“So, what did you think? Wasn’t it awesome?” Rachel said, gazing at Rose.
Normally, Rose hated when people asked your opinion and then gave you the answer they wanted all in the same breath, but the dance class had left her feeling so mellow she couldn’t summon the energy to be pissed off.
“Yeah, it was all right,” she said, pulling her woolly hat down against the cold breeze. The truth was, the class had ended up being way more than all right. Harmony had worked some kind of hocus pocus dance magic and helped her get really clear on what she needed to do.
“Isn’t it, like, amazing how freeing it is to just lose yourself in the music?” Rachel mused. “Shall we go get a green juice?”
Although Rose would have much preferred a hot chocolate, she nodded and followed Rachel into a hipster health-food joint named The Raw Deal. The whole place had been constructed from bleached wood, from the rows of bench-style tables to the beams running across the ceiling and the scuffed floorboards.
“What would you like?” Rachel asked, gesturing at a huge blackboard on the wall behind the counter.
Rose cringed as she read the names of the juices: Enlightenment, Peace, Tranquillity, Zen. “I’ll have a Namaste,” she said hesitantly.
“Cool choice!” Rachel exclaimed.
After they’d got their juices they slipped into one of the booths at the back.
“I guess your mom must live off green juice to keep that amazing figure of hers,” Rachel said, before taking a sip of her Inner Child.
Rose fought the urge to snort with laughter. The last meal she’d seen Savannah having was half a pack of Marlboro Reds and a glass of champagne – and that had been for breakfast. Savannah had come off the wagon big time since she and Liam had split up. It was yet another reason Rose wished they were still together – the main reason being that she’d still be living with Sky. It was so weird to think how much she’d hated Sky’s guts when she first moved in. Now she missed her like crazy.
“Yeah, sometimes,” she muttered, before taking a gulp of her own drink and almost gagging. It was gross. Like toothpaste mixed with pond water.
“It must be so much fun having her as a mom,” Rachel continued.
Rose sighed. Why all the questions about her mom all of a sudden? “Yeah, it is,” she said defensively, although fun was one of the last adjectives she’d have picked to describe her life with Savannah.
“She’s so beautiful.” Rachel sighed.
And then Rose got it. Rachel was insecure. And who wouldn’t be, hooking up with the ex-husband of one of the world’s most beautiful women (according to the likes of Vogue, anyways)? When Rose’s dad had left them for Rachel, Rose had been furious. And she couldn’t figure out why he’d rather be with someone so vacuous. But, having stayed with them for the past week, she’d begun to work it out. Rachel was much more low maintenance than Savannah – an adoring fan-girl who hung on Jason’s every word. And although she hated to admit it, Rose could see that he was happier with Rachel – and way calmer.
Rose felt jealousy nipping at her insides but she ignored it and leaned across the table. “A very wise person once said that no object is so beautiful that, under certain circumstances, it will not look ugly.”
Rachel blinked her huge eyes slowly. “Wow, that’s really profound. Oprah, right?”
Rose frowned. “What?”
“The person who said that. Was it Oprah Winfrey?”
Rose shook her head. “No. Oscar Wilde.”
“Far out.” Rachel took another sip of her juice. “Is he, like, a fashion designer?”
“No. He’s, like, dead. He was a really famous writer, back in Victorian times.”
“Oh!” Rachel gazed into space.
Rose tried to imagine how her dad ever managed to have an interesting conversation with Rachel. And then something occurred to her. People seemed to have relationships for several reasons. There were the people who chose their partners because they wanted an easy life. They picked people who would say and do anything to please them, like her dad had picked Rachel, or they picked people who fitted in with what was expected of them, like Rose had picked Matt before. But then there were the people who chose the third, dangerous option. The people who followed their hearts, who chased love with the bravery of a tiger – even if it meant shocking or disappointing others. People like Oscar Wilde, who had gone to jail for love. People like Rose.
* * *
Amber looked at her pocket watch. She’d been sitting in front of her blank screen for one hour, forty-eight minutes – a new personal best. She decided to check the spam folder in her email to break up the monotony. Among the usual “lottery wins” she spotted a comment notification from her Wilde at Heart blog – probably someone else asking when she was going to post again – and an email from … her heart almost stopped beating … from the Happy Families Surrogacy Agency. Finally, she had a reply! Gerald and Daniel had given her the agency details when she’d told them she wanted to try to contact her surrogate mum. They’d warned Amber not to get her hopes up, that her surrogate mum might not want to be contacted. And when Amber hadn’t heard anything back she’d assumed they were right, but now… She looked at the unopened email. It had been sent three days ago. Three days ago! There’d been an email about her birth mother on her computer for three whole days and she’d been completely unaware! Her skin prickled with goosebumps. What if it was a message from her mum? There’d been something about the sadness Gerald had captured in his sketch of her that had lodged in Amber’s mind. Was she sad because she regretted having a baby for money? Had she wished she could keep Amber, having carried her for nine months? It was questions like these that had given Amber the confidence to email the agency to see if they would forward a message. She’d spent days crafting the email, making sure it was just the right balance of reaching out without appearing needy. It was the last piece of writing she’d done that she felt proud of. She took a deep breath and clicked the email open.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Date: 21st December 17:30
Subject: Your recent enquiry
Dear Amber,
Thank you very much for your recent enquiry.
