by Dani Atkins
‘Charlotte? Earth to Charlotte.’ I jumped at the sound of David’s voice, noting with surprise that the taxi had pulled up at the steps of an exclusive London club. ‘We’re here. You were miles away,’ David said, taking hold of the lapels of my coat and gently drawing me closer towards him. He kissed the tip of my nose. ‘What were you thinking about?’
I lifted my head, and met his eyes, thankful he couldn’t read my thoughts. ‘Nothing important. Nothing important at all.’
‘Of course I’m delighted, darling,’ Veronica exclaimed, her voice more cut-glass than the delicate goblet in her hand. ‘It just seems a little . . . rushed . . . that’s all. You two have only been courting for eight months. I wondered what the hurry was.’
A snort of laughter erupted from the opposite side of the table, as David’s red-headed brother mimed picking up a telephone. ‘Hey Mum, it’s the 1950s calling. They asked if they could have their word back,’ Robert said, his eyes twinkling warmly.
‘Yes, Robert. Very funny,’ said his mother dismissively. ‘But despite what you think, you don’t want people to wonder if there’s a reason behind this sudden announcement and short engagement. You wouldn’t want anyone thinking Charlotte is in the family way, would you?’ she asked her eldest son.
David and I exchanged a look of total astonishment, literally stunned into silence. Thankfully not something that affected his younger brother. Again he mimed picking up the phone. ‘And the attitude too,’ he said into an imaginary receiver. ‘Okay, right, I’ll let her know.’
‘You are hilarious,’ said his mother, without cracking a smile. Robert winked broadly at me and I smiled back.
And suddenly I remembered how I had almost slipped up when Ally had said to me all those years ago.
‘The only good thing about the whole weekend was meeting David’s younger brother, Robert. He was really lovely.’
‘Yes, he’s good fun, isn’t he? I mean . . . he sounds like he is,’ I had quickly corrected, biting my lip at how close I had come to inadvertently revealing that I had in fact met both brothers many years earlier.
‘Charlotte and I might only have been dating for eight months, but don’t forget that we shared a house in our final year at university. We’ve known each other a really long time. No way is this a rushed decision. In fact, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life.’
Robert made a mock gagging sound and pantomimed throwing up in the silver bucket currently housing the expensive bottle of champagne.
His mother’s eyes narrowed as she icily commented, ‘I really don’t think you are my child at all, Robert. I believe there may have been some dreadful mistake at the hospital.’
Robert shrugged nonchalantly, and I knew that without his intervening banter the evening would have been far more frigid. Veronica Williams turned in her seat to look at me. ‘I do hope my grandchildren – when they arrive –’ she added hastily, when it looked like David was about to speak again, ‘take after their father, and bear absolutely no resemblance to their uncle.’
‘I hadn’t been expecting the topic of grandchildren to pop up tonight, had you?’ I questioned on the taxi journey back to David’s flat. ‘Is she panicking about securing an heir . . . like royalty?’ I giggled, burrowing my face into the shoulder of David’s cashmere coat, the one I had just bought him for Christmas.
‘Beats me,’ said David, shrugging the shoulder I was resting on. ‘I’ve given up trying to guess my mother’s motives. I’m just pleased she didn’t do or say anything to upset you, or make you uncomfortable, that’s all. I don’t want you running for the hills after meeting her.’
‘I’m sure David didn’t even see how bad she made me feel. How unworthy and insignificant,’ Ally had confided to me. Oh, he saw, Ally. He saw it all.
‘Just wait till she meets my own mother,’ I said, yawning widely. ‘It’ll be like looking into a mirror.’
David pretended to shiver and drew his arm around me, cinching me closer against him. ‘I suppose that’s something we ought to have discussed by now.’ His voice was soft and low, so that the taxi driver couldn’t hear.
‘What?’
‘Babies. You do want children one day, don’t you?’ I closed my eyes, realising we had accidentally wandered into one of the most important conversations of our relationship. ‘Obviously not yet,’ David continued. ‘I know we both have our careers, and that you want to set up your own business too. But one day . . .’ He left the question dangling in the air, like a precious star that had slipped from the sky.
