by Nicola Gill
Laura thought about the things she was ashamed of with her mum. Not going to see her enough, going to see her but not being nice enough, getting irritable when she asked for the blanket one minute and complained she was hot the next. The list was endless.
Ann was talking now, her voice barely audible over the clatter of the choir arriving for rehearsal. Rosie hadn’t been a planned baby.
‘Mmm hmm,’ Jenni said, nodding.
Billy hadn’t been planned either. Well, of course he hadn’t. If she and Jon had had to decide they were ready to be parents, it never would have happened. How could two people who couldn’t keep a houseplant alive have a baby? Jon had looked horrified when Laura had first told him she’d done a test and it was positive, and she had known if she’d suggested a termination, he’d have leapt at the idea. But the second he had held Billy, he’d fallen instantly and deeply in love with him. In one of the many rows Laura had had with her mother about Jon, Evie had accused him of not taking his role as a father seriously enough.
‘He’s a great dad,’ Laura had said.
Evie had rolled her eyes. ‘He’s a great big man-baby!’
‘She had colic,’ Ann whispered. ‘I paced the floor with her screaming night after night. I felt very sorry for myself.’
Laura had to look away from Ann (Laura would definitely make a rubbish therapist). She knew the thinking behind groups like these. That other people’s experiences would help you make sense of your own. But sometimes it felt like you were just soaking up even more pain.
Chapter Seventy-Three
As Laura turned into her road, her head still full of the conversations at grief group, she saw her sister in her front garden. Bizarrely, it looked as if Jess was pulling up weeds.
‘Just popped round for a spot of night-time gardening, have you?’ Laura said.
‘Haha. I was waiting for you and I thought I might as well make myself useful.’
Laura raised her eyebrows. ‘Yes, that’s very normal. Who wouldn’t be weeding someone else’s garden at nine o’clock at night?’ She suddenly remembered the day when she’d come home to discover a miraculously tended front garden. ‘I know this seems like a totally mad question, but have you done this before? The Saturday before Mother’s Day?’
Jess laughed. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact. We weren’t speaking at the time and I’d popped round to try to make amends. Again, I thought I may as well do something productive with the time.’
‘That’s so weird,’ Laura said. ‘I mean a) because it is weird and b) because I was waiting outside your house at exactly the same time.’
‘You’re kidding me?’ Jess said.
Laura shook her head. ‘Like a rom com, right?’
‘Just,’ Jess said. ‘Apart from the fact we’re, y’know, sisters. Anyway, can we go inside?’
‘We can,’ Laura said. ‘If you’re sure you don’t want to paint the fence or pressure-wash the path?’
‘Next time,’ Jess said, smiling.
They walked up the stairs.
‘So,’ Laura said, opening the door to her flat. ‘What are you actually doing here? Apart from the weeding.’
‘You’ve been amazing with everything recently.’
Laura felt a knife-twist of guilt. It would be easier to bask in her sister’s praise if she didn’t know she’d trolled her. And, okay it was in the past – and she’d never do such a thing now – but still.
Jess was fiddling with the button on her coat. ‘There’s something I want to tell you.’
‘That sounds ominous.’ Laura waited for her sister to laugh but she looked deadly serious. ‘Do you want a drink?’
Jess shook her head. ‘I had an affair,’ she blurted. ‘Well, a kind of half-affair. I’ve ended it now.’
Laura felt as if all the air had been knocked out of her lungs. ‘You?’
Jess gave a small mirthless laugh. ‘Yes, me. Do you think I’m too boring or too nice?’
Laura’s brain was struggling to process the news. Her perfect sister had cheated on her perfect husband. Her sister who did everything by the book and was still guilt-ridden about the single litter duty she had picked up in secondary school. ‘An affair?’
Jess nodded.
Laura rubbed her temples. Now she understood why Jess had been so snappy that time she thought Laura was reading the message on her phone. And why she’d once suddenly come out with that impassioned speech defending adulterers.
‘Say something,’ Jess said.
