Happy Ever After

by Christina Jones

  ‘Not all,’ Cindy bit her lip. ‘I mean, even without Jez, we’ll never all be together again.’

  ‘Five out of six ain’t bad,’ Tess smiled.

  ‘Four – you and Simon, me and Heidi.’

  ‘And Mack,’ Tess put in. ‘Surely you can’t have forgotten Mack?’

  Cindy felt the ghosts walk over her grave again. She shivered. ‘Don’t joke, Tess. Please. Mack won’t be there. He can’t be there... He’s dead... I killed him.’

  Over thirty years ago: a sultry summer night, the first of the school holidays, with that glorious six week gap of freedom stretching between the Lower Sixth and the Upper, before the non-stop year of studying ahead for the A levels Cindy’s parents were so desperate she achieved.

  Cindy was 17… she’d passed her driving test at the first attempt 6 weeks earlier… They were all in the Silver Stars Café – and someone – Jez? - mentioned that there was an all-night rock festival just a few miles away…

  And it had seemed such a great idea – why not? – something exciting and different and daring – and they’d finished school – and…

  Cindy had shaken her head. There was no way on earth her parents would let her stay out all night. Tess and Heidi said the same…

  They’d sunk into gloom and then someone – Simon? – had suggested the girls all pretended to be staying at someone else’s house – so they plumped for Ruth, a friend from school who didn’t live in Benfield or Benfield Heath and whose parents weren’t on the telephone…

  And their parents had believed them…And they’d all piled into Mack’s bright yellow Capri…

  Cindy wiped her eyes. Ivy’s small living room was oppressive, claustrophobic. It was all real again. The memories she’d pushed away for so long.

  ‘Cindy?’ Tess’s voice seemed to be echoing from miles away. ‘Are you okay?’

  Was that real? Cindy thought dizzily. Was that Tess saying those words now – or as she had that night all those years ago?

  That humid night – when they’d left Benfield at 10 o’clock – and driven wildly, singing along to The Damned on the stereo – Mack driving, and she was sitting beside him, no… curled against him her hand under his on the steering wheel, and Jez and Heidi and Tess and Simon were crammed in the back…

  They’d careered round bends in the darkness, the wind roaring in through the open windows, and rushed down narrow lanes, laughing and singing, never once feeling anything but happy and young and glad to be alive.

  Immortal.

  And she’d begged Mack to let her drive.

  Laughing, he’d said no. He’d only been driving for a few months himself, the car was his pride and joy, he didn’t trust women drivers…

  She’d punched him and he’d leaned across and kissed her…

  And Heidi and Jez and Tess and Simon had all laughed and teased her, and giggling, she’d sort of scrambled on to Mack’s lap…

  ‘You do the pedals, then,’ she’d grinned, ‘and I’ll do the steering.’

  There was more laughter from the back seat and Tess saying they really shouldn’t it wasn’t safe, they were going too fast, it was silly…

  And then…

  Cindy was back in Ivy’s living room. She felt violently sick. She felt the panic she’d felt that night as in a fraction of a second everything changed.

  Mack had shouted a warning. The last time she’d ever heard his voice… And the steering wheel didn’t seem to turn at the right time, and the trees at the side of the road were somehow above them, and the car took on a life of its own, and the noise…

  Oh, the noise…

  Then there’d been something – the windscreen? – crashing against her head, and pain everywhere – and then there’d been nothing. Silence. Darkness. Nothing. And finally somewhere, Tess’s tearful voice saying: “Cindy - are you okay?’.

  And she hadn’t answered because she couldn’t, because everything was roaring away into a huge, black pit.

  ‘Cindy – are you okay?’ Tess leaned forward. ‘I thought you were going to faint for a moment – and what on earth did you mean about killing Mack?’

  ‘Right,’ Ivy bustled in with a hostess trolley. ‘I hope you girls have caught up with everything. I’ve got just enough lunch here for two.’

  ‘Two?’ Cindy was still shaken by the flash-back. ‘Aren’t you having any lunch then?’

  ‘I am, dear,’ Ivy chuckled. ‘You’re not – at least, not here because - oh, Tess! I told you to tell her.’