‘Aren’t you worried that we’d be terrible parents? We’ve hardly had the best role models to follow.’
David pulled me against him. ‘And that is precisely why you and I are going to be absolutely brilliant parents. All we have to do is think about our own upbringing . . . and then do the exact opposite.’
I smiled into the darkness of the taxi, feeling the prospect of a future family waiting for me in the years ahead, like a glittering reward.
‘I do want children,’ I confirmed happily. ‘I want it all. Marriage, a career, and then a perfect little replica of you to make everything complete. But I do have one condition, and I’m afraid this one is a deal breaker.’
‘And that is?’ I could hear the small vein of worry behind his question.
‘That your brother categorically and emphatically has to be their godfather.’
‘Agreed,’ said David with a happy grin, tightening his hold around me.
Ally
The small Relatives’ Room seemed suddenly crowded with the ghosts of the past I had unwittingly summoned. Wordlessly I got to my feet and slipped out into the ward. The unit was softly lit apart from the nurses’ station and the two occupied rooms at either end of the linoleum-covered corridor. For a single second I felt as though I was standing on the Equator, being tugged by the polarity of opposing poles. My reawakened memories pulled me to the room on my right, but my heart, my soul and everything that I held dear in my life pulled me to the left. That was the way I turned.
Nothing appeared to have changed within Joe’s room. There still seemed to be an awful lot of people around him, and none of them seemed to be any closer to bringing him back to me. I stood in the shadows of the corridor, and watched through the glass, my heart yearning to be in there with him, my brain terrified of what I might learn if I were.
I had fallen in love with David quickly and dramatically, as though the very ground I was standing on had crumbled beneath me, leaving me to tumble in free-fall into an abyss. With Joe it had been so much more gradual, sliding inch by inch towards him, so subtly at first that I hadn’t even realised it was happening, until it was too late to have stopped the inexorable journey. Not that I had ever wanted to.
Ally – Eight Years Earlier
The first sight I ever had of Joe was of his backside; I’ve really never got tired of reminding him of that. The first time he ever met me, I threw up two minutes later. He loves telling that one too.
I had stumbled into the kitchen of my family home, feeling absolutely terrible. My dad had had a gastric bug over Christmas, and Mum had come down with it a week later. I thought I had managed to dodge the bullet, but I’d woken that morning feeling dreadful, so I guessed not. The last thing I had wanted or expected to find, as I blearily entered the kitchen, was a workman preparing to rip out our old units and replace them with new hand-crafted ones.
I’d forgotten my mum had warned me that someone was coming round the following morning to begin the work. So, when I walked into the kitchen, wearing a skimpy strappy top and old faded PJ bottoms, I did a cartoon-like double-take when the first thing I saw was a neatly taut, denim-covered behind. Happily the sight was devoid of any trace of ‘builder’s bum’, because no one needs to see that, with or without a stomach bug. In fact there was nothing about the man, who instantly got to his feet as I entered the room, that could possibly make a person feel nauseous. Far from it. He was tall, and had a warm wide sm
ile, set in a more than passably attractive face. His short-cut sandy-coloured hair was flecked with tiny pieces of plaster, making him look as though he’d been caught in the confetti fallout of a nearby wedding. He seemed giant-like in proportions in our small kitchen, but I think that was probably due to his thick-soled work-boots and the fact that I was barefoot. He was muscular and broad shouldered, like a rugby player. A rugby player with a large chisel in his hands.
‘Good morning,’ he greeted, with an easy smile, putting down the tool and extending his hand to me. ‘I’m sorry if I woke you. Your mum said you were still asleep. I was trying to be as quiet as possible.’
My eyes went to the kitchen clock and I saw it was well after nine. I’d slept badly last night, every night if truth be told, since David and I broke up. Insomnia was just one of many lingering reminders of my failed relationship.
‘I’m Joe, by the way. Joe Taylor,’ he said, still holding out his hand in the kind of polite greeting you somehow don’t expect from a surprisingly good-looking tradesman you have just found in your kitchen.