Laura looked at Jess. She knew exactly what her sister wanted from her right now. She wanted her to trot out the sort of softly, softly response she’d give someone who’d written in to Dear Laura: You made a mistake but you’re owning up to that mistake and that’s important … And in some ways, shouldn’t it be easier to be nice to Jess now Laura knew she wasn’t so annoyingly perfect?
The trouble was, Laura had visceral memories of being cheated on. The desperate ache in her stomach. The trembling hands and racing heart. The sorrow that had been so murky and all-consuming she’d felt it must be as visible to the outside world as a gaping wound. When Laura had felt like that, she had decided that anyone who cheated had crossed an uncrossable line.
They stood there not saying anything in the half-light, Jess twisting her button and Laura’s mind turning cartwheels.
The silence stretched between them.
‘Who is he?’ Laura said eventually.
Jess sighed. ‘A guy called Aaron. He’s a photographer I met through work.’
Laura nodded, ‘And what do you mean a half-affair?’
Jess reddened. ‘We didn’t actually have sex. Mum said it was all very teenage.’
‘You told Mum?’
Jess nodded. ‘Goodness knows why I decided to confide in her. Let’s face it, she wasn’t exactly a “love you unconditionally” type of mum. More of a “you’ll have to earn my love over and over” mum.’
‘That’s for sure,’ Laura said. ‘And what about Ben?’
Jess shook her head. ‘He doesn’t know, but I’m going to tell him.’
‘Are you mad?’ Laura said.
‘I owe him the truth.’
‘The truth will do nothing but hurt him—’
‘But—’
‘But nothing. You said it was over, right?’ Jess nodded. ‘Then there’s absolutely no reason to tell Ben. Wait, is this why you didn’t want to tell Ben about the lump? Because you didn’t think you deserved for him to be worrying about you?’
‘Yes,’ Jess said, starting to cry.
‘Hey,’ Laura said, stroking her arm. ‘You’ve just been told you’re not actually going to peg it, remember?’
Jess laughed tearfully. ‘You know the stupidest thing of all? I’m not even sure I was that crazy about Aaron. I mean, I thought I was for a second or two, but the truth is I hardly knew him. I don’t know how he votes or whether he’s one of those terrible people who likes to get to the airport in the nick of time.’ Laura made a face. ‘The point I’m making is he wasn’t worth risking my marriage for. I love Ben, I love my life.’
‘Then why—’
Jess shook her head. ‘I don’t know. It’s a question I’ve asked myself a thousand times and, honestly, I think it was about not being the person everyone expects me to be; not being the person I expect me to be. I needed to go “off script”, to surprise myself. Jesus, I sound like some pathetic middle-aged-man who buys a Porsche.’
Laura puffed out her cheeks. ‘It’s a pretty radical way to change your brand.’
‘I know,’ Jess said, wiping away a tear with her sleeve. ‘I’m an idiot.’
Laura squeezed her hand. ‘You really are.’
‘And so greedy and selfish.’
‘Couldn’t have put it better myself,’ Laura said, squeezing Jess’ hand harder.
Jess gave her a watery smile.
‘Why did you suddenly decide to tell me?’ Laura said. ‘Today of all days?’
Jess shrugged. ‘Beca
use if you’re finally going to start liking me after all these years, I want you to like the real me.’
Chapter Seventy-Four
Laura was sitting at her desk reading an email to her and Amy.
Hi both, I can hardly believe it’s May next week! Which means Harriet is going off on mat leave any minute and I was thinking it would make a lot of sense if you two were to split the Celebrity section between you. It’ll mean your job titles look oh-so-impressive and I’m sure, between you, the extra pages won’t be a problem. I may even be able to keep the intern on a bit longer to provide additional support. Dani x
The blood rushed to Laura’s head and she had to breathe deeply to make sure she didn’t start to have a panic attack. There was absolutely no way she could take on half of another section on top of her current workload. She was already overwhelmed. She perpetually felt as if she was behind – short on answers, barely keeping up.
