7 Russell Hill Road

Sandra Benns

Description

7 Russell Hill Road is a multi-generational story of humble beginnings in France, a camp in Germany after World War II, rural Jamaica, Vietnam, Sweden, USA, and an old farm north of Toronto, Canada. By 2007, through sheer circumstance, the individuals of the culturally and racially diverse Canadian family eventually find themselves living on a leafy street in an upscale neighborhood in Toronto, Canada. The central character, a Supreme Court justice, is hiding from life within the Canadian Witness Protection Program. He meets a single woman who has knocked around the world her whole life without attachments and who is quite unable to form them. Their crippling trust issues force them to choose the wrong fork in the road, time and time again.

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Date de parution: 28 mai 2021
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781643788104
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

7 R ussell H ill R oad
Sandra Benns
Austin Macauley Publishers
2021-05-28
7 Russell Hill Road About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgment Chapter 1: Humble Beginnings Chapter 2: My Day in Court Chapter 3: Houseguests Chapter 4: Marlbank Chapter 5: A Birthday Present Chapter 6: Paris Chapter 7: Addendum: Nigel Chapter 8: Single Again Chapter 9: Under the Maple Tree Chapter 10: Addendum: Musings in the Kitchen Chapter 11: On the Lam Chapter 12: Nigella Hansson Chapter 13: 7 Russell Hill Road Playlist in Order of Chapter
About the Author
Sandra Benns lives in Toronto, Canada, and enjoys her passion for writing and all things literary, along with running her non-profit corporation which focuses on seniors. When asked how she balances her writing schedule, work, and family life that includes two small granddaughters, she smiled and shook her head, “Pinch me. Just pinch me. I’m living the dream.”
Dedication
For Dad and Great-Grandad
My father and great-grandfather were the first men in my life to love me unconditionally. Their spirits ride shotgun as I barge through the thick and thin of it.

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Copyright Information ©
Sandra Benns (2021)
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.
Any person, who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication, may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Ordering Information
Quantity sales: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data
Benns, Sandra
7 Russell Hill Road
ISBN 9781643788098 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781643788104 (ePub e-book)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2020919888
www.austinmacauley.com/us
First Published (2021)
Austin Macauley Publishers LLC
40 Wall Street, 33rd Floor, Suite 3302
New York, NY 10005
USA
[e-mail]
[phone]
Acknowledgment
Over the years, my girlfriends and I have picked each other up, dusted each other off, and laughed and cried together so many times that I can’t remember. What I do remember, however, now that the dust has settled somewhat in our lives, is my love, respect, and admiration for each and every one of these remarkable women.
Chapter 1