Feeling a little slow and stupid I put my hand in his, instantly aware of the coarsened texture of the skin of his palm. It felt nothing at all like David’s hand. I shook my head in annoyance. I had to stop doing that.
I opened my mouth to complete my side of the customary exchange. ‘I’m . . . I’m . . . going to be sick!’ I completed, removing my hand so it could cover my mouth as I ran from him at speed towards the downstairs cloakroom. I only just made it in time, throwing myself to my knees before the toilet, without even bothering to shut the door behind me. Several horrible moments later, I was done. I rocked back on my knees, and ran my hand across my mouth, which felt disgusting. What I needed more than anything was a drink of water. And suddenly there one was, appearing like magic over my right shoulder.
‘Here, drink this.’ I took the glass gratefully and raised it to my lips. ‘Don’t take too much at once,’ he advised, ‘or it might not stay down.’ I had no desire for a repeat performance, so I followed his advice carefully. It was mortifying enough to throw up in front of a complete stranger; I certainly didn’t want to do it twice.
The water was reviving, and after a few mouthfuls I set the glass aside. His hand was outstretched, waiting for me, and it should have been weird to use it to help me to my feet, but I did. And it didn’t feel weird at all.
‘I am so sorry about that,’ I apologised, a blush of embarrassment flooding my face with the colour that my bout of nausea had washed away.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ he dismissed with a half smile. ‘It’s a common reaction people have when meeting me. I’ve kind of got used to it.’ I laughed, instantly liking him. ‘How do you feel now?’
‘Better. Much better,’ I confirmed. ‘But I think I must be coming down with the same thing my parents have both had, so you’d better keep your distance.’
He shrugged, but made no move to step away from me. If I’d thought he looked tall and broad in the kitchen, then I felt totally dwarfed by him in the close proximity of the tiny downstairs cloakroom.
‘I’ve got a pretty hardy constitution. I think I can risk it,’ he said, cupping my elbow as he led me gently from the room, as though he was the householder, and I was the outsider. That too should have felt uncomfortable and off-putting, but again it didn’t.
Back in the kitchen once more, he pulled out one of the pine chairs from the table. ‘Why don’t you sit down for a moment.’ I sat. ‘So, as I was saying,’ he continued, as though nothing had happened, ‘my name is Joe. I’m going to be here for the next few weeks, working on the kitchen.’ I nodded, still feeling embarrassed about what had just happened. I hated anyone seeing me like that.
‘I take it you are Alexandra Felicity Nelson.’ My eyebrows rose at the use of my full name. He grinned and nodded in the direction of the adjacent dining room. ‘I saw your wall of fame.’
I gave a small cringe of apology. The entire wall beside my piano was covered with framed certificates and diplomas from my many music exams, as well as photographs taken at every single recital or performance I had ever been in. To say that my parents were proud of my achievements was an understatement.
‘Ally,’ I corrected. ‘Just Ally.’
‘Well, Just Ally, is there anything I can get you? A cup of tea? A slice of toast?’
I shook my head. My stomach was more settled, but I had no desire to test just how far I could push it. My dad hadn’t been able to eat a thing for days over Christmas.
‘Well, I won’t need to disconnect the power today, so you can always change your mind later. If you don’t feel up to fixing anything yourself, I’m happy to do it for you.’ He really was incredibly nice, and perhaps that was why I felt the sting as my eyes began to fill with tears. It didn’t take much to push me over the edge these days. A sad advert on TV, a sloppy Rom Com DVD I’d watched the other night with Max, the empty place at the Christmas table where once my grandmother had sat. All had the power to reduce me to tears. It was like David had let a new emotional Ally out of hibernation when we were together, and now that we weren’t, I was really struggling to get her back in her box.
We stared at each other for a moment, both a little unsure of how to proceed. Perhaps some of my discomfort was due to the fact that I was suddenly aware of just how inappropriate my revealing strappy vest was for chatting to a stranger. I brought my legs up onto the seat, hiding my breasts from view. Not that I could accuse him of looking anywhere except my face when he spoke. But still.
