Maureen's Haven

By Ian MacDonald

Maureen's Haven was a Women's Shelter and a place of refuge and hope for women in need. They arrived battered and broken, often with their kids, seemingly with no life left in them. All hope had gone and life had defeated them - or so they felt. Maureen had been in that state a few short years ago and knew that there was hope for these women and that she was the one to provide it for them. The wretched women that arrived at her shelter were not the same women who left. They were self-assured, trained in a skill and many had already found employment that could sustain them. It was awesome to see the transition and most gratifying for Maureen and her staff. Some even had their faith in men restored and actually fell in love and found that elusive dream of romance and affection in the most unexpected places. Unicorns did exist, they were just harder to find, but they were out there. Some of Maureen's friends were bitten by the same bug too and they also became embroiled in romantic entanglements of significant passion and desire. It must have been the air out there on the Atlantic Coast Maureen thought. Whatever it was it was pretty powerful in terms of magnetic attraction. Happy ever after was possible, and Maureen made these formally broken women see that and accept the fact that they too could find that elusive pot of gold. They just had to look in the right places.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ian MacDonald
• Release date: Apr 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370698660

Ian MacDonald

The author was born and educated in England and served in the British armed forces and briefly as an officer in the British Prison Service. He subsequently became a financial adviser and retired as an executive in a financial planning firm. He took up writing as a hobby upon retirement and he now lives in Ontario with his wife. His writing has a military or law enforcement theme to it as his interests lie in that field.

Book preview

Maureen’s Haven

By

Ian Macdonald

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Smashwords Edition 2017

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Smashwords Edition Notes

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Cover Designer

Rita Toews

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Photo Credit

photo credit: byb64 http://www.flickr.com/photos/50879678@N03/16903416587>Port de Figueras, commune de Castropol, principauté des Asturies, Espagne. via http://photopin.com>photopin https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/>(license)

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All characters in this book are fictional and the product of the author’s imagination. Should there be any similarity to persons living or deceased they are purely coincidental and totally unintentional.

Table of Contents

Introduction

Chapter One -The Shelter

Chapter Two - Christine Harper

Chapter Three - The School Play

Chapter Four - Martin’s Investigation.

Chapter Five – Pete’s Telephone Call

Chapter Six – The Spring Fair

Chapter Seven – Dawn Phillips

Chapter Eight – Anthea’s Night At The Movies

Chapter Nine – Maureen’s Dinner Party

Chapter Ten - Thanksgiving

Chapter Eleven – Karu’s Creation

Chapter Twelve – The New Year

Chapter Thirteen – The Evil Witch

Chapter Fourteen – Dr. Collins Arrives

Chapter Fifteen – Mary’s Narrow Escape

Chapter Sixteen – Andrew’s Extravaganza

Chapter Seventeen – Wedding Jitters

Chapter Eighteen – Stag and Hen Night

Chapter Nineteen – Anthea and Pete’s Wedding

Chapter Twenty – Andrew and Cynthia

Chapter Twenty One – Christine and Rachelle

Chapter Twenty Two – Margot Finds Contentment

Chapter Twenty Three – Dawn Finds her Unicorn

Chapter Twenty Four – Rachelle and Dave’s Wedding

Chapter Twenty Five – Maureen’s Reflections

Introduction

Maureen Machin had lived in Murdoch’s Cove almost all of her life. She had been married at a young age and became widowed soon afterwards. Then her mother took ill and she looked after her for a short while until her death. With her mother gone Maureen now felt so alone. She had dated on and off, but no Prince Charming had showed up and so she ventured into the world of internet dating having been encouraged by friends to try it. This proved to be a world class nightmare and one she almost died in. Fortunately, she was indeed rescued by Prince Charming out there in the wilds and she subsequently married him. He was a damaged ex-soldier with his own demons to conquer, but both were able to heal each other with the additional help of some new found friends. One of them was a leading industrialist and he had founded a women’s shelter and subsequently a man’s shelter in the town of Markton, Ontario. It was here that they both blossomed, and the Industrialist, Tony Braxton, of Braxton Industries was now persuaded to open a similar facility on the East Coast. He was contemplating opening a new plant and this area needed more employment opportunities and had plenty of labour on hand. It was to be situated in Murdoch’s Cove Nova Scotia and close to Halifax and all major transport hubs so it suited his plans perfectly.