  Tess pulled a face. ‘It didn’t go exactly to plan. She thinks she killed Mack.’

  ‘I did,’ Cindy’s teeth chattered. ‘It was all my fault. I was stupid and if I hadn’t insisted on messing around and grabbing the wheel and – ‘

  ‘Oh, my dear,’ Ivy bustled over to Cindy. ‘Why on earth do you think that? That’s so silly. Is this what you’ve tortured yourself with all these years? You didn’t kill him, my dear. The accident – ‘

  ‘Was my fault!’ Cindy said, trying not to cry. ‘It was! I was steering the car! I lost control!’

  Ivy hugged her. ‘Lord, dear. No-one except your crowd really knows what happened that night, but you mustn’t blame yourself, dear. You were children… Oh, dear - it seems we’ve made a right muck up of this, young Tess, doesn’t it?’

  Tess nodded. ‘Especially now – because I think the car’s just stopped outside.’

  Car? Cindy frowned. What car? And what had Ivy meant about her not having lunch with them? Why did nothing make any sense?

  ‘Yes, he’s here,’ Tess said, peering through Ivy’s lace curtains. ‘His car’s outside. Go on – Cindy. And I’ll see you tomorrow – we’ll all be together again tomorrow to see the houses come down.’

  ‘What are you talking about? Who’s here?’

  ‘Mack,’ Ivy said softly.

  ‘Mack?’

  Cindy felt really ill now. This was surely some very sick joke?

  ‘Mack’s dead.’

  Ivy shook her head. ‘Lordy, dear, you’re as white as a sheet. I had no idea that you didn’t know. ‘

  Tess squeezed her hands. ‘So sorry, Cindy – we, me and Ivy, thought this would be a lovely surprise for you. But why on earth did you think he was dead? Oh, look – don’t talk to me – go and talk to him.’

  Cindy worked some saliva into her dry mouth. ‘You’re joking, aren’t you? Don’t – please. It’s too cruel. He’s dead. I can’t see him. He’s dead.’

  ‘He’s very much alive,’ Ivy’s face puckered in concern. ‘And whoever told you different is the one that’s been playing cruel tricks, dear. How you must have tormented yourself over the years...’

  Tess joined in. ‘You must see him, Cindy.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Cindy was anguished, as Ivy and Tess’s words turned her life upside down and inside out. ‘Even if I can come to terms with the fact that he’s alive – which is enough to send anyone doo-lally under the circumstances - what must he think of me? I caused the accident and haven’t seen or spoken to him since…’

  ‘You’ll never know if you don’t meet him, will you? And when young Tess here contacted him over the interweb thingy he seemed really keen to meet you.’ Ivy handed Cindy another tissue. ‘Oh, Cindy, dear – I’m that sorry – I thought you’d be pleased…’

  Shakily, her heart practically bursting through her ribs, Cindy stood up. In those early days, in her wildest dreams, when she’d tortured herself and fantasised about Mack’s death being a terrible mistake, she’d imagined them being reunited in some dreamy, soft-focus, flower-strewn, slow-motion romantic film sequence.

  She’d be young and pretty and Mack would be – well – Mack – and he’d pull her into his arms and tell her he’d always love her.

  And now, in a matter of moments, she really would be seeing him again and – what would he see? A dishevelled middle-aged woman with untidy hair, scruffy clothes, and a face bloated from crying.

  It was probably all she deserved.

  ‘I�
��m sorry,’ she tried to regain some sort of control, ‘but for over thirty years I’ve mourned Mack, grieved for him… And now…’ Cindy looked tearfully at Tess and Ivy. ‘I know you arranged this with the best of intentions but I’ll just go and tell him it’s all been an awful mistake and say sorry…’

  Taking another huge breath, she walked unsteadily from the room and out of Ivy’s house, then down the garden path, her heart thundering, her pulse racing, totally unable to take in what was happening.

  Was she dreaming? Would she wake up at home? In her own bed, with the tears on her cheeks. Again.

  Oh, she still dreamed about Mack – dreamed he was alive and happy and they were together, and then she’d wake, even now decades later, crying because she loved him and he was dead and she’d killed him.

  He was dead. Her parents had told her so.

  She stopped at Ivy’s gate and stared at the car.