‘I should probably get out of your way,’ I suggested, making no move to get off my chair.
‘You’re fine where you are. Don’t go rushing off if you still don’t feel right.’
I didn’t feel right. Far from it. But I didn’t think that was going to change for a long time to come.
‘Is this what you do, kitchens and stuff?’ I asked artlessly, waving my arm at the stack of beautifully carved cabinet doors resting against the wall.
He smiled at my choice of words. ‘More stuff than kitchens, at the moment. All types of joinery, really. At least for now.’
‘That sounds intriguing. Have you a grand plan for the future?’
‘Hasn’t everyone?’ he replied easily.
I tried to keep my smile in place, but I could feel it starting to slip. ‘Hmm. I guess so.’
This time it was his turn to pause before speaking. ‘You don’t sound so sure.’
‘My plans are kind of . . . fluid . . . at the moment. I should have gone back to university a couple of weeks ago, but, well . . . things have happened, so I think I might be hanging around here for a while.’ This was really unlike me, sharing so much with a stranger, but there was something about him that made it easy to reveal more than I intended. I had only known him for twenty minutes, and already I could sense he was a good listener.
‘Can you do that?’
‘People drop out all the time.’
He tried, and failed, not to look shocked. It was a similar expression to the one I’d already seen on the faces of Mum, Dad and Max. I just hadn’t expected to see it on the guy who was fitting our kitchen, that’s all.
‘Anyway it’s not dropping out. Not really. I have my dissertation to write, and most of our lectures are finished, and I can catch up with the on-line notes for those that aren’t.’ I stopped abruptly, realising I was still trying to justify my decision, probably more to myself than him. He was just making polite conversation. I’m sure he didn’t care one way or the other about the spectacular mess I had made of my life.
He bent to pick up a tool by his feet, and turned it over in his hands for several seconds before speaking. ‘Your mum did mention something. About a break-up.’
My head flew up in shock. I couldn’t believe Mum had told him something so personal. What next? Were the butcher and the postman about to pop round offering me tea and sympathy?
He correctly read the expression on my face. ‘Don’t be angry
with her. She was just looking out for you. Being a good mum. I could tell she was really concerned about you. And she was worried that your ex might show up here while she was at work. That’s why she mentioned it, so I could keep an eye out for you.’
‘Well, thank you. But that really won’t be necessary,’ I said, my voice so tight it was an effort to squeeze out the words.
‘She didn’t ask me to interfere. And of course, I wouldn’t,’ he assured me. ‘It’s obviously none of my business.’
I nodded, my eyes stinging from tears I really didn’t want to shed in front of him. ‘No. It isn’t. But that’s not what I meant. It won’t be necessary for you, Mum or anyone else to look out for him, because he’s not going to come here. Not now. Not ever.’
‘I see,’ said Joe turning his attention back to the cabinet he’d been working on when I first walked into the room. I thought the subject was – thankfully – over and done with, until he turned to look back at me over one broad shoulder. ‘Then he’s an idiot, if you don’t mind me saying.’
‘For not coming after me?’
He shook his head slowly. ‘For letting you go in the first place.’
Ally
A flurry of movement caught my eye as the medical team began to file from the room, deep in discussion. I looked up anxiously, searching for the face of the doctor who had accompanied me to the ward, but he was no longer among them. It was a nurse who came to stand beside me, gently touching me on the arm. ‘Mrs Taylor?’
I didn’t look at her. My attention was still fixed on the departing doctors. ‘Where are they going? Has something else happened?’ I asked desperately.
The hand still resting on my arm patted me gently. ‘No. The shifts are changing shortly, that’s all. They need to make sure the medical team taking over your husband’s care are up to speed.’
I stared after the retreating medics, wanting to scream at them to come back and not even consider going home to their warm cosy lives, their wives, their families and their perfect unbroken worlds until they had finished the job they had begun. Until Joe was made well again. Was that an unreasonable request? It didn’t seem so to me. How many doctors would be on duty for the rest of the night? Would their time be split between the care of both patients on the ward: the man I loved now and the man I had loved then?
