‘Do we really have to dredge up the past, Jennifer?’ she said, shifting in her seat.
‘Chris is here in the present, not the past, Mum. And the two of us are a package. You leaving made that happen, brought us together more than anything else. If you want to be a mum again, or whatever it is you really want, then you have to deal with both of us. Or neither.’
‘But love, I was thinking we could look to the future, like you are doing with – David, is it?’
‘Dan,’ I corrected her.
‘Yes, look to the future and all that you have ahead of you. I told Nige, I said, “It’s now or never, Nige – my little girl is becoming a woman.”’
I got to my feet. ‘You know what, you’re right, Mum. I don’t want to dredge up the past – not at all. Which is why I didn’t reply to your messages. And it’s why I definitely don’t want you at my wedding.’
I stood there, looking down at the woman whose absence had coloured so much of my life.
‘Maybe I should also have said that I didn’t want you ruining my hen night, but I thought you might just work that one out for yourself.’
The woman I knew as my mum but who felt like a stranger to me was finally lost for words. I picked up my coat and bag and walked out.
I’d called Dan from the cab – it was only a ten-minute walk home but it was raining hard, plus my feet hurt. Friday night Dan had been out for his stag so he was at home recovering. As I got out of the taxi he was standing by our open front door with a concerned expression on his face.
‘Jen, are you OK?’
God, sometimes I hate it when people say that. As he took me into his arms I began to sob – in a blubbery, spluttering way, not a gentle, sweet way. He led me upstairs and sat me down on our sofa, bringing over one of his zip-up hoodies to warm me up. He held me for a minute while I cried and then tipped my chin up to look at me. He saw right away that cocoa wasn’t going to cut it.
‘She didn’t ask a thing about me, or Chris,’ I said, when the sobs finally slowed. ‘She just spoke as if we should be carrying on where we left off. But that was two decades ago, Dan. Twenty years. What was she thinking?’
Dan stroked my hair and held me close. ‘God,’ he said. ‘I really can’t believe she came to your hen night.’
‘I know,’ I said, starting to find a smile. ‘I was having a really bloody nice time too. The girls from school had come all the way from London and Bournemouth, and best of all there wasn’t a willy-shaped straw in sight. We were going to go to karaoke … but then she turns up and ruins everything. I don’t think I even like her, Dan. She’s just a stranger. I had nothing to say to her at all.’
‘Why tonight?’ Dan said, shaking his head. ‘I mean, sorry babe, I don’t want to make it worse, but I feel annoyed with her even though I don’t know her. I hate seeing you so upset.’ He wiped away a tear from my cheek. ‘How could she think it was a good idea to just turn up?’
‘That’s just her way, Dan,’ I said. ‘Dad has given the odd hint that back when she was still living with us, life was a bit unpredictable. He said she tended to do things when it suited her, rather than when they needed doing. I know he tries not to say anything negative about her, but I’m pretty sure it was a bit of a whirlwind at the time. Maybe back then, when Mum’s ex got back in touch she got swept up in the drama of that romance. I don’t know … and perhaps she came to the hen night because she liked the idea of a big reunion with me, in front of an audience.’
‘She doesn’t sound anything like you or Chris,’ Dan said. ‘Or your Dad for that matter. It’s difficult to imagine.’
‘Yes, thankfully. Although I do think she and Dad loved each other. He says she used to bring him out of his shell, that they were chalk and cheese but he wouldn’t have wanted a wife just like him.’
‘I can see his point. I can’t think of anything worse than being married to a woman like me,’ Dan said, pausing to picture it. ‘No, I’m definitely happier with the wife I’m going to have.’
Dan kissed me, then led me by the hand to our bedroom and got out my favourite Gruffalo pyjamas. He talked to me about his evening, the DVD he’d been watching, while I changed into them. He climbed under the duvet, lifted it for me to get in and held me while I fell asleep. I knew Mum must still be in Charlesworth somewhere, but here in Dan’s arms I was out of her reach.
Chapter 31
Alison
‘Pastry delivery,’ Alison said, popping her head around Jenny’s doorway brandishing a white paper bag.
