Always With Love

by Giovanna Fletcher

  ‘I think so,’ I say, my hands cupping my cheeks that are stretched wide thanks to the huge grin on my face.

  ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘Today.’

  ‘Is it close by?’

  ‘Very,’ I nod. ‘Above the shop.’

  ‘What?’ she asks, looking delighted and confused all at once.

  ‘The tenants are moving out at the end of the month.’

  ‘Right …’ she says, taking a deep breath as she looks across at me. ‘Well, I guess it makes sense for me to go to Colin’s for now then.’

  ‘If that’s what you want to do.’

  ‘Makes more sense me moving there than all three of them having the upheaval, possibly twice. Their place is equally as lovely as ours.’

  ‘It is,’ I agree.

  ‘So we’re both leaving this house,’ she says, her eyes welling up as she purses her lips together.

  ‘I guess so,’ I nod, tears filling my own eyes now that it’s been decided upon. ‘It’s been a lovely home.’

  ‘It has, hasn’t it,’ she agrees, looking at the room around us and out into the back garden. ‘I can remember when me and your dad first came to see it. We knew instantly that it was right for us. Actually, the previous owners were a lovely elderly couple who’d lived here for decades. Their children had already grown up and left home, but outside there was still a rickety old wooden swing,’ she says, her eyes glistening as she recalls the moment. ‘I can remember him turning to me and telling me we’d found the one and knowing it was purely because this couple had shared a long and happy life in it. That’s what he wanted for us. And for you.’

  ‘I don’t remember an old swing,’ I muse, only able to remember a plastic red and yellow one that sat in the middle of the lawn.

  ‘Of course not,’ Mum laughs. ‘As soon as you came along your dad realized what a death trap that rotting piece of wood was and chucked it out.’

  ‘Nice,’ I squawk, screwing up my face and laughing with her.

  ‘We had some lovely times here,’ she smiles.

  ‘What happens now?’

  ‘I’ll talk to Colin and then put it on the market, but obviously half of it is yours anyway.’

  Death is a funny thing. Two of the people I love more than anything die and I end up set for life … I’d rather have Dad and Molly back, obviously, but it’s lovely knowing that whatever happens they’re still playing a key role in my future.

  33

  My newly formed plan isn’t the only thing to keep me upbeat and happy. The arrival of Lauren also fills me with more elation than I thought possible for any Buskin that’s not Billy!

  Thankfully, Lauren is granted a little bit more time off than expected and lands on our doorstep shortly after I get in from work the following Wednesday night. She’s dressed as though she’s been caught in a blizzard with a woolly scarf wrapped around her head so many times that only her eyes are visible – quite an effort as she’s only had to walk a few metres from the taxi to the door.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I laugh, watching her run into the warmth.

  ‘It’s bloody freezing,’ she shouts, her voice muffled through the fabric.

  ‘It’s actually far milder than it has b—,’ I start, although am stopped by Lauren who throws her small overnight bag to the ground and jumps on me, almost making us both topple over.

  ‘It’s so awesome to see you,’ she says, pulling the material away from her mouth to reveal a beaming smile.

  ‘You too,’ I grin, pleasantly surprised by my affection for her. ‘And it’s only been a few weeks.’

  ‘After the last few days it feels like years,’ she admits, shaking her hair free of her scarf and taking off her black knee-length coat.

  ‘So, how’s The Dragon been?’ I ask, taking her discarded clothes and laying them over the banister of the stairs.

  ‘Who, Mum?’ she replies, not missing a beat.

  My jaw drops as I stammer to find a response. I find myself just staring at her, unable to speak.

  Lauren cackles wickedly at her own joke.

  ‘You’re such a cow!’ I declare, feeling my cheeks turn bright red.

  ‘Patricia has been fine,’ she answers, following me into the kitchen where I pour us each a glass of white wine. ‘Strangely more relaxed over here.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘God, yeah,’ she nods, hungrily grabbing her glass and taking a sip as we sit either side of the kitchen counter. ‘I’m surprised she even lets me leave the office sometimes back at home, so it’s a miracle that she’s let me come out here.’

