by Rachel Dove
‘Mum, I just don’t want to listen to you talk about what a total loser I am, because I already knoooooow-woooo-woooo-waaa!’ She dissolved into a full-on ugly cry, her words just little squeaks and snot bubbles. Her mother’s face filled the screen, and she saw that she’d picked it up and was holding it close.
‘Rebecca, come on. Don’t do that!’ Her mum patted the screen with her fingers, making it go haywire for a second. ‘These bloody touch screens!’ She jabbed at the screen, and Rebecca had stopped crying enough to see her mother come back into view. ‘Don’t do that. I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone! Why didn’t you tell me!’
‘Because you don’t listen Mum! You never do. You never listen to what I actually say. You hear what you want to hear.’ She blew her nose on an old tissue from the bed, honking loudly. ‘Oh, what’s the point.’ She flopped back on the bed, her head hitting the pillows. Taking the phone with her, her mother was still staring at her.
‘I do listen Rebecca, but I worry about you.’ Her face softened. ‘This is the first time I’ve had any emotion but ignorance and pure anger from you in years.’ Her mother went to the fridge and Rebecca saw her pull out a corked bottle of Chardonnay.
‘Mum, day drinking is going a bit far. I’m not that bad.’
Her mother ignored her, taking a glass from the cabinet on her way back to the table. Putting Rebecca back resting on the prop, she slowly poured the wine to the brim.
‘Bugger it, it’s good for you now and again.’ She took a deep sip and looked at the camera.
‘Rebecca Daphne Atkins, I love you, but you are a huge worry for me.’
‘Mum, not a lect—’
‘I’m talking now, I have the talking glass.’ She raised her glass and took another sip. ‘When you were a girl, you wanted to walk. So badly, you didn’t even wait to crawl. Do you know that? You didn’t want to take that middle step, and you were like that your whole life. When my friends’ daughters and sons were getting married, having babies, going to university, I used to look at you and think, she knows what she wants.’
Rebecca lay there, listening to her mother speak.
‘You always knew what you wanted, till that day. You never needed an audience, you never wanted anyone to notice, you just loved it. When your accident happened, I felt like you died.’
Rebecca was stunned. ‘I thought they called you, right after.’ She realised that for the first time, she was thinking about how her mother and father must have felt. Her dad never gave her any grief like her mother had, but he had treated her differently than before when they spoke on the phone. She never wanted them to come cheer her on, but they always watched back home. If I ever had a daughter, and saw her go through that, well. ‘The team had your details, I made sure they called.’
Cecilia Daphne Atkins pulled the screen closer.
‘You are my baby, my bright shining star, and you were hurt. Hundreds of miles away, on your own, without us. Your father nearly had kittens on the sofa. You didn’t die that day, but I never got my daughter back. The last time we spoke before the accident, you were so happy. Excited for the future, the competition. After, I couldn’t even get you to call me back. Robbie went AWOL. The man spent Christmases here, but he was just gone. Unavailable. What did you want me to do? You didn’t want me there.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?’ Rebecca realised that she had been punishing her mother for trying to get her daughter back.
Cecilia smiled, her eyes filling again. ‘Because you were shattered, my darling, I didn’t want you to hate me any more than you already did. I just wanted you to try again, to be you. Whatever “you” was. I know I put you under pressure, but you never told me anything! I just wanted you to be happy again.’
‘I saw Robbie,’ she admitted, and her mother’s face was a picture. ‘He’s come back for the competition. It didn’t go well.’
Her mother sat back in her chair, filling her wine glass up.
‘Your dad never liked him, you know.’
‘Where is Dad?’
Cecilia thumbed behind her to the open patio doors that led out to the garden. ‘He’s in his man cave, banging about. He’s in a mood, the football match didn’t go well.’
Rebecca rolled her eyes, wincing at the pain it produced. It felt like a tequila worm was burrowing into her forehead with Doc Martens on.
‘Typical Dad.’
‘Yeah I know. I should have held out a bit longer before I married him. Could have trained him up a bit more.’
