by Shari Low
‘Feel a bit bad now that I only brought our Dee a bunch of roses and a bamboo plant,’ Val said, making the three of us giggle. We weren’t being disrespectful. Dee would have been gutted if that scene went without one of Josie’s caustic comments or Val’s razor-sharp retorts.
I watched as Luke stepped forward, gently touched the headstone, and then came back to join us and I could see the effort it took for him to hold it together. Birthdays were a big thing in our group. The celebrations usually lasted a whole weekend and Dee’s usually involved some death-defying activity. Skydiving. Go-cart racing. Tank Driving. Paintballing. I still had the scars.
‘Right then, are we off?’ Luke asked, rubbing his hands together to heat them up.
Don and Luke walked in front of us as we headed back to the car. My arm looped through Val’s, as I realised something else. This was the first time in fifteen years that Pete hadn’t been with us on Dee’s birthday. I wondered if he’d even remembered today was her birthday? Did he care?
Val must have been reading my mind. ‘Have you heard from Pete?’
I shook my head. ‘The papers arrived from the lawyer yesterday for me to buy him out of the house. It’ll all be finalised within the next few weeks.’ I couldn’t keep the resignation from my voice. All the fight to hold on to whatever we had was gone and now I just wanted to break the last ties with as little pain as possible.
‘Are you going to sign them?’ she asked.
I shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. At first I wanted to stay where I was but now… I’m thinking that maybe it’s time to move. Too many memories,’ I told her and I knew she understood.
Val was still curious. ‘And have you seen him again since that time you stalked him?’
I shook my head, smiling as I rolled my eyes. ‘I prefer “casually bumped into him”,’ I clarified. ‘But no. I guess it would be different if we had kids or, you know, maybe a hamster, but there’s been no reason to meet up and he made it clear that we were done. I can’t believe I’ve loved him half my life and now he’s like a stranger. I’ll never understand it.’
‘I do. Spineless. Fecking spineless. If ever there was a man who deserved a boot in the bollocks, it’s that one,’ Josie piped in.
Val didn’t argue. She’d always had a soft spot for Pete, but the minute he’d betrayed me it was over. That was Val. The most loving, caring person, until you crossed someone she loved.
The table at the Tulip, the Mackintosh-inspired hotel and restaurant where we’d held Dee’s funeral, was ready for us when we arrived, a red velvet semicircular booth around a table with a crisp white cover. It might seem odd returning to a place that held such sad memories, but the happy ones overruled it. Dee was christened here, we had our graduation party here, our twenty-firsts, she got married in this very room, and almost every birthday and anniversary in the Murray family had been marked by a trip here. It was their favourite place. We belonged here. The only thing that felt strange to me was that Dee wasn’t here too. I pushed the thought from my mind.
We ordered mojitos, Dee’s favourite drink, ignoring the quizzical look from the waitress who probably didn’t get too many people asking for cocktails on a Thursday at 11 a.m.
As soon as they arrived, Don proposed a toast. ‘To my girl. The craziest, most beautiful, kind-hearted, and bloody untidy one that there ever was. Happy birthday DeeDee.’ His voice cracked on the last word.
‘Happy birthday!’ the rest of us piped in.
Luke’s turn. ‘And to my wife, who I miss every day. And who, if she was here, would probably tell me to man up and stop being pathetic. Happy birthday, my darling.’
The rest of us laughed.
‘Cutting, but true,’ I teased him.
‘Right then smart-arse, your turn,’ he said.
I thought about her every day, yet I didn’t know what to say.
More than anything I wished I could speak to her, even one last time, to tell her I loved her, that I missed her, and to ask her the questions that had been going over and over in my mind since New York. Despite doing my best to dig for information, I still didn’t understand what had happened. I’d searched the friends’ photographs on Dee’s Facebook page for any sign of the guy I’d seen but there wasn’t one. I’d gone through her phone and the camera she used to capture images on her trips but he wasn’t in there either. Other than going back and interviewing the staff at the Jazz Club and Tiffany’s, I was all out of ideas. Besides, there was still the possibility that it was a complete coincidence, or that the guy was just a business acquaintance that she’d promised to meet up with. I knew nothing of the facts of the situation, so I’d decided to put it all down to one big strange unsolvable mystery, and forget about it. Only, that was easier said than done. Especially on a day that was dedicated to honouring her in all her crazy, funny, unpredictable glory.
