by J Wells
His fingers brush against mine as he lifts a biscuit from the plate, dipping it in his tea. He stands, as if in thought.
“What say I have a word with Mum and Dad about using the stately home for their wedding venue? I’m calling in after I’ve left here, so I should be able to ring and let you know in a couple of hours.”
“Another biscuit?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Look, if you don’t like the idea, you’ve only got to say.”
I feel my cheeks redden. Was I really that obvious?
“No, it’s not a bad idea, it’s just how things are, don’t you think it’ll be kind of awkward?”
He sips at his tea. “Only if we make it awkward.”
He swills away the remnants in his mug and places it in the dishwasher. Then, just the way he used to, he picks a clean mug from the cupboard and makes himself another.
“Look, Tash, it’s only a suggestion; the offer’s there if you’re interested.”
I strum my fingers on the worktop.
“I can’t speak on their behalf, but I will have a word and see what they say.”
I glance up at the wall clock and down at my phone.
“Adrianna finishes work around one o’clock, so I’ll drop her a text and see what she says.”
I type a quick message and press send.
“Oh, I almost forgot, Aunty…” Josh pipes up, moving our conversation in a different direction. “What about your nephew?”
“Logan…” I smile, thinking about him and that cheeky little face. “He’s amazing; Adrianna’s always popping in between shifts at the café, so I get to see him most days. You should see his hair; I’ve never seen a kid his age with so much.”
I pick up my mug and the plate of biscuits from the worktop and walk into the lounge. Josh takes a large gulp from his mug and joins me.
I sit down in the armchair, and he seats himself opposite on the settee. He leans forward, gazing at the front page of the local paper, and folds his arms.
“How about telling me why you invited me round this afternoon? I thought you were still on your travels; Mum and Dad had no idea you were home. Don’t get me wrong, it’s lovely to see you, but it was a bit short notice.”
“I had no idea you were home either, until Adrianna said she thought she saw you in Babies and Bumps. I thought she was mistaken, I didn’t think it would be you, but I just rang on the off chance.”
“Yeah, she must have been mistaken. What would I be doing in Babies and Bumps?”
“That’s what I said.” Though I can’t help frown when I see the way he taps his finger on his chin, a telltale trait of his whenever he’s lying.
“Anyway, I can’t be too long, I’ve left Michelle outside in the car.”
“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush, it’s Larry. I need you to look after him for me; I can’t take him where I’m going.”
“Why ask me when you’ve got your mum and dad? Surely they can take care of him.”
“You’d have thought so, but Dad’s in and out all the time, and I really can’t trust Mum; she’s already lost him a couple of times. We were out searching the other night for over three hours.”
His eyebrows draw in. “Have you considered Adrianna?”
“Do you really think if I had a choice I’d want Michelle anywhere near my dog? Believe me, I’ve been left with no other option.” I take a deep breath. “Yes, I asked Adrianna, but I don’t think they want a dog with Logan toddling around. I wouldn’t have asked,” I say, placing my hand on my hips, “but I couldn’t think of anyone else. And technically, he was your dog.”
“Guess so.” He half smiles.
“I know how much you loved Larry when we were together, so I figured you wouldn’t mind.”
“You do know if I take him with me he’ll be flying out to America so you’ll never see him again?”
“I know,” I mutter, taking a brief glance towards my little pug; I feel like I’m betraying him.
Josh takes a packet of mints from his pocket, undoes the silver wrapper and pops one into his mouth.
“If it was just me I’d say yes without hesitation, but I need to okay it with Michelle first.”
He stands up and pulls his phone from his jeans. Sitting back down, he types in the code to unlock it. I watch his fingers press 4-4-4-4; guess some things never change. The phone’s at a slight angle in his lap and I squint, trying to make out his screen saver; it always used to be a photo of us, and once a year he’d update our picture. I frown at what I think I’ve just seen, but I can’t be sure, as he’s lifted the phone to his ear and is talking quietly into the mouthpiece.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and while he talks I walk over to the window, push the blinds apart with my fingers and peer out at Josh’s car parked at the end of the drive. Michelle’s in the driver’s seat holding the phone to her ear. I glance into the back seat, and directly behind Michelle there’s a baby. My fists clench into tight balls, and seething inside I make my way towards the glass wall unit.