Jenny was sitting up in bed in her pyjamas, bundled in the duvet with a magazine propped up on her knees. The blinds were down, letting only a chink of natural light into the room, and a low murmur was coming from the radio. Jenny’s eyes were panda-like with smudged mascara and her blonde hair was tied back in a tufty ponytail.
‘Ali, hi,’ she said, looking a bit startled. ‘Come in, sit down.’ She flattened out a bit of duvet. ‘Sorry it’s such a mess in here.’
Alison sat down on the bed, tucking her legs up under her. ‘I hope you don’t mind me popping in. Dan let me in on his way out to the shops.’
‘No, no, it’s good to see you, let me get a plate …’ Jenny said, looking at the paper bag and starting to get up.
‘Stop right there,’ Alison said, holding her hand up playfully. ‘You stay put, I’ll grab one.’
Alison returned a moment later with a plate and put the pastries on it. She passed Jenny an almond croissant and took a plain one for herself.
‘It felt wrong leaving you last night,’ Alison said. ‘But it seemed like you needed some time alone with your mum.’
‘Oh, don’t worry. You were right.’ Jenny took the tiniest of nibbles from her pastry. ‘We do have a lot to talk about.’ Jenny’s voice caught and Alison could see she was on the brink of tears. ‘But we didn’t, talk I mean. I don’t want to until I know that she’s sorry for what she did. She doesn’t seem to regret a thing, Ali – she just went on about looking forward not back. And I don’t think Chris is part of this vision she has for her new life at all.’
‘Really?’ said Alison. ‘It’s hard to fathom, isn’t it?’ Alison gently shook her head. ‘He’s the kind of son any mother should be proud to have.’
‘You’re preaching to the converted here, Ali,’ Jenny said, with just a hint of her usual smile. ‘Chris is all that and more. While from the outside it may look like Dad and I are supporting him, it’s almost always been the other way round.’
‘So what did you say to her?’ Alison asked.
‘What I just said to you, about not being ready to talk, and that I don’t want her there at our wedding. I was pretty clear. After that I just walked out,’ Jenny said.
‘Fair enough,’ Alison said. ‘If I’d left the girls, walked out when they were so young … It’s pretty surprising that she expects to be welcomed back into your life, no questions asked. The love, or like even, is something she forfeited, isn’t it? Doesn’t she realise it needs to be earned back?’
‘She says that Dad has forgiven her,’ I said, ‘so I guess she thought I would too. But Dad’s only done that because he’s never stopped loving her. I bet he’s still holding out hope – even after all these years – that they’ll find a way to patch things up.’
‘His decision is his decision,’ said Alison. ‘And yours is yours. You’ve let her know how you feel, and that’s important.’
‘I know,’ Jenny said. ‘And it’s over now.’ There was an emptiness in her eyes.
‘You’ve got a wedding to a wonderful man to look forward to, in just over two weeks’ time.’ Alison said, with a bright smile. ‘What do you say we focus on that instead?’
Jenny nodded without a word, then covered her eyes with her hands, as if trying to stop herself from crying. Alison moved in closer and put an arm around her.
‘Is there something else going on, Jen?’ Alison asked. Jenny wiped her eyes.
‘I’m just not feeling excited, Ali. About gett
ing married. All I feel is flat.’ Alison stroked her friend’s hair. ‘What I can’t get out of my mind,’ Jenny said, taking a deep breath, ‘is what if Dan and I have children and I do the same thing?’ Her words were slow and considered. ‘What if I can’t settle either? What if, however much I’m in love with him now, I stop loving Dan one day, the same way she stopped loving Dad?’
Jenny turned to look Alison in the eye. ‘She left us, and half of me is made up of her, Ali.’
‘Wherever your genes came from, you’re your own person, Jenny,’ Alison said, ‘and you know yourself better than most. Having doubts before you make this kind of commitment is totally natural.’ She gave Jenny’s arm a squeeze.
A moment later Alison got up and went over to the window, opening the blinds with a snap and letting the light stream in. Jenny winced as the sun hit her.
‘Come on, you’re not a vampire, Jenny. It’s past midday – even Sophie and Holly will be out of their PJs by now.’ Jenny looked down at her pyjama shirt. To top things off it now had a bit of marzipan from the croissant stuck to it.