She’d have to tell Dani she couldn’t do this. Then again, the magazine had been understanding about her taking time off, not just when her mum died, but more recently when she’d had to go to appointments with Jess (although Laura had always made sure she got any outstanding work done in the evenings).
She sat at her desk feeling utterly wretched. As it was, she scraped through each day feeling like she was just about keeping her head above water. Good Grief was always talking about how important it was to make time for yourself, as was Jenni from grief group, but between work and trying – and mostly failing – to keep Billy on track, Laura had no time left. The other day she had managed not only to get to the chemist to buy a thrush pessary but also to find a moment to whack it in too, and it had felt as close to a self-care moment as she was ever going to get.
She reached into her handbag and took out a bottle of Gaviscon. What made things even worse was that Amy was out at a press show right now so Laura couldn’t suggest an emergency meeting in the toilets. Amy was a no-bullshit kind of person who might well tell Dani she simply couldn’t foist this on them.
Laura took a swig of the Gaviscon and wrote a reply to Amy.
Can you believe that Dani has dumped this on you and me when we’re easily the most overworked editors in the building? I am so sick of all Dani’s faux sympathy about my recent bereavement. How about she puts her money where her mouth is and stops burying me under a ridiculous pile of work? L x
P.S. I am taking some comfort from laughing inwardly about the trousers Dani is wearing today, which look much like a giant nappy!
Chapter Seventy-Five
Of course Laura had hit reply all.
She was sitting in the Lamb & Flag with Dani, her face a similar shade of beetroot to Oli’s the day she’d asked him why he was avoiding her.
‘I don’t understand why you didn’t come and talk to me,’ Dani said. ‘My door is always open.’
Since they worked in an open-plan office, Dani had no door to leave open or otherwise – and Laura had always hated that expression. Still, she had to admit Dani was right that she should have talked to her. It certainly would have been a more grown-up way of tackling the problem than bitching about her over email. Her mother always said she acted before engaging her brain. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I should have talked to you.’
Dani nodded. ‘The thing about Dani is that she values honesty and openness.’
Jesus, had she just referred to herself in the third person?
‘I’m not just a boss, Laura, I’m a friend.’
Well …
‘And if any of my team are having issues, I want them to tell Dani.’
‘Right,’ Laura said. ‘Yes, I absolutely should have talked to you.’
‘I know you’ve had a lot to deal with recently and I’ve gone out of my way to make things easier for you.’
‘Yes, and I’m very grateful.’
Dani nodded approvingly. ‘Anyway, I hear you about your workload, but this is a fantastic opportunity for you. You get to be Real Life Features Editor and Celebrity Editor. That’s great for your CV.’
Laura nodded. Deep down, she harboured the secret fear that she was lazy. (Was there anything more shameful than being lazy in this age of busy, busy, busy? Of just wanting to watch Queer Eye while shovelling pizza into your mouth?) Everyone around her seemed to have so much energy and Laura felt sluggish and stupid by comparison. Yes, her workload was heavy but so was everyone else’s. Why was she the one who couldn’t keep up or make the grade? The one who was Not Enough?
Dani stood up and Laura followed suit, grateful to get out of this room and away from this conversation as quickly as possible.
‘Oh, and by the way,’ Dani said, giving her a chilly smile, ‘these trousers are Prada.’
Chapter Seventy-Six
‘I think I’m going to have to get a job,’ Jon said, sighing heavily.
You’re a thirty-nine-year-old man, Laura thought. It wouldn’t be that weird to have a job.
They were in Dulwich Park with Billy. The last time Laura had been here, she had been with Jess and the kids that awful weekend before Jess got the all-clear. Thinking back to all the tortuous waiting made Laura shiver even though it was a warm day, and all around them coats and jumpers had been shucked off.
She and Jon had agreed to come here together because today was the day they were going to teach Billy to ride a bike without stabilisers and neither of them wanted to miss that. Besides, Laura had said, it’s nice for him to see that we can still do things together.