“Who the fuck’s the baby on your phone, and who the fuck’s the baby in your car?”
His eyes flash towards me. “Michelle, I’ll ring you back in five.”
He cuts off the call abruptly and sits staring up at me, guilt written all over his face.
“Adrianna wasn’t mistaken, it was you in Babies and Bumps. How old is it?”
“It’s a she, and she’s my daughter,” he emphasises. “Her name’s Savannah, and she’s ten months old this coming Saturday.”
“So this isn’t a fleeting visit,” I mock. “You came home so your folks could see their granddaughter.” I count back on my fingers. “Go on, Josh, tell me when you got her pregnant.”
His eyes become evasive and my left eyebrow shoots up.
“We hadn’t even split up, had we? It was when we were still together.”
In a matter of seconds his face seems to have lost its American tan.
“You kept our wedding venue and our honeymoon for her, and as for the baby, you never wanted children, you made that clear, yet you have one sitting outside in your car with your slut of a wife.”
I’m shocked how angry I am; I thought I’d got Josh out of my system and to a degree I have, but I’m finding it hard to come to terms with his deceit and betrayal.
“Tash, enough.”
I can’t hold back my tears; they’re not tears of sadness, they’re tears of anger. I glare at Mum’s ornamental cows laid out so decoratively on each shelf of her glass wall unit and then, centre stage, that stupid vase, the last gift from Josh. Working from top to bottom I swipe each cow he bought her and bring them crashing to the floor.
“Bradford,” I call out as the brown Friesian loses its head. “Coventry, Devon, Stockport, Portsmouth,” I continue. My grand finale is the vase. “There!” I say with utter contentment. “Now I don’t need to picture your face or think of you every time I walk into this damn room.”
He folds his arms across his chest. “Okay, you’ve smashed the cows, do you feel better now?”
My smile’s a smug one, though it’s the total opposite of the way I’m breaking inside.
“While you’re at it…” He points. “You’ve forgotten one.”
I glance to the top shelf where Daisy, with her black shiny coat, sits alone.
“I left her till last on purpose, to smash Mum’s favourite on the cow that sits waiting for you outside.”
I grab Daisy, and squeezing her tightly between my fingers I hurry past Josh.
His voice follows me. “Stop this, stop this now.”
My neck’s jerked back and I’m stopped dead. Daisy slips from my grasp and smashes to join the others. The towel is pulled from my head and I turn; he has it clutched between his fingers.
His face looks drawn and he drops the towel.
“Josh, don’t,” I interrupt, “just go.”
I don’t hear the door close but I know he’s gone. Wrapping the towel back round my
head, I sit in the armchair next to the window and watch his car drive away. I think it best I close the front door and amble into the hallway. I gasp, taken by surprise. He hasn’t gone, and is standing on the bottom stair. He reaches over the banister towards me. Without a word spoken between us he takes my hand. Stair by stair we climb; then he leads me along the landing and into our bedroom.
“Michelle?” I question.
He places his finger against my lips. “I told her to go back to Mum and Dad’s.”
He lifts the corner of the duvet.
“Tash, get in.”
The look he passes me is one I’ve never seen before, so I don’t question him and do as he asks. The mattress dips as he seats himself at the bottom, pulling off his jacket. Then he whips out the belt around his waist. He turns, half smiles and bends down, unlacing his shoes, and then rolls his socks off the ends of his feet. Feeling warm, I unbutton my jeans and slip out of them. He searches through my collection of DVDs. I see his hand stop halfway down the stack, and with his chin on his shoulder he looks around and smiles. Reaching for the remote, he switches on the telly and pops the disc into the open tray. Lifting the quilt on the other side of the bed, he slides in next to me.