Unfortunately, your surrogate mother has stipulated that she does not wish to be contacted. I’m afraid this is most often the case with surrogacy.
I do hope you understand and I’m so sorry not to be able to help you further.
Warm regards,
Maria Holland
Administration Officer
Happy Families Surrogacy Agency
Amber felt a bitter blend of hurt and disappointment building at the back of her throat. She hadn’t realized until now how badly she’d wanted to hear from her mother. She hadn’t realized how strongly she’d believed she would hear. She didn’t know how to process this latest development. There was a knock on her door and she slammed her laptop shut.
“Can I come in?” Daniel called.
“Yes.” Amber sat up straight and tried to compose herself.
Daniel was wearing a Santa hat, Rudolph the Reindeer jumper and dark jeans. With his short golden hair and beard he looked like a really handsome Father Christmas. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he said with a grin. “Gerald isn’t happy with how the rice turned out, though – he thinks it’s too sticky. It’s actually fine. But I just wanted to warn you. You know how temperamental he gets when he’s chef-ing.”
“OK.” Amber tried to act normal but she felt really disorientated – all she could think of was the email; the words “unfortunately” and “sorry” stinging like nettles.
“Are you all right, honey?” Daniel sat down on the edge of the bed. He might not be her biological dad but he could still read her better than anyone, able to detect the slightest change in her mood without her saying a thing. Normally she loved this, as it made it so much easier to talk to him about stuff, but not tonight. She couldn’t bear the thought o
f having to tell him what had happened. Speaking those words out loud would make them real. She wasn’t ready for that yet.
“I’m fine,” she said, getting to her feet and forcing a smile. “Come on then, let’s get Christmas started.”
Down in the kitchen Gerald was standing hands on hips, red-faced and frowning at the oven. “It’s a total disaster!” he declared as Amber and Daniel came into the room. “Christmas is ruined!”
“Calm down, darling.” Daniel gave Gerald a hug, raising his eyebrows at Amber over his shoulder.
Ever since she’d found out that Gerald was her biological dad and they’d started getting along better, Amber had found his theatrics amusing, but tonight she couldn’t find anything remotely funny. All she felt was a growing anger. Although she wasn’t a head-in-the-clouds romantic like Maali, she’d been excited at the prospect of finding out about her mother, and hopeful at what she might discover. The email from the surrogacy agency was like having a door slammed in her face.
Amber sat down at the table. Gerald had laid it with their fanciest cutlery and each place setting had a napkin intricately folded into the shape of a flower. But they could have been eating from paper plates with plastic knives and forks for all Amber cared. How could her mother not want to know her? Amber was her flesh and blood. Made from one of her eggs. How could she not feel any curiosity about who her daughter had become? Normally Amber liked the questions that frequently filled her mind but these felt like an enemy invasion; all they brought was more hurt. Daniel sat down next to her and Gerald brought them two plates piled high with paella.
“Disaster is served!” he said, plonking the plates down in front of them.
“It looks lovely,” Daniel said.
“Yes,” Amber muttered. “Anyway, I like rice sticky.”
“I told you it was too sticky!” Gerald exclaimed to Daniel. “She didn’t even taste it. She could tell just by looking at it!”
“No – I – he…” Amber looked at Daniel helplessly. She didn’t want to get him into trouble.
“He what?” Gerald glared down at them both.
“My surrogate mum doesn’t want to know me!” The words burst from Amber’s mouth, seemingly of their own accord.
The room fell silent. Daniel and Gerald looked at each other.
Amber looked into her lap. “I got a reply from the agency,” she muttered. “Apparently she stipulated that she doesn’t want any contact with me. So that’s that.” She picked up a forkful of paella. “Happy Christmas.”
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected]
Date: 25th December 10:30
Subject: Happy Christmas! I miss you guys so bad!
Greetings from NYC, my fellow Moonlight Dreamers!
OMG I miss you guys SO BAD! Life back in my beloved home city hasn’t been nearly as much fun as I’d hoped. Mainly because my dumbass father is obsessing over his next movie role and his doe-eyed girlfriend is about as frustrating as watching coffee percolate. Please tell me your news before I shrivel up and die from boredom. The good news is, I’ll be home real soon – and in time for our meeting on New Year’s Eve. I changed my flight – yay! I cannot wait to see you all again. I hope you’re having an awesome Christmas Day. I’m spending it with my dad and the sappy Rachel. We’re having raw courgette noodles with avocado salsa for dinner (!!!) and raw brownies made with beetroot (!!!) for dessert. Rachel is a surfer babe from California. She doesn’t do anything without first consulting her Angel cards and she says “like”, like, every second word. Amber, you would HATE her. Oh, Amber, how I miss your dry sense of humour and your serious face. Please can you send me a selfie of you frowning for me to use as a screensaver? And, Maali, can you pray to that goddess chick of yours that I make it home without totally losing my mind? And, Sky, please could you write me one of your awesome poems about the evils of step-moms? I don’t mind if you use my mom as inspiration – even though her role as your step-mom was sadly short-lived. Oh shoot, my dad’s calling me – my raw dinner must be un-cooked.