Maureen was to run the Women’s Shelter and her husband Paul would be the Plant’s General Manager. The shelter would be a haven for abused women, but one that offered training facilities and opportunities to learn the various jobs in the plant, thus giving them a future earning potential. It would prove to be the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow for many of them – but getting there had been far from easy. Maureen’s Haven, as it was known, was the salvation they had been seeking and it most certainly turned their lives around. Their heartbreak would be turned into joy in this place, not overnight perhaps, but over time. Maureen and her team would provide them with the opportunity to grow and restore their self-esteem, repair their broken wings and let them soar up to the heavens once more where they belonged. The women came from all walks of life and their stories were all different and equally heartbreaking in their own right – but Maureen would be there to help them all in whatever way she could. There certainly are good hearted and caring people out there in this world and Maureen Machin is amongst them. Read on to learn for yourself how her compassion, together with loving and tender care, helped those who needed it most to be healed and restored and perhaps find a Prince Charming of their own – despite them being on the endangered species list.

Maureen’s Haven

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Chapter One

It was now early January and the snow was falling outside the Women’s Shelter and making the sidewalks quite treacherous to walk on. The Christmas lights still twinkled on the lampposts and signs and in many of the merchant’s windows. Some of the stores had that Olde Worlde look, with tiny window panes and bottle like glass that were covered in snow at the corners. It really did have that Christmas card appearance to it.

The Town’s snowplows had been up and down the streets several times clearing the roads, but at the same time they were piling it up on the edge of the sidewalks. Each time they passed by, more of the snow covered the sidewalk, and the local shop owners had to get out their shovels and clear a path for their customers to use in order for them to continue to do business. Maureen looked outside from her window and shuddered, it sure does look pretty bleak out there she said to nobody in particular. There were several women in the room at the time, all of them visitors to the shelter, or guests as Maureen called them. They were all cozy and warm inside the shelter and a fire was crackling away in the hearth sending sparks floating up the chimney in a seemingly constant flow. A refrigerated delivery van was just pulling up to Mr. Maynard’s butchers shop to deliver some meat, and Maureen thought to herself that it could have been delivered by a golf cart that day. It most certainly didn’t need refrigerating today. Mr. and Mrs. Maynard lived above their store in the apartment, as did most of the store keepers on the street. As a result, come rain or shine, most stores would be open for business during the worst weather conditions. That however did not mean that their customers would be braving the elements to drop by in such conditions. Today would be just such a day.

The snowfall had been heavy and the snowplows were having a tough time of it keeping the streets clear and likewise the sidewalks. Pedestrians would be few and far between that day Maureen thought to herself. However, weather like this brought a silver lining to the shelter; it would be a peaceful day. Irate husbands, abusive fathers and boyfriends and the like would be hunkered down at home in front of the fire and having to fend for themselves for a change. Maureen doubted they would even drag their sorry carcasses down to the beer store for replenishments in that weather. They most certainly wouldn’t be showing up at the shelter causing a rumpus, a not infrequent occurrence regrettably.

That, unfortunately, by no means guaranteed their sobriety for the next 24 hours. The wives, who had fled their man’s wrath earlier, would return to a pig sty and a still angry partner, just not a drunken one. It was a regular cycle and the local police were very familiar with it. They would be called out to deal with these domestic violence issues all too frequently – but when it came to laying charges, the women always refused to press the matter. It was most frustrating. When the law changed and they did not have to press charges, as the police now could lay charges themselves – the police were seldom called. As the women saw it – they were the losers no matter which way it went. They could either be beaten, or thrown out on the street with no money for rent or food. The man at least provided that much – the abusive cost was merely the price they had to pay.

Maureen had seen far too many women in this predicament, both here and in Markton and it covered all walks of life and social standing. Statistics stated that one in ten women was classified as battered or abused wives – but she never really believed it. Government statistics can be interpreted in many ways and this one seemed rather high. When she had looked around at all of her friends and their husbands, and there were far more than ten of them, she saw no evidence of it whatsoever. One week at the shelter in Markton soon changed her mind. That was a real eye opener to come face to face with this social disgrace. Rachel Malcolm, the lady who ran the shelter in Markton, was a former nun and nurse. She had seen more than her fair share of trauma’s out in Ethiopia and Sudan. She was a very caring woman and she just had this serene and calming presence about her. She had taught Maureen all the basics; the rest was On the job training. It was here that Maureen got her real education on how some women were forced to live. Well I say Live, Exist would be a more accurate term. The reward came at the end. Seeing the transformation in those women was a totally awesome and uplifting experience. The wretched specimens of womanhood that first entered the shelter and the confident and self-assured women that left it were two very different things.