  Not a yellow Capri. A long, sleek silver car.

  He leaned across and opened the passenger door.

  ‘Hello, Cindy…’

  Cindy clutched the gate post as everything slipped away. All the old feelings flooded back. Mack, still slim in jeans and a black sweater… Mack’s voice, with a hint of laughter… Mack’s face, smiling, older, but still beautiful… Mack’s hair, shorter but still dark… Mack’s eyes, big, soulful…

  Mack – alive, not a ghost.

  She couldn’t speak.

  ‘I don’t know what to say either,’ he said gently. ‘I’d never thought this would happen. Ivy and Tess said you’d come back for the demolition but I didn’t think you would because... Still, we can talk about that later. Hop in…’

  Cindy shook her head, terrified that if she let go of the gate post she’d fall over. ‘Mack – I’m so sorry…’

  ‘Are you turning me down, then?’

  ‘N- no… No, it’s just -’

  ‘Too many bad memories? Your husband will object? You don’t like surprises? You don’t eat lunch? You’re on a diet? You don’t remember me?’

  ‘No! No…’

  He smiled. It broke her heart. ‘Come on then.’

  Somehow, she made her way to the car, knowing that Ivy and Tess were watching from behind the net curtains.

  She slid into the seat, not looking at Mack, holding herself away from him. This wasn’t Mack – this was a grown-up stranger. But he wasn’t a ghost either.

  ‘You look great,’ Mack said softly as the car pulled away from Daffodil Lane. ‘No chains, no leather and lace – and no spiky hair - but still very much Cindy.’

  Cindy swallowed. ‘I thought you were dead…’

  Mack didn’t look at her, concentrating on driving. ‘As introductory remarks go, that’s quite a stunner. Well, as you can see, I’m not. I’m pretty old – as we all are – but I’m still breathing. I’ve booked a table at the Purple Feathers – used to be the White Hart in our day, remember?’

  ‘Yes, of course… but is this really happening? Mack – I’m sorry… I honestly don’t know what to say…’

  ‘I’m not surprised – especially as you think I’m some sort of apparition.’

  ‘Don’t,’ Cindy muttered. ‘You’ve got no idea…’

  ‘I think I have,’ Mack said ruefully. ‘After all, I tried so hard to find you after – well, afterwards - and you’d gone. Just vanished. I knew you were alive but I didn’t know where you were. So this is just as weird for me, too.’

  Cindy swallowed, watching the familiar countryside of her childhood flash past the window. ‘Did you try to find me?’

  ‘Of course I tried. It was mad – we were all taken to the same hospital – different wards of course – and all they told me was that you had concussion and your parents said you couldn’t have visitors – then I was released and you’d gone, and I tried to find you for ages.’

  Cindy fumbled in her bag for a tissue and wiped her eyes.

  Mack sighed. ‘These days it would be easy, wouldn’t it? The internet, emails, mobile phones, texts – anyone can find anyone anywhere – but back then I came up against a brick wall at every turn. Eventually I just assumed you didn’t want to be found, and I gave up. But I never gave up hope…’

  ‘My parents made sure we just vanished off the radar – and it worked.’

  ‘They never approved of me, did they? Look, before we get to the pub shall we just fill each other in a bit on our lives?’

  She nodded, listening to his well-remembered voice, watching his much-loved face, gradually, oh-so-gradually, realising that Mack was real and alive, and slowly letting the massive burden of guilt she’d carried all her life ebb away.

  Mack had taken his A levels, travelled, worked in various jobs, married and divorced – no children, no current partner - and now lived alone in a pretty Midlands town less than twenty miles from her own, and ran a small landscape gardening company.

  ‘And what about you?’ He smiled at her once they’d exclaimed over the irony of them living so close to one another for so long and being unaware of it. ‘I had no idea where you moved to – and no-one has heard from you since. Have you been happy?’

  Cindy nodded. Well, she had. Mostly.

  Faltering, her voice hardly more than a whisper, she told him about working at Dexters, about Steve and the divorce, about Polly and Dylan.

  They’d arrived at the revamped Purple Feathers and as she scrambled from the car she realised that Mack was limping slightly.

