Perfect Imperfections (Moments Book 1)

by J Wells

  Looking at Gabriel I smile, though he doesn’t smile back.

  “Come on,” he prompts while making the bed. “You’re already running late. I’d best get you out of here.”

  I place Larry onto my pillow and hurry out of the bedroom before he has chance to jump down again. I follow Gabriel out of the front door, which he’s finally got fixed.

  I buckle my seat belt as he glances into his rear-view mirror, about to pull off.

  “Mr Pooch is okay, isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, fine, what makes you ask?”

  “No reason, just wondered.”

  “Mum’s got her.” There’s an unmistakable break in his voice.

  Something doesn’t sit right. “You haven’t mentioned her in over a week … are you sure everything’s okay?”

  He pushes the gearstick into first and manoeuvres away from the kerb. His movements seem jerky and awkward, and he’s looking in the rear-view mirror when there really is no need.

  “I didn’t want to tell you … I thought you had enough on your plate. Anyway, Mr Pooch is my worry.”

  “Gabriel, where is she?”

  He shrugs. “If only I knew. She managed to climb out of a bedroom window at Mum’s, and we looked for her for days.” He pauses. “She’s been missing for over six months; another reason I didn’t come home sooner. I waited at Mum’s on the off chance, as I didn’t want to be away if she came back, but she never did.”

  I jump as he hits the palm of his hand on the steering wheel.

  “You know, I haven’t even got a photo.”

  “Couldn’t you paint her from memory? Surely it’s better than nothing.”

  He reaches between the handbrake and gearstick and squeezes my knee.

  “A photo is something I could have taken at any time, but a painting, that’s different. For me a portrait would be something to remember her by, and if she becomes a painting on the wall, it’s like admitting to myself that she’s never coming back.”

  I move my hand from my lap and rest it over his; I can see how much he’s hurting. The car speeds up and the moment is broken as he pulls away and changes gear. I sit quietly, glancing at my phone, and flick through Facebook for the remainder of our journey. I frown, noticing I have two friend requests. The first name I read is Josh; we are on better terms now, and I suppose as he’s coming to the wedding on Saturday it’ll be rather awkward if I don’t add him, so I accept. The name directly below is Michelle’s. Now that is a shock, but no doubt he’s bringing her with him. My finger hovers over her name for a couple of minutes. What the heck? Life’s short and don’t I know it, so bad feelings aside I swallow my pride and press accept.

  As we pull up onto the pavement outside Mum and Dad’s, I see Danielle’s car is parked on the drive. Dad’s throwing black bin liners into the dustbin at the side gate. I roll down my window and wave.

  “Do you want me to come in?” Gabriel’s already unbuckling his seat belt.

  “Do you really want to sit through a dress fitting?”

  “And see you semi-naked? If you twisted my arm I could stop for a while.” He smirks.

  “You can bloody sod off.” Then I have a thought. “Why not take Dad out for the afternoon? Pop to the pub, the bookies, whatever you men do.”

  “Great idea, Natasha. I don’t usually drink this early in the day and I’ve never been one to gamble.”

  “Well, Dad can have a pint and bore you by waffling on about his garden, while you can buy a mineral water and pretend to be interested.”

  Dad’s head suddenly pokes through the car window.

  “Gabriel, about your garden…”

  He’s so predictable. I roll my eyes and raise my eyebrows at Gabriel.

  “Looks like it’s a date,” he mutters, inviting Dad into the car as I leave.

  I can’t help laughing at the expression on Gabriel’s face as I stand waving them off.

  I don’t jiggle my key in the lock as usual, but turn it clockwise very slowly. I tiptoe into the hallway on the off chance that Logan’s fallen asleep. I needn’t have bothered, because as soon as I enter the house I hear raised voices from the lounge and Logan’s screams coming from upstairs. I’m welcomed by Mum’s canvases on the wall and that forced smile of hers. I lean back against the door, fanning my face with my hand; these hot flushes are driving me crazy. I always thought Mum was exaggerating when she droned on about her menopausal symptoms, but she was right, they’re awful. Feeling slightly sick and light-headed, I think that if Adrianna is agreeable I’ll lie down for half an hour. I approach the lounge and see that the door’s ajar. I place my hand just above the handle about to push it open, but then stop on hearing the sharp tone of Adrianna’s voice from within.

