by Laura Kemp
Murphy’s son. The sight of him, a mini Murphy, in waistcoat and shorts, it was enough to bring her to her senses. Because this was real - this was where she was at, not in the past where she'd lived a fantasy with Jez, but right now. With Murphy, she'd had something solid: tarnished, chipped and worn, yes, but wondrous for its flaws and character. Gulping at what she was losing but grateful she’d at least tasted it, she flung an arm around Kate. And then Vee felt a vibration in her clutch bag. Tutting at the timing, she covered her friend in kisses.
The buzz again. Who on earth…Kate had noticed it too: she raised her eyebrows to say Vee had time to see who it was.
Quickly, ready to silence it, she opened her bag and saw it was him. Murphy was calling.
Vee panicked. What was she supposed to do?
‘You okay?’ Kate said. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
That was one way of putting her vision of Jez.
‘Murphy’s ringing…’
‘Oh God, no way. Answer it, go on. I’ll wait for you.’ There was no hesitation from Kate.
‘No! It’s your wedding day!’
‘Look, I’ve got ten minutes to spare. Please. It’s important.’
Vee shut her eyes, bit her lip and made a quick prayer. And then she swiped her phone. Just as he rang off. Disappointment, despair and fear rushed through her: what had he been going to say?
‘Phone him back!’ Kate waved her bouquet of sunflowers at her.
‘What if it’s bad news though? What if he’s leaving, going to America, and that’s that? Or he’s going to stay in Cardiff when I go to London? It’s going to ruin today. No. No way…’ She looked mournfully at the screen and was about to put it away when there was a third buzz. ‘Oh no, he’s left a voicemail.’
Kate grabbed her arm. ‘Vee, you need to know.’
‘But it’s your day.’
‘Listen, everyone can wait. I’ll stay with you for as long as you need. Dad, go and tell Pierre that I’m here but just having a few moments with my best friend.’
He took Griff with him, leaving the two of them on the pavement.
‘I was going to turn my phone off. I wish I’d turned my phone off. Why didn’t I? Then I’d be unaware and we could just go in and celebrate you and Jack.’
‘Well, you didn’t and you aren’t and we will.’
Kate was looking at her pleadingly.
‘No. I can’t. Come on, let’s get you married.’ Vee began to pull Kate towards the bandstand and the now emerald sea, wanting to blank out the thoughts running wildly around her head. But Kate was resisting.
‘Vee, if it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t be here now doing this, my way, with my son. You gave me everything. It’s time you let me give something back.’
A rift formed in Vee’s defences as the words caressed her heart.
‘Don’t be afraid,’ Kate said, reading Vee’s mind. She looked up at her: their bond was evergreen. Despite everything. ‘I was scared. But you showed me the truth is beautiful. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.’
Vee was nearly there, holding the phone, weighing it up. Then it came to her. ‘It’s his birthday,’ she gasped, ‘I completely forgot. He’s the unlikeliest summer baby. He should’ve been born in the dead of winter. His birthday. Shit.’
‘Okay… so…?’ Kate didn’t get this bit.
‘We made a pact, the night before you and me went away. If we were still single by the time we were thirty then we’d get together.’
Kate put a hand to her mouth. ‘He’s thirty today! Vee! Do you think he’s going to…’
Vee didn’t know what to think.
‘You won’t be able to concentrate if you don’t listen to his message. And you’ve got a reading to do! I need you with me.’
Vee nodded then she called her voicemail.
The ringing took an age to pass. The woman droned on and on until the recording kicked in. There was a pause. She could hear his breathing, his turmoil. Kate was staring into her eyes, waiting for a sign.
‘Vee,’ he said, ‘It’s me.’ He sounded serious, contained. It wasn’t going to be good. ‘I’ve come to a decision. I can’t come with you to London. I want to help bring up my son. I’m staying in Cardiff. I didn’t want to waste any more time, we’ve wasted too much already and-.’ She ended the call. Click. That was it.
Her chin crumpled. Shaking her head at Kate, she was numb.
No tears came because she had known all along.
Kate moved towards her and put an arm around Vee’s neck, the other around her back. ‘Oh, Vee, I’m so sorry.’