  ‘What?’ he looked at her as they made their way inside the pale glass-and-plant dining area. ‘Oh – my leg…’

  ‘Is that - ? Did I…?’

  Mack shrugged. ‘My war wound. A mere trifle. You were worse than me. No-one would tell me what happened to you except you were in hospital for weeks and then –‘

  A pretty waitress showed them to their table, offered menus, took orders.

  ‘But your leg?’ Cindy insisted, sitting opposite him, close enough now to see the laughter lines and the traces of grey in his hair. ‘How bad - ?’

  ‘Broken – in several places. I was a bit of a crock for ages but – Cindy, it’s all over. It was all over a lifetime ago.’

  ‘Not for me, it wasn’t,’ she toyed with her bread roll. ‘I’ve spent my life thinking I’d killed you.’

  ‘I still don’t understand how -’

  ‘After the crash I was unconscious, and when I came round no-one would tell me anything. Then I found out that Tess and Simon had bruises and scratches and somehow Jez and Heidi walked away uninjured… Mum and Dad told me all this when I came out of hospital. When they’d already arranged to move away. Remember, I didn’t ever go back to Benfield. They told me that everyone blamed me for what happened.’

  Mack groaned.

  Cindy continued. ‘That’s when they told me you were dead and I knew I’d killed you. And they said we had to leave the area and I had to forget it and start a new life – so I tried, and tried – and eventually I managed to live with it, but I never got over it and …’

  Mack stared at her.

  Cindy shook her head. So many lies. So much unnecessary pain.

  Mack ignored his soup. ‘So what exactly did your parents tell you about my – er – death?’

  ‘They said you’d died at the scene – the funeral had taken place before I regained consciousness – that was why they told me why no-one would ever speak to me again and why we’d had to move away and…’

  Mack looked shocked. ‘I’m sure they had their reasons, but I’ve no idea what they thought they were doing to you. Sorry, Cindy, but I think your parents were very misguided at the best and downright wicked at the worst. How could they have let you live your life torturing yourself?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘And if you’d really killed me,’ Mack leaned across the table and took Cindy’s hands, making her tremble, ‘don’t you think there would have been a court case? Didn’t it occur to you that you might have been accused of manslaughter?’

  ‘No…’ C
indy, still feeling as though she was in a dream, stared at Mack’s fingers stroking hers. ‘I didn’t think anything apart from the fact that – that you were dead and I’d killed you.’

  ‘But, surely, you must have realised…?’

  ‘Mack, I was only seventeen, I was scared stiff. I was heartbroken. I’d been in hospital for ages, we’d moved away the day I was released – my life was a mess. I was a mess. I trusted my parents.’

  ‘Mmmm,’ Mack frowned. ‘Okay – sorry - go on…’

  ‘Mum and Dad said the police had decided the accident was your fault because you were driving carelessly, but because you were dead and no-one else was involved, there wouldn’t be any charges. And I kept saying it was my fault because I was steering and they just told me never, ever to say that, never to tell anyone that.’

  Mack snorted. ‘And you’ve carried this around with you for over thirty years? Thinking you’d killed me? And they let you think it? Oh, God – I’m so sorry. I should have been able to let you know. But I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me because of the accident. I thought you blamed me.’

  ‘What?’ Cindy blinked. ‘How could I blame you? It was me being a show-off, stupid…’

  Mack shook his head. ‘We were just kids, Cindy. Obviously, knowing now that you thought I was dead, you wouldn’t have tried to contact me – but I never, ever stopped thinking about you, wondering… oh, okay – yes, hoping and praying that one day we’d get back together.’

  Cindy smiled at him. ‘Me too – which as I thought you were dead, was pretty awful for me. And now it’s a lifetime on and – ‘

  ‘And thanks to the demolition of Bluebell Walk and Ivy and Tess interfering we’ve somehow managed the impossible. So, would you like to hear the true story?’

  ‘Oh,’ Cindy sighed. ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘The police investigated, talked to everyone. I said I’d taken my eyes off the road for a moment to change a tape – everyone else agreed that’s what had happened – so they didn’t need to ask you while you were in hospital. I was fined and had points on my licence – not that that mattered much because my leg meant I wasn’t going to be driving for ages… And that was an end to it.’