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When the shelter first opened is was simply operated as a haven or refuge for abused women. There was no shortage of them either. The social services, the police and the courts had all dropped in to take a look at the facilities and all of them totally approved and welcomed their presence in the community. It was long overdue they all felt. Between them they ensured that the shelter was never empty and they were more than satisfied with the results.

The training and educational aspects evolved over time as more and more local women volunteered their services. Braxton Industries trained several women for positions in the factory here in Murdoch’s Cove, but some were given a new life elsewhere working for Braxton when circumstances required it. Some poor women simply couldn’t face remaining in the community given what had happened to them and the gossip that would follow them all of their lives. While they themselves were the victims in whatever had taken place – the knowledge that everyone knew all about them was simply too much to bear. Braxton’s understood that and did what they could to alleviate the woman’s pain and embarrassment by moving her elsewhere when possible.

Life in a small town is rather different than the anonymity of a large city. Everyone knows you and your business, especially in this close knit fishing community. The fisheries had closed down now and the oil rig offshore was now taking its place as the main employer in town. The pay was pretty good too, but the men were still away for lengthy periods as it was too costly to fly them in and out daily or even weekly. As one can imagine, this could cause one or two social problems and marital issues, and it did just that. Keeping such things quiet in a place like Murdoch’s Cove was next to impossible and the resulting upheaval was to be expected. The local jungle telegraph here in Murdoch’s Cove made the internet look sluggish. The simplest meeting for coffee or a lunch could be colorfully reported and embellished beyond all recognition. A retraction of course would be dismissed out of hand – there’s no smoke without fire being the prevailing argument. Prior to Maureen and her husband Paul returning home, all local gossip centered on Margot Burns and her activities. She simply didn’t give a damn about what people thought of her or said about her. She was in her early forties, glamourous, and was often seen around with far younger men. The local wives were more worried about their sons than their husbands and they all kept their eyes wide open when Margot was around. That said, many of them envied Margot. She was a free spirit, didn’t observe the social niceties and couldn’t care less about public opinion. She was sexy, admired by every man in town, and if she slept alone it was purely by choice. Speculation about her sex life was rampant, and often envied by those whose bedroom activities were less than spectacular. Handsome and virile 24 year olds were unsafe when Margot was around – not that they saw it that way. If she approached them at a bar, the next refusal she heard would be her first. Oh Yes, Margot was indeed a very colourful character, but she also had another side to her. She performed a lot of charity work and was also a volunteer at Maureen’s Haven. There was far more to Margo than her sexual proclivities and the town knew it too. They had a grudging respect for her, even if they kept their men away from her – or tried to at least.

Maureen’s Haven was now a well-respected feature in the town. Everyone knew what they did there and how they were helping the community. It was primarily the women who were catered to, but now and then it was the occasional man who was in need. They couldn’t house the men, but they could offer counselling and other forms of help. Some social misfits are beyond help and in fact many refuse it when it is offered to them. Some, on the other hand, welcome it and can often be turned around. The success rate with the men was not quite the same as with the women; their relapse rate was significantly higher. Once the women were restored to normal they seldom regressed. The shelter itself could house twelve women, some with their children if they were young enough. There were strict rules of course, but all of them realistic and necessary. They were all expected to mingle and pitch in with the domestic chores. Maximum residency was an arbitrary three months, but certain flexibilities could be brought into play as circumstances warranted. The seriousness of the situation would have a direct impact on any decisions made regarding residency and the volume of needy women at any given time. To date nobody had been turned away.

The basement of the shelter doubled as a workroom, a classroom and a department store. It carried all kinds of donated clothing and other personal needs for both women and children – but on a limited basis naturally. Educational classes taught up to High School Equivalency level and other skills were also taught. Dressmaking, Hairdressing, cash register operation etc. The object being, to get the women to an employable level, where they could go out and fend for themselves and be self-sufficient if possible. Those smart enough to be trained in Braxton’s; most certainly would be once they were fully trained.

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Braxton Industries was a huge corporation, primarily involved in the manufacture of electronic components and a variety of electrical gadgets and home appliances. It was a friend of Paul’s up in the town of Chester (he was a police officer) who pointed out that they could use more factories up there as there was little work to be found. He also pointed out that as the potential workforce only knew about the fisheries, manufacturers were reluctant to set up shop there. When the prospect was formally presented to Tony Braxton a few weeks later he said he’d have a team look into it. Paul had put this idea forward tongue in cheek and didn’t really expect Tony to go for it, but he was wrong. True to his word he did just that and the team reported back that there were numerous potential sites that would be suitable and there were also plenty of unemployed people seeking work and willing to try something new. Due diligence was then undertaken and with the Province of Nova Scotia on board Tony decided to take a chance. While the plant was being built, he sent up a team to train the various types of workers in the jobs they would be required to work in.

