They happily lost track of time dropping sticks off the bridge and running backwards and forwards like children, until some tourists arrived and, suddenly self-conscious, they realised they’d better let someone else have a turn.
On the way back to the car, they all had an extra spring about them. Livi twirled a Julie Andrews impression on the open path. “It’s so nice to have some space. Being in the city all the time, your eyes forget what a horizon looks like.”
“I know what you mean,” said Mia. “A city needs lots of green places.”
Livi nodded. “Yes. But it’s not just space for its own sake.”
“Not just for spinning?” Cass tried out a few turns and twisted her ankle on a rutted part of the track. “Ow!”
“No, I mean, having physical space gives you mental space, and emotional space. Head space. I think that’s one reason why the world’s gone so wrong. People just don’t have space for mental health. They’re squished in little flats, in cramped buildings, in crowded streets, in teeming cities. Their hearts can’t breathe.”
“Well, you are comparing with your little piece of paradise. I don’t know if things are that much worse here than before,” Cass said. “Who was that old Roman guy who complained about the state of society? Or was he Greek? Anyway. The youth of today, and all that.”
“I think it was Socrates,” offered Mia. “Greek. We had to study philosophy at school,” she explained.
“Don’t sound so apologetic,” said Livi. “That’s very impressive.”
“Yes,” Cass added, “with youth like you there’s still hope for the world.” And she gave her friend a squeeze.
“I don’t know about youth,” laughed Mia, “but at least we’re old enough for that drink. And I’m already hungry for lunch. Let’s get going. The first of September isn’t far away, we should start thinking about Livi’s next move. Unless you want to go to the Pooh shop?”
“No, let’s not sully the magic of Poohsticks Bridge with commercialism,” said Livi. “Nothing could better that.”
“Yes, let’s sully it with alcohol instead,” Cass laughed. “Ooh, I wonder if that barman is working today…”
She gave her ankle one last rub and set off, happily anticipating her own next move.
* * *
That night, when Mia dropped them off at the flat, Livi and Cass found a small figure with a large suitcase sitting on their front step. As they came through the front gate and the figure stood up to meet them, Livi had to rub her eyes, cartoon-like, to believe what she was seeing. Surely not.
“Mum? What are you doing here?”
She gave a little shrug, a little smile. “I thought I’d come and visit.”
“Where’s Dad?” She looked all around, as though he might burst out from behind one of the raggedy shrubs in the front garden.
Her mother’s voice was casual, but her face gave away something more. “He’s at home, I suppose.”
Livi remembered Cam’s last email. Someone told my mother that yours had gone on holiday… Her brain strained to pull the pieces together, but refused to process what it came up with.
More tea, she thought, opening the door for her mum and picking up the suitcase. Though she knew hair, makeup, and borrowed arm candy wouldn’t fix this one. After tea, she had no idea where to begin.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Another night’s developments
* * *
These developments less fun than the last. Mum’s here. We got home from looking for the American (who we didn’t find) and she was waiting at the front door. Apparently she’s been here for a week, staying with her cousin June, who I’ve never heard of. Thinking, she says. I can’t understand why Dad hasn’t phoned, or come over even. She’s determined not to phone him, and I’m not allowed to either. She’s full of apologies, but she won’t tell me what happened. This is obviously NOT a holiday. I don’t know what to do, or what she’s going to do. Thank goodness I could go back to work today. (Never thought I’d find myself saying that.)
This is all the wrong way round, surely my parents should be the ones worrying about me still. We’re not supposed to worry about them until much later.
Sorry for the depressing message. Hope you’ve had a worry-free weekend.
xxx
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Another night’s developments
* * *
I’m really sorry—that’s no good. I don’t know what you should do either, except maybe give her time and space to do her thinking, whatever it is she’s thinking about. I’m sure she’ll talk to you about it when she’s ready, and I’m sure you’ll do the right thing. Tell me if there’s anything I can do here.
This weekend I’ve been worrying about trying to meet a deadline for a paper. It’s about how poor countries are being forced to compete with each other, and with rich industrialised nations. It’s a downward spiral—reduce wages, use cheaper resources, lower standards—which only makes people poorer in the long run. Can be an argument against globalisation. I’m writing it with James. Remember him? The only one who didn’t shave after Movember last year. Looking very dodgy by now.
Also worrying now about whether to order Chinese or Thai. Some problems are more easily solved.
Good luck with the rogue mother.
xxx
Twelve
Livi couldn’t remember a time in her life when her parents were apart for more than a few days. They weren’t perfect, she knew—there had been disagreements, like any two people who’d stuck together for almost thirty years. But now, to have them not just apart, but literally on opposite sides of the world, felt totally wrong. They were her foundation, and she’d taken their solid grounding for granted. Now she felt like she was sagging in the middle. Obviously there were people in the world with unimaginably large problems—her own life was a dream in comparison—but somehow that didn’t make her situation less upsetting. Just knowing that someone else has broken their leg, she thought, doesn’t make your sprained ankle less painful.