They giggled together, and Rebecca realised that this was the first conversation they had had in forever that didn’t end up in an argument.
‘I told him off. Robbie, not Luke. Well, I told Luke off too.’ She looked towards the door, but he wasn’t magically standing there. ‘That’s why he left. Why didn’t Dad like Robbie, anyway? He never showed it.’
Cecilia took another sip.
‘He put up with him because you were happy, or we thought you were.’
Rebecca pushed the air out of her lips with a pfff sound.
‘He thought my accident was going to be the springboard for a whole new life, a life I never wanted. I just didn’t want to anymore.’
‘And now?’
Rebecca pursed her lips.
‘Luke entered me into the competition. The Alpine Challenge. It’s in seven weeks. He’s in it too, novice round. He thought I needed a push.’
‘Sounds familiar. Have you called him?’
Rebecca shook her head. ‘Not yet. You woke me, remember?’
Her mother groaned.
‘Again, only teenagers sleep till this time on a weekend.’
Rebecca opened her mouth to say something catty back, an old habit, but her mother placed both hands on the table and leaned in.
‘Rebecca, I know it’s been hard, God knows I do. I just want you to know, whatever you decide, it’s fine with us. If you want to come home, start again, I won’t give you any hassle.’ Rebecca’s snort said it all. ‘I mean it love. Your dad and I just want you to be happy, that’s it. I don’t care if you’re a ski champion, or a baker. I just want you to be you again. I miss my daughter.’
Rebecca welled up, and her mother sniffed loudly.
‘I know Mum, I’m sorry.’ Her mother blew a kiss at her, and it made her think of Frank, and Luke. Parents, they all had their little ways of making you feel connected. Loved. ‘I love you. Tell Dad I’ll call soon.’
Her mother wiped at her eyes, draining her glass.
‘Woo, I needed that.’ She grinned, and Rebecca grinned back. ‘I love you, chicken. Can I say one thing?’ She lifted her pinkie finger comically and made a begging face.
‘Go on. One thing. In the spirit of our new mother—daughter friendship.’
Her mother’s grin exploded then, bursting all over her face. ‘I like that. Okay, here it is. Call Luke.’
Rebecca wasn’t expecting that. Picking a man over a comp, and one her mum hadn’t even credit-checked and had vetted by the secret service yet? This was new territory.
‘You heard me say novice, right? He’s entering it for … for fun, so he’s not another Robbie.’
Her mother shook her head. ‘Robbie never made you break down to your mother, dear. Your gran always said to me, “Marry the man who provokes the biggest reaction.”’
Rebecca frowned, pulling a face.
‘It’s true, you know.’ She looked behind her furtively. ‘When I met your father, he made me so cross sometimes, so mad I could spit. He was my best friend, and my partner. The good bits, the life together, that’s why people bother. Call him. You forgave me, right?’
She went to top up her glass once more, but the bottle was empty. She shrugged, reaching across out of reach of the screen, and coming back into frame with another bottle.
‘Mum!’ Rebecca laughed. ‘Do not open that wine!’
She tucked it under her arm, grabbing her glass.
‘I’m going to see your dad! I
can have another.’ Picking the phone up, she made a kissing action at the screen. ‘I’m celebrating today. My daughter loves me, and she has a boyfriend.’
Rebecca kissed the screen back.
‘Bye Mum.’
When the camera went off, Rebecca dialled Luke’s number. It went to voicemail. Shit. She dialled Holly, and she answered on the second ring.
‘Hi, you okay? I’ve been waiting for you to call. Hungover?’ How did she know? ‘Luke said he could hear you in your room, singing the tequila song.’ Cringe. No wonder he’d left.
‘Oh God. Is he there?’
‘Er …’
‘I was mad Holly, I didn’t handle it well. Did you know he’d entered me in the competition?’
‘I didn’t till this morning. I told him off too, but he’s really sorry. He was pretty upset Becks, he thinks you hate him.’
Rebecca jumped out of bed, ignoring the roil of her stomach as she tried to look around for something half decent to wear.
