The Dilemma

by B. A. Paris

  ‘So, was it worth the wait?’ The sound of Jess’s voice behind me makes my heart start hammering, terrified that Rob will be standing next to her. I turn slowly, giving myself time, wondering if I’m going to be able to hold it together.

  Relief at finding Jess on her own brings tears to my eyes.

  ‘Yes,’ I say, blinking them back. ‘It was worth the wait.’

  Jess takes my tears as tears of happiness, that at last I’m having my ‘big day’, and gives me a hug. ‘You look beautiful!’

  ‘Not too much like a bride?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  I peer over her shoulder. ‘Where’s Cleo?’ I ask, looking for Rob at the same time.

  ‘Talking to Josh and Max.’

  ‘Oh yes, I can see her. I’ll catch her later. By the way, did either of you pick up my phone at the spa?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ says Kirin.

  ‘Me neither.’ Jess looks worried. ‘Why, have you lost it?’

  ‘I don’t know, it’s not in my bag so I thought I must have left it on the table when we were having lunch.’

  ‘Do you want me to phone them?’ Kirin asks. ‘Oh – I can’t, Adam’s confiscated our phones.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll call them tomorrow.’ I turn to Jess. ‘Shall I get you a chair?’

  She gives me a grateful smile. ‘I’m fine for now.’

  ‘Have you seen the photos of Marnie?’ Kirin asks her.

  ‘Not yet.’

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Rob approaching.

  ‘Oh look, there’s Izzy!’ I say, ducking away. ‘Sorry, I need to go and say hello.’

  I have a hug and a catch-up with Izzy, who wants to go and make sure the caterers are doing their job. I tell her that everything is under control but Izzy loves organising everyone and manages to do it without causing offence.

  ‘Have you heard from Marnie?’ she asks, reaching out and taking a canapé from a passing tray.

  ‘Yes, I got a message from her this morning. And she sent me some lovely yellow roses.’

  ‘The ones in the kitchen? They’re beautiful! I can’t wait to see her when she comes back, I miss my favourite niece.’

  I smile, because Marnie is her only niece. Izzy and Ian can’t have children, so Marnie is hugely important to them. Since she was old enough to hold a teacup, Izzy has taken Marnie for afternoon tea in London for every birthday, trying a different hotel each year and rating them afterwards according to the quality of the scones, the freshness of the sandwiches and the variety of cakes.

  ‘You should go and see the photos,’ I say, pointing to the fence. ‘There’s one of you holding her just after she was born.’

  ‘I’m glad I’m in at least one of them!’

  I had such mixed emotions when I saw the photos earlier. Delight and pride, of course, but also a slight dismay that there were some I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t remember if I’d taken them or if they’d been taken by someone else, where they’d been taken, why they’d been taken. The one where she’s wearing her school uniform, what occasion was that to mark – a first day back at school, an end of term event, or simply because she’d looked cute that morning? And the one on the beach – where, when, why? I was haunted by the memories the photos didn’t bring back – and haunted by the innocence of them. And disbelief that Marnie, my beautiful Marnie, could do what she’s done.

  I’d been proud of the way that, during her calls to us, she would always ask how Jess was doing, and how she was managing her symptoms. But after what Kirin told me earlier today, about Rob being in denial, about the way he insists to Nelson that Jess is still independent, I have a horrible sense of foreboding. What if the real reason Marnie is coming back at the end of the month is not just to see Rob, but because he’s planning to leave Jess and she wants to be here to secretly support him through it?

  Izzy leaves to look at the photos and, after checking that Rob is nowhere near me, I look down towards the terrace to see if anyone else has arrived. I know it’s not logical, not when I haven’t seen them for over twenty years, not when they didn’t reply to the invitation I sent them, or send me a card, but I can’t let go of the faint hope that my parents will turn up. But there’s only Adam, his head bent over something which I suspect is his mobile. He looks so forlorn standing there on his own that I’m suddenly overwhelmed by a weird feeling of displacement, that we aren’t where we should be, that everything going on around us is wrong. I want to shout at Josh to stop the music, to turn off the lights, to tell everyone that there’s been a terrible mistake and could they please go home. But Jeannie and Mike are coming up the steps, their faces lit with smiles, and the feeling passes as quickly as it came.

