mother wasn't upset with her but it was just the stress and hopelessness of the situation.
"Mum, just let me help, okay? It'll be good for him to get some real help, maybe it'll stop him for good this time." Jane couldn't help but give herself false hope once again.
Her mother sighed, she knew Jane had a good point but it was difficult for her to accept the money from her daughter.
"Alright.." Evelyn sounded defeated.
"I'll bring it by soon, okay?"
"Thank you, dear.."
The two tried to engage in other small talk, she didn't dare bring up Brian just yet. It wasn't the right time to do it and she didn't want to have this conversation with her mother when both of them were so emotionally charged. Jane couldn't help but ask about his parents though, she always liked them and she had the impression they knew about her home life. They always made her feel welcome and apart of their family.

Jane felt as if her mother had a little more hope by the end of the conversation, brought on by Jane's financial contribution to get her father some real help and a normal conversation between the two as it had been several weeks since they talked. They said their goodbyes and hung up, Jane sat there in silence for a while, fixating her gaze on a vase that sat on her coffee table.

The pansies in the vase had begun to wilt, brought on by neglect on Jane's part. It had been such a hectic few weeks that watering her plants had hardly been at the top of her priorities.