‘It… it’s Adam. His parents didn’t make their flight yesterday – they won’t be at the wedding.’
‘That’s such a shame.’ Mum slipped her arm around me. ‘They must be so upset.’
‘Adam thinks they never intended to come. He’s in bits. He hasn’t seen them in years and they promised they’d be here. Their son is getting married! How could they miss it?’
It was hard to understand why they were choosing not to come. My dad would have given anything to be here today. All week I’d been feeling progressively worse that Dad wouldn’t – couldn’t – be the one to give me away. I’d shed many tears when Adam wasn’t around; I hadn’t wanted to take the shine off the big day build-up, but now this. It felt we were cursed. Only one parent out of four.
‘We can’t know they never intended on coming and I’m sure they have their reasons,’ Mum said.
‘But Mum, Adam is so upset. I don’t know how to make it better for him.’ I felt bereft. My inadequate sorrys and, ‘I’m your family now,’ just hadn’t seemed enough.
‘You can’t always make it better for him. Nell, are you okay if I take Anna upstairs and show her something?’
‘Yes.’
‘Forget the crown, Nell,’ I said miserably. It didn’t seem important anymore.
‘Absolutely not.’ Nell was on a mission now. ‘I’m not going to be beaten. Look, if I just tape the roses to the halo and twist in strands of jasmine, and entwine cream ribbon through it all, it’ll be done. It should be easy. Fuck.’ A thorn tore through her skin, and she sucked her index finger.
‘You’re going to bleed all over your dress. Honestly—’
‘Anna.’ Nell’s eyes met mine. ‘I’ve got this.’ She plucked another dusty pink flower from the diminishing pile. ‘Right, you little bastard. If you don’t behave, I’ll chop your head off. I’ve secateurs here. Don’t think that I won’t.’
I knew she’d pull it off.
Upstairs, I sat on Mum’s bed while she lifted something out of the bottom of her jewellery box. She pressed it into my hand.
‘A coin?’ I didn’t understand.
‘Not just any coin, but the coin Grandad Harry fed into the jukebox to play Elvis the day he met Nan.’
‘Really?’ I turned it over in my hand, feeling all of the history contained in its cold, hard metal.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Grandad said he asked the owner to fish it out so he could keep it as a reminder of the minute he fell in love. Whether that is the actual coin or not we’ll never know, but the point is what it symbolizes.’
I still wasn’t quite getting it.
‘I’ve never told you this, Anna, but Nan’s parents disowned her.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she fell pregnant with me before she was married.’
Instinctively I placed my hand over my stomach, remembering the time I had convinced myself that I was pregnant a few months ago.
‘It was a different era, Anna. A real scandal. Nan was devastated. Grandad tried to talk to her parents but they never came around. She told me she cried and cried until Grandad gave her this coin, telling her it was from the jukebox. “I can’t say anything to take your pain away,” he had said, “but carry this coin with you and whenever you’re feeling lost or lonely, give it a rub and know that I’m thinking of you. Always.”’ Mum smoothed my hair from my face and cupped my cheeks with her hands. ‘We can’t always fix things for those we love, Anna, and they can’t always fix things for us, but sometimes just knowing – remembering – that we have that special person who loves us, listens to us, is enough.’
‘I felt I’d let Adam down on the phone. I didn’t know what to say.’
‘Sometimes you don’t need to say anything. When Grandad was laid off from the brewery, he came home and sat on the back doorstep, his head in his hands. Do you know what Nan did?’
‘No.’
‘She gave him the coin and sat. Just sat with him, holding his hand. Throughout the years, that coin passed back and forth between them and when… when your dad died, Nan gave it to me.’
My eyes filled with tears.
‘And now, Anna, I’m giving it to you.’ She closed my fingers around it.
‘But—’
‘Hush. Sometimes we don’t have to say anything.’
And we sat there silently on the bed she’d shared with Dad, my head resting on her shoulder, until Nell burst into the room triumphantly brandishing the finished crown.
It was all going to be okay.
