Learning to Dance Again

by Frankie Valente

  ‘Yes of course, darling.’

  Marianne handed mugs of coffee to Liam and Julia.

  ‘I’d better head home soon and leave you all in peace; I expect you have lots to talk about,’ Marianne said, as she poured herself a coffee.

  ‘Really?’ Liam said, ‘are you sure you’re fit to drive home, there’s a powerful reek of whisky coming from your direction?’ He smiled at her, but it was obvious he wasn’t impressed.

  ‘Well, maybe not. I’ll stay here a little while longer then. I’ll make us all some breakfast and wait until the coast is clear of policemen; then I’ll get off.’

  ‘I can give you a lift if you want,’ Liam said, smiling at her, and acknowledging he knew she was teasing him.

  ‘Stay, both of you. Stay for breakfast. You’re both family,’ Julia said. ‘There’s no need to rush off.’

  ‘OK then. I’ll ring St Ninian’s and tell them I’m taking the morning off; actually I think I’ll take the whole day off.’

  ‘Well you’re the boss now!’ Julia said, nodding in approval.

  When Jamie and Bryden came downstairs, wearing clean clothes and looking and smelling much fresher, Marianne slipped upstairs to take a shower. When she came down again she found Julia sitting on the sofa between her sons, holding hands. Liam was sat at the kitchen table looking a bit lost.

  ‘Ah great Liam, you can help me make breakfast for everyone,’ Marianne said.

  He jumped up quickly, eager to have a useful role.

  ‘You know the best breakfast I ever had was in a New York diner. It was mad; they eat pancakes with bacon and maple syrup. It sounds disgusting doesn’t it? But it was brilliant.’

  Marianne nodded thoughtfully.

  ‘You know, I quite fancy the sound of that. Let’s see what there is in the cupboards.’

  In the end they settled for French toast, bacon, mushrooms, and tomatoes.

  Liam set the table and made a large pot of tea and poured out glasses of orange juice.

  ‘This is weird isn’t it?’ he whispered to Marianne, ‘like anyone’s got any appetite for food.’

  ‘What else can we do to help? And they need looking after right now. They’ve been through such a lot this year. I can’t believe this has happened.’

  ‘Me neither. Duncan was so…’ Liam paused, unable to find the right words. He shrugged in defeat.

  ‘Yeah he was! He was a great man. We’ll all miss him.’ Marianne said, as she switched off the grill, and took out the pan of bacon and tomatoes.

  ‘Shall I tell them it’s ready?’

  ‘Yeah, go on, thanks Liam.’

  The conversation around the table was stilted as Marianne handed everyone plates of food. Julia looked dazed and she got up from the table and went in search of painkillers to take with her orange juice. Jamie asked for some too and then offered the packet to Bryden who shook his head as if the idea revolted him.

  ‘Am I the only person who didn’t get hammered last night?’ Liam asked, as he watched Jamie almost choke as he swallowed the tablets.

  ‘Seems that way,’ Bryden said, looking at his mother and smiling grimly. ‘What would Dad have thought about that?’

  ‘We all spent most of the night talking about him. He’d have understood.’

  ‘So what happens now?’ Bryden asked, as he toyed with a mushroom on the end of his fork and then abandoned it. He put his cutlery down and pushed the plate away.

  ‘We need to organise the funeral, but we won’t be able to sort out a date for it until after the post-mortem.’

  ‘Does everyone know already?’ Bryden asked.

  ‘Probably; you know how fast news travels here. I’m sure it’s all over Facebook already,’ Jamie said bitterly, ‘so when you read about it, make sure you “like” this.’

  Julia stood up suddenly and picked up her plate and carried it to the kitchen. She scraped the uneaten French toast into the bin and put the plate next to the sink.

  ‘Thanks Marianne, but I’m just not very hungry right now.’

  ‘That’s OK; you managed a little bit.’

  The phone rang and Julia froze. Nobody moved to answer it.

  ‘And so it begins,’ Jamie said, standing up at last and striding across the kitchen to get to the phone.

  Julia watched him, marvelling at how quickly he had assumed the role of man of the house.

