THE WINDSOR

THE WINDSOR

It’s funny what things you remember from your childhood. I don’t remember the Christmas’s or my Birthdays as such. I don’t even remember my brother being born, or my mother passing away, they’re there, somewhere in the back of my mind I’m sure, it’s not like I didn’t experience them, just that they didn’t stick.
My report cards always said I didn’t pay enough attention in class, but school was all so boring. Mr Gaskell, my history teacher was the worse, his monotone voice drearily going on about the Tudors, or the Victorian era. Why history had to be so boring when there were so many wars we could have covered was beyond me.
Maths and English weren’t my strong points either, using the angle of a shadow to calculate the height of a tree, or I before E, except after… something. Maybe if I had tried harder my life would have been different. Maybe if I’d focused more it wouldn’t have ended up like it did.
Anyway, back to my memories. For all the things that stuck in my memory, it was my father teaching me how to do my tie that’s still there. It was on the day of my Mothers funeral, there was so much going on at the time that I’d been left alone in my room. Dad had been running round trying to get things organised and it wasn’t until the last twenty minutes that he came in to see me.

“You alright, Son?” He asked. His eyes looked red and he seemed to have aged a lot over the last few days, his normal black hair seemed to have gone a little greyer, his straight back bent over a little more and his usual cheerful manner was tarnished.
“I’m fine, Dad.” I’d replied. “I just can’t do my tie. Mum usually did it for me.” I remember getting upset, Mum had always been the one, the one who got everyone else ready, the one who smiled and laughed to keep everyone else happy even though she wasn’t well.
“Come here, Son.” He said. “I’ll show you how I was taught by my Father.” He beckoned for me to stand and he looped the tie round my collar. “This is called a Windsor knot; this knot says a lot about the person. You could do a half Windsor, but it doesn’t look as good.” He crossed the tie below my chin.
“You start off by crossing the thicker bit over the thinner.” He explained. “Then you loop it over like this.” It felt good to be the focus of his attention. He’d been working so hard over the last few years to pay the medical bills for Mum that I’d rarely seen him.
“Once it’s looped once, you loop it again the other way. Keep it tight and it won’t let you down.” His hands felt warm against my neck.
“Then bring it round the front to cover, then once more over and…” He pulled on the knot and I coughed slightly as it tightened. “Sorry, a little too tight maybe.” His smile was reassuring; it said everything was going to be okay.
“Is that better?”
“Yes. That’s okay now. Thanks”
“Right, so then it’s once over and through the front.” He held the knot and pulled the tie into place before smoothing down my collar.
“My Father, your Granddad, used to swear by a good tie. A good tie like this will never let you down; it will never slip or loosen if you don’t want it to.” I remember looking at him and smiling and he’d started to cry before he hugged me.

I don’t know why that one sticks in my mind like it does, but he was right. As I grew up I always did the Windsor. The first time I interviewed I got the job, afterwards I was told it was because of my attention to detail that had made the difference. The only time I didn’t do it was when I went to court; I was in a rush and didn’t focus enough. My ex got full custody of my children, and the family home.
I lost my job because I wasn’t focused after the loss, then the credit card bills started to flood in. What money I had left after the childcare payments didn’t give me enough to get anywhere decent to live, and my life took a further dive. If only I’d used the Windsor, maybe my life would have been different; maybe I’d have become a success like my Father. Well, from now on, it’s going to be a Windsor all the way.
I run the instructions through my mind as I do them. Loop over and through one way before looping through the other; loop round the front and up the back before finishing off. I pull it tight under my chin, feeling happy with the result. Dad would be proud of me for remembering.
“A good tie like this will never let you down, it will never slip or loosen if you don’t want it to” I can hear his words in the air, reminding me.
“Thanks, Dad.” I whisper before I move the knot round to the back of my neck.
With only one last thing to do,
I kick the chair away
and drop…