‘How did Bob get on? Did he like the idea?’ Ellen asked as she foraged in the cupboard for a packet of biscuits.
‘He loved it, loved Pedro, loved the whole thing.’
‘Well there’s no need to look so glum about it. That face of yours could curdle milk.’ Ellen shook her head.
‘I know. It’s just that I kind of hoped Bob might be a little resistant. I mean, I want him to be happy, to have a nice time, of course, but he barely gave me a second look. His tail was wagging, he nuzzled up to Pedro and when I said it was time to go home, I reached for his lead and he actually whined.’ She sighed.
‘Don’t tell me you’re jealous?’ Ellen ripped open the packet of digestives and dumped them on the table.
‘Yes, I am a bit.’ She would only ever admit this to Ellen.
‘Well, snap out of it. Far better that than to have him crying and fretting. How would you feel leaving him then?’
‘You have a point. I guess I can’t have it both ways.’ She reached for a biscuit.
‘All packed and ready?’ Trevor asked as he ambled into the kitchen, freshly showered and in his stocking feet, his work clothes replaced by clean jeans and a jersey. ‘Only a week to go.’
‘Yep. Getting a bit nervous, actually,’ she admitted.
‘What is there to be nervous about?’ He smiled. ‘You’ve got Elle with you, Mrs Calm-in-a-Crisis, what could possibly go wrong?’
‘Don’t. You’re making it worse.’ She bit into her digestive.
‘Personally, I’m looking forward to the break.’ He winked, just before a tea towel came flying across the room and unfurled itself around his head.
It was at moments like this that Vivienne wondered what it might have felt like to be part of a foursome, to have Ray larking around, joining in the banter. He might have been a spineless loser, but he did know how to have fun and with him there she would have felt less like an interloper.
‘Look at her face,’ Ellen pointed at her friend. ‘She’s worried Bob might have feelings for another.’ Ellen updated her husband.
‘Oh, it’s not that, I was just…’
‘Just what?’ Ellen pressed.
‘You’re right.’ She gave a tight smile. ‘I am ridiculously jealous over Bob.’
‘Do I have to throw a tea towel at you as well?’ Ellen snapped.
Vivienne shook her head and finished her biscuit.
*
Having ironed the last of her T-shirts and put them all in the case, hoping they might arrive crease-free, she switched on the lamp and sank down on the sofa with Bob lying on her feet and the theme tune to Corrie playing in the background. It was only early evening but having worked her last shift before her holiday and said goodbye to her Asda colleagues, tiredness was now creeping up on her and she could quite easily have dozed off. At the sound of the doorbell, she sighed. ‘Who’s that then, Bob?’ she asked, as if he might tell her, having not only magically acquired the ability to speak but also displaying hitherto undiscovered psychic powers. He was less than impressed at being shifted from his comfy position.
‘Aaron! What a lovely surprise.’ She gratefully accepted a kiss on the cheek. ‘Lizzie not with you?’ She looked over his shoulder before shutting out the cold winter’s night.
‘No, spin class.’ He sighed. ‘Are you not putting your decorations up?’ he asked with an air of disappointment, casting his eyes over the walls and shelves where usually ceramic Santas would wobble on legs made of springs, dusty wreaths of dried holly with shrivelled berries would perch on top of the pictures and miniature tinsel Christmas trees would sparkle next to the lamps.
‘Do you know, I didn’t see the point, not with me going away and Emma’s big day. That’s taken up all of my thoughts and planning. Besides, there’s only going to be me here when I get back, so I thought I might get a tree last minute if I feel like it. I’ll be at Elle’s on Christmas Day.’
‘You can come to Lizzie’s mum’s, you know that.’ He looked a little sheepish and Vivienne, knowing her son’s every expression, could tell that the invite must have been offered if not reluctantly then without any great enthusiasm on his wife’s part.