  8 P.M. – 9 P.M.

  Adam

  More people arrive. I stand on the terrace and go through the motions: meet, greet, move them towards the steps and onto the lawn. The caterers stop to offer me things to eat as they walk by with trays of food, but I can’t bring myself to take anything. And then, at last, a lull.

  ‘Dad!’ I look up and see Josh waving to me. ‘Can you come here?’

  ‘Has everybody arrived, do you think?’ I call, reluctant to leave the terrace until I’m sure. I have to shout over the sound of Aretha Franklin singing ‘Respect’. Jess’s choice, I heard someone say.

  ‘Yes, I think so!’

  How is it possible that since Nelson and Kirin arrived at seven-thirty, I’ve been so focused on what people are saying so they won’t guess anything is wrong, that there have been stretches of a few seconds, maybe even a few minutes, when Marnie completely disappeared from my mind? It feels wrong that I’m able to smile and chat when – I quickly close my mind. I can’t let doubt in, not with Josh waiting to speak to me.

  I close the side gate and make my way over.

  ‘Mum’s ring. Did you pick it up?’

  I stare at him. ‘No, I—’

  ‘Aw, Dad! You disappeared for ages after Mum got back so I thought you’d gone to get it.’

  ‘I was upstairs, getting ready.’ I rub at my face. ‘The jewellers phoned to tell me they couldn’t get it done in time.’

  ‘I thought you were going to give it to her anyway?’ He looks at me, frowning. ‘If you didn’t go and pick it up, does that mean you don’t have a present to give her?’

  ‘I’ll explain,’ I say. ‘She’ll understand.’

  ‘Right.’ I can see he’s disappointed. ‘It’s just that I’ve heard people asking what you’d given her and she said that the party was enough. But I think everyone might be expecting you to give her something later. Do you have a photo of the ring? You could at least give her that.’

  ‘No. No, I don’t.’

  ‘Well, could you maybe find a photo of something similar?’

  ‘Yes, good idea,’ I say, glad of an excuse to get away. ‘I’ll go and do that now.’

  ‘Don’t be long!’ he calls as I head towards the house. ‘I don’t want to have to explain to everyone why you’ve gone missing!’

  I go up to the bedroom, but instead of looking for a photo on my iPad, I sit down on the bed. Mimi is in her favourite place, watching me with those unblinking green eyes. Ignoring her, I take out my phone and sit staring at it for a moment. I should call the emergency number now. I should have called before. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, not calling.

  A burst of laughter comes through the window and glad of the excuse, I get to my feet and look outside. Nelson is standing in the middle of a group of people and I realise that he, or Kirin, has just announced that she’s expecting twins. The music stops and then the song ‘Congratulations’ starts playing. Everyone is applauding, and I’m struck by the terrible irony of the situation; there’s been a plane crash, a crash which our daughter might have been part of, and people are singing along to ‘Congratulations’, and applauding.

  It hits me then, the enormity of what I’ve done. I’ve let the party go on. I’ve let people drink champagne and laugh and sing. I s
ink onto the bed and bury my face in my hands. What was I thinking? Mimi, sensing my distress, comes to investigate but I push her away. She comes closer again, not used to my reaction, and I round on her.

  ‘No, Mimi, leave it!’

  She darts off the bed and I sink further. What have I done? I have to stop the party now, this minute, before it goes any further. I shouldn’t have let it get this far, I should have cancelled it before it had even started. Now, if the worst has happened, I’m going to have to go down and ask everyone to go home – and then tell them why.