‘I don’t hate him, I …’ She pulled a sweater over her head, not bothering to look for a bra. ‘Oh look, can you keep him there? I’m on my way over.’
‘No!’ She had almost rung off but Holly’s shout stopped her just as she was reaching for a pair of jeans. ‘He’s not here. Becks, I’m sorry. His dad had a fall today, doing physiotherapy.’
‘Frank?’ She shoved one leg through her jeans, and got halfway with the other one before realising that her back pockets were at the front. ‘Is he okay?’
‘Yeah Becks, Frank’s okay. He hurt himself, but … Luke left.’
‘Left to go where?’
Holly sighed, and Rebecca knew what was coming.
‘He left on a flight an hour ago. Hans drove him to the airport. He’s gone home.’
Chapter 11
‘Luke!’ Marilyn ran down the hospital corridor at him. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ She grabbed him in a perfume-soaked hug, and he hugged her to him. A second later, he felt a clip around the ear. ‘I told you not to come! What about Rebecca?’
She looked behind him as though Rebecca was going to pop out.
‘She didn’t make the trip. How is he? Dante is in there at the minute. He doesn’t quit work, does he?’
‘He was there when your dad fell. He blames himself, but he’s doing better Luke. He’s trying.’
Dante popped his head around the door, looking Luke up and down.
‘Lukey boy, you look just like your dad. He’s all ready for you.’ He pulled a face at one of the nurses walking past, and she stuck her tongue out at him. ‘The breakfast is gross here. I’m going to go get him something from the café before I go.’
‘No bacon!’ Marilyn checked, and Dante laughed.
‘Fake stuff only, I know.’ He lolloped off. Luke pushed open the door, and there in a room on his own, was Frank.
‘Hi Dad,’ he said, walking over to the bed. His dad did a double take when he saw who was standing at the door.
‘Luke,’ he said, clear as a bell. ‘Here.’
He motioned for his son to come, and Luke sat on the bed and hugged his father tight. He could feel his dad’s arms slowly close around him. He felt different, fragile in his arms. He patted his son on the back with his good arm. Just like he had since he was born.
‘What are you doing here?’
Luke sat in front of his dad and checked him over. He had a dressing on, covering his newly stitched-up head, and a bruise on his cheek.
‘I came to see you, obviously. You didn’t need to headbutt the floor to see me though, you could have just called.’
Frank chuckled.
‘Rebecca?’
Marilyn was standing beside Frank now. She nudged him, and he ignored her.
‘Is she here?’
Luke kissed his dad on the top of his head and took a seat in one of the chairs next to the bed.
‘That’s a bit of a long story, Dad.’
‘Well,’ Frank said, settling down and patting the bed for Marilyn to sit down. ‘We are here all day.’
Luke smiled sadly at them both, and started to talk about France, the plans and the girl in the Alpine café.
Chapter 12
Six weeks later – one week till competition day
‘Mum, you’re dying to ask, so just ask.’
Rebecca dumped the tray of burned croissants into the bin. It has half full of wasted baking. She went over to the oven, frowning at her error. Turning the oven down to the correct temperature, she checked on the fresh batch she’d just sent to a fiery death. Luckily, they might just survive with a bit of a tan. She needed to get some of it right, or she’d have nothing left to serve.
‘Have you heard from him?’ Her mother was looking at her from her phone, which was propped up on the chicken timer. She could see Dad in the corner, reading in his chair and pretending not to listen. The man had floppy ears that were dog-like, so she could see that he was earwigging. Every now and then, he’d turn the page.
‘No. He’s spoken to Hans a bit. His dad’s getting better all the time, they’re even talking about him going home soon. Luke’s staying at his dad’s I guess, or his place. I dunno.’
We’re both alone. I know that. He’d been away from her a lot longer than she’d known him in life, but it felt like forever. On both counts.
‘Have you tried to call him?’ Her dad looked at the screen as his wife spoke, turning the newspaper page to cover his tracks. Rebecca wiped down the surfaces, clearing away as she went.
‘No, and I’m not going to. I don’t know what’s going on with his dad, and … I’m still mad too.’