  ‘You had to ask permission?’

  ‘I know. I feel like a teenager again,’ she mutters, rolling her eyes even though she doesn’t look at all put out by the arrangement. ‘She’s just made me promise to keep my phone on loud and not be back late tomorrow. That’s it.’

  ‘So, Dragon’s got a heart?’

  ‘Who’d have thought?’ she laughs, helping herself to some olives I’ve put out on the table. ‘So how has it really been here?’

  ‘Fine,’ I shrug, not wanting to talk about how tough it’s been being apart from Billy, or how Peter overstepped the mark, or that I’ve finally made some concrete plans for my future. Call me crazy, but I think it’s important I share certain details with Billy before I start blabbing to his sister, no matter how much I love her.

  ‘Really? I think you’re forgetting that I’ve seen first-hand how difficult the whole long-distance thing can be.’

  ‘It’s what you make it,’ I offer back, not wanting to explain that her link to Billy is exactly why I find it difficult talking to her about it.

  ‘Fair enough.’

  ‘What about you? You’ve really turned everything around.’

  ‘By becoming someone’s skivvy?’ she questions, raising a playful eyebrow.

  ‘More like claiming some independence for yourself,’ I praise, shaking my head at her modesty. I fail to believe starting on the bottom rung of a ladder can be particularly easy when everyone knows your impressive affiliations. ‘Come on, you know what you’ve done.’

  ‘I know, I know …’ she admits, giving a reflective pause. ‘You know what, though?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s really given me a thirst for more. I like doing things separately from the family. I love leaving the house in the morning and doing something different. If anything, I feel bummed out when it’s time to go home,’ she admits, screwing up her face.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah … I think I might want to get my own place too. Not easy when I’m currently in this unpaid role, but it’s an idea.’

  ‘Wow, that’s quite a step,’ I say, impressed by her new drive and ambition, a bubble of excitement stirring within me as I think about the little flat above the shop.

  ‘But an exciting one, nonetheless,’ Lauren beams.

  ‘Definitely,’ I agree with a grin. It’s hard not to be sucked into her enthusiasm for her future and her desire to achieve more for herself. ‘Do you wish you’d got a job sooner?’

  ‘Nah,’ she laughs, slowly shaking her head while looking into her wine glass, her fingertips circling its rim. ‘I’ve had a lot of fun so I’ve nothing to regret there. And I don’t think I was ready before.’

  ‘So what made you get a job in the first place?’

  ‘A couple of things,’ she confides, looking up at me. ‘Jay was one of them. Seeing how he’s been building a life for himself away from the shadow of being a less successful Buskin was one of them, but also that horrendous meal on New Year’s Day.’

  ‘Really?’ I say with surprise, sure I was the only one to keep thinking back to that day.

  ‘It was awful,’ she reflects, sounding disgusted at the memory. ‘I don’t want to be a part of that. I don’t want to be forcing someone to do something for my own benefit. And, unlike the twins, I don’t relish the thought of just being a socialite and trying to get my face pictured at the trendiest ho
tspots. I’m more than that. I’ve got substance.’

  ‘You certainly do.’

  ‘And I’m not saying what they’re doing is a bad thing,’ she adds, clearly not wanting it to look as though she’s judging her sisters for the choices they make. ‘But it’s not for me.’

  ‘Each to their own,’ I offer.

  ‘Exactly,’ she nods. ‘Actually, I spoke to Mum on the way here and she said Billy might be going out with them tonight. They’ve finally roped him into a night out.’

  ‘Really?’ I ask, not wanting to sound too shocked or out of touch. Billy hasn’t mentioned these plans to me at all, not that I’d want him to think he has to ask permission to go out with his sisters or anything like that, of course …

  ‘I’m surprised he hasn’t been out more to be honest,’ Lauren adds.

  ‘He’s probably been concentrating on work,’ I suggest, echoing what Billy has told me previously.