‘Oh, that’s kind, love, but I don’t really know them and there’s nothing worse than those awkward silences with strangers at a time when everyone should be having fun. I’ll still see you, though. Maybe Boxing Day? Or whenever.’ She was careful not to apply any more pressure to his narrow shoulders.
‘Fancy a cuppa?’ she asked, walking towards the kitchen.
He nodded.
‘It’s not like you to pop in on a work night. Not that I’m complaining – it’s lovely to see you,’ she added.
‘I was passing by.’
She registered the lie, a little saddened that he couldn’t just say he wanted to chat.
‘I try to do everything I can to make her happy, you know, Mum.’
His admission was a little random, but was obviously something that had been playing on his mind. She abandoned the kettle and turned towards her son. ‘I know you do, love, and you are patient and hard-working. You’re a good husband.’
‘I’m not so sure.’ He kicked at the floor and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his suit trousers, reminding her so powerfully of his twelve-year-old self that it brought a lump to her throat.
She considered how best to proceed. ‘Are you happy, Aaron? Because, as I’ve always told you, that’s the only thing that really counts. That’s the goal and if you are happy, you’re winning and if you are not…’ she let this hang.
He looked up. ‘Sometimes I am, very happy, yes. And I don’t think anyone can be happy all of the time, can they?’
‘Maybe not.’ She drew breath. ‘But you do have a right to happiness, as much as anyone else, certainly as much as Lizzie, and you shouldn’t ever compromise that.’
‘She doesn’t mean it, Mum. It’s just her way, she puts up a shield. I know she can seem off, but she’s quite vulnerable underneath it all. I mean the fall-out with Emma, she has always wanted to travel and I think she let her jealousy get the better of her.’
‘Well that’s no excuse, love. Plenty of people feel a bit of envy for all sorts of reasons, but that’s no reason for meanness, least of all to someone like Emma who doesn’t deserve it.’
‘I know, Mum.’ He held up his palm, as if this might deflect her comments. ‘I think it’s more than that. She had a crappy childhood, her mum and dad weren’t like you, they were forever putting her down, telling her that she wouldn’t amount to anything and that’s why she’s so keen to have a nice house and all the trimmings. She wants people to see that she has succeeded where her parents told her she wouldn’t.’
‘I thought she and her parents were close?’
Aaron shook his head, ‘No. She’s still trying to get their approval. She’d do a somersault if they asked her to and even that wouldn’t be good enough. As I say, she’s not as tough as she makes out.’
‘Are you both coming to the wedding?’ she asked with a mixture of dread and hope.
‘No.’ He shook his head again. ‘Things are still a little bit strained with Emma and it’s not fair and I would be on edge and it’s a lot of money.’ He ran out of reasons and breath.
‘It’s okay. I understand and Emma will too. She loves you, you know, very much.’ She didn’t want him to think that Emma would be frosty over his decision.
‘And me her.’
Vivienne nodded. ‘The thing is, love, I only want you to be treated well, never taken for granted or dismissed, and sometimes…’ She paused, wondering how open to be. ‘Sometimes I think you try so hard to please her that what you want or need gets swallowed up, like you don’t count as much. And if she is being forced by her parents to jump through hoops for their conditional love, she should know it’s not the way to be. It doesn’t make you feel special and it shouldn’t be like that in a marriage. You should look after each other.’
‘Did you and Dad look after each oth
er?’
It was so rare for him to mention his father that this threw her a little. ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No, we didn’t. I looked after him and he treated me with indifference. It got to the point where I just stopped expecting to get anything in return, and that’s why I’m able to say it to you. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes. I think if I had fought my corner a bit more, stood up to him, even just once—’
‘He wouldn’t have gone?’ Aaron jumped in.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Oh no, he would still have gone, but I think that the me he left behind might have been a bit more able to cope with it. Stronger. I might even have made a new life for myself, who knows, if I’d had the confidence.’
Aaron smiled at her, reading between the lines. ‘I remember that first Christmas after he’d left, you were so sad and I didn’t know how to make things better. I hated how useless I felt.’