Her mother tutted loudly.
‘Rebecca, if I hear that one more time! You were going to go to Holly’s and get him back!’
‘He broke my trust!’
‘You told me you were already going to apply! You were going to send it in, weren’t you?’
‘No.’ She crossed her arms, pouting like a teenager. ‘Was not.’
‘Yes you were, you told that bloody flash Herbert ex of yours you were! You could have corrected Luke at that party, you didn’t for a reason.’
Rebecca stamped her foot.
‘So!’
Her dad turned the page again and huffed, blowing the pages out. Rebecca rolled her eyes.
‘The jig’s up Dad, I can tell you’re listening. Do you have something to say?’
He ignored her, turning the page again and suddenly looking very absorbed in reading.
‘Dad, it’s upside down.’
Cecilia turned to look at him, laughing her head off.
‘You’re such a berk, Mick! Come here!’
Mick, who was still in his dressing gown, put the paper down and came to sit next to his wife. She giggled, and he stuck his bottom lip out.
‘It nearly worked. You’re a berk,’ he said this to his wife, who just laughed in his face.
‘Oh, so you are listening. Tell your stubborn daughter to ring Luke!’
‘Do as your mother says.’
‘Not like that!’
‘I did what you said!’
‘You’re a total berk Dad, but I love you. I can’t call him, I don’t want to bother him.’
‘The poor boy is probably feeling very alone right now, sat at the hospital all those hours,’ her dad retorted.
‘Frank’s not in a coma, Mum, he had a stroke. He’s in recovery.’
‘Still, it’s not nice. You know that.’ She bit her lip. Progress like that had been gradual all month, but now she was on a somewhat normal level with her parents. They even spoke every day, or rather she and Mum did. Dad was usually pretending to screw something into a wall, or grouting tiles in the background. Now, he sat right next to her. Progress.
‘Hospitals are strange places. They hold so many emotions.’ Her mum’s voice went a bit floaty.
Mick looked at her, his face aghast.
‘That line was on Grey’s Anatomy last night!’
‘Shut up, Mick!
It was not!’
‘Yes, it was! Her that was married to Derek what’s-his-face said it to the other one.’
‘It was not! Go back to your paper! You are no help!’
‘No help! I’m here, aren’t I?’
‘Guys, I really need to get cracking. The café’s due to open and I need to get changed.’
‘Okay love, well ring him, okay?’
Her dad said something else, but the door opened and Hans came running into the café. He nearly took the door off and was halfway across the café before he managed to stop himself. He looked at her, startled, his beard and hair all over the place. He looked like a lion with serious bed head.
‘Hans?’
Wild-eyed, he tried to speak. ‘Bay! Bay!’
‘What? Listen guys, Hans is here. Better go. Love you!’
She clicked off the call, shoving her phone in her apron pocket.
‘Hans? What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Bay! Bay!’
His needle was stuck. All he needed was a set of cymbals to bang together monotonously and the look was complete.
‘Bay-beee! Car! Holly!’ He jabbed his hands in the direction of the windows, and she could see Holly taking deep breaths on the back seat.
‘Shit! Baby!’ Rebecca said, twigging on.
Hans nodded, jumping and pointing at her. ‘Baby! Fuck! Baby!’
‘Okay, okay!’ Switching everything off, she grabbed her coat and keys, running out of the door. A second later, she realised that Hans wasn’t with her. She ran back in and dragged him out outside.
‘Go to the car, I’ll lock up!’
‘Okay! Baby! Coming!’ He dashed to the car, and she locked up, flicking the sign closed. She’d text for cover from the car. She ran around the far side of the vehicle, and jumping in, she reached for her friend’s hand. Holly looked as gorgeous as always, relatively unruffled, if a little sweaty.
‘You okay?’ Rebecca asked. ‘How bad is it, from walnut to watermelon?’
Holly squeezed her hand tight, making her nails dig into Rebecca’s skin. From the look she was giving her, Rebecca wasn’t quite sure that she didn’t mean it.