For seventy-seven minutes it’s as though the hands of time have been turned back and it’s just like old times. We are lying in our bed watching Peter Pan, our favourite Disney film. Josh’s arm is wrapped around my shoulder, my head lying against his chest, picking up every beat of his heart. I don’t know how, but I end up wearing his socks.
Mary, George, Wendy and Nana gaze through the window and up towards the night sky, watching the silhouette of Hook’s ship sail its way across the moon.
“The end,” he mutters, squeezing me tightly against him.
My eyes follow the credits as they work their way up the screen and disappear. He gets up from the bed and pushes his arms through the sleeves of his jacket. I lift my legs and point my toes so that he can pull off his socks. He sits at the side of the bed, retying his shoelaces.
“If you straighten the covers, I’ll go downstairs and fetch Larry’s meds and lead.”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, Tash, I spoke to Michelle, and with us having the baby, she’s not happy about it.”
“Larry wouldn’t harm a hair on that child’s head.”
“Don’t you think you should tell your sister that?”
I frown. “Excuse me?”
“Well, you said yourself Adrianna isn’t happy to have Larry either now Logan’s toddling around.”
I place my right hand on my hip.
“We know Larry’s harmless, but Michelle doesn’t. Leave it with me; I could always ask my folks if they’d mind having him.”
I roll my eyes. “We both know your mum won’t want a dog in her house. Don’t worry, I’ll think of something else.”
He stands up, straightening his clothes.
“Next time I fly home … will I see you?”
I lift myself slightly, propping my arms on the pillow.
“No, Josh, I don’t think you will.”
He opens his mouth to speak, and I lift my finger to silence him.
“Please, not a word. You’ve made this afternoon perfect.”
I follow Jenny into the hall. She shuts the clasp on her black leather bag and throws the strap over her shoulder.
“Same time tomorrow?” she asks, patting me on the back.
I shrug her hand away. “Could we possibly give it a miss? My sister in-law … my soon-to-be sister in law,” I correct myself, “she’s bringing a folder full of bridal magazines for us to browse through and no doubt once we get started, we’ll be looking for hours.”
I lift her checked woollen coat off the banister, holding it for her to slip her arms into. Buttoning it up to her neck, she turns to face me.
“So when’s the big day?”
“Not too sure at the moment; if they get everything sorted, it should be before Christmas.” I smile with a glimmer of hope, yet am filled with a nagging doubt, for they’re trying to organise in a matter of weeks what Josh and I took a year to arrange.
Her blonde hair bounces on her collar as she nods. She pulls her sleeve up and glances down at her Rolex watch, then steps onto the doormat.
She retrieves a small diary from her pocket, and glancing down she flicks through the pages.
“I could always rearrange times with my other clients and fit you in somewhere during the day?”
“No, honestly,” I shake my head, “the day after will be fine.”
I close the front door on Jenny, and I hear the back door crash against the kitchen wall. Sylvia’s usual monosyllabic tone and Mum’s high-pitched tittering, together with the leg of a chair screeching across the tiled floor, put my teeth on edge. It’s only four o’clock, and I realise Mum’s drinking sessions are starting earlier and earlier. And where’s Dad? He said he’d be home for three, so either his watch has stopped or he’s a bloody bad timekeeper. I can’t sit down and listen to Mum slurring and talking a load of nonsense, that’s for sure.
Sylvia’s pinched face appears from the lounge.
“Fancy joining us?” Her fingers mat in her tight grey curls as she attempts to run them through.
I don’t know what to say without sounding rude, but the thought of their company and another second of daytime TV, which in any case would be drowned out by their loud voices, fills me with dread.
“No thanks.” I try my best not to sound condescending as I decline.
Larry’s lead hanging in line with the coats is my escape. Half asleep, he doesn’t seem too eager as I pull him from the cushion on the settee and fasten it to his collar. With arthritis setting in, he’s not agreeable to walking very far these days; we usually pass a handful of lamp posts and cross the road to the park, where I sit on a bench and he sits next to me. We stay for a while and watch the world going about its daily business.