  ‘Hello? It’s Jamie… No she can’t come to the phone right now. Can you call back, maybe tomorrow?... Yeah, thanks.’

  He put the phone down.

  ‘That was Mrs Leask, wanting to convey her condolences. So yeah, we can safely assume everybody knows now.’

  ‘Don’t be like that Jamie; it was nice of her to call. Why don’t you boys go off to the garage and play snooker or something?’

  ‘Because we’re not twelve years old; and we don’t need to be sent out to play.’

  Julia recoiled, as if he had slapped her. She turned away from him and stared out of the window, blinking back tears.

  ‘You might not be twelve, but you’re still an idiot,’ Bryden said, getting up from the table and going over to Julia. He put his arm around her shoulders. ‘I’m sorry Mam, he didn’t mean it. We’re just pissed off.’

  ‘I know. It’s alright; I’m sure we’re all going to say stupid things over the next few days.’

  ‘Come on, we should go and play snooker. That’s a good idea; we can catch up,’ Liam said, standing up and signalling to Jamie to follow him.

  ‘No whacky baccy!’ Julia said, with an exaggerated stern voice. ‘I know where you hide it.’

  ‘What? I’m nearly a doctor, he’s a policeman and the idiot over there is going to be a respectable maths teacher. We wouldn’t dream of doing stuff like that.’ Jamie grinned at his mother in an effort to smooth things over between them.

  Julia snorted. ‘Yeah right! I know you all far too well.’

  ‘They don’t really smoke do they?’ Marianne asked, after they had gone.

  ‘Not any more they don’t. Duncan read them the riot act when he discovered their little stash. Silly little idiots; all three of them could have ruined their careers if they got caught.’

  ‘Boys will be boys, eh? Well, they’re all men now aren’t they? Hard to believe isn’t it; seems like only yesterday they were in primary school skinning their knees playing football in the playground. It’s frightening how quick time passes. Right now my first grandchild is about the size of a walnut, but he or she will be an adult in the blink of an eye.’

  ‘Yes indeed. We need to hold on to the good times.’

  ‘We have had some good times, haven’t we?’

  Julia nodded, but before she could reply the phone rang.

  ‘Shall I?’ Marianne said.

  ‘Please! I really don’t want to speak to anyone else right now.’

  Marianne picked up the phone while Julia walked to the front door and opened it. Julia stepped out onto the decking, and made her way to the bench in front of the house. It was sunny, but the early morning sun hadn’t warmed the air yet, and she shivered as the cool breeze penetrated her thin shirt. She thought about the last conversation she had had with Duncan, and his desire to go to Sicily. She wished she could be there right now with him, sitting in the morning sun together, planning a day of exploration. She looked at her watch; this time yesterday Duncan had still been alive and had not long left for school.

  She felt her chest tighten; the raw physical pain of grief made it difficult to breathe deeply. She gripped the wooden armrest of the bench and shut her eyes.

  ‘Ah, there you are.’ Marianne said, as she walked over and sat down next to her. ‘You OK?’

  Julia nodded. ‘Just thinking.’

  ‘That was Morag. Not good news… Alice has just passed away. She was still sleeping when they went into her first thing this morning, so they didn’t wake her up for breakfast. Morag just went in to see her a few minutes ago and she had gone. I’m sorry Julia. Really, this is all too much for you
.’

  Julia shut her eyes and covered her face with her hands and remained silent for a moment before sighing and standing up.

  ‘Do they want me to go in?’

  ‘No, don’t be silly. You’ve got enough on your plate at the moment. Plenty of time to sort things out later. ’

  ‘Poor Alice; she was all on her own.’

  ‘She was asleep! Can’t think of a better way to go myself.’

  ‘I’m glad it was today and not yesterday anyway. At least Duncan never knew. Jesus – what else is going to happen?’

  ‘Nothing! Nothing’s going to happen. Come inside, you’re freezing.’ Marianne said, taking Julia’s arm and leading her indoors.