  “Mum, you never bother with Logan; I can count on one hand how many times you’ve picked him up or held him since he came home from hospital.”

  “All you seem capable of doing is criticising me. What do you want? I bought him a Moses basket, a high chair, everything you need for Logan’s right here!”

  “That’s it, bring up all the materialistic things! What Logan needs is a nan, a nan that loves him.”

  “For God’s sake!” Danielle bellows. “Can’t the two of you stop this pointless bickering? Logan’s sobbing his little heart out upstairs.”

  “No, Danielle, I should have said this a long time ago. We all dance around Mum’s feelings, and that includes Dad… But now we’ve got Logan it’s got to stop. She’s a pisshead; if she wants to be part of our life, part of our family, then she needs to sort herself out, and damn quick.”

  “How dare you!” Mum’s voice shoots back. “Me and your father have a lot of friends, we go out drinking socially.”

  “Socially? Who the fuck are you trying to kid? Coz you’re not kidding any of us, is she, Danielle?”

  “Hey, don’t get me involved in your family domestic. I’m not sticking round to listen to this, I’m out of here. I’m taking Logan home. Adrianna, I suggest you ring me when you want picking up.”

  Shocked, I jump back as Danielle storms out of the lounge and watch her slam the door as hard as she can into its wooden frame.

  “Tash,” Danielle gasps, holding her chest. “I had no idea you were here.”

  “Well, listening to those two, I won’t be staying long.”

  “You can come home with me if you like; we’ll have a quiet cup of tea.” I can’t help noticing the way she emphasizes the word.

  “I’m just going to run upstairs, grab the bab and we’ll be out of here, leave the two of them to argue it out.”

  I nod. “Sounds good to me.”

  She slips past me and runs up the stairs.

  “Logan, don’t cry, Mummy’s coming.”

  “What do you mean, you’re not coming to the wedding?” I can hear Adrianna’s voice clearly.

  “How do you expect me to go to one daughter’s wedding, and within a few months my other daughter’s funeral?”

  My knees buckle and I sink to the floor. Did I actually just hear my mum say that? I hear the shatter of a glass.

  “How can you say that? That’s Natasha you’re talking about.”

  “What am I supposed to say? Your sister’s dying.”

  I’m still here, alive and kicking, and she’s in the next room coldly discussing my funeral… In a matter of seconds my prognosis has become a reality. I hug my face into my hands, wishing the floor would open up and I could disappear. Tash, you’re going to die, and in a haunting kind of echo the words play over and over in my head.

  “Are you coming?”

  I open my fingers, glancing up between a distortion of tears. Danielle’s standing with the front door open, Logan snivelling in her arms.

  “Are you okay?” She steps forward, but I wave for her to go.

  I guess she can sense I want to be alone, and I give a sigh of relief as she closes the door behind her.

  I grab an armful of blankets from the airing cupboard and Mum’s peg bag from the cupboa
rd beneath the kitchen sink. Moving the chairs away from the dining table, I open and position each blanket, pegging them into place. My little den, my safe haven just like when I was a child. I crawl between the legs of one of the chairs and sit huddled beneath the table, just me, the odd tear and my thoughts. I only know that time passes by occasionally glancing down at my watch.

  It seems ages before there’s complete silence, though it’s a silence that doesn’t last long. There’s a loud chink of bottles, the slam of a door and then Adrianna’s voice, but it is much calmer than before so I assume she’s speaking on the phone.

  “Danielle, can you come and get me?” Adrianna falls silent. “What do you mean? Tash was here? When? No, we haven’t seen her.”

  The dining room wall lights turn on and I hear footsteps. A shadow approaches.

  “I think I’ve found her. Give it an hour or so, then come and pick me up.”

  One peg and then another falls onto the dining room carpet; there’s an opening halfway down one of the blankets through which Adrianna’s face appears.

  “How long have you been here?”