“See you in half hour!” I shout, and I’m out the door before either Mum or Sylvia has time to answer.
The park’s unusually quiet for the time of day; even Bart, the old man who comes daily with a loaf of bread to feed the ducks, has seemingly given it a miss. I breathe out, watching my misted breaths disappear into the wintry afternoon. Larry’s looking up at me as if to say, ‘What are you doing, bringing me out on a day like this?’ But with a toss-up between Mum and Sylvia, and a park bench, the park bench won.
It sounds daft, but I could swear Larry’s dithering, so I lift him onto my lap, unbutton my black woollen coat and wrap him inside with me. To kill a few minutes, I call Adrianna.
After three rings, she picks up and tells me she’s just about to bathe Logan. I can hear agitation in her voice; I don’t want to pry, but can’t help asking what’s up.
“I’ve just got off the phone to Angela,” she pipes up. “She’s suggested we get married on the 12th of December. She insisted on organising and paying for the caterers, flowers and limos. Tash, I feel awful, I’m sure she’s only doing this out of guilt because of how things turned out between you and Josh.”
“If it makes her happy, then why not just let her help?”
“She’s paying for the lot. She’s not the sort of person I feel I can say no to,” she mutters.
I laugh. “That’s Angela for you; I’ve been in your shoes many times, but she’s got a heart of gold.”
“I know, and letting us get married at their stately home is so kind of them. I’m still having to pinch myself, I don’t think it’s sunk in yet. But…”
“What’s the matter? Are you having second thoughts?”
“No, it’s not that. I haven’t got a dress … how am I going to get kitted out in eleven days? It’s okay for Danielle, she’s wearing a suit, but this is my day and I want to look beautiful, well the best I can.”
She laughs, and I laugh with her.
“I’ve got a suggestion…”
She swallows back her laughter. “Don’t suggest I wear a suit as well; t
hat’s not going to happen.”
“You could always wear my dress … something borrowed.” I snigger. “Somehow I can’t see myself needing it.”
A couple of minutes pass without a response.
“But that was your dress…”
“We always shared dresses as kids, so think nothing of it. Really, Adrianna, it’s no big deal.”
“No, you’re getting me wrong, I’d be honoured to wear it. It’ll need a few alterations, but it won’t be hard to find a seamstress.”
“I forgot to mention there’s a clause.”
“Go on…” she prompts, her light-heartedness giving way to a more serious tone.
“Promise me you won’t go to that damn college to get your make-up done!”
“Piss off, Tash.” She chuckles.
“Let me be the one to put those spider legs on your eyes and choose the colour of your lipstick, that’s my only proviso. Deal?”
“Deal!” I hear Danielle’s voice in the background.
“Oi, bugger off, nosey, and stop listening in on our conversation!” I call.
“She’s not.”
“I’m not…” Danielle’s voice echoes.
“We’re bathing Logan,” Adrianna says. “You’re on the toilet seat on loud speaker.”
“Toilet seat? Charming.” I snigger. “I wanted the dress to be a surprise.”
She huffs. “Eleven days … I don’t think we’ve got time for surprises.”
I hug Larry into my chest. He’s not shivering anymore; he’s warm and cosy like me.
“No, I guess you’re right, it’s unfortunate, but time waits for no one.”
Adrianna’s voice is drowned out as brakes and tyres screech into the icy car park behind me. I spin round on the end of the bench and gasp.
“Gabriel…”
He jumps out of a silver 4 x 4 and storms towards me.
“I’ll call you back.” I cut off the call, almost dropping my phone.
Wrapped in a navy-blue hoody and breathing heavily, he stands a few feet away from me.
“How long?!” he hollers.
“What?”
“Don’t fucking patronise me, I’ve spent the last four hours talking to your dad and he’s told me everything… Now I’ll ask you again, how fucking long?”