‘Happy birthday to Dee, who was never short on love, laughter, surprises, or really daft ideas that got us into no end of trouble,’ I toasted, to another rousing cheer from the others.
We turned to Val, and for a moment I thought she was going to crumble, but she took a deep breath, sat up straight and held her glass aloft. ‘To Dee Ida Murray…’
‘Ida?’ Josie asked, gobsmacked.
‘It was the only way I could get her to stop singing bloody “My Girl” in the delivery room the night our Dee was born,’ Val explained. ‘It was that or Don was going to have to press the fire alarm.’
‘True,’ Don nodded, deadpan. Luke, Josie and I were in stiches.
‘To Dee Ida Murray Harper,’ Val proclaimed, ‘who gave me grey hair, a few too many wrinkles, and thirty-two years of loving every moment of being her mother. Except that time she got wrecked on Pernod and blackcurrant at the school disco and I had to bin my white shagpile rug.’
The memory made me choke on my mojito. Dee had sworn we’d be so cool at the fourth year disco with our illicit alcohol in our Ribena bottles and we absolutely were. In fact, that was the first night I ever snogged Pete. Unfortunately, we weren’t so cool a couple of hours later when Dee was vomiting like something out of The Exorcist and Val was there with the Marigolds and the Dettol, trying to get the large purple stain out of her rug, while threatening to ground us until middle age.
Finally it was Josie’s turn. ‘Happy birthday to that messy lass Dee, who was clearly brought up to think the cleaning fairies would walk around after her, picking up her stuff.’
Val interjected. ‘She was indeed. I blame Don.’
Back to Josie, glass aloft. ‘My job is much easier since you’ve been gone… but I’d work all day long for ever more to have you back.’
I gave her a hug as we toasted. Yet another large slug of mojito on an empty stomach was beginning to make me feel a bit light-headed so I was glad when lunch came.
A sirloin steak, onion rings, thick-cut chips, peppercorn sauce, a banoffi pie and custard. To outsiders we must have looked like a happy family having a celebration, making toasts and being raucous.
We ate, we talked and we reminisced, and it was many hours before we were ready to leave, every mortifying story told, every disaster rehashed, every wonderful event played out again for us all to cherish.
I hugged Val, Don and Josie in turn before they climbed into their taxi for the ten minute ride home, and then waited with Luke for our cab. Our houses were only a few streets apart, a situation Dee had decreed would make complete financial sense on occasions just like this. ‘We can share taxis – we’ll save a fortune,’ she’d proclaimed when she and Luke had decided to buy a house so close to the one Pete and I owned.
‘Your house first or mine?’ Luke asked, as we waited.
I swayed against the pillar outside the grand mahogany door of the hotel, the cool air a welcome reprieve from hours of tequila hot flushes.
‘I don’t mind. Yours is first, so probably makes more sense.’
Just at that the taxi came round the corner and he held open the door as I climbed in. As I gave th
e driver Luke’s address, I spotted the time on the clock.
‘It’s only six o’clock,’ I said, more out of surprise than anything. It was still daylight, but it felt like we were heading home after a night out.
‘What’s that?’ Luke asked, climbing in the other side of the back seat.
‘It’s only six o’clock. Feels like later.’
‘Yeah, guess it does,’ he said, exhaling.
I put my hand on his. ‘You did great today. Val and Don wanted a celebration of her life and that’s what we had.’
‘We did. So what do you reckon? Would she have approved?’
‘Absolutely. Although she’d be trying to drag us all to a club right now to continue the celebration. You and I were always the lightweights.’