  ‘Maybe. Never stopped him before,’ Lauren shrugs into her glass of wine before looking up at me again. ‘A weird thing happened today … I’ve been offered another job.’

  ‘That’s amazing,’ I say, trying not to let my mind dwell on her comments about Billy’s partying ways.

  ‘I know, it’s paid and everything,’ she laughs, oblivious to the effect her comment has had on me.

  ‘So what’s the issue?’ I ask, noticing the new possibility has left her confused, which I’m guessing is why she’s spoken without thinking. There seems to be something far bigger on her mind. ‘You’d be able to start saving for your own place,’ I tell her.

  ‘Yes … while I rent somewhere else in Paris.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The job is in Paris,’ she shares, letting the information land.

  ‘No way!’

  ‘Yes way.’

  ‘Have you ever been?’ I ask, wondering where her thoughts lie on what could be a life-changing adventure.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Do you think you’ll take it?’ I continue, wanting to know more.

  ‘I’ve not had time to think, it all happened so quickly,’ she admits, blowing out her cheeks. ‘One of the designers cornered me this morning and thrust his card in my hand, telling me he was looking for an assistant before literally offering me the position.’

  ‘Just like that?’

  ‘Just like that,’ she shrugs. ‘It’s bonkers.’

  ‘I’d say.’

  ‘What would I tell Mum?’

  ‘Ah …’

  Telling my own mum that I was going to be moving out of our family home and up the road was hard enough, so I can only imagine how Lauren is feeling. And there’s no telling how Julie might take the news, having seen her in full emotional swing over the comings and goings of her children, I’ve no doubt Lauren is nervous of the fallout that moving thousands of miles away could cause.

  ‘I know it might look like I despise her at times and that we don’t get on, but she’s my mum. I know she’ll be gutted to see me go,’ she says, showing an unexpected fondness for Julie.

  ‘Your mum wants what’s best for all of you,’ I offer, finding my own heart soften towards the head of the Buskin household now that I know she’s about to be separated from yet another of her children. I know we’ve had our wobbly moments, but I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to have the family you raised spread so far apart. My thoughts turn to Molly and my own mum, and I find myself wondering whether it’s harder watching your only child up and leave to explore the world, or having your handful of children scattered across the globe. I imagine Julie’s heart must break every time she thinks of the distance between them all. No doubt it’s a catalyst for her sudden breakouts. Despite what I might have thought earlier, I don’t believe her actions are purely selfish, or rather, maybe her actions are actually led by more love than I’ve ever given her credit for. It must take a huge amount of selflessness to not get in the way of your child’s dreams, especially when they take them so far away.

  ‘Just talk to her,’ I suggest, knowing Julie will find it in her heart to be pleased for her youngest daughter.

  ‘You’re right …’ Lauren frowns, probably thinking about how that encounter might go.

  We’re interrupted by the sound of a key in the front door.

  ‘I’m home,’ Mum calls from the hall, cutting in on our conversation for now as she walks in and gets pulled into a hug by Lauren.

  ‘It’s so lovely to meet you,’ Lauren sings happily, acting as though she’s known Mum all her life.

  In response, Mum laughs, instantly won over by Lauren just as I was at the airport all those months ago.

  The next morning Lauren is up and out of the door before I’m even able to offer her breakfast. She literally chucks on her clothes, grabs her belongings and gives me a tight squeeze goodbye before jumping into a taxi.

  It was so lovely to see her. She was a ball of energy and wouldn’t stop asking Mum about the wedding plans. She was the perfect guest – continuously cooing with admiration for every detail Mum shared, as she pushed her own concerns and dilemmas away for the evening.

  I know Paris is still quite a distance from Rosefont Hill, but I selfishly hope she takes the position, as I’d love knowing she was that little bit closer.

  All the same, I didn’t sleep well last night when we eventually turned in. And now Lauren’s left, I find it impossible to stop myself scouring the news and my Twitter feed on my phone, looking for any details of Billy being out at a club. I never heard from him yesterday, but I imagine he wouldn’t expect me to have heard about his plans for a night out. I consider texting him a carefree message telling him how great it was to see Lauren, but then think against it. Instead I continue to stalk the internet.