‘You were only little,’ she said soothingly. ‘That was never your job.’
‘I know, but I still felt bad.’
‘Oh, love.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry you felt that way.’
‘I don’t remember much about him, in fact I seem to remember him less and less as time goes on.’
‘You look like him, that’s for sure, and he was funny, like you, but he was cocky and loud, unlike you.’ She smiled. ‘He had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world.’ And the worst. When he turned his affection off, it left you bereft, lost, broken…
‘I’d like to be a dad,’ he admitted. ‘But I worry that I might be as rubbish as him and that scares me.’
Vivienne felt her heart swell at the admission. ‘Well it is scary having kids, but it’s scary having them no matter who your parents are, plus you are half me!’ she joked. ‘Have you talked to Lizzie about it?’
‘Yes.’ He laughed, looking to the ceiling. ‘A lot. And she’s worried she might be rubbish like her parents, I think we put each other off, planning for the worst case scenario.’
‘I think you should both have more faith. Most of us parent differently to the way our mum and dad did it, so you can take consolation from that, you can set your own path. Plus, look how you and Emma have turned out, you are both fabulous, kind, funny people, great citizens of the world and your childhood was a bit rocky for a while back there.’
‘I guess so.’ He seemed to perk up at this thought. ‘She’s also worried that she will lose part of herself and that scares her.’
‘And like I said, it is scary, and no less so now that you are in your thirties than it was when you were little. And you do lose part of yourself, that’s true, but the part you lose grows up into a beautiful human that more than fills that gap and brings you more joy than you could ever have thought possible.’
‘I love you, Mum.’
Vivienne walked over and took her boy in her arms. ‘And I love you. I’m always here for you, you know that, don’t you?’
She felt him nod against her neck.
5
Vivienne leapt out of bed. Worried about sleeping through her alarm, she’d checked the clock many times through the night, making sure that her alarm was actually set and continually verifying the current time. Nerves and adrenalin now saw her firing on all cylinders, getting ready to leave the house.
It had been strange spending a night under her own roof without Bob’s reassuring presence, but she’d decided it was best to drop him off at Pedro’s the day before. She didn’t want the panic of getting him settled at this ridiculously early hour.
Pedro had made a big fuss of Bob when they’d arrived, hugging him and letting him sniff around his immaculate apartment. ‘Don’t you worry about a thing,’ he’d reassured her. ‘I shall take great care of him and I’ll drop you a text update every so often.’
She was more than grateful, deciding there and then that she’d bring Pedro back something nice by way of a thank you. But the sight of the kitchen floor without Bob’s basket and bowl made her feel tearful. Even though she told herself it was only for a couple of weeks, she knew she would miss her faithful friend.
Trevor pulled up outside her house and opened the boot of his car. ‘All set, Mrs?’ he asked.
‘Think so.’ She pictured her passport, purse and travel documents nestling in the front pocket of her handbag.
As she climbed into the back, Ellen was shuffling around in the front seat. ‘Do you think I need to buy some Imodium? Don’t want a dicky tummy on that long flight and I can get a bit that way if I eat fried chicken.’ She pulled a face.
‘Well, don’t eat fried chicken!’ Vivienne stared at her friend.
‘But I always have fried chicken at an airport, it’s a tradition,’ Ellen replied.
‘A tradition that might give you the trots and it’s me that’s got to sit next to you for goodness knows how long.’
‘Thirteen hours to Kong Hong,’ Ellen replied, wide-eyed.
Both Vivienne and Trevor snorted their laughter. ‘You said “Kong Hong”,’ he snickered.
‘I never did!’ she yelled, convinced as always that if she shouted loudly enough, that made her right.
‘God help me.’ Vivienne settled down in the back seat. ‘This is going to be the longest thirteen hours of my life.’
Trevor smiled at her in the mirror but offered no words of solace.