‘Yup, that whole “opposites attract” thing, wasn’t it? Me and Dee, you and Pete.’ He cut off to speak to the driver. ‘This next one on the right here, please.’
The cab pulled in to a stop.
‘Want to come in for a nightcap?’
I knew exactly what he was thinking. He didn’t want to go home to an empty house and, to be honest, I didn’t either. Especially not that house, especially not tonight.
‘Sure,’ I agreed, climbing out. I looked heavenward. ‘Are you watching, Dee?’ I whispered, while I waited for Luke as he was paying the cab. ‘Sometimes we’re not complete lightweights after all.’
Chapter 23
Val
He’d had way too much to drink, my Don. It was a long time since I’d seen him like this. Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t wrecking the house or ranting or singing, he was just looser, more like the old Don than he’d been since the day our Jen called us from the hospital.
The taxi had dropped us first, then went on into Glasgow with Josie in the back, singing ‘My Girl’ as she went. It was one of those songs, wasn’t it? Got stuck in your head and you ended up humming it for days. Bloody Ida.
‘Want a cup of tea, love?’ I asked him when we got indoors.
‘Not for me,’ he said, then he surprised me by taking my hand. We’d barely touched in months, and certainly nothing more passionate than that. I’d used the excuse that it was because Mark was here but we both knew it wasn’t.
He pulled me in tight and wrapped his arms around me. Those big, solid arms that had spent so many years on a building site and still had the strength of a man half his age. There had never been anyone but Don for me. Still wasn’t. Problem was, I didn’t feel anything for anyone anymore.
That wasn’t true. I felt pure, unadulterated hatred for Wilkie and his family. Thought about them constantly, ruminated over what I wanted to say to them when I got my day in court, face to face, not over a counter in a supermarket café. But that scum aside, my feelings seemed to have been switched off at the tap.
Don was swaying now, holding me tight in the middle of the kitchen, moving to an imaginary song he could hear in his head. Probably bloody ‘My Girl’.
We’d done this thousands of times before over the years, just him and I, when everyone else had gone to bed or gone home after a party, he’d put a bit of Frank Sinatra on the cassette player and we’d sway around the kitchen just like this and I’d think how lucky I was to have him, how blessed I was to have the life that I had.
The bitterness almost choked me.
‘Right, come on, love, I’m tired,’ I told him, breaking off, and to my shame, not even acknowledging the flash of hurt that I saw cross his big handsome face. It wasn’t even seven o’clock, but I couldn’t face watching TV or sitting at the kitchen table trying to think of things to say to each other. I wasn’t completely lying. It had been so long since I had a full night’s sleep that I permanently felt like I was existing in a state of pure exhaustion. Maybe an early night would help.
I locked the back door and headed up for a bath, killing another hour before going to bed. Don had stayed downstairs, watching a bit of TV, but came up when he heard me come out of the bathroom. I got to bed first, pulling on my pyjamas while Don headed to the loo. I hoped sleep would come quickly. I’d had too much to drink today to go out for a late night drive, so I was staying here whether I wanted to or not.
Five minutes or so later, Don climbed into bed, but instead of turning the other way, as he’d done every night for months, he pulled me into him, the way he’d done for the first thirty-seven years of our lives together.
‘I don’t know what to say to make this better for you, Val,’ he said, his voice low and sad.
I don’t know if it was shock or surprise, but it certainly caught me off guard. Don wasn’t one for talking about emotions or feelings. For the last four months we’d barely had a conversation deeper than what we were having for tea, and I didn’t blame him for that. It was as much as I could manage too.
‘I don’t think anything can,’ I said honestly, the darkness swallowing my words.
‘I know. And I feel the same. But, love, we’ve already lost Dee – and I think the day that she went, we lost each other too. I love you, Val. Every bit of you. And I’ll miss our Dee every day of my life. But we have to start living again, Val. Just tell me how I can help you see that.’
I couldn’t answer him, couldn’t get the words out. The pillow was wet with tears, and I don’t know if they were his or mine, but I did know that he was right. And I knew that I had to find a way to lift this pain, this rage at the bastard who had destroyed my family, otherwise one day it would finally dissipate and I’d discover that there was no one left.