That morning Cass was extra solicitous, rolling a spare stool across so she could sit instead of stand behind the reception desk, leaping to answer the phone first, and intercepting Katie heading her way with a complaint.
“Sort it out yourself,” she instructed. “You’ve been here long enough. Let Livi have one quiet morning at least.”
But the enforced peace didn’t last long. At ten thirty-five, bang on time, Mattias came through the door and up to the desk.
“Good morning, Miss Callaway,” he said, holding out one of the cups he was carrying. “Here’s your hot chocolate.”
On the inside, Livi heaved a sigh. On the outside, she smiled nicely, just as she did every morning. “Thank you.”
“You are very welcome,” he said in his charmingly accented English, just as he did every morning.
A lot of things were charming about Mattias, and Livi knew he ticked all the boxes. He dressed very well. He had lovely manners. His golden blond hair looked very healthy. He was extremely intelligent. He worked hard. He was really very nice. All in all, he should have been the ideal guy. And yet, for her, the sum was somehow less than its parts. After an initial collective breath-holding, everyone in the salon had stopped waiting for romance to bloom. Mattias hadn’t stopped waiting though (as they all loved to remind her). There was an awkward patch, when she’d tried to gently make it clear that she simply didn’t feel that way. But he just kept bringing the hot chocolates, charmingly, and it didn’t seem polite to try and give them back. So she didn’t.
He worked at a translation company not far from Peach. Mia, being a good cousin, had brought him to the pub with her one night after he moved to London from Stockholm, to help him meet some people and find his feet in a new city. But when the morning visits started, she apologised on his behalf.
“He’s always been single-minded,” she said. “I suppose you wouldn’t get to be fluent in four languages otherwise. But it can be very trying.”
Or very flattering. Livi discovered that, for a person whose heart had been thoroughly squashed, perhaps a little adoration wasn’t completely unwelcome. She decided to put aside the awkwardness. If Mattias was determined to keep coming, without any hope of romance, where was the harm?
As he settled in to while away his morning tea break, leaning against the counter, the door swung open. A woman with a glossy sheen and impeccable posture entered the salon. She was so beautifully styled and made up, Livi couldn’t pick her age—somewhere in her forties, or maybe fifties. Her smooth blonde hair swept elegantly to the side, and her red wrap dress hugged a killer figure. Behind her came a lesser mortal, a young man carrying a laptop bag in one hand, and a snakeskin briefcase in the other. Mattias stood upright as she approached the reception desk.
“Livi.” It was a statement, not a question.
Livi found herself straightening up too. “Yes, that’s me.”
Mattias slipped away out the door with his coffee, feigning a scared expression.
“I thought so. She described you well,” the woman said, in beautifully modulated American tones. “I need your help.”
“Of course. What can I help you with?”
“I should be back in LA right now, but I decided to stay on for an industry function this evening,” she said. “I can do my own makeup well enough to be presentable, but not my hair.” She smiled, and immediately looked less intimidating. “My usual stylist is away, so my niece Helena recommended you.”
“Oh, Helena!” Livi smiled back. “Are things going well for her?”
“Yes, very well, thanks to you. Although I think she’s fallen in love with your Aidan.”
Livi laughed. “Well, she wouldn’t be the first. He’s not here today, or you could have met him.”
“Oh, that’s a shame. I heard he was quite something.”
“He really is,” Livi agreed. “But it was Will who did Helena’s hair, and he’s working today. I think he could fit you in.”
“Will it is then. I’m Rachael Radner. And this is Scott. We might need some extra space.”
Before long she was settled in a corner of the salon, juggling black coffee and an iPhone, Scott frantically finding papers and taking notes. She and Will bonded immediately over some mutual Aidan admiration, and soon they were laughing and joking together while he started her hair.
Cass came and stood with Livi at the desk, admiring. “She’s quite something herself. Really classy.”
Then they saw her take a call, and her face hardened as the conversation progressed. She held up a hand for Will to wait and they strained their ears, resisting the urge to sidle closer.
“We’ll have to keep negotiating then…no, I don’t want to offer any more money yet…was that what the author said himself?” She tapped a manicured nail on the arm of her chair. “Damn it, I’m going to get this one. I’ll call you shortly.”
She sat back, pressing the phone against her chin thoughtfully while Will hovered. Livi gave in to her curiosity and went over.
“Is everything all right?”
She sighed. “I’m trying to get the film rights for a book. An amazing book. You know, one of those forget to feed the children, stay up all night, read until you’re cross-eyed books.”
Livi and Will nodded. “Except for the feeding the children part,” he said.
“Well, apparently the author isn’t convinced that my company is the right one for his book. But if I could talk to him directly, I think I could convince him.”
“Will you try?” Livi asked.
“I’ll have to. The difficulty is, he’s Estonian, and he doesn’t speak good English. I read the book in translation. His publisher there is doing all the negotiating, and they seem determined to tangle up every production company in the Western world. I think time’s running out, but if I could just tell the author how I feel about the story before someone else gets to him…”
Will looked at Livi. “Isn’t that one of the languages Mattias-the-genius speaks?”
