by Shari Low
Like I said… fantasy.
But there was one tiny nugget of hope. If he didn’t make partner, then perhaps I could persuade him to take a chance on this. Sure, it was a gamble. Shows got cancelled all the time. Projects got shelved before they even got started. Mark, who needed security, concrete plans, bloody pensions, struggled with the very thought of those kinds of risks. But if the partnership didn’t materialise, if his morale was low, if he started to question his commitment to the rat race, maybe – just maybe – I could persuade him to take a chance on this. On me.
The ping of another text interrupted my thoughts.
You’ll work it out. Goodnight, Cooper…
A wave of sadness. I knew Sam was cutting short the conversation because he didn’t want to interfere in my marriage. He’d tried that once before. He’d wanted to love me, to build a life over there, but I’d chosen Mark. At the time, my husband had made big promises: he’d work less, he’d be more present, he’d support my career, he’d do more with the boys, we’d make time for each other. It had lasted for a while, then life had taken over and we’d slipped back to the same old ways.
Did I resent it? Quietly. In a pathetically passive way. I made deals with myself. When the boys were older, I’d focus on my dreams again. By that time, Mark would have found a better work/life balance and we’d reignite our romantic spark and have endless laughs and great sex until it was time for the Zimmer frames.
But maybe we could have all that now? Except the Zimmers, obviously.
‘Mum, you didn’t tell me what day it was today?’ Mac had wandered back into the room, clutching a light sabre.
Before I could answer, my phone buzzed again.
Another text from Sam.
And, Cooper… happy birthday.
I had never missed someone more.
Before I could reply, our early-warning system advised us of an imminent arrival.
‘Daddy’s home!’ Benny squealed, as the front door opened again.
It was Mark. But not just any Mark. This was excited, alive, thrilled, enthusiastic, grinning, gorgeous Mark.
‘We got it!’ He picked me up, swung me around. ‘The Regen contract. We got it! We didn’t think we’d hear until next week, but they called while I was in the office.’
The boys were picking up on his energy and squealing with delight, so he put me down and scooped them up.
‘This is it, boys! Daddy’s got a brilliant new job! How will we celebrate?’
‘Can we get a swimming pool?’ Mac blurted, excitedly.
‘Beans!’ Benny shouted. ‘Let’s get beans!’
If my heart hadn’t plummeted to my walnut floor, I’d have been dancing with them.
‘Yes! A swimming pool and beans. At the same time.’ The boys were still cheering when Mark put them down and let them conga off back to their toys.
All his attention came back to me as he kissed me, his hands on my face, the way he used to do once upon a time when we were young and besotted and he couldn’t get enough of me.
‘I know I’ve been so wrapped up in this, and I’m sorry.’
‘That’s okay,’ I said, smiling. It wasn’t, but I couldn’t bring myself to dent his joy – even if mine had just left the building.
‘Babe, this is going to set us up for life. Better salary, great pension…’
Argh, that fucking pension!
‘Security for the boys.’ There it was. The kicker. Mark’s job would give us the kind of stability that mine never would.
‘And, Cooper,’ he said, his voice low now, oozing happiness and love, ‘I bought you this.’ He pulled a little velvet box from his jacket pocket and held it out to me.
Still wordless, heart still thudding, desperately trying to balance love and despair, I took it, opened it.
‘It’s an eternity ring,’ he whispered, as he took the beautiful band of diamonds from the velvet cushion and slipped it on my finger. ‘Happy birthday, my love.’
He hadn’t forgotten.
Through tear-filled eyes, I stared at the ring sitting snugly on my finger. Eternity.
‘Oh, and I think we might have visitors,’ he grinned, pulling away, reaching over to open the back door.
Kate. Carol. Jess. Sarah. Husbands. Kids. Our whole extended framily.
‘Surprise!’ they cheered.
Somewhere in the midst of the hugs and kisses and celebrations, I slipped the brown envelope into the bin.
