This Changes Everything

by Helen Mcginn

  ‘I feel like I’m in a film. This looks like a set.’

  ‘Thank goodness, then, the fountain’s only small. Otherwise I think you might be in there.’ Patrick motioned to the water.

  ‘Have my Anita Ekberg moment? Wrong fountain…’

  They crossed the Tiber on the Ponte Garibaldi and walked along the still busy streets. People took theirs seats at tables outside restaurants. Young Romani scooted past, sounding their horns as they weaved through pedestrians. As Patrick and Julia passed through a small park, they saw older Roman couples sitting on benches watching as dogs played on the small patch of grass in the middle.

  ‘What did your children make of you coming here?’ Julia thought of her daughters, their faces a picture when they met in the church.

  Patrick laughed. ‘I didn’t tell them. I knew they’d be anxious. Ridiculous, I know. You’d have thought that doing what I did for years would reassure them, that I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.’

  ‘It’s funny, isn’t it? How we spend all those years worrying about our children. Then before you know it, it’s the other way round. My daughters sometimes seem to forget I did manage to bring them up. I’ve been there, done that. Got the lines to prove it.’ She touched a hand to her forehead, feeling the soft skin under her fingertips.

  ‘But I guess they’re just concerned about us getting old. Thing is, right this minute I don’t feel old at all.’

  ‘I think Richard would be very happy about that.’ Julia put a hand to Patrick’s face.

  ‘God, Richard! Poor thing’s been left on the shelf, quite literally, in the hotel since we’ve been here. But yes, I think he would too. Now, just up here on the right is the most wonderful sight. Shall we take a quick detour?’

  Turning right, Patrick headed down a narrow cobbled street and ushered Julia on ahead. There, round the corner, was a square stone basin with four marble shells and four young figures carved in bronze, each holding a turtle above its head.

  ‘Oh, I’ve never seen this!’ Julia walked slowly around the fountain. ‘It’s so pretty.’

  ‘Isn’t it? There’s a love story that goes with it. Apparently a duke had it built overnight to impress a potential father-in-law who lived here in the palazzo, to win the hand of his daughter. Sadly the timings don’t quite add up for it to be true – there was no palazzo then – but I love the idea of it.’

  ‘But isn’t that the thing about great love stories? It’s all a matter of timing. And sometimes the timings just don’t work.’

  ‘Sometimes, sadly, they don’t.’ They held each other’s gaze for a brief moment before Patrick placed his arms gently on hers. ‘Right, come on. I’m hungry now. And your daughters will be waiting…’

  The entrance to the Pantheon still boasted an impressive audience of tourists and the piazza buzzed with activity. Musicians played, children ran through the moving crowds fuelled by late ice creams, and groups of gazing tourists stood listening to tour guides, their faces turned to the building’s façade.

  They moved carefully through the crowds. ‘It’s just up here.’ Patrick gestured ahead. Turning down another side street off the piazza, they came to the restaurant. ‘After you.’

  Walking in, Julia noted the stark wooden tables, each set with a single white rose in a small vase. They were quickly shown to their table in the far right-hand corner. The waiter, smart in a white jacket and black bow tie, placed water down, followed by menus and a wine list.

  ‘Should have known. Jess is always late.’ Julia picked up the list.

  ‘Well, we’re not in any hurry. Let’s get something to drink. What do you fancy?’

  ‘I think a glass of their house white will do perfectly well. Oh, look, oysters!’ A waiter passed carrying an enormous plate of shimmering oysters on a bed of crushed ice. ‘My favourite.’

  Patrick pulled a face.

  ‘Are you not a fan?’ Julia looked disappointed.

  ‘Had a bad oyster once. Never again.’

  She couldn’t help but laugh. ‘So you’ve survived some of the most dangerous places on earth but an oyster can floor you?’

  ‘I know. I’m a wimp when it comes to oysters.’

  ‘Then why on earth did you suggest this place?’

  ‘I didn’t want to offend Jess. And she seemed keen to try it. I didn’t want to be rude. Anyway, there are plenty of other things on the menu. It’s not all seafood.’