“I think so.” She hesitated. Mattias would love this. Well, while she was in the swing of doing good deeds... She turned to Rachael. “Mattias is, um, a friend, who works for a translation company near here. Would you like me to contact him?”
“Yes! You would be a superstar. Thank you very, very much.”
“You’re welcome. Hopefully it will actually help.”
Will raised a warning eyebrow at her as she turned to go. “You do realise, now you’ll owe him one.”
* * *
Unsurprisingly, Mattias was more than happy to drop everything and come back to Peach when Livi called. Before long he and Rachael—hair beautifully done—and Scott were ensconced in the staffroom, ready to do battle via speaker phone.
As Livi left them to it, she could hear him talking. “Swedish, of course. Estonian and Finnish, which are not completely different. But it’s cheating a little to count Finnish as a foreign language, because my father is from Helsinki. And you really can’t count English, everyone has English…”
Smarty-pants. She smiled and shook her head as she taped a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door. Back to the day’s regular jobs.
Then her heart sank as she looked across the salon and saw her mother talking to Cass. Please, she thought, please, no drama. She braced herself and went over.
“Hi, Mum.”
“Hello, sweetheart. Sorry I didn’t see you before you left this morning. You look lovely.”
She took Livi’s hand and held it out to one side, the better to appreciate her swing skirt and sheer blouse, both in regulation salon black.
“That’s okay, you must be tired. You look lovely too.” And she did. In a dark blue suit with a neat nipped-in waist, her hair shorter than it used to be, and even heels, Livi thought she looked years younger. “What are you dressed up for?”
“Thank you! I’m off to my orientation this afternoon, for work. I’m going to be a walking tour guide. Sights of Royal London.”
Livi practically fell off her own heels. “You…what?” Her head pounded. “Work?”
“Yes. You girls have both been very kind, but I know I’ve been in your way. I’d hoped to stay on at June’s, but her daughter was coming back from abroad. Now that I’m working, I’ll be able to give you some money and find my own place.”
“But what about…” Words jostled and elbowed each other on her tongue, but she couldn’t get anything sensible out. “Dad. Home.”
“Mmm.” She avoided Livi’s eyes. “No, not right now.”
“Not right now? What does that mean?”
“It means June has found me a great job, and I’m going to have some fun, and a change. I think you know about that.”
“No, this is not the same. It’s not the same at all.”
Tears threatened, but she held them back. Cass stepped in and gently steered them both to the sofa, luckily empty of clients. They sat in silence for a while, one pulling herself together, one waiting.
Finally her mum spoke. “Livi, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but a lot of things changed after you left.”
“Don’t say you’re blaming me.” She pulled a tissue from the box she’d offered Helena not many days before. In the life she had before this.
“I’m not blaming. I’m just saying I started to…think. And after my birthday, I knew I had to do something. Another year had gone, and it was just…gone. One after the other, faster and faster.”
“What about Dad?”
She looked uncomfortable. “Well, I left him a letter. And I arranged for someone to cover for me at work. You know, Melanie, she helps us out quite often.”
“So…you didn’t tell him yourself?”
“No.”
“So he found your letter, and then he went to work, what, the next day, and Melanie was there at your desk?”
“Yes. I have to admit, that wasn’t the best thing to do.” She screwed up her nose, had the grace to look rueful. “But I needed a clean break.”
Livi looked at her, agog. Who was this woman? The mother she’d last seen, conscientious, steady, patient—an accountant, for God’s sake!—seemed completely unrelated to the runaway sitting next to her. Someone who would plan her getaway so secretly and carefully.
Then something occurred to her.
“Mum, I have to ask. Is there someone else?” She didn’t want to know, and she had to know.
“Yes, I suppose there is.” Livi caught her breath, but her mum continued. “It’s me. The other me. The me I forgot.” Her voice broke, and she reached for a tissue too.
Livi felt her heart give a little. “Oh, Mum. But couldn’t you remember yourself together with Dad? Doesn’t he remember you too?”
“I don’t know.” A small sob escaped. Livi slid closer and gave her a hug, not knowing what else to say or do.
Just then the staffroom door opened and Rachael emerged, followed by Mattias and Scott. All three looked elated. Livi stood up as quickly as she could, composing herself.
“We got it!” Rachael raised triumphant fists in the air. “Livi, I don’t know where you found this man, but he is brilliant.” Mattias demurred modestly, but looked thoroughly pleased. “What were the odds? Thank you so much, both of you.”
Livi’s mum stood up and quietly tried to edge away, tucking the tissue in her pocket, but Rachael saw her. “Oh, I’m sorry, you were with someone.”
“This is my mum, Evelyn,” Livi said. “Mum, this is Mattias, Rachael, and Scott.”
“Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Rachael exclaimed. “You must be very proud of Livi, she’s just great. I have kids too, you know, I only wish they were as helpful. I suppose most moms would say the same.”
Mattias stepped forward. “Lovely to meet you, Evelyn,” he said, shaking hands in his formal northern European manner. “I agree, Livi is wonderful. As you must be. You obviously did a very good job.”
The Near & Far Series Page 64