28
Back In LA, 2019
Fight Song – Rachel Platten
‘Cooper – you came back!’ Kate exclaimed cheekily, setting off a rousing cheer from the others, all of them sitting on stools at Sam’s outdoor bar, except Val, who, despite the late hour, was lying in the pool on her shiny new Statue of Liberty inflatable lilo, balancing a cocktail in one hand and a book in the other. There was a snapshot I’d keep in my mind until the end of time. She was obviously taking her political asylum in the Republic of Sam very seriously.
I gave a mock bow of thanks, shrugging off the melancholy Sam had caused with his comment.
‘I’ll tell you my problem. Last time Mark asked you to go back to him, you went. And how did that work out for you?’
We both knew the answer to the question. All the promises Mark had made about spending more time with us, about supporting my career, about nurturing our marriage had all drifted away on a raft of work, commitments and pressures. There were payoffs, of course. We lived in a nice home, the boys loved their lives, and I carved out a career that I could work around taking care of my family. Somewhere along the line, I decided that was enough and I made it work. Until I couldn’t. Sarah’s death had changed everything. The grief and pain wiped out the energy I need to carry on the façade that I had a happy marriage and a fulfilled life. I’d loved Mark Barwick for most of my life, but that wasn’t enough to stop us from falling apart.
Maybe the last few days had changed that. Maybe I could believe what he said about learning lessons, changing, priorities. Maybe it was time to make myself happy again.
I jumped as Sam’s voice cut through my thoughts. I hadn’t realised that he’d come out behind me. ‘Ladies, I’m hitting the road. My flight to Toronto leaves in a couple of hours.’
What? He hadn’t mentioned that. He’d said he was going out on set tomorrow, not tonight. Had he just booked it? Was he making it up because he wanted to get away from me after our blowout? We were only going to be there for four more days and he was going off in a sulk?
Well, screw Sam Morton. What did he know? He was the one who was living with a female who spent half an hour a day getting her arse vibrated so it was pert. What right did he have to lecture me on life choices and personal fulfilment? If he was going out of town, then at least I could spend the rest of the holiday free of his sanctimonious judgement. I ignored the fact that my heart was screaming a rebuttal to that thought.
I watched as he hugged everyone, then nodded in my direction as he passed me.
‘See you later, Cooper.’
Then he was gone.
‘Holy crap, what happened there?’ Jess gasped. She was on the end stool, sitting next to Arnie, who was now up and following Sam into the house.
‘Don’t ask,’ I said curtly, way too pissed off and heartsore to go there. Right now, I had a different priority, and she was noticeably missing from this gathering. ‘Where’s Toni?’ I asked, keeping my voice light and casual.
‘In bed,’ Carol replied, with a sigh. ‘The poor thing has come down with some kind of bug. She’s been sick as a donkey since we got back.’
I didn’t want to admit that I knew all about that bastard bug.
‘I’ll just go and say hello.’
The sliding glass doors to the bright and airy guest house were wide open, but the door to the bedroom was closed. I knocked. No reply.
‘Toni? It’s me.’
Nothing.
‘Can I come in?’
Nothing.
Anxiety was
now making my skin prickle. There were two options. Give her space, or…
I opened the door gently in case she was sleeping, a fair guess given that the curtains were closed. But no. She was sitting up, staring straight ahead, and even in the dim light, I could see her hair was limp, her skin was pale, the circles under her eyes were dark and desperate.
‘Oh, honey,’ I whispered, closing the door behind me.
She didn’t object, didn’t cry, didn’t say a word when I crossed the room, sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped my arms around her.
‘Toni, this can’t go on. We need to talk.’
‘I’m fine. I’m just not feeling well,’ she sniffed.
No. No more. We were done with this. She was hurting and it was time for it to end, even if that meant some uncomfortable truths.
I let her go and went over to the curtains and pulled them open. At least I tried to. They didn’t budge. I tried again, almost dislocating my shoulders in the process.