‘Get in the shower.’ Alison pointed to the door, ignoring Jenny’s pleading look. ‘I’m going to tidy up a bit in here and then there are some people I want you to meet.’
‘So this was how the school house looked back then,’ Ruby said, showing Jenny a black and white photo of a classroom.
Jenny cast her eye over the picture of the place that was going to be her wedding reception venue, and Alison peeked over her shoulder. Little boys in shorts and girls in pigtails were lined up in front of the large blackboard for their school photo.
‘There’s our Jimmy,’ Ruby said, pushing her reading glasses up her nose and pointing to a boy with freckles in the front row. ‘He’d only just started then and you can tell, can’t you? He was a bit nervous, poor lamb.’
Jenny, Alison, Jamie and the Spencers were sitting at a table in Jamie’s café – or rather the building site that was going to be Jamie’s café. It was still very much a work in progress, with crates, ladders and piles of plaster dust on the floor, but the place was slowly beginning to take shape, with tables and colourful mismatched chairs by the window now, a specials board lying on the counter, and a till ready to be plugged in. On the walk over, Alison had told Jenny about her morning’s work – helping Jamie clear out Ruby and Derek’s attic and bringing the furniture over in the back of her car.
Jamie had insisted that Ruby and Derek come over and take a look at where their bits and pieces were going to go. Ruby had been delighted at the idea and had gathered up some old photo albums to take with them. ‘There’s all sorts in here,’ she’d said. ‘They might give you some ideas for the décor.’ While Alison was out seeing Jenny, Jamie had sat down to look through the albums with them.
‘You’re having your wedding party at the school house, aren’t you?’ Derek asked, looking up at Jenny and pointing at the photo of little Jimmy’s school days. ‘I am, yes,’ Jenny replied. Alison could tell from her voice that tears still weren’t far from the surface, but she was looking a whole lot better than she had been that morning. She’d put on grey skinny jeans with a white T-shirt and a purple cardigan and blow-dried her hair until Alison had given her the nod that she was looking respectable enough to be seen in public.
‘Ooh, and look at this one of the town hall,’ Ruby said, passing the other women a photo of the place where Jenny and Dan were set to say their vows. The photo was taken from quite far away and the building looked more or less the same as it did now.
Ruby smiled. ‘Look at it closely,’ she said. Alison and Jenny squinted to make out the figures on the steps; they were children, but this wasn’t a formal school photo. They were carrying satchels and something else that neither of them could quite make out.
‘See their gas masks?’ Ruby said. ‘That’s where the evacuees arrived, this lot were straight off the train.’
‘I wasn’t around then of course,’ Derek chimed in, ‘but Charlesworth had quite a few, didn’t it, Ruby?’
‘Yes,’ Ruby said, casting her mind back. ‘They came in from London and the local families around here put them up. It was a bit of a change for our little old town, I’ll tell you. But a lot of the families enjoyed it. I heard there was even a romance, a girl from London who grew up and married a boy from here,’ she said.
‘How sweet,’ Alison said, before picking up one of the photo albums and turning the page. ‘Those adverts on the wall are great,’ she said, pulling out a photo of children playing near the high street. Bold signs for cleaning products and Brillo pads were painted onto the brick. ‘Maybe we could do something similar in here,’ her eyes drifted out to the empty back yard.
Derek and Jamie had started talking about the café’s electrics, and they got up, leaving the women at the table. They walked over to the light sockets where wires were still loose, and as Derek leaned in closer to inspect one, Alison could hear him offering Jamie some words of advice.
Ruby turned to Jenny then, ‘Are you looking forward to it, dear, getting married?’
Jenny’s eyes started to water again as she nodded.
‘There’s nothing wrong with being nervous, you know,’ she said, with a kind look. ‘It’s a very big step. Alison knows that too, don’t you?’
Alison smiled, adding, ‘Yep, I do, and on the good days it’ll seem like the best decision you ever made.’
‘I know Dan’s the right person,’ Jenny said, ‘but how can I be sure that I’m up to it? That I’m strong enough to stick with marriage?’