  6

  A few weeks after the joint funeral took place for Duncan and Alice, Julia found herself alone in the house. Jamie had flown over to Barbados to do a course in diving medicine. He had rung her the previous evening from the beach, where he had been waiting for the induction to start. Julia had detected an undercurrent of excitement in his voice which he struggled to cover up. She had pleaded with him to stop feeling guilty about having a good time and made him promise to email lots of photographs.

  Bryden was back in Edinburgh, having returned to finish his exams. He had taken Duncan’s car with him, along with his father’s golf clubs. Julia had been pleased to see the back of the car, as every time she had seen the silver Ford Focus out on the drive she had been reminded of the last time she watched Duncan driving it away.

  However, this had caused something of an argument between the boys. Clearly Bryden needed a car more than Jamie did, as Bryden would be starting a new job in August, at a school seven miles away from where he currently lived. Jamie shared a large flat opposite the hospital and had no need of a car; but he was the oldest son, and that made him think he should have had the first refusal.

  Julia knew her sons were acting out of character. With only eighteen months between them in age, they were normally very close, but Duncan’s sudden death had knocked the stuffing out of them, and they had taken to bickering over silly things. They had also taken to ringing Julia every day, which was lovely; but it also made her feel as if they were doing it out of duty, rather than because they had anything they really wanted to talk about.

  Despite Julia’s misery, the summer raced by; the darkness of her mood punctuated by the light relief provided from time to time by her friends and her sons. In August Bryden started his probationary year as a maths teacher at a high school and he moved in with his new girlfriend, Anna. And although it seemed a little premature in their relationship, Julia understood his need to have someone close to him on a permanent basis.

  Her financial situation had improved a little. Her meagre savings, which had been depleted by the cost of two funerals, had been bolstered by Duncan’s life assurance and widow’s pension. She was not wealthy by any means, but she did not need to rush back to work.

  She managed to hold it together most of the time, while people were visiting, or when anyone rang her, but she was conscious she was sinking deeper and deeper into depression. Sometimes she tried to do something about it. She would cook something healthy and distract herself with a book or a film, or make a particular effort to go out for a walk. But some days she barely ate anything and didn’t move from the sofa. She didn’t always get dressed or take a shower. She couldn’t remember the last time she had put on make-up or perfume or tried to look presentable. Her hair had grown longer, but it was greyer and what remained of her blonde highlights was parched and frizzy.

  On a dreary day in mid-September Julia was lying on the sofa in the middle of the afternoon wearing pyjamas and one of Duncan’s sweatshirts when the front door opened. Marianne walked in followed by a young woman Julia didn’t recognise.

  ‘This is Vaila Anderson, she’s just finished her hairdressing training in Inverness, and she’s come along to do your hair.’ Marianne said brusquely to Julia, inviting no argument.

  ‘I don’t need my hair doing; it’s fine as it is.’ Julia said, not moving from the sofa. She didn’t smile, or do anything to welcome her visitors.

  ‘It looks like a bale of hay from where I’m standing.’

  ‘So what; it’s not like I’m going anywhere.’

  ‘Maybe not. But it might make you feel a bit better.’

  ‘How?’ Julia replied sharply. ‘How is getting my hair done going to make everything all tickety boo again?’ She sat up sharply and hugged a cushion to her stomach, as if she was in pain.

  ‘Well, maybe it will just make me feel better. Come on, please let Vaila do your hair. She’s really good. She’s just started her own mobile business.’

  Julia frowned at Vaila, who stood behind Marianne looking as if she wished the ground would swallow her up. Julia remembered her manners at last.

  ‘OK then. But can I at least go up and have a shower first.’

  ‘Um, actually, your hair needs to be dry to do the colour. Maybe you could have a shower afterwards.’ Vaila said, as she unzipped a large canvas holdall.

  ‘I’ll just take this sweatshirt off then. I don’t want anything to spill on it. It was my husband’s.’

  ‘And I’ll go and put the kettle on and make us some tea.’ Marianne said, barely disguising the triumph in her voice.