‘Aunt Carly, there’s a switch for that,’ she said, and I turned back to see her flick a chrome knob beside the headboard. The curtains slid open.
‘Eh, I knew that,’ I blustered, trying to make her smile. It didn’t work.
Back over at the bed, I sat down, took her hand.
‘Sweetheart, the next five minutes are going to sting, but there’s no other way. I know about Taylor Fuckwidget…’ I couldn’t remember his surname and that seemed apt. ‘I know about the photographs, and the post he put up. And I know that text I saw came from him.’
She visibly shrank as she wailed, ‘Noooooo.’
‘Toni, honey…’
‘I’m so… so… sorry,’ she sobbed, crumbling in front of my eyes.
‘Toni, why are you sorry? This isn’t on you.’
That softened the sobs, as she looked up at me with those beautiful big eyes and I thought about Toni at eight, at ten, at fourteen, that happy, carefree little kid who had always been shy but who bubbled with happiness and laughter.
It was taking every bit of me to hold down the rage at what had happened to her, because that wasn’t what she needed right now.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Hang on,’ I told her, before going into the bathroom and coming back with toilet roll and baby wipes. I gave her the toilet roll first. ‘I couldn’t see any tissues, but you need to blow your nose. I can’t concentrate when there’s snot.’
That caused a glimmer of a smile – it was a start.
I took out a baby wipe, sat back on the bed, and gently wiped her face of tears.
‘Okay, the version I have of this story. Tell me if I’ve got any of it wrong.’
There was still fear in her face as I began to speak.
‘You were seeing this boy, and he told you he liked you…’
‘He said… he said he loved me,’ she whispered.
I sighed. ‘Bastard.’
There was a flash of surprise. We always made a point of being respectable grown-ups who didn’t swear in front of the kids. That had just gone right out of the electric-curtained window.
‘Anyway, he asked you to send him pictures, and you knew you probably shouldn’t, because we’ve told you all a million times not to do that…’ I wasn’t letting her off the hook completely. ‘But you liked him…’
‘I thought I loved him.’
‘So you did send him the photos.’
A nod.
‘And then what happened?’
A pause, until finally, ‘He wanted to have sex.’ Her voice was husky from crying. ‘And when I said I wanted to wait a while; he didn’t like it. I kinda saw… I don’t know how to explain it. I got scared. I saw who he was, so I told him I didn’t want to go out with him any more. He said if I dumped him, he’d show people the photographs.’
‘When was this, Toni?’ I needed to get it all straight in my head.
‘I started seeing him at the beginning of the year.’
‘Och, sweetheart.’ I pushed her hair back off her tear stained face. ‘Why didn’t you come and tell me when it got messy?’
She shrugged. ‘I couldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want to say what I’d done.’
‘I might have to come back and talk about that later,’ I told her, trying to make her smile. It almost worked. ‘Tell me what’s happening now.’
She sighed and her eyes filled again. ‘He posted one of the photos on a chat, but you can’t see my face. He sent a screenshot of it to me to prove he’d done it. He says if I really do finish with him, though, he’ll post the other photos online. That’s what that text you saw was about.’
Really, bitch? Don’t you fucking dare or you know what’s coming.
It all made sense now. Dump him and he’d post more photos of her.
‘There is another one too. A worse one. Where my hands aren’t covering me. I’m sorry,’ she sobbed again. ‘I really am. I don’t know what to do.’
‘Toni,’ I said, gentle but firm. ‘Enough. Please stop crying.’ I took both her hands again as she swallowed back another sob. ‘Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. You know how your mum and I…’
‘Oh God, please don’t tell my mum!’