After a rushed decanting from car to terminal at Heathrow, Vivienne watched, as Ellen and Trevor exchanged a brief peck of farewell. She felt the blush of awkwardness, even after all these years that there was no one special to kiss her goodbye. She found herself smiling at the departures boards flashing up destinations like Amsterdam, Tokyo, Sydney, Cape Town, Berlin, Lagos, Saigon and Kuala Lumpur. It was a wonderful feeling, standing there as planes ferried people around the planet with seemingly just as much ease as she might catch the bus to Patchway or Severn Beach.
Once they’d cleared security, both of them jittery and nervous of saying or doing the wrong thing, they were relieved to be sitting in a coffee shop, in uncharacteristic silence, watching businessmen in suits tapping away at phones or slender laptops, many of them with harried expressions. At the opposite end of the scale, tanned, elegant women with silk pashminas cast over their shoulders and decked out in perfectly pressed slacks and cool, breathable blouses walked at a leisurely pace, meandering in and out of designer stores with vast handbags on their arms, looking thoroughly bored by the routine of travel. Vivienne wondered how they managed to look so unruffled. Her own linen trousers were already creased and she felt in need of another shower and they hadn’t taken off yet.
Ellen’s stomach growled. ‘Fancy splitting a teacake before we get on the plane?’
‘Might as well.’ Vivienne nodded.
She watched as her friend queued and heard her loudly direct the girl who was serving towards the teacake she fancied at the front of the display. ‘None of that stale rubbish at the back, mind.’
Vivienne pulled her sunglasses from her hair and covered her eyes, trying to hide.
Finally installed in their seats on the plane, the two friends gripped each other’s hands, grinning and excited, as they secured their seatbelts and wriggled back to get comfy. The seat closest to the aisle was empty.
‘Hope no one sits there. We can have a gap between us for napping in. Take it in turns to flop over and doze on the other one.’ Ellen nodded, pleased with her plan.
No sooner had she spoken than a man in a suit sat in the free seat. Vivienne tried to look the other way as Ellen turned to her with crossed eyes and pulled a face.
‘Hello!’ Ellen suddenly swivelled and waved at the man, despite sitting only inches from him.
‘Hello.’ He gave a tight smile and immediately looked away, running his hand through his neat hair and busying himself with the in-flight magazine; anything, other than chat to her.
‘Where are you travelling to today, anywhere nice?’ Ellen asked.
He turned his head sharply. �
��Erm, Hong Kong – that’s where the plane’s going.’ His expression was quizzical.
‘Oh yes, of course. I do get in a muddle.’
He nodded and once again flipped the magazine open at a random page.
Ellen leant towards him. ‘If you don’t want your pudding off the little tray later, can I have it?’ She blinked.
He shrugged his shoulders and gave a nervous titter. ‘I… I suppose so.’
‘I should apologise in advance,’ she continued. ‘I’ve had fried chicken. I’ve taken me Imodium, but you never can be too careful. Just wanted to warn you in case I have to jump over you when you’re napping.’
Vivienne covered her mouth with her hand and looked out of the window, making out she was unattached to her friend, but not before she saw the man’s skin lose some of its colour. He gave a small nod.
With shaky hands he fiddled with his seatbelt then jumped up to go in search of a flight attendant. In less than no time, the attendant had moved him to another row entirely.
Vivienne laughed until her tears ran.
Ellen looked at her ‘What?’ She smiled.
The friends held hands again as the plane made a wonky ascent and gave off the odd unidentifiable noise. They then watched the same two movies back to back, so that they could laugh and comment in the same spots. They giggled out loud, oblivious to the stares of the more sedate passengers around them. After eating the food that came in little square foil boxes and sipping their plastic tumblers of rather nice white wine, toasting each other as though they were in the finest restaurant, the two dozed.
Vivienne lay back with her arms beneath the thin blanket and her head on the inadequate pillow. She smiled, thinking of Emma, soon to be married and waiting for her, and pictured how wonderful it was going to be to take her girl in her arms again. I’m coming, Emma. I’m on my way, my darling…
I Won't Be Home For Christmas Page 8