  Vaila invited Julia to sit at a chair in the kitchen. She took out a long black gown from her bag and fastened it around Julia’s shoulders. She started to comb through Julia’s hair which took some effort as it was tangled and uncooperative. All the while Marianne and Vaila kept up a bright commentary on local gossip, and cheerful banter. Julia listened, but did not make any attempt to join in.

  ‘How do you normally style your hair?’ Vaila asked Julia.

  Julia squinted into the stand-up mirror Vaila had placed in front of her on the table.

  ‘She normally has a lovely neat little bob; quite short.’ Marianne replied, seeing as Julia seemed to have lost the use of her tongue.

  ‘Oh, I was just thinking this long length was quite flattering. It really just needs the ends trimming and the colour doing, and perhaps some conditioning. It’s a bit dry.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right, it would look nice longer. What do you think Jules?’

  Julia shrugged.

  ‘I’ll just keep it long then shall I?’ Vaila said, looking to both Marianne and Julia for approval.

  Julia nodded, although she really could not care less.

  Two hours later, after Vaila had transformed her hair, Julia went upstairs to change, and came down a few minutes later wearing jeans and a pink tee shirt, looking self-conscious.

  ‘You look lovely now,’ Marianne said warmly, ‘but my God you’ve lost some weight.’

  ‘I always wanted to; but maybe not like this.’ Julia lifted up the hem of her tee shirt and revealed the waistband of her jeans that were now two sizes too big.

  ‘No; it’s too much, you need to eat more; you’re looking scrawny. We can’t get away with it at our age, it’s much too aging.’

  Vaila had packed away her hairdressing equipment, but she had pulled out a plastic box full of nail polishes and set them down on the kitchen table.

  ‘If you like, I can give you both a manicure.’

  ‘Ooh super! My nails are a disgrace.’ Marianne said enthusiastically, waggling her hands out to Vaila. ‘Me first!’

  Julia put the kettle on again and opened a packet of biscuits.

  ‘No biscuits for me please,’ Marianne said, ‘I’m taking you out for something to eat after this.’

  ‘Oh no; I couldn’t. I don’t feel up to going out.’

  ‘I know you don’t. But you must; it’s my birthday and I insist.’

  Julia dropped the packet of biscuits onto the worktop and spun round quickly.

  ‘Oh shit; already? I didn’t realise what day it was today. I’m so sorry.’

  ‘So you should be. I’m fifty today; and I intend to celebrate.’

  ‘But where are we going? You’re
not having a party are you?’

  ‘Not tonight. But we might have a little party on Saturday night. I’m not going to insist you come to that, although you’d be very welcome. But you’re coming out with us tonight missy. We have celebrated nearly every birthday together since we were six years old.’

  Julia smiled for the first time in ages and sat down at the table next to Marianne, and hugged her.

  ‘Yes we have.’

  ‘So, we’ll get our nails done and you can find something in your wardrobe that hangs a bit better on you than those jeans; and then we are going out. You can stay at our house, so you don’t need to worry about drinking and driving. We’ll get a taxi into town and go for an Indian shall we?’

  ‘That is the tradition!’

  ‘Since you were both six?’ Vaila said, as she took Marianne’s hand to start on her manicure.

  ‘Well, we’ve only been going out for an Indian for the last fifteen years, but yeah, since we were six,’ Julia replied, smiling at the memories.

  Julia enjoyed her evening out at the Indian restaurant celebrating Marianne’s birthday, and she enjoyed sitting up late with Marianne and Brian in their lounge after their teenage daughters had gone to bed. With her closest friends and a comforting dram of whisky she felt relaxed, and if not quite happy, then at least not desperately sad. Julia allowed herself to be talked into going to Marianne’s birthday party on Saturday night.

  7

  Marianne’s house was filled with lots of her friends and family. There was food, drink, music and laughter. Julia knew everyone at the party and quite a few of them were from their year at school, so they were swapping “war-stories” about turning fifty. Julia’s own fiftieth birthday was just a few weeks away in October, and as the evening progressed she started to dread its arrival and knew she would not wish to celebrate it. She was happy for Marianne to be surrounded by all of her closest friends and family, but she had to fight hard to bury the bitterness she felt about her own life.