Emma's Equilibrium

A Wadh

Description

As a child, Emma develops a talent for equestrian sport. She follows her passion and moves from England to Canada to compete at the highest level. Over time though, her great success pales into insignificance next to the overwhelming suffering that she comes to experience in the most brutal forms of betrayal, rape and violence until eventually, when the opportunity arises, she moves to Belgium with her husband, in the hope of a new start.For a while, normality is restored. Everything appears to be fine - until they come to the realisation that there is a problem emerging within their family. Emma is increasingly troubled and challenged by the worrying traits that her eldest son is developing. She wonders why she encounters the dark side of men repeatedly. The situation worsens until one day, she despairs and reaches for their hunting rifle.It's time for an intervention. Just as suffering can co-exist with triumph, sometimes there is hope in despair. An encounter with Death provides answers that allow Emma to better understand her existence. She comes to understand that her life is just one part of a much larger plan and that things tend to happen for a reason. She also discovers that she is right at the cusp of achieving that much-desired state of existence,equilibrium.

Sujets

• Canadá
• Canada
• Belgium

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 16 février 2016
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781785895630
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Emma’s EQuilibrium




A Wadh
Copyright © 2016 A Wadh

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

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ISBN 9781785895630

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Contents
Emma 1974
Tutankhamun
Competition
Aunt Annie
Emma
Perfection
The offer 1979
Ian, Hubert, Jacinta, Judith, George 1981
Ian and Emma 1981
The beginning
Ian and Emma:
The end?
Ian 1981
Emma 1981
Ian and Catherine 1982
Emma and Chris 1982
Turbulence 1983
Vancouver
14th February 1984
Los Angeles Olympics 1984
Chris and Emma 1985
Emma 1986
Brussels 1988
Brussels 1997
Concert Noble 1999
Robert 2003
The party 2005
February 24 2007
The encounter
Epilogue
Fourth of June 2008
Emma
1974
“Push harder on your heels, Emma. There’s far too much weight on the front of your feet. And don’t arch your back that much. That goes for all of you girls. It’s all right to relax but it’s important to keep your poise. Definitely no crouching… Please!”
The girls were coming to the final part of the lesson: individual rounds of canter.
The twelve-year-old Emma was up first. Julia, her mother, perked up in anticipation as she started with a gentle trot and approached the corner where she accelerated into a canter. The horse picked up pace and although her daughter looked at ease, the speed of the horse had Julia worried: her daughter could just be flung off the horse’s back. A couple of rounds later though, the anxiety had abated. Her daughter and the horse were m-“No daddy, and you know, we all call her the gentle giant. She’s one of the favourites at Wrenfield. It’s actually the first time Ryan let me ride her. I hope he’ll let me do it again!
Mom, for next month, we have to prepare a presentation for our class on our hobbies. Miss Edwards said that we should put some pictures and explanations on chart paper and then speak to the rest of the class for ten minutes.”
As long as Jeremy could remember, the first presentation he had made was in senior school around the age of sixteen. And here was his daughter, setting off to make one at the age of twelve. “I guess that you won’t have a problem choosing your subject. It will still take quite a lot of work. The most difficult presentations are where you know the subject, because you run the risk of rambling.”
“Isn’t that the name of the song you keep listening to, Mom?”
Jeremy raised his eyebrows in resignation.
“I won’t be the only one speaking about horses. There are two other girls who want to do the same. So Miss Edwards suggested that we do three different presentations. One on the role of horses in history, the second one would be on the body of a horse and the third would be on equestrian sports. I wanted to do the second one. The one on history wasn’t that interesting for me. And apart from the riding I do, I know nothing about equestrian sports. I have neither seen a game of polo nor have I ever seen a horse race. All I am interested in are horses themselves.”
“That’s a perfectly good reason for your decision, Emma.” Jeremy could only beam at the simplicity of their daughter’s explanation. Somewhere back in time, he himself must have started off with such innocent logic.
The drive back to Stern Leigh took fifteen minutes. They got out of the car and as they walked to the entrance of the house, they could hear Dotty on the other side of the door barking. She was jumping and wagging her tail wildly as Emma bent down to hug her, “Hello, my darling, did you have a good day?” She planted a kiss just above her wet snout. Dotty followed Emma into the corner where she took her boots off and then followed her until she stopped short at the staircase with a bark of disapproval: she was not allowed to follow Emma up to her room.