‘At least I know,’ Vee said into her hair, hearing the waves and the seagulls and the traffic and life continue on without her. ‘At least I know.’
Kate's hand was there to soothe her but Vee felt cold and distant. Trying to process this even though she had expected an unhappy ending. Seconds passed in a daze until her phone went again. Murphy. Why was he pursuing her like this? It was unbearable, a sore that would never heal.
‘Take it,' Kate said, backing away to give her space. ‘Take it!’
So she did, just to get it over with.
‘Vee, did you get my message?’ he asked, with urgency. ‘Where are you?’
‘Brighton,’ she said, wooden.
‘I know that! Where exactly because I’m here, I’ve-’
‘Here?’ She swung round, her eyes searching, sweeping the hustle and bustle of heads and shoulders, moving in a complete circle, as Kate understood what was happening and joined the hunt.
‘He's come for you, Vee!’ she said, gasping. ‘I didn’t think he would…'
‘You invited him?’ Vee shrieked, dropping the phone from her ear.
‘Not as such,’ Kate said, carefully, ‘I thought about it and if it was me, I’d have been desperate to see Griff, so I said Murphy could come, not to introduce them properly, not yet, but to breathe the same air as his son…and you because...you two, you're made for each other.’ She held out the palm of her hands to show she meant no harm.
Vee looked up to the sky and blew out of her cheeks. Overwhelmed, all she could go with was her instinct: Kate hadn't been underhand. This was her final peace offering. And Vee was going to grab it with hungry fists.
‘Where are you?' she pleaded, back to the call, scanning the prom.
‘I can see you!' he said and she could tell he was smiling. And she was twirling, trying to pick him out from the masses.
‘Because I can’t live without you, Vee. Didn’t you hear the message?’
‘I did, but it was too much, losing you…’ Desperate now, needing him.
‘You didn't listen to the end, did you?’ Amused that he knew something good that she didn’t and he couldn't wait to explain. ‘I said in the message, to stay in Cardiff, to do your training there. And stay with me.’
It was all too much - his sincerity was in no doubt, it was her hearing she didn't believe.
And then she saw him: a flash of his hair, his cheekbone, his chest and her legs began to move of their own accord, taking her to him as they blindly stashed away their phones and dodged men and women and kids to be reunited.
She'd seen an apparition earlier but this was true: breaking into a run, wanting him to be hers. Vee smashed into his body and buried her face in his neck. His warmth like fire, his strength squeezing her tight, his musky smell and his lips, pushing on hers.
‘Did you mean it?’ he said, eventually, holding her face with his hands. ‘Did you mean it when you said we should get together if both of us were still single when we were thirty? Because I'm thirty now. Today.’
‘I haven't got you anything!' she wailed, realizing instantly that this wasn't the point. She was distracted by his skinny grey suit - she'd never seen him so smart or handsome - ‘I forgot with all of the wedding stuff and the rest of it and-’
‘Hmm, I can overlook that if, you know…’ His eyes were wet now, cast with a thousand diamonds by the sun.
; ‘Really?’ she said, laughing through her own tears. ‘I meant it, I did.’
‘Yeah, well,’ he sniffed, pressing his nose to hers, ‘You forced me into it, Victoria Anwen Hope, you forced me into it. I never wanted to be your back-up. I only ever wanted to be your first choice.’
‘You are!’ she yelped, ‘You always have been!’ She was surging and bursting and swirling with love and it was exploding inside of her.
‘All right, all right,' he said, shaking his head, as his hands gripped her hips and pulled her as close as he could into his body, ‘No need to go over the top, like. Anyway, are you finished because we can’t keep Kate hanging about, can we?’
Vee lifted her face to his and kissed him tenderly: it was a full stop on what had been before and a sign of what would be now. This man she'd known since a boy who would finally be hers. She felt a surge of elation and hilarity take hold of her - this was what he did to her! And she elbowed him in the ribcage, poked out her tongue and shouted ‘see you, loser!’ over her shoulder as she dashed to Kate, who was blowing kisses and waving madly at them to go, go, go.