I just kept right on talking. ‘Your mum and I, and Aunt Kate and Jess, and Aunt Sarah when she was here… We’ve all been friends our whole lives. And I can’t tell you how many mistakes we’ve made, and how much trouble we’ve got into and how many times we’ve bailed each other out. We’re experts at messing stuff up and fixing it. Well, except Aunt Kate. She’s pretty angelic. Anyway, I need you to trust me. We – both of us – are going to tell your mum. And then, if it’s okay with you, we’ll tell the others because they love you and I don’t want you to be worrying that they’ll find out some other way. They’ll have your back too, and we’ll come up with a plan to stop this happening to you. I promise, Toni – we’ve got you, my darling. We’ll take care of you.’
‘But…’ she began to argue, then realised that she was out of options. This was the only life raft on the boat.
‘Is that okay?’ I asked.
After a few hesitant seconds, she nodded.
I called Carol in, and we sat her down, and between us, we managed to get the whole story out again. She was devastated, upset, regretful, sorry, furious… all the emotions that were completely natural for a mother in this situation. Most of all, though, she reacted in exactly the way I knew she would – she held Toni, told her she loved her and that we’d work it out.
A couple of hours later, sitting around a table with Val, Jess and Kate, it had all come out.
‘Jesus suffering, Toni, you should have told us,’ Val chided gently. ‘Didn’t we all get into bad situations at your age. The problem is, all these bloody cameras and this bloody internet. I’d ban the lot of it, I really would. Except the Tom Jones videos.’
‘Val’s right. We all made mistakes at your age,’ Jess agreed, then in her usual no-filter, blunt manner, went on. ‘Your Aunt Carly probably made the most though. Didn’t you once go to a club in Amsterdam where everyone was naked?’
I shot her daggers. ‘I think we’re moving slightly off topic here. Anyway, are we all agreed on the plan?’
Naturally, Toni looked terrified, but she was bolstered by the positivity coming from the rest of us.
‘Right then. Go ahead and call him,’ I urged her, as encouraging as I could be.
We’d already worked out that it would be early morning in the UK so hopefully he’d answer.
She put her phone on the table so that she was the only one he’d be able to see on screen and pressed the FaceTime button with a shaking hand.
‘You’ve got this,’ I promised, holding her free hand under the table. ‘Remember, just pass him to me when you’re ready.’
She nodded, staring at the ringing phone. We’d decided that I would be the adult intervention in this situation, because Carol didn’t trust herself not to completely lose it. Also, just in case there was any comeback, it was far bett
er to have an anonymous person dealing with this, rather than a YouTube influencer with three million followers who could propel it right into the public eye. That wouldn’t help anyone, least of all, Toni. Val had volunteered, but she would almost definitely make death threats so we’d put the kibosh on that. Kate was too nice, Jess would have him arrested. So in the end, it came down to me and Carol settled for furtively recording the whole thing from the side, out of shot, so he wouldn’t realise she was doing it.
Still ringing.
‘Yo,’ he said, as the screen cleared, and a Justin Bieber lookalike appeared. ‘Wellllllllll, look who it is.’
Keep calm, I told myself. Toni knew what to say.
Toni managed to keep her voice steady. ‘I got your screenshot of the photo you shared.’
‘Didn’t think I’d do it?’ he leered.
I’ve never felt the urge to punch someone more.
‘Didn’t show yer face though. Not that kinda guy. It was just a bit of a laugh.’ His smirk elevated my blood pressure straight into the hypertension bracket.
‘It wasn’t funny.’
‘C’mon, Toni, chill out.’
‘I want you to delete them. You promised.’
‘Changed my mind.’ He shrugged, like it was nothing. Like he was high on power, Getting off on hurting our girl.
‘Taylor, please…’ She was doing so well, but I could hear the anxiety starting to build and she was squeezing my hand so hard my fingertips were turning blue.
‘I’m going to hang on to them. You know, in case I ever need… a favour.’ The way he said it made it entirely clear what the favour was.
I cracked. My eyes flicked to Toni’s, I nodded, she slid the phone around so that he had full view of me on the screen. We’d practised this. I was going to be cool. Be calm. I was going to maturely point out the error of his ways, and I was going to persuade him that deleting them was the right thing to do.