The second I saw Adam at the altar, the world disappeared. My arm linked through Mum’s as we made the slow walk down the aisle. My heart was both light and heavy, missing Dad but grateful for Mum. Excited to become Adam’s wife. His eyes didn’t let go of mine until I reached him. Whispering an ‘I’ll explain later’ in his ear, I pressed the coin into his hand.
We promised for better or for worse and I don’t think either of us registered who was there and who wasn’t. It was him and me.
It would always be him and me.
At the reception flamenco music played while we ate the wedding breakfast: paella, and Limoncello and plum tart of course. During the speeches I drank too much sangria, expecting Josh’s to be raucous and rude but it was short and heartfelt. Mum stood and spoke.
‘In the short time I’ve known him, I’ve grown to love Adam. Before he proposed to Anna, he asked me for her hand in marriage; not a lot of young men would do that nowadays and I appreciated the gesture. Anna’s dad would greatly have appreciated the gesture too and I know that he’d be just as fond of Adam.’ I nodded. ‘But the most important thing of all is that they love each other, and any fool can see that they do.’
‘Even me.’ Josh raised his glass.
‘A toast. To Mr and Mrs Curtis.’
Mrs Curtis.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
It was time for the first dance. We had told Josh and Nell what our song would be and why, but I’d wanted it to be a surprise for Mum and Nan. We’d chosen ‘Love Me Tender’. Adam took me in his arms and we swayed along, intermittently kissing. After the first few bars I watched as Josh strode purposefully towards Nell. Even if it hadn’t been tradition for the best man to dance with the chief bridesmaid, he would have wanted to. Nan was sitting on the edge of the dance floor, wearing such a wistful expression that Josh hesitated as he passed her. With one last, lingering glance at Nell, he offered Nan his hand. Her face lit up as Josh led her onto the dance floor.
Smiling, I broke away from Adam and beckoned for Mum to come and dance with me while Adam did the same to Nell.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Adam as he twirled Nell around the dance floor and I remember now with clarity the happiness that filled me as I watched them.
My husband. My best friend.
I never thought I’d lose him.
Never thought I’d lose them both.
Part Two
‘We can’t always fix things for those we love.’
PATRICIA ADLINGTON – ANNA’S MUM
Chapter Fourteen
Adam
There was a pub called The Star. It was a bit of a dump but when I had first moved here, over two years ago now, the name had made me smile when I’d driven past it.
‘Fancy going out for a drink?’ I had asked Anna when I arrived home. ‘You’ve a pub named after you, Star!’
‘I’m living the dream,’ she had laughed.
The floors were always sticky and the very fabric of the place stank of cigarettes, but still we came regularly with Josh and Nell to play pool. Not many pubs had games rooms anymore, or dark wooden beams that striped the ceiling. It was a contrast to the other local pubs that were part of a chain. Here, we were largely ignored by the older clientele who perched on stools at the bar, nursing frothy pints of ale, leaving us to sprawl in front of the crackling fire and chat without too-loud music or extortionately priced beers.
Tonight, Anna was distracted; she picked up he
r glass of orange juice and put it straight back down again onto a battered mahogany table that wobbled on its spindly legs. I knew she was thinking about her appointment tomorrow. Our appointment tomorrow. There was a lot riding on it but for now I just wanted to relax, have a good time.
‘Hey,’ I nudged her lightly with my elbow. ‘It’s your shot.’
She picked up her cue and bent over the table, her denim skirt stretching. I couldn’t help checking her out. Before we had married, I had wondered what sleeping with the same woman for the rest of my life might be like, but I was just as attracted to her as ever. More so.
Anna’s tongue poked out between her teeth the way it always did when she was concentrating. She jabbed the white ball and potted a yellow.
‘That would be very impressive,’ I said, ‘if we weren’t red.’
‘Shit, are we? Sorry.’
‘We thought you two losers needed a chance,’ I called across to Josh and Nell. Nell didn’t bat back one of her usual sarcastic replies. She’d been quiet all evening too. We all took another shot and then it was Anna’s turn again.