  Julia squinted at the menu. ‘It sort of is. And it does all look rather… goodness…’ Julia noted the prices on the right-hand side of the menu. ‘It’s not cheap, either. Oh, Patrick, I am sorry. Not that you’re paying obviously but—’

  ‘Honestly, I’m very happy. Just don’t take offence if I pass on the oysters.’

  Annie checked the time on her phone again. She’d been waiting in the foyer of the hotel for Jess for over fifteen minutes. Since they’d returned, Annie had had time to have a shower and read some of her book before falling into a blissful sleep. The sound of her phone ringing had woken her up.

  It was Patty, who reassured her that everything was under control. The boys, she said, were in high spirits. (Annie knew this was Patty’s way of letting her know they were being a handful.) But James was due home soon and they were all looking forward to seeing Annie the following day. She, in turn, had been thrilled to hear their voices.

  Then Annie had pulled on her jeans, a long-sleeved black sparkly top, put on some make-up – a slick of red lipstick and some black eyeliner and mascara – and pulled her hair out of its ponytail. She grabbed her khaki jacket, thinking it suddenly looked a little more worn that she’d remembered. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she’d seen it wasn’t quite the transformation she’d been hoping for but it would have to do.

  Now, looking up from her phone, she watched Jess enter the foyer. She wore a long sleeveless orange silk dress, her hair was pulled back from her face in a long ponytail, and there was just a faint touch of colour on her cheeks and lips. A long scarf the colour of clotted cream hung over her arm and her hand clutched a small black bag, the gold letters signalling its expense.

  Annie suddenly hated everything she was wearing, from the too sparkly top to the scruffy trainers on her feet.

  ‘Annie, you look gorgeous! Sorry, have you been waiting long?’

  ‘Oh, I do not. I look like I’m trying too hard.’ Annie tugged at the sparkly top.

  ‘You really don’t. Strong look.’ Jess smiled reassuringly. ‘Come on, they’ll think we’ve chickened out.’

  Annie feigned a laugh, but really all she wanted to do was go back upstairs, take off the top and make-up and throw on a T-shirt. But it was too late, and before she knew it Jess was pushing her through the revolving door and out onto the still warm street.

  ‘So, what do you think he’ll be like?’ Jess was leading the way, across the river and back towards the Centro Storico.

  ‘Well, I thought he seemed lovely. Polite, nice smile, clean clothes…’

  ‘That’s all very well but I still don’t get why now, why here. I mean, if he managed all this time without Mum, why wait until you’re going to bloody Rome to meet up?’

  ‘You know why. It’s their friend, whatshisname…’

  ‘Richard.’

  ‘Exactly, Richard. Mum said they were all friends when they were younger.’

  ‘Yes, but I’ve never heard her mention him, or Patrick, for that matter.’ Jess’s clipped tone had returned.

  ‘But you don’t think about your parents before you were born, really. You know, who they were, who their friends were, unless they were in your life, too? It’s like their lives started when yours did. Or is that just me?’

  ‘I just hope she isn’t doing an Exotic Marigold on us.’

  ‘Jess! What do you mean? She’s allowed a life. Just because she’s in her seventies… I think we need to give her the benefit of the doubt.’

  ‘Annie, she’s been given that a few times since Dad. I’m not su
re I can face another wedding.’

  ‘Not your favourite thing, are they?’

  ‘Uncalled for.’ Jess shot Annie a look.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean…’

  ‘Ignore me. Let’s go and see what he has to say for himself.’

  ‘God, he sounds like a man condemned before we’ve even started.’ Annie laughed. ‘Be nice, Jess.’

  ‘Of course I’ll be nice! Honestly, I’m not that bad.’

  ‘I know, just don’t frighten him off. Not yet, anyway.’

  They headed south along a long, cobbled street before crossing a small square and going down another narrow passage. The tables outside the restaurant, squashed up against the wall on one side, were all taken.

  ‘No sign of them yet. Time for a quick drink over there before we go in?’ Jess motioned towards a small bar on the other side of the road, clearly popular with the younger crowd, given the number of beautiful Romani standing outside, bottles of beer or glasses of wine in hand.

  ‘No, we’re late already. They must be inside. Thank goodness, it might be a little cooler in there.’ The air was warm and heavy. Annie headed for the door.

  ‘Coming. Just having one last go on this.’ Jess grabbed her e-cigarette from her bag and held it up. ‘Be right behind you.’