  I gaze up at her, using my sleeve to wipe away my tears.

  “Long enough.”

  She reaches her hands towards me, taking mine.

  “Come on, you don’t want to sit alone. Let’s get you out of here.”

  “I’m not alone, I’m with Jenny.”

  Her eyes shift the length of the table. “Your Macmillan nurse?”

  “No, I’m not talking about her.”

  Adrianna rolls her eyes. “You’re not talking about my imaginary friend from all those years ago, are you?”

  I smirk.

  “Funny. Tash, come on.”

  I shake my head and pull away. “No, I’m scared. It sounds daft, but I feel safe under here.”

  “Tash…”

  “Will you stop calling me that? I’m not Tash, I’m Wendy.”

  Her head turns away. “I’m getting Dad.”

  “You needn’t bother, he’s gone out… Just come under here for a few minutes. I want someone with me so we can turn the clock back together, you know, like we used to…”

  “God, Tash, I was ten; I’m a little older and quite a lot bigger now.”

  I force a smile. “Adrianna, please.” Now it’s me grabbing out for her hand. “Where I’m going, I really don’t want to go alone.”

  She no longer objects and moves a chair to crawl in to join me. Although a bit of a squeeze, she manages to sit at my side. Scrambling forward, I retrieve the pegs and clip the disturbed blankets back together. She rests her arm around my shoulder, hugging me tightly.

  “What’s the betting I’m John or Michael? I always had to be the boy.”

  We laugh.

  “Where to, sis?” she quizzes.

  “Head for the second star to the right; our first stop is the mermaid lagoon.”

  For an hour or more I’m not Tash any more, I’m Wendy in Neverland, her fairytale world, and I have no worries; I am cancer free. John and I hang out with the mermaids, then pay a fleeting visit to Tiger Lilly and the Red Indians. Unfortunately, we never manage to find the lost boys, so for now lost is how they’ll have to stay.

  Our adventures are disturbed when Danielle rings to say she’s outside, and asks Adrianna to hurry up because Logan’s due his feed.

  We crawl out of Neverland and back into the real world.

  “Thanks, sis.”

  “No need to thank me,” she said.

  As we get back to our feet, she takes me squarely by the shoulders.

  “Won’t you even consider another course of chemo? If not for yourself, for me, your family … and Gabriel.”

  “I’ve lain awake at night thinking about it, but I don’t think I can, I haven’t got the strength. I’d rather have some quality of life than weeks that just drag on.”

  “But you never know, the treatment could work.”

  “It never worked for nan, so what’s the point?”

  “Okay, it’s your call I guess, but don’t think I won’t keep nagging you, because I will.” She grins, squeezing my shoulders. “Guna really miss you.”

  Her eyes seem unable to meet mine and she’s quick to hurry out of the dining room. Not wanting to get under Mum’s skin by leaving a mess, I fold the blankets neatly and pile them up on the table.

  I send a quick text to Gabriel, wondering how he’s getting on with Dad. He texts back, telling me he’s been dragged round the local garden centre and for the last couple of hours has been looking at Christmas trees and decorations.

  I ask how long he’ll be, and after receiving a sad face emoji he says it won’t be any time soon, as Dad’s ordering himself lunch and a coffee.

  I wish I could hold my visit to Neverland accountable for how tired I feel; I’m literally having to drag myself around the dining room. Perhaps that lie down isn’t such a bad idea after all. I saunter along the landing towards my bedroom, but hesitate upon seeing Mum’s bedroom door slightly ajar. Maybe this is my chance to talk her round. I know they don’t always see eye to eye, but I know Adrianna would be devastated if she didn’t turn up to her wedding.

  I stand outside and listen, but when I hear nothing I tap the door with my knuckles and wait. Still hearing nothing, I tap again. The door opens. Mum doesn’t smile and turns away from me, walking towards the bed where there’s an open suitcase and next to it a pile of folded clothes. She doesn’t attempt to make conversation but continues to pack her personal belongings.

  “And where are you going?”

  Folding a pair of black linen trousers, she glances up.

  “I’m going to stop with my Aunt Nancy.”