‘Red?’ she questioned.
‘Red.’ I tried not to get annoyed. It was only natural that she was worried about tomorrow but then she was always worried. I just wanted one night without thinking about it all.
I watched as she thwacked a red ball into the black, which in turn dropped into the pocket, awarding Josh and Nell the victory.
‘That was a waste of fifty pence,’ I said lightly.
‘Well, if the money means that much to you,’ Anna snapped.
‘Hey.’ I held up my hands. ‘I was just kidding.’
‘No. I’ll give you back your fifty pence.’ She unzipped her purse and tipped a pile of coins on the table, and there it was: her grandad’s coin, which had passed between us several times since the wedding. We both stared at it before Anna scooped everything back into her purse except her grandad’s coin, which she stuffed into my pocket. She wound her arms around my neck and buried her face in my shoulder.
From over the top of Anna’s head I caught the furrow of anxiety between Josh’s eyebrows. He was worried about the way we’d begun to bicker, but I couldn’t expect him to understand the pressure we were under. He mouthed, ‘Drinks?’ and I nodded.
‘Are you Lonesome Tonight?’ began playing from the jukebox – not our song but close enough – and I pressed Anna’s body against mine and began to sway.
‘I’m not in the mood.’ Anna pushed me away. It was only in my head I replied, ‘You never are.’
We lounged on our usual sofa, watching the flames dance in the grate. Josh returned with a tray of drinks. I eyed his glass of frothy pale beer thirstily before picking up my lemonade.
‘So.’ Nell tore apart a beer mat. Separating the layers of cardboard. ‘I’ve news.’
‘What?’ Anna gently took the mat away and held her hand. I think we all expected from Nell’s sombre expression for the news to be bad.
‘You know Chris?’
I nodded. Know was a bit of a stretch. She had brought him to play pool with us a couple of times but it had been uncomfortable with Josh glaring at him, and anyway, you couldn’t play doubles with five people. We hadn’t felt bad when he didn’t come back; Nell’s boyfriends never seem to last beyond three dates.
‘I’m moving in with him.’
‘What?’ Anna looked hurt and I’m guessing this was the first she had heard about this.
‘It’s all happened so quickly,’ Nell shrugged. ‘I haven’t had time to tell you.’
Josh stalked away and I felt his pain. He had claimed his one kiss with Nell at our wedding but there hadn’t been anything between them since and I knew he was hoping that one day she would see him as more than just a friend. Minutes later he returned with a bottle of fizz and four glasses.
‘It’s great news.’ He popped open the bottle and it was probably only me who could detect the tell-tale set of his jaw implying that he thought it was anything but great.
He frothed out the bubbling champagne and we toasted Nell and Chris, telling her that we’d like to get to know him better. The alcohol went straight to my head, I hadn’t drunk for such a long time. Anna barely touched hers. I knew she wouldn’t mind driving home.
‘You’re okay about this?’ Nell asked us all, but she was looking at Josh.
‘If you like him, we like him.’ Josh raised his glass. ‘But if he hurts you, I’ll break his fucking legs.’
On the drive home my head was fuzzy. Josh and I had finished the bottle between us and a headache was forming behind my eyes.
I stole a glance at Anna, hunched over the steering wheel. Tension radiating from her.
‘You can’t blame me for having a drink tonight,’ I said.
‘Can’t I?’ she snapped.
‘Anna, it’s been well over a year.’
‘For me too! Don’t you think I miss it? No, of course you don’t, you never think of anything except yourself,’ she was shouting and I couldn’t help shouting back.
‘That’s not bloody fair and you know it.’ I fought to regain my composure. ‘I want a baby as much as—’
‘Do you? Do you though? You wouldn’t know it from the way you were knocking back those drinks.’
‘A few glasses of champagne won’t hurt.’
‘How do you know why I can’t fall pregnant? How do we know?’ She wrenched the steering wheel and violently we left the road, bumping down a rutted track into a clearing in the forest. It was pitch black under the towering trees. She turned to me, but instead of fury in her face, there was nothing but sadness. ‘How do we know?’ she asked again, this time quietly.