  ‘What took you so long?’ Julia stood to greet Annie. ‘Where’s Jess?’

  ‘Sorry, Mum, it took a bit longer than we thought. Hello again, Patrick.’ Annie smiled warmly before kissing her mother on the cheek and taking the seat next to her.

  ‘Sorry, sorry, my fault…’ Jess swept up to the table in a cloud of hastily applied scent, a habit she’d developed back when she was on real cigarettes. ‘Hello, Patrick, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Hi, Mum.’ Jess blew a kiss across the table to her mother and swept into the seat next to Patrick, now half-standing, half-sitting as he greeted them both.

  ‘Hello, darling, fashionably late as ever.’ Julia blew a kiss across the table to her younger daughter.

  ‘I try.’ Jess shot back her response.

  ‘Whereabouts are you staying?’ Patrick took his seat again.

  ‘Just across the river. It’s called the Mellini.’ Jess’s seat scraped noisily across the floor as she moved it away from Patrick. She wasn’t quite ready to be in such close proximity.

  ‘It’s just what we needed. Close to the centre and, to be honest, all we could get at such short notice.’ Annie sounded a little too breezy. She was a hopeless liar.

  ‘It’s funny, we were meant to be staying in the most beautiful art deco hotel up at the other end of town, near where we met earlier. But a huge crack had appeared in the wall at the top of the building and ran all the way down to the bottom, apparently. And they were having to shut the whole hotel. Patrick, do you want to fill the girls’ glasses up?’

  Patrick reached for the carafe of white on the table but before he could get to it a waiter appeared and filled the glasses with a flourish.

  ‘My goodness! What are the chances of that happening?’ Jess caught her sister’s eye. ‘Probably a sinkhole.’

  ‘That’s what Patrick thought, too. Luckily he knew about a small guesthouse over in the… what’s it called, Patrick?’

  ‘Just by the Piazza di Santa Maria, in Trastevere. I used to stay there from time to time. Luckily, they remembered me and squeezed us in at the last minute.’

  Oh my God, they’re sharing a room, thought Annie.

  ‘Oh, Annie, take that look off your face. We’re not sharing a room, for heaven’s sake.’ Julia grinned and took a sip of her wine.

  ‘I didn’t say you were!’ Annie raised her eyebrows in indignation.

  ‘You didn’t have to, darling.’ Julia winked at her.

  ‘So, Patrick, tell us about the ashes. I mean, can you just take them on a plane?’ Jess reached for her glass of wine.

  ‘Well, turns out you can do just that. As long as whatever you carry them in can be inspected easily, I guess they want to be able to make sure it really is a pile of ash and not a stash of anything else.’

  ‘How funny, I just assumed it would be more difficult to take, you know, a dead person on a plane.’

  ‘Jess, darling, do you have to be quite so… blunt?’

  ‘Mum, I’m just saying. I’m surprised it’s so easy.’

  ‘Well, you need a death certificate, or at least a copy of one. But apart from that, it was fairly straightforward. They didn’t even check the urn.’ Patrick passed a couple of menus to Jess and Annie.

  ‘It wasn’t even an urn really. They’re in a flask,’ said Julia. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to look at a Thermos flask in quite the same way again.

  ‘Was your friend… forgive me, I’ve forgotten his name…’ Annie looked apologetically at Patrick.

  ‘Richard,’ said Patrick.

  ‘Yes, Richard… was he fond of Rome?’

  ‘It was his favourite city in the world. So when I asked him if there was anything I could do to help, you know, at the end, he said yes, there was actually. His wife had died years ago, no children. He really was on his own. And so he asked me to take him to Rome one last time. Or rather, his ashes. And he adored your mother. In fact, it was Richard who suggested I get back in touch with her.’ Patrick looked across at Julia.

  The sisters glanced at each other briefly.

  Jess turned back to Patrick. ‘And what are you going to do with the ashes?’

  ‘Well,’ Julia removed an olive stone from her mouth, ‘we thought somewhere with a view over the city might be best so we’re going to head up the Aventine Hill early tomorrow morning. Before the crowds get there. We went yesterday – so beautiful. Girls, you really should try and see it before you go. When are you here until?’