When Emma came back down, she was showered and dressed in her long nightshirt. Dotty got up and followed her into the kitchen and settled down at her feet. But Emma quickly finished her plate, had a glass of milk and went back up to practice her piano. She was working on an extract from Swan Lake and needed to work on a tempo transition. As neither Jeremy nor Julia could read or play music, she had to make corrections herself. When she finished her piano, Emma went to wash her teeth, brushed her hair and tucked herself in. Julia would know when she was in bed and would come up, give her daughter a kiss and wish her: Good Night! She would then switch off the light in her room but leave the door open.
Tutankhamun
Jeremy was rarely home for dinner during the week. But there were exceptions; one such evening, Emma was at the table when Dotty suddenly got up and left the kitchen. They heard the front door open. “Hello ladies and I mean you as well, Dorothy.” Dotty and Dorothy were interchangeable names that Emma used depending on her mood. She often did the same for horses she knew well. The dog did not seem to mind.
“Daddy, you’re home early today. Come, come eat with us.” Jeremy kissed his daughter on the cheek and then kissed Julia. “I was at a client’s office near Waterloo and it didn’t make much sense going back to the office. I would probably have just made it back for six o’clock. So I took the five fourty-two.”
“Dad, today I rode Sandy again. She was great!”
“Did you canter?”
“It was so easy with Sandy. You know, daddy, I am really happy we came to Stern Leigh. It’s so much nicer than living in London. There I could only go riding once a week, here I can go all the time…”
Jeremy gently interrupted. “Oh while I remember, next week is the last week of the Egyptian exhibition at the British Museum. All those Tutankhamun treasures are going to be shipped off back to Cairo. Why don’t we all make a family trip to London this Saturday and pay the boy king a visit? Emma, is it ok if you miss your riding on Saturday?”
“Can we go on Sunday instead? I was hoping to ride Sandy again on Saturday.”
“Not enough trains on Sunday… go on Emma… Sandy will understand. You could tell her all about the amazing treasures you will see.”
*
They took the train from Wrenfield to Waterloo and then a special bus service to the British Museum. They had to queue for twenty minutes and finally made their way through the security into the first room of exhibits. This was the hall with mummified pet animals. Then came the jars with the body organs and then a series of photos showing the discovery of the tomb by Howard Carter.
Not before long, they were in the room of Tutankhamun’s treasures.
Julia held Jeremy’s hand tightly. Once the initial surge of awe had subsided, conversation resumed through hushed whispers, “Look at this, it’s hard to believe that these objects on display are over three thousand years old. Tutankhamun’s mask almost has a sixties bob style hair. And look at the features, almost androgynous.”
Notwithstanding the extraordinary elegance of these riches, the narrative on the brochure revealed a sorry side to all this splendour: a harsh reminder of the frailty of humans; the divine king who had briefly ruled over a land of such magnificence was a mere boy who died prematurely. He had not left any heirs: the two pregnancies of his wife had ended in miscarriages. His own death had been so untimely that it had resulted in his burial in a makeshift common man’s tomb. The exhibition had a further section on Howard Carter and Lord Carnarvon. While Jeremy was keenly digesting the photos, maps and charts, Julia and Emma stayed back in the jewellery room, transfixed by the mask.
“He is beautiful.” Emma picked up a leaflet from a heap stacked on a low stool next to the glass case housing the mask. The leaflet was titled, The Golden Mask:
‘The Mask is just under two feet in height and weighs a little over 20 pounds.” Emma fixed her gaze on Tutankhamun’s or, more accurately, the mask’s, eyes. These were made of stone and the leaflet explained that they were white quartz with black obsidian; the eyes observe, gently but steadily, through almond shaped openings encrusted with deep rich blue lapis-lazuli. The thick eyebrows run parallel to the contours of the eyes. The inner and outer corners of the white in the eyes have been touched up with light specks of red in an attempt to simulate mortality within a setting of divinity.
The forehead is barely visible under the headdress. The falcon and snake Goddesses oversee all that falls within the field of divine vision. The headdress comprises the same encrusted lines as the eyes and the eyebrows. It is as if a cloth had been placed on the royal tresses, tightened at the forehead and then pushed back. In this instance, the cloth happens to be a sheet of gold. Parallel and symmetric vertical lines rise from the forehead before making their way from the front, straight up and over the head. These then descend on either side, always parallel, un