‘Oi,’ Murphy said as his feet thundered up behind her, ‘Wait for me!’
And as she caught her breath at the edge of the bandstand and he slid his hand into hers, Vee turned to him and said, ‘For you, Michael Patrick Murphy, always.’
Two-and-a-bit years later…
Epilogue
The City
January 2017
If she just sits here quiet, she can have five minutes. A little rest before they all get here.
Still in her coat having come in from work waiting to warm up, Vee flops her head back onto the sofa and kicks off her pixie boots. Teaching is the hardest thing she’s done. Proper intense it is, all the planning and paperwork. Then there’s the kids, she thinks, feeling her stomach churn at the memory of today’s staff meeting where she’s newly qualified: a seven-year-old taken into care because her parents left her home alone to go out on the piss. It’s a rough inner-city school, it’s what happens, one of the old-timers said when he caught her sniffling beside the kettle. What can she teach them about life? They’ve had it worse than she’ll ever have. That’s what bothered her when she started there. How could she relate to the ones who haven’t got a safety net, where home is dangerous and there’s nothing in the cupboard. All she can do is be a stable person in their lives, give them boundaries, show them love. Like her parents have done for her.
Bugger. There's so much to do - empty the dishwasher, put on a wash, have a tidy up - but she’ll do it now, in a minute. The balls of her feet are throbbing, her stomach is rumbling and she needs a wee. But she can’t move. Just five minutes… her eyelids close heavily, like slammed doors, bringing a blissful blackness, and her body sinks down, down, down…
A siren screams past and she jolts awake. Checking her watch in a panic, Vee realizes with relief she hasn’t been asleep for hours, just a little while. Even so, she feels a coldness all over. She gets up quickly, staggering into the kitchen to start tea. Bread and butter, that’s what she needs, and as she sinks her teeth into a hacked hurried slice, she can feel the stress of the day stepping down. Because actually where she is now she would never ever leave. Yes, she’s knackered all the time but that’s from fulfilment and happiness. Both of which she thought she’d never really have.
A key in the door – she shoots to the hall to see their beaming faces.
‘Hiya, baby!’ she says, her son stretching his arms out, taking his gorgeous squidgyness into her arms, smelling his fluffy ginger hair, slobbering over his huge rosy cheeks, kissing both him and ‘daddy’ hello. Daddy! She can’t believe they call each other ‘mummy’ and ‘daddy’, like a pair of idiots. They swore they wouldn’t be like that but it just happened and they laugh all the time about how things were going to be: co-sleeping and baby-led weaning. They'd go with the flow. Instead, they’ve had to get a routine going, bath at 6.30 p.m., bed in his own room at 7.30 p.m. Otherwise they'd have no time for each other and that’s what Vee needs most of all: to unwind with him, to curl up in front of a series or even just to sit next to him as he makes a call to America. Their silences are punctuated by a touch here and a ‘cuppa?’ there but always they are in sync, knowing innately what the other needs whether it's a break or a chat.
‘Nursery said he’d noshed all of his organic cottage pie. The little prince, that he is,’ he says.
‘Jesus, he eats better than us.’ Vee loves their bounce: the way they ping-pong off each other. Still, after all these years.
‘They not here yet?’ he says, dropping bags everywhere.
‘No. Good job really.’
‘Nothing cooking then?’
‘Well, I’ve got as far as putting the oven on.’ She shrugs at her failure to do anything more.
‘I thought that might be the case.’ He takes a dramatic sharp intake of breath then laughs.
‘I was thinking a tofu scramble,’ Vee says, her tongue in her cheek, ‘with garlic-roasted spinach?’
‘Hmmm. Not fancy enough,’ he says, stroking an imaginary beard. ‘How about this instead?’
He reaches down and retrieves posh pizzas and a salad.
‘Legend.’
‘I’ll sort it. You take the little one for a rake in there,’ he says, nodding to the lounge. ‘Won’t be long before we have a garden.’ He says it all casual, which is typically him. Understating the wonderful.
‘Whaaat?’ Vee says, bursting at the prospect of a lawn. ‘Did you hear about the house?’
‘Exchange next week. Suburbia will be ours.’ He winks and they crease up.