  ‘Trying to get rid of us?’ Jess teased her mother.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum. We’re off tomorrow afternoon; it’s a late afternoon flight. I think James might leave me if I stay any longer.’

  ‘Oh, Annie, of course he wouldn’t.’ Julia turned to Patrick. ‘You’d love Annie’s husband, James. He’s a wonderful man. Annie’s very lucky.’

  Annie bristled at being told she was lucky. It wasn’t the first time, by any means. She swallowed her words and instead took a large gulp of wine, the coolness flooding her mouth. ‘God, that’s delicious. What is it?’

  ‘House white. I think it said it was from Sicily.’ Patrick turned the menu over, looking for the wine list.

  ‘Tastes like peaches,’ said Jess before taking another sip.

  ‘Right, what are we eating?’ Julia passed a menu to Patrick.

  ‘Good, I’m starving. Lunch seems like a lifetime ago. How about we share the gran misto di antipasti – it’s got a bit of everything. Tuna carpaccio…’ said Jess, turning the menu over.

  ‘Let’s get that and a plate of oysters, then.’ Annie looked up to catch the eye of one of the waiters whizzing past the table.

  ‘Lovely. As long as I can have a plate of lobster spaghetti afterwards, I’m happy.’

  ‘You can, Jess, as long as you don’t mind paying a small fortune for it.’ Her mother still hadn’t got over the prices.

  ‘No, I don’t, as it happens. In fact, this is on me.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, darling.’ Julia put a hand on Jess’s arm.

  ‘I’m not being silly, Mum. I want to. I suggested this place. So I’ll pick up the bill.’ Jess sounded firm. Julia telling her what she should and shouldn’t spend her money on really annoyed her.

  ‘So, um, Mum, Patrick, tell us a bit more about how you two met. Oh, hang on, there’s the waiter. Let’s order.’ With food – and more wine – on the way, Annie prompted Patrick once more. ‘So, go on. Where were you?’

  ‘Well, we met on holiday in Cornwall – both our parents used to take us there on holiday as children – and we must have been about, what, ten?’ Patrick looked at Julia.

  She nodded. ‘Yes, about that. It was a small village and all the kids used to meet at the bridge when t
he tide was high, to go crabbing. We met up every summer after that, until I was sixteen.’

  ‘What happened after that?’ Annie thought of the photograph, remembering the look in her mother’s eyes.

  ‘Oh, well, you know. We were young. Patrick was at university, then got a job. It was miles away from where I was going to be…’ Julia tailed off.

  ‘But I always thought of your mother, wondered how she was.’ Patrick picked at a piece of bread. ‘How… um, well, it’s just so good to be here with her and to meet you both, of course.’ He looked first at Annie, then Jess.

  Nothing was ever that simple, thought Annie. Their connection was clearly so strong, even after all these years.

  ‘Patrick was such a big part of my life, even if I was young and it was so long ago. People who are important to you, and you to them, remain so no matter where you end up or who you end up with.’ Julia squeezed Patrick’s hand.

  ‘So are you going to get married again?’ The words were out of Jess’s mouth before she could stop them.

  ‘Jess!’ Annie stared at her sister across the table, open-mouthed.

  ‘Not that I know of.’ Patrick laughed awkwardly.

  Julia glared at her daughter. ‘Jess, there was no need for that.’

  ‘Well, I’d just quite like to know this time. You know, rather than find out after the fact. I mean, at least with us here you’ve got a couple of bridesmaids to hand if you need them. Won’t have to ask the taxi driver this time.’

  ‘That’s enough, Jess.’ Julia’s voice was hard now.

  ‘Jess, stop it,’ Annie pleaded with her sister. She could see this was not going to end well.

  ‘Oh, come on Annie. It’s not just me that’s fed up with Mum doing exactly as she wants.’

  ‘Jess, I said that’s enough. I’m sorry, Patrick.’ Julia glared at Jess.

  ‘I’ll just…’ Patrick went to stand up.

  ‘No, please don’t move. You need to hear this.’ Jess topped up her glass. ‘Clearly I disappoint her. I’m always late. I spend too much money. And the thing that really annoys her, being the serial marrying kind, is that I didn’t marry the one she wanted me to marry.’