The plant general foreman was Pete Bradshaw, himself a casualty of circumstance in the past and a man who knew what it was like to have little or no hope. He oversaw the training, but did very little of it himself. The workers were unionized, but in name only in actual reality. Braxton’s had treated them well and they bent over backwards repaying them for it. When the plant first started up, and underwent the usual teething problems, the workers were right there to help out, many hours of overtime were put in – totally unpaid, and they were more than willing to do it. Later on as all these issues were ironed out the workers were rewarded for their loyalty and hard work. These hardened fishermen threw themselves into learning these new skills and duly appreciated the opportunity to earn a good living in a far safer environment than out on the ocean battling the elements. Out there in rough weather one faced death every day, and the local cemetery was testament to that fact.

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Pete Bradshaw had been a sergeant in the Canadian Armed forces, but he came out a damaged and broken soldier suffering from PTSD. His wife just couldn’t cope with the new husband she had, she had not signed up for this, and so she left him high and dry. It was by no means a unique situation. We say Till death Us Do Part and we really do mean it – but faced with this every day, that was never envisioned. The wives that do walk away are seldom ridiculed by those in the know. It takes a real life saint to cope with broken soldiers and their violent tantrums, their drunkenness, and random screams of terror in the middle of the night. Pete had been shot in the leg and he had a limp even now. He went completely off the rails and Paul and his friend, Andre La Chance, found him begging for food on the streets of Toronto. They too had been, and still were, PTSD sufferers themselves so they knew the score immediately. They took him back home with them, but he was terrified of them and also Maureen when they introduced her to him hoping a woman’s presence would calm him down a little. It didn’t - and he just sat there cowering in fear. This was a man who was highly regarded by his men as a fearless warrior on the battlefield – and now he was a trembling wreck.

When his plight was brought to the attention of Tony Braxton he jumped in immediately, and with both feet. Mr. Bradshaw was taken away in an ambulance, treated in a dual diagnosis facility and operated on by a leading orthopedic surgeon and placed under the care of a neurologist. All of that was at Tony’s expense and when he was back on his feet again, Tony sent him away on a management course. When he returned he was made a Foreman in their Richvale plant near Markton. Pete learned the ropes there and when Murdoch’s Cove came into being Tony made him the General Foreman, reporting to Paul, who, as the General Manager, reported directly to Tony himself.

Paul and Maureen were having dinner in their home one night when Paul commented –

I think it is about time Pete found himself a good woman and settled down again.

It was an abstract remark and more of a general observation rather than a galvanizing clarion call for action. When he realized he had actually spoken those words out loud he cringed. Maureen then studiously deliberated on that remark for a few seconds,

Yes, I think you are right, let me see who I know that might be suitable. He really is a good catch, Paul.

Paul just shrank further down in his chair,

Oh God, what have I just done?

He knew from past experience that his wife would now be on a mission, one where no prisoners would be taken. All her friends would be recruited, and the single ones vetted for personal suitability themselves. With the possible exception of Margot Burns - Murdoch’s Cove spinsters, of all ages, would now all be scrutinized under the microscope. Those that made the short list would really be put through a rigorous examination, one the national security services would be proud of.

It’s time to keep your head down, Paul, he said to himself. He knew only too well he was in for a raft of dinner parties where Pete would be the main dish on the menu – he just wouldn’t realize it. When they were living in Markton he had seen many such ventures undertaken by Rachel, Cathy Braxton, Maureen and her friend, Gwen. The men involved never knew what hit them and they were all happily married now. Pete Bradshaw was about to become the next casualty on the romantic battlefield – but there would be more than enough nurses on hand to sooth his wounds. Wounds he never knew he had until they started healing them. Oh Yes, his days of bachelorhood were coming to an end, and sooner rather than later, if Maureen had anything to do with it.

Chapter Two

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A few weeks later the snow had all been cleared away, but it was still bitterly cold outside. The sun was shining brightly in the clear blue sky, but it was not warming anything up outside in the minus 18c temperature. When the doorbell at the Women’s Shelter rang suddenly it startled Maureen who was carried away daydreaming at the time. Her mind was still focused on a potential partner for Pete Bradshaw, and to date she had no real prospects. There were one or two outside possibilities, but no really viable contenders. However it was early days yet. This was a fishing community after all, and the ocean had lots of fish out there, and Maureen now had an Ahab like obsession in finding the right woman for Mr. Peter Bradshaw.