‘We are so lame,’ she says.
‘The lamest.’
It’s the strangest but most incredible feeling to go back to their teenage talk when they’re grown-ups with responsibilities - like they’re travelling through time, still amazed they've made it here.
Vee bounces her son on her hip then places him on the rug, where she starts singing to him. Nursery rhymes not cool pop songs – yet. He’s only nine months old so she’s got bags of time to introduce him to all of that. He pulls himself on her hands to standing and jigs on bandy legs, cooing and then, with wide brown earnest eyes, tries to tell her something. All at once, she sees his dad’s intensity, her need to communicate and their determination - and it's been worth the wait. She gets lost when she looks at him: her genes and his mixed up to produce this amazing human being, not caring it sounds like hippy shit. The miracle of life, the greatest magic trick in the world.
‘They’ll be here in a minute!’ she says and he presses his pudgy finger up her nose. ‘You might be allowed to stay up a little bit longer if you’re good,’ she says. Their game of boo is interrupted by a buzz on the intercom - that's all it takes to make him flap his arms and wear a gummy smile.
‘It’s your brother!’ Vee says to her baby. ‘He’s come for tea!’
Dashing in, the boy, now gangly, plants a kiss on her little one’s head.
‘Jarvis,’ she says to her son, ‘Say hi to Griffy! Oh, okay, have a dribble instead.’ She wipes a bubble of goo off his chin then hugs their visitor. Her step-son, technically, but it's not like that, he's got more than enough mums: she feels more like an aunty.
Vee goes to Murphy, who’s resting on the door frame. He puts his arm round her and nuzzles into her neck, murmuring his appreciation of this scene.
‘Gross!’ Griffy says, with the unguarded disgust of a tweenager.
Murphy laughs a relaxed and easy giggle, which he does so much these days as if he’d been storing it all up for the time when he'd found his groove. Little did either of them think it’d involve nappies.
‘Want to help me bath him?’ he asks, grabbing Griffy for a cuddle.
‘Course, Murphy,’ he says. His dad accepts he isn’t Dad like Tom. One day it might happen, he really hopes so, but if it doesn’t he’s cool with that: it’s massive enough that Griffy calls Orla ‘aunty’ and his father ‘Grampy’
. Not forgetting Nanny Melanie, who’s part of the furniture now. The way his dad sees it, Mel saved his life, getting him off the booze and he’s a different person now. Near recovered and totally dry, interested in what Murphy’s up to - like a proper dad - and giving Griff the attention that he had never given him. Like at Christmas, his dad took him to the Millennium Stadium Santa, which Griff said was amazing, getting to see the dressing rooms, even if he doesn’t believe anymore. Murphy says it’s like he's the son his dad had always wanted, interested in sport but there's no bitterness; it’s given his Dad a new lease of life.
‘I’ll start running the water in a sec. Pizza after. Then a bit of PlayStation? That cool?’
‘Defo.’
The sound of panting comes from the hallway. It’s Kate. Vee can’t help but snort at the size of her.
She is huge and gorgeous, blessed with a bump the size of Wales. She conceived on a very belated honeymoon in Rome, still skint from paying for two weddings but able to grab a weekend there using Murphy’s airmiles.
‘A week late, Vee, I’m fed up of this now. I’ve tried everything, curry, walking, raspberry leaf tea…’ then she whispers, ‘well, not everything because Jack feels funny about it.’
Kate grimaces but it’s not because she’s fearful - in that way, this pregnancy has been so different to her first. She says all the time how grateful she is to have a second chance.
‘Where is Jack?’ Vee says.
‘He’s coming now. Parking in the multistorey.’
‘This, fingers crossed, will be the last time you all have to faff around with the car. We’ve got a drive at the new place!’ Vee reveals to a whoop.
‘What would our twenty-one-year-old selves make of us? How tragic we are!’ Kate says, patting her belly. She’s glowing with joy: her relationship back on track with her father and she’s reached an understanding with her mother. They’ll never be the model mum and daughter but this baby has given them a focus, away from their past.
‘That’s so true. Sit down, go on, I’ll bring you a drink.’