Jon was looking troubled. ‘I don’t know what I’m going to do. I guess I could get another job in a restaurant? Or maybe be a band roadie for a bit? Jimmy’s brother said they’re always looking for new people.’
It was hard to shake off the feeling that you were talking to a teenager about a summer job.
‘You’re lucky that you do something you enjoy,’ Jon said.
He always talked like this and it made Laura furious. Excruciating reply-all emails aside, she did like her job, but that didn’t mean that most of the reason she did it wasn’t because she bloody well had to. She wasn’t living the dream when she raced to squash herself into a packed tube every morning. She wasn’t satisfying a creative itch when she tussled with how to make incontinence a fascinating story. And if she won the lottery tomorrow, well, her life would change. A lot.
Billy raced across the wobbly bridge, brandishing an imaginary lightsaber at a little boy he’d hooked up with at the see-saw. He had insisted they have a quick trip to the playground before they started with the bike lesson. Laura couldn’t help but notice he didn’t seem all that excited about it. She’d been desperate to get her stabilisers taken off her bike as a kid. The second Jess’ came off, she’d nagged Dad to do hers too. ‘But you’re a bit smaller, Scout’ (that was what he used to call her; she couldn’t even remember why now). Laura insisted and when she bloodied her knees she bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself crying and jumped straight back on the bike.
‘He hasn’t hit anyone since we had that chat with him?’ Jon said.
Laura shook her head. ‘Nope.’
‘We’re model parents.’
‘Well, apart from the fact our child was hitting anyone in the first place.’
‘Yeah, but only Angus Murray.’
They both laughed. Laura had finally plucked up the courage to speak to Angus’ mum about it. She’d been incredibly gracious. Put her hand on Laura’s arm and told her not to worry.
‘Billy does quite often say he doesn’t want to go to school in the mornings though,’ Laura said.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. And there’s often a convenient “tummy ache”.’ She pressed her fingertips into her temples. ‘You don’t think he’s unhappy at school, do you?’
Jon shook his head. ‘Most five-year-old boys would rather play with their toys than sit in lessons all day. Besides, I don’t think when he started school last September, he realized he’d have to go there every day.’
Laura smiled
.
A woman on a bench a few feet away was trying to breastfeed a baby while applying suncream to a furious and squirmy toddler at the same time. Every now and again the woman would be forced to move enough to unlatch the baby who would squeal in angry protest. Laura had sometimes wondered what it would have been like to have another child and she supposed there was her answer. Well, not her whole answer; she was sure there would be wonderful moments too. She was happy though. Billy was enough. No, he was more than enough; he was everything. She suddenly thought about the woman at the grief group whose daughter had died of leukaemia, the haunted look in her eyes.
‘Maja’s moved in with Jimmy.’ Jon volunteered.
Laura had only met Maja a couple of times. She wore a lot of pink and sweatshirts with pictures of cats on them. ‘Is it still okay for you to stay there?’
‘Oh yeah. You know Jimmy. And Maja’s quite chill. A truly terrible cook but quite chill. She’s a big one for clubbing. Always trying to get us all to go out.’
Laura couldn’t remember the last time she had been to a club. She used to love them. Losing yourself to the thump of the music, a sweaty amorphous mass of bodies who cared about nothing but that moment.
Billy rushed over and took a quick glug of water. ‘My new friend is called Kyle!’ Having delivered this newsflash, he shot off again.
‘Someone’s having a nice time!’ Jon said.
Laura nodded and smiled. She watched a little girl being pushed on the swing by her dad and had a sudden visceral memory of her dad doing exactly the same with her. The sensation of gripping the chain, swishing through the air, begging to go higher and higher. Her dad laughing. ‘Don’t kick the clouds!’
‘Got any food?’ Jon said. ‘I’m starving.’
Laura shook her head.
Billy’s new friend was summoned from the wobbly bridge by his dad and told they had to get home. The dad glanced apologetically at Laura and Jon.
Billy came over, his lower lip dangerously wobbly. ‘We were having the best game.’