‘We’ll know tomorrow.’ I was thinking of the appointment again with the fertility specialist.
‘I’m so scared.’
‘Anna, I—’
‘Shh.’ She unclipped her seatbelt and awkwardly climbed over the centre console, onto my lap. She kissed me. I held her face between my hands and kissed her back, hard. She undid my belt. I lifted my hips to slide my jeans down before I unbuttoned her shirt, running my hands up her thighs, under her skirt. My fingers feeling how much she wanted me.
This. This was what I had longed for.
Feeling desired. Needed. Feeling the way we used to feel before we relied on an app to tell us when we should touch each other.
This was what I had missed.
Her.
Us.
It was four o’clock in the afternoon and my mouth still tasted like something had died in it. Our appointment was in fifteen minutes. Anna should be here by now. Her school day finished at three.
Where was she?
I checked my phone again but she hadn’t messaged. Another five minutes passed and I was wondering whether I should book us in when I saw her running towards me.
‘Are you—’
‘Let’s get inside,’ she said breathlessly.
We told the receptionist we were here and were told to wait on hard grey chairs that matched the grey walls and the grey floor. It looked like the place dreams came to die.
‘Good day?’ I wanted to distract Anna from her thoughts. I wanted to distract myself from my thoughts.
‘Not really.’ She tucked a curl behind her ears. ‘You know I was worried about Jemma?’
‘Yes.’ Jemma was one of Anna’s Year Eleven pupils. Anna had noticed she’d become withdrawn and was worried she might be being bullied.
‘She asked to see me after school today, that’s why I was late. She’s pregnant.’
‘Oh, Anna.’
‘She wants me to help her arrange a termination.’ Her voice was flat, emotionless, but I knew how twisted up inside she was.
‘Mr and Mrs Curtis?’ We were summoned into a room.
We sat down. Anna’s hand slipped inside mine.
‘Hello,’ said Dr Bowman. ‘I have the results of your laparoscopy, Anna. We suspected from your heavy periods and the pain you experience that your failure t
o conceive—’
‘Failure?’ I couldn’t help blurting out as Anna’s fingers tightened around mine.
‘Sorry. Lack of success conceiving over the past eighteen months might be due to endometriosis and the results confirm that it is. Do you both understand what endometriosis is?’ He paused.
‘Yes,’ said Anna at the same time I said ‘kind of’.
‘It’s when the lining of the uterus – the endometrium – grows elsewhere, such as in the fallopian tubes or ovaries. The lining breaks down but, unlike the cells in the womb that leave the body as a period, it has nowhere to go.’
‘And this has prevented Anna falling pregnant?’
‘Not necessarily, but it could well have contributed towards her fail… lack of pregnancy. Sometimes with endometriosis there is a build-up of adhesions that can trap the egg and prevent it from moving down the fallopian tube.’
I glanced at Anna. Her face was as white as chalk. I could see that if she spoke, she would cry.
‘So is there anything we can do?’ I asked.
‘Surgery to remove the adhesions would certainly increase the chance of conception. There are no guarantees, of course. Anna has age on her side and may well conceive naturally.’
‘We…’ Anna took a deep breath. ‘We want the surgery.’
‘The surgery can cause further problems: infections, bleeding, damage to affected organs.’
‘We want the surgery,’ Anna repeated.
At home, I tucked Anna under a blanket on the sofa and made her a hot chocolate. It sat untouched on the coffee table, melting cream streaking down the mug onto the glass.
I lifted the blanket and slipped under it.
‘Anna—’
‘Don’t,’ she said quietly. ‘Just don’t.’
‘This isn’t your fault, you know.’ I felt helpless knowing how wretched she must feel inside. If it were the other way round, I know that rightly or wrongly, I would feel to blame.
‘I can’t talk about it. Not yet. Please don’t make me.’
At a loss to know what else to do, I reached into my pocket and pulled out her grandad’s coin. She took it gratefully, curling her hand around it.
The Life We Almost Had Page 7