Wilkie had taken Dee. I had to find a way to stop him taking more from us, but I just didn’t know how.
Chapter 24
Jen
The balcony was my favourite part of Dee’s house. Luke’s house. Funny how I still thought of it as being Dee’s first. It was a townhouse, with bedrooms on the ground floor and the open-plan kitchen and living area on the first floor, to make the most of the views overlooking the hills in the distance. When Luke and Dee moved in, Don had replaced the lounge window with doors, and added a gorgeous semicircular balcony. It helped to have a dad that was a builder. The décor was all Dee, though. Silvers and greys, plush pile carpets, velvets, leather and crystals, a blingtastic combination that looked like the inside of one of the five-star hotels she’d visited on her travels. Unfortunately Dee had always lived like she had a five-star hotel housekeeping service too. Thank God for Josie.
‘Josie doesn’t come in anymore,’ Luke said, making me laugh. ‘Coffee, wine or beer?’
‘I was just thinking about that. And beer.’
He pulled out two bottles from the fridge and handed me one. After all the mojitos, I couldn’t face more spirits, but I wasn’t in the mood for coffee. Dee wouldn’t approve of the party being over yet.
We took the drinks out on to the balcony, grabbing a huge thick fur throw that Dee kept by the door, before slumping into the two wicker armchairs that sat side by side.
‘Hang on, back in a minute,’ Luke said. ‘Just going to grab a sweatshirt before hypothermia sets in.’
A few moments later he was back, his suit swapped for jeans and a thick jumper. He handed me a sweatshirt I recognised immediately. Abercrombie & Fitch. Another purchase from Dee’s last New York trip. She’d bought it for me, then borrowed it one night and I’d never seen it since. The thought of that made me smile. I pulled it on and rearranged the blanket around my legs. There was a comfortable silence for a few moments, both of us lost in thought, processing the day.
Luke spoke first. ‘Do you ever look back and think that life was great, and wonder why it all went to crap?’
‘Every day,’ I said ruefully, but trying to keep my tone light. ‘At least a dozen times. And that’s before breakfast.’
That made him smile.
Another few moments of silence, each of us pulling our thoughts through a well of way too many mojitos.
‘You know, sometimes I used to wonder if I was enough for her. I’ve never told anyone that before.’
I turned to look at him, surprised. ‘Of course you were enough. Why would you think that?’
He shrugged. ‘Because it’s true. I’m not feeling sorry for myself or being maudlin, it’s just the way that it was. I think we were lucky that she had a job that added a bit of excitement and variety. She needed that. Needed to always be planning something, doing stuff. It was like she could never just be content with what we had, always had to be planning the next thing, researching the next trip, looking for that rush.’
It was strange. I’d known Dee for most of my life and I knew all this to be true, but I’d never realised that it worried Luke.
‘We had a fight that morning,’ he said, almost a whisper.
‘Really?’ I replied, surprised. In my mind I skipped back to that day. I’d replayed it a million times in my mind, but only from when the police arrived to deal with the noise from next door. Before that we were on the sofas, laughing about sore bones and her hangover. ‘She never mentioned that. What did you fight about?’
‘Kids.’ The weariness in Luke’s reply made me want to hug him. ‘We’d been talking for months about whether it was time to start a family… Actually, scratch that. I’d been talking for months about whether it was time to start a family and she’d been telling me all the reasons that it wasn’t.’
I would have bet my last pound that Dee told me every single thing about her life, yet I knew nothing of this. ‘I don’t know if I’m more shocked that she didn’t want to start a family or that she didn’t tell me you were discussing it.’
Luke smiled. ‘You know what she was like – didn’t ever dwell on the tough stuff.’
That was true. It was one of the things I loved most about her. That ceaseless optimism and determination to live for the moment, never let anything bog her down.
‘I thought she wanted children though?’ I asked. “We used to talk about how we’d bring up our broods together.” That memory brought another flash of pain.