Humble Beginnings
At the tender age of nine years, Nigel Royal had no idea that the two-page letter he was holding in his small, brown hands was a major game-changer. His whole world as he knew it was as a boy living in an extended family household in rural Jamaica, playing cricket and attending a small public school. That, and eating a sizable portion of local fish along with goat stew most days, was all about to come to an abrupt end.
His big sister was standing there with her hands on her hips and an animated face. According to her, the postmaster had brought this letter from his mama who lived all the way up in Canada. His mama didn’t write often, so he knew vaguely that the letter must be important, especially to see his sister all riled up.
“Your mama has made arrangements for you to go up to Canada to live with her!”
“What’s Canada?”
“What do you mean what’s Canada? You buffoon, Canada is a country! The question is: where’s Canada? That’s where your mama lives. She wants you to live with her there in the big house!”
“But I like it here. Who will feed Daisy? What about my cricket team?”
“Daisy is a dog, little man. She’ll be just fine with the rest of us here to feed her.”
“No, I can’t leave her. If I go to Canada, she will have to come with me.”
“I don’t think so, Buster. Now sit down and read that letter from your mama again to make sure you understand. You are going to fly out in a week’s time. Besides, dogs aren’t allowed on airplanes. You are one lucky boy, and don’t you be forgetting it. Count your blessings and forget about that damn mangy dog.”
Nigel sat, as ordered, and as he focused on the second page, he put his head down on his arms to cover his tears. He couldn’t leave – he just couldn’t. He knew they wouldn’t feed Daisy. He was the only one that loved her. And it would be the first time meeting his mama. Would she like him? Did they have a school for him to go to up in Canada? He liked his school and he liked his headmaster. Did they have books there? He always did his best to keep out of trouble for his big sister, and now she wanted to get rid of him.
***
He sat in the big, deep chair in the ‘special baggage claim’ office, holding on to his small brown suitcase and keeping his eye on the nice lady in the uniform that worked on the airplane.
The attendant looked over at the young unaccompanied minor who had an unfortunate, red, and angry-looking keloid scar that hooked around and under his cheekbone on the left side of his face. During the long flight, she had kept him occupied with lots of snacks and a variety of coloring books. Actually, the coloring books were way too childish for him, but he didn’t whine about it. He just asked her for more after outlining and coloring in every page carefully, with no mistakes, throughout the long journey.
Nigel glanced to his left and saw a large, old woman lumber through the door. Could that be his mama?
The tall, big-boned black woman took a moment standing there, her left hand carrying a black handbag with a small wrapped package sticking out of the top of it and her right hand clutching a white cardigan that had been washed and folded a thousand times over. Face beaded with perspiration, her tidy hair was pulled back and adorned with a small, maroon-colored pillbox. She was sporting her Sunday’s best white shoes with the low heel, even though it was midweek and not the Sabbath at all.
He stood up in the manner that small Jamaican boys are told to, in respect of their elders. He studied her face earnestly. She looked like she was happy to see him, and well, maybe a little relieved as well. ‘She does look a little friendly, right?’ he rationalized to himself. He hoped she didn’t notice his scar. “Are you my mama?”
She lowered herself down, opening her arms while still clutching the black bag and the white cardigan on either side of her large frame.
Nigel’s head was buried in her ample chest, and he struggled to breathe amongst his mama’s hot, sweaty breasts that had been dosed liberally with ‘Lily of the Valley’ perfume hours beforehand. He decided that she smelled good.
Neither of them knew that the dime-store scent that she had bought at Woolworth’s years ago was a fitting choice for the reunion between the mother and her last-born child. In fancy script on the blue bottle, below the popular perfume’s nomenclature, its byline read: You have made my life complete.
And so, it was on a balmy night in the summer of 1959, at Lester B. Pearson Airport in Toronto, Canada, that Saul Himmel, who had driven his housekeeper, Mavis Royal, to the airport, witnessed a young nine-year-old boy reconnect with his mama for the first time in his memory. His housekeeper hadn’t laid eyes on her boy since he was a ten-month-old baby just taking his first steps. Saul blew his nose noisily and blinked to keep the tears back. Yes, he had to agree with Mavis; the boy was a sight for sore eyes.
***
The next day, his mama had allowed him to step outside her small apartment that was partitioned off from the big house behind the back stairwell, with the promise that he would not leave the property line, no matter what. He promised and found his way to the front steps of the big house located at 7 Russell Hill Road, on a leafy street in the Toronto neighborhood called Forest Hill.
Saul opened the front door to collect the morning newspaper.
“Well, hello, young man, are you all settled in?” he said from the doorway.
“I suppose.” Nigel turned and looked up at the man standing in front of him. “Sir, I forgot your name, sir. I’m sorry. Don’t tell my mama, or she’ll give me a whooping.”
“I think that you should call me Saul. Your mama will probably want you to call me Mr. Himmel, but when we are just the two of us, like now, you can call me Saul.”
“Saul?” he asked quizzically.
“Yes, Saul.”
“What kind of a name is that? Is that a Canadian name?”
“Well, yes, you might say so. But really, it’s a Jewish name.”
“What’s Jewish mean?”
“That’s a whole long story. We’ll save it for another day. Meanwhile, back to my name, do we have a deal? When we are by ourselves, you will call me Saul and I will call you Nigel.” He extended his hand to the boy.
“Yes, sir. I mean Saul.” He jumped up to meet the outstretched hand.
“Let’s both go around to your mama’s door and ask if I can take you down to the Dutch Dreams Ice cream Parlor and we’ll get a cone.”
With Mavis giving her son last-minute instructions on how to behave all the way down the driveway, the man carefully held on to the boy’s hand. They walked across to Bathurst Street, crossed over St. Clair Avenue, and they discovered that both of them thought chocolate was the best flavor in the world, even as far away as Jamaica.
As Saul sat across from the small boy, with the ice cream cone wrapped neatly in the supplied napkin, he leaned over and said to the seemingly happy, squirming boy sitting across