Love you guys so much!
Rose xoxo
PS: There’s something I need to tell you all and I’m afraid I might chicken out when I see you so I’m letting you know ahead of time, so you can force me to spill. Sky, you have my full permission to chant your hippy mantras in my face until I crack
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected]
Date: 25th December 11:05
Subject: Re: Happy Christmas! I miss you guys so bad!
Dear Rose – and fellow Moonlight Dreamers,
It was so lovely to hear from you and I will add you to my prayer list. All is OK here – at least I think it is. My dad’s been very tired, which isn’t like him at all, so I’ve been a bit worried about him. I can’t wait to see you on New Year’s Eve – I can’t think of a better way to start a fresh new year. I hope you’ve all got some really cool new dreams to share.
Lots of love,
Maali xxxx
PS: Rose, the important thing you’ve got to tell us better not be that you’re moving back to America!
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected]
Date: 25th December 11:22
Subject: Re: Re: Happy Christmas! I miss you guys so bad!
Dear Moonlight Dreamers,
I really miss you all too. Things have been tough here. I just had some bad news. This quote from my beloved Oscar sums it up: “When the gods wish to punish us they answer our prayers.” I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. I hope the rest of your stay in New York goes well, Rose. Did you mean it about the photo? I can never tell when you’re joking! My Christmas Day is going to consist of dinner COOKED by Daniel – sorry to rub it in, Rose! And then, after Gerald makes us watch the Queen’s speech, we’ll have our annual family Scrabble contest (we only play it once a year because Gerald takes it SO seriously and sulks for ever if he loses). Sorry to hear about your dad, Maali – I hope he feels better soon.
Love,
Amber
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]; [email protected]; [email protected]
Date: 25th December 19:27
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Happy Christmas! I miss you guys so bad!
Dearest Dreamers!
I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you – the retreat I’m staying in barely has any internet reception. You wouldn’t believe the lengths I’ve gone to just to get the slightest signal on my phone – I practically had to climb onto the roof! Sorry you’ve had some bad news, Amber. Hope you’re OK? And hope your dad’s OK too, Maali. Rose, I feel your pain. My Christmas dinner consisted of a nut roast, which should really have been renamed a nut sog, and just about every vegetable that has ever existed. It’s been OK being here, though, as my dad’s been a lot happier. I think he’s been enjoying being the yoga student for once instead of the teacher. Rose, I wrote you a step-mum haiku. (I’ve done so much meditation over the past few days my brain’s gone to sleep and it’s all I could manage!)
STEP-MUM HAIKU
Always a step off,
never able to replace
the one we love most.
Chapter Three
Rose stared across the table at her dad as he did a set of press-ups on the dining-room floor. His head was freshly shaven and he was wearing sweats and a vest top – all part of his preparation for the role of a down-and-out boxer from the Bronx. Only he would be anal enough to insist on staying in character on Christmas freakin’ Day.
“Seriously?” Rose glared at him. “Can I please just spend Christmas Day with my dad instead of Rocky Balboa?”
Jason frowned and got to his feet. “My role is not a reprisal of Rocky Balboa,” he said in a thick New York d
rawl. “Donny Delaney is a complex, multifaceted character with a very troubled past. Yo, Rachel,” he yelled, “where’s the dinner?”
Rose sighed. How did Rachel put up with this bullshit twenty-four seven? But Rachel came bounding into the room, wearing a grin as wide as San Francisco Bay. “Here you go, hon,” she trilled, placing two serving dishes in the middle of the table. One was full of courgette noodles garnished with fresh basil. The other contained some kind of avocado-based mush. Rose had never seen so much green food. It made her want to run to the nearest burger joint and stuff her face full of warm, greasy meat.
She turned to Rachel. “Doesn’t it annoy you when Dad’s in character all the time?”
Rachel continued smiling sweetly and shook her head. “No, not at all.” She looked at Jason and blushed. “I guess it’s the price you pay for living with one of the world’s greatest actors.”
Oh purlease! Rose’s gagging reflex had never seen so much action since she’d got to New York.
Jason reached across the table and took hold of Rose’s hand. “Don’t be angry. You know the sacrifices us thespians have to make for our craft.” Finally he was talking in his normal British accent – even if what he was saying was utter garbage.
“Yeah, and what about the sacrifices your families have to make?”
Jason’s eyes widened in shock. He genuinely didn’t seem to get how selfish he could be. He glanced around the luxury apartment. “Hmm, some sacrifice,” he muttered.
Rose thought about telling him a few home truths. But she stuffed her anger back down. What was the point? He was as wrapped up in his life as her mom was in hers. Rose could shout and scream all she liked but it wouldn’t make a difference. It was time for her to make something of her own life. She had to give up on her parents being in any way remotely normal. They came from Planet Celebrity – a place fuelled by green juice and social media mentions, where self-obsession reigned.
Tell It to the Moon Page 2