  I walk around the bed, looking down at the hard-topped case.

  “That’s a little on the large side for a weekend away.”

  She shrugs. “Who said I was going for the weekend?”

  Mum lays her trousers in the case, smoothing them out. As she picks up a jumper to place on top, I take them back out and drape them over a coat hanger.

  “Natasha, what do you think you’re doing?” she snaps, grabbing them back off the hanger.

  I place my hand over hers. “Shouldn’t it be me asking you that?”

  “What’s the point of me stopping round here?” She tosses her trousers onto the bed. “Your dad doesn’t want to know, he hasn’t done for a long time; the only thing he’s in love with is that damn garden of his. And as for Adrianna, she’s made her thoughts more than clear this afternoon; she doesn’t care if I’m here or not.”

  She pauses for a moment, staring at me, and then her eyes narrow.

  “As for you, Natasha, all your life seems to revolve around at the moment is that painter. I thought after your weekend in London you’d get him out of your system. If only I knew what I know now I would never have booked that man to paint you.” She lifts her finger and taps the side of her nose. “We both know he’s the reason you and Josh split up.”

  I raise my eyebrow and open my mouth for a sarcastic comeback, but seeing the mascara smudged under her eyes and across her flushed cheeks, I think better of it. Bravo, Adrianna, guess the ice maiden does have a heart after all.

  Mum holds onto both sides of the case, swaying slightly, then flicks dark strands of hair out of her eyes. I notice an empty glass on the dressing table and a bottle of vodka she’d attempted to hide in the wastepaper basket. Given the circumstances, I hoped she would have been trying to curb her bouts of drinking, but I should have known better; it seems she can’t do without it. I jump as she slams down the lid of the suitcase.

  “So go on, tell me, what’s to keep me around here?”

  I sink down onto the bed and force a smile.

  “Me, Mum, that’s what.”

  My arms fall loose at my side and I look down at myself, at what I’ve become, no more than skin and bone. Then I glance into the mirror that sits opposite, but don’t smile at my reflection.

  “I’m the one,” I blurt out, “t
o keep you round here, Mum, because I need you; I need you now more than ever.”

  Mum steadies herself, staring into my eyes. “I saw you take your first breath, but I can’t…” She chokes, “I can’t be here to see you take your last. So get down off your high horse and give the treatment a chance.”

  “Why would I want to go through it all again? For it not to work?”

  “But you don’t know it won’t work.”

  “Give it a rest, Mum, I’ve heard it all before. Adrianna, Danielle, Dad, and Gabriel… I’m tired, so please, not another word.” My throat burns and my eyes sting. “I’ve made up my mind.”

  “Damn stubborn girl!”

  “Yeah maybe, but where do you think I get it from?”

  She pulls a crumpled tissue from the sleeve of her red cardigan, dabs her eyes and then walks over to sit at my side. Her fingers prise mine apart and slip gently between.

  “I don’t think I ever told you, did I?”

  I lean my head against her shoulder.

  “Told me what?”

  She pulls me into her but doesn’t answer, so now I seek her reflection in the mirror. My eyes distort with tears as I see her fingers weaving small ornamental plaits in my hair. It’s as if my life’s been rewound twenty years and I’m that little girl sitting on her mum’s lap being chastised for moaning when her hair is tugged a little too hard.

  “The day you were born…”

  Her soft words slip into my ears, and I blink back my tears as I listen.

  “I can see it as plain as if it were yesterday. You never cried, never made a sound. I looked down at your small lifeless body; you weren’t pink and bright eyed like I was expecting, but a deathly shade of blue. An alarm sounded, and doctors and midwives ran in from every direction. It took three of the longest minutes ever before you took your first breath, and a further ten for the doctors to stabilise you.” She lifts my chin and glances down at me. “I can honestly say that at the time I never thought I’d be bringing you home.” Mum’s eyes sparkle with tears. “Your dad, well everyone actually, thought I never let you out of my sight, that you were suffocated.”

  Unconsciously, I find myself nodding. “Well, the pageants did get a bit much, and I can’t say I enjoyed them.”