  It’s only when I’m checking for the billionth time on my way to open the shop that little bits of information start trickling through, firstly on his mentions on Twitter.

  ‘@BillyBuskin You’re even fitter in the flesh. Thanks for the picture. xoxo

  ‘OMG, saw @BillyBuskin in Norish just now. He was wasted.’

  ‘@BillyBuskin Shame you couldn’t stand up tonight, really wanted to give you my number. Next time.’

  There are pictures to accompany some of the tweets being sent to him. A few of him looking in control and incredibly handsome as he arrives, several of him with various girls (who I’m guessing are fans who’ve asked for selfies), a couple of him dancing with Hayley and Jenny, and then dozens of him falling about, passed out on a sofa and being carried out of the back exit by James and some other security men I don’t recognize. It’s as though I’m receiving a storyboard of the messy events.

  The worst account of the night comes an hour or so later when the media catch wind of the story, with several outlets alluding to him having partied the night away with more than just alcohol.

  Is Billy really the sort to take drugs? I never would have thought so, but am I being too naive to think someone from that world wouldn’t be tempted? Whenever I’ve had a wobble over his partying ways before, I’ve been more focused on the way the press liked to paint him as a ladies’ man. Never have I worried about drugs, or even thought to. But having said that, the last time we broke up was due to him getting ridiculously drunk with Heidi Black and her forcing herself on him – his alcohol consumption making it difficult to push her off before a conveniently placed pap caught them ‘in action’. Maybe there was more to that story that I just hadn’t cottoned on to? Maybe it wasn’t just alcohol that had blurred his senses? Maybe I don’t know Billy Buskin as well as I thought I did.

  I hate myself in that moment. Hate myself for letting this piece of drivel written by people I don’t know cause such a whirlwind of emotions within me, and for making me question Billy.

  I go about the rest of the day in near silence, opting to remain in front of the oven as much as possible rather than venture out to the front of the shop much. Rachel must sense something is up, or maybe she’s aware of the speculation being formed. Ei
ther way, she leaves me to it and doesn’t try to force conversation out of me.

  At three o’clock in the afternoon my phone rings repeatedly.

  Rachel looks across and winks at me, gesturing she’ll be fine on her own.

  I go out into the little courtyard and sit on an upturned bucket, steeling myself for what’s about to be said.

  ‘Afternoon,’ I say, my cold and distant voice sending a chill through my body.

  ‘Please tell me you don’t believe any of it,’ he asks in a rush, sounding tormented and full of anguish.

  I don’t respond, simply because I’m not sure how to. I really don’t know what to think.

  ‘Someone must’ve spiked my drink or something.’

  ‘So it was drugs?’ I ask, shocked at his quick confession, my brain struggling at how to process the information.

  ‘No. Yes. I don’t know!’ Billy stumbles, sounding awful and confused. ‘I only had three drinks. I know I’ve been working hard on set and abstaining from everything, but there’s no way I’d have been such a lightweight. And I wouldn’t voluntarily take anything. I’m not that stupid, baby.’

  ‘Have you spoken to Rhonda?’ I ask.

  ‘She’s left me a rather stern voicemail or two.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ I admit, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice. I’ve never knowingly associated with anyone who’s taken drugs. I’m aware that fits in perfectly with my sheltered little broken home of a life, but I don’t care. The very thought of it freaks me out.

  ‘Sophie, I didn’t do anything wrong,’ pleads Billy, desperate for me to believe him.

  ‘But how can you remember? If you were as out of it as people are saying, how can you possibly remember what you did or didn’t do?’

  ‘I …’ Billy struggles to respond before the phone is snatched from his hand.

  ‘Sophie, it’s Jenny.’

  ‘Oh. Hi,’ I say, taken aback that Billy has anyone with him.

  ‘Look, I can assure you nothing untoward has happened. James was with us the whole night and I slept in Billy’s bed when we got back to make sure whatever was put in his drink didn’t trip him out and make him jump out the window or something.’