She looked over at Ruby. Between them were the photos that marked out the decades Ruby and her husband Derek had spent together, smiling children’s faces, candles on birthday cakes, sandcastles by the sea.
‘Well dear, I was excited about marrying Derek, but gosh, I had those doubts too,’ Ruby said. ‘You know what the trick has always been for us?’ she went on. Jenny and Alison’s full attention was on her. ‘Shepherd’s Pie on Tuesday.’
Jenny tilted her head, unsure.
‘And I’ll bring him the paper every morning. You see there’s no good looking at your whole life and trying to guess how it’ll be,’ she said, ‘because it doesn’t work like that. But Derek’ll make me tea each afternoon, and I always know that’s coming. And since the children left home, we go ballroom dancing together every Saturday, play Scrabble with friends on Monday night, and we watch our soap together on a Sunday afternoon. From our first days as a married couple, it’s always been like that, our routines, taking a moment here and there to do something for one another.’
Jenny and Alison listened intently as Ruby continued.
‘As you get older you see that what you thought were little things, why, they were really the big things all along.’
Chapter 32
Jenny
‘Voila!’ Maggie said as she put our coffees and some lemon drizzle cake down on the plastic table. We were back in the car boot sale’s refreshment tent, sitting on plastic gardening chairs, surrounded by older ladies in bright dresses chatting to one another. We’d decided to leave the stall-browsing till a bit later today.
‘Ali told me you’re feeling a bit better now?’ Maggie said, taking a seat and giving me a kind look. ‘Christ, I really can’t believe your mum just turned up out of the blue like that! Certainly made for a pretty dramatic end to the hen do.’
‘Drama would seem to be her forte,’ I said. ‘But I think she’s finally got the message now. And you know what, apart from her turning up I enjoyed every minute of the hen, and the good bits are what I’ll remember. So thanks for coming, you two.’
‘It was a giggle, wasn’t it?’ Maggie said. She picked up a forkful of cake and a mischievous smile crept onto her face. ‘And this reminds me,’ she went on, ‘something happened to me last week.’
‘Did he call?’ I asked, my heart sinking. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Maggie go through a drawn-out break up, with the kind of toing and froing Jon had put Chloe th
rough.
Maggie smiled, not giving anything away.
‘I hope he’s planning on making it up to you,’ Alison said. ‘What did he say? Must have been quite an apology.’
‘Dylan …?’ Maggie laughed and shook her head. ‘I mean yes, he did call, various times actually. But I never picked up, and now I’ve blocked his number. He’s probably back in the States by now, and good riddance.’
A wave of relief came over me, and I saw Alison’s tense expression soften too.
‘What then?’ I asked. I was on the edge of the plastic gardening chair by now.
‘Someone else,’ Maggie said, leaving the words dangling.
‘Who?’ Alison and I demanded in unison. A twenty-year age gap made no difference to our levels of girlish excitement.
‘Well …’ Maggie started. ‘It’s ridiculous. And reckless. And far, far too soon. Going absolutely nowhere …’ she said.
‘Who?’ Alison repeated.
‘But I’m enjoying myself,’ Maggie said, ‘and there’s no way I’m getting close enough to get hurt this time, so while I panicked a bit at first, now I just think what have I got to lose?’ She caught Alison’s inquisitive glare again, and conceded at last. ‘He’s handsome, creative … often pretty muddy – and a fair bit younger than me,’ she confessed, her cheeks glowing.
I racked my brain, who else was on Maddie’s radar? She’d been so wrapped up in Dylan I couldn’t think of any other men she’d mentioned.
‘Do you remember me talking about Owen?’ Maggie said, after what seemed like an eternity. ‘The landscape gardener, the one on the Darlington Hall wedding?’
‘Yes,’ I answered, confused. ‘The arrogant one, who you despise, and who is making your working life a misery?’
‘Yes, him,’ she answered. ‘So it turns out we don’t hate each other that much after all. In fact we nearly got caught not-hating-each-other-that-much in the woods behind Darlington Hall last week.’ She smiled, blushing. ‘We got a bit, ahem, carried away, plotting out a fairy-light trail for Lucy and Jack’s guests, when the gardener came by.’
The Vintage Teacup Club Page 21