When she opened the door it was Martin, their police officer friend who was standing there with an obviously distraught and emaciated woman.

Come in Martin, come in, it’s freezing out there said Maureen.

Thank you, Maureen, I have another guest for you - if you have the room Martin replied.

She’s been having a rough time lately, the details we can discuss later, but right now I think she needs the kind of help that your haven can provide."

Maureen just looked at the poor woman who was stood there shivering and totally ill equipped for the weather conditions and said –

We’ll take good care of her Officer and keep her safe and warm. You will be perfectly safe here, Dear, and we do have a room for you. We even have some clothes downstairs in the basement that might fit you. Right now though I think a nice hot bath or a shower if you prefer, would go a long way towards warming you up. Would you like that?

The woman merely nodded nervously and it was obvious to both Martin and Maureen that she had been severely traumatized by something or someone. She was terrified of everyone, including Maureen. A patrol car had picked her up on the highway trying to get out of town and she was almost frozen to death. The officer that found her had taken her to the police station to warm up and when Martin saw the state she was in he drove to Maureen’s Haven immediately. On the drive over there she told him a little about what had gone on that led her to this state, but there was so much more to discover. He could follow up on that later once Maureen had her comfortable and settled in.

In his line of work on the police force Martin had come across all kinds of domestic situations. The local economy of late was a contributing factor too in many cases. Men out of work, no prospects in sight, and that, as a rule, was always a recipe for trouble. The men felt emasculated and useless and they then turned to drink or drugs to dull the pain. This of course did nothing to improve the situation and their rage grew alongside their feelings of impotence and they then lashed out. It was a common theme. Once they were sober the apologies and their remorse flowed thick and fast until the next time - and there always was a next time. This time however, something was a little off. This woman was absolutely terrified and way more so than was normal for a battered woman. He would have a lot more questions for her once she was up to it, but he would let Maureen decide when that was. She didn’t appear to have any visible physical injuries, but psychologically she was a mess. There had to be a story behind that and Martin was determined to find out what that was and deal with the offender behind it all. Having seen that poor woman’s condition, he was not feeling very sympathetic to those behind it. He had seen all kinds of spousal abuse and it never ceased to amaze him how men could do that to their wives and still claim that they loved them. The fear of being left on their own to fend for themselves in the big bad world often made the women stay in these relationships and every now and then the odd one would be killed because of it. This time, Constable Martin Clark, was going to take a personal interest in the case. There was something about this woman and her fear that had reached deep down into his soul and he was determined to seek the answers as to why? The sheer terror he had seen on her face was something he could not get out of his mind. Spousal abuse was one thing; this added a whole new dimension to that heinous and brutal scene. If the poor woman was afraid of Maureen, then it occurred to him that a woman was more than likely involved in this somewhere. He thought back to the days when Paul had returned from the front lines in Afghanistan and the behaviour he had exhibited. One minute he’d be fine, the next he was a demented screaming wreck. That was Martin’s first exposure to PTSD and this poor woman certainly was displaying all the symptoms of it now. Psychological help would be needed here big time – but for now, Maureen, was the ideal candidate to calm her down and make her feel safe. After that all options would be on the table, meanwhile he would be conducting an exhaustive investigation into why and who was responsible for her wretched condition?

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Just next door to the Women’s Shelter was the Braxton factory. Maureen’s husband had his office upstairs along with Pete Bradshaw’s and a string of other offices that housed the administrative office staff. Paul’s secretary was a woman named Meghan Hughes who had just moved back home from Montreal with her two young children. Her husband had just opened an auto repair shop in town and he had a good reputation now. Once the townsfolk realised that his prices were very fair and that he didn’t suggest work that didn’t need doing, they soon spread the word. He certainly wouldn’t be rivaling Bill Gates financially, but he was making a good living and with Meghan’s salary from Braxton’s they were doing quite well. Paul thought the world of her; she was very efficient and always willing to go the extra mile when needed. He in turn reciprocated when she needed a favour or time off for appointments etc. or when her kids were sick. Her pay was never docked because of it and she really appreciated that. Braxton’s had treated her well and she in turn would do whatever she could to help them out above and beyond her duties at the office. Maureen had got to know Meghan very well and both women really and genuinely liked and respected each other. Had Meghan not been happily married with children already, she would have been right at the top of her contenders list for becoming the next Mrs. Peter Bradshaw. Sadly Maureen had to accept the fact that she was taken. It had not escaped her notice that Pete himself liked her too – but not in that way. He respected her abilities and he was just as friendly with Grant, her husband, too. No, she would