  I can’t, I couldn’t. My mind starts spiralling. Maybe I could ask Nelson. If I find out that Marnie was on the flight, maybe Nelson could tell everyone. So would I tell Nelson before I tell Livia? I get to my feet and start pacing the room. No, I need to tell Livia first, then Josh. Mum and Dad too, they should hear it from me, but once I’ve told Livia, once I’ve told Josh. Maybe I should include Izzy and Ian with Mum and Dad, because they’re family too. Or should I tell them after, once I’ve told Livia, once I’ve told Josh, once I’ve told Mum and Dad? Or maybe leave Nelson to tell them along with everyone else?

  And how will I tell them? There are no words. Even the thought is unthinkable.

  And then – a ring on the doorbell. I whip round, staring at the bedroom door, my heart already racing. We’re not expecting anyone else, all the guests have arrived. The bell sounds again, more timidly this time, as if whoever is on the other side of the door is having second thoughts about having pressed the bell the first time. Just as Marnie might do if she was worried that someone other than me might open the door and spoil the surprise. Just as Marnie might do if she’d gone around to the side gate and hadn’t found me there, waiting to help her into the box.

  I look down at my phone. It’s eight thirty-five, earlier than she was due to arrive – but what if she was put on a direct flight to London, straight from Cairo, like she’d said in her message this morning? I run down the stairs, stupidly near to tears. I could have saved myself so much anguish if I’d thought things through. Of course they’d try to get passengers stranded in Cairo to their final destination as quickly as possible. I fumble with the latch, I can already see myself hugging her, telling her that I thought she was on the plane that crashed.

  I fling open the door.

  ‘M—!’ Her name dies on my lips, and I stare in disbelief, because it isn’t Marnie but someone else. Someone smaller than Marnie, with darker hair, someone I know but who, in my confusion, I can’t place.

  The young woman takes a sudden step back. ‘Hello, Mr Harman,’ she says, flustered. ‘I hope it’s alright that I’m here. We changed my grandad’s celebration to tomorrow so that I could come to the party tonight. I didn’t tell Josh because I wanted to surprise him. Maybe I should have let you or Mrs Harman know. I – I didn’t think. I’m sorry.’

  Josh’s girlfriend, I realise dully. Not Marnie.

  ‘Amy,’ I say.

  I don’t want her here. All I want is to slam the door in her face, scream at her to go away.

  She looks behind me into the hall, her movement faltering when she sees my face.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she says again. ‘I should have called.’

  I stand back, not trusting myself to speak. She steps into the hallway and waits, hovering uncertainly.

  ‘Well, go on through,’ I say roughly. ‘I’m sure Josh will be pleased to see you.’ She hurries off and I lean against the wall, adrenalin making my heart thump painfully. It’s not her fault, I tell myself. It’s not her fault she’s not Marnie.

  I walk slowly after her, and watch from the door as she tiptoes across the lawn, around groups of people, to where Josh is standing next to Max, his back to her. She reaches up and puts her hands over his eyes and when he swivels round, it’s not Amy I see laughing at the look on his face, but Marnie, because she did the same to me, the time she came home unexpectedly from university to surprise me on my birthday. I can still feel the touch of her hands as she sneaked up behind me and covered my eyes.

  ‘You OK, Adam?’ Overwhelmed by the memory, it takes me a moment to realise that Nelson is talking to me.

  I pull myself back to the present. ‘Yes, I’m fine. I didn’t know she was coming, that’s all.’

  ‘Amy?’

  ‘Yes.’ I take a step onto the terrace, moving myself away from him. ‘Sorry, Nelson, I need to go and socialise.’

  I walk unsteadily up the steps. People crowd round, telling me what a wonderful party it is and how lovely Livia looks and isn’t it a shame that Marnie isn’t here. It becomes too much. I look around desperately – I shouldn’t be here, none of us should be. And then I hear Livia laugh from somewhere behind me and when I turn, I see her standing in the middle of a group of her friends. She looks so beautiful, so happy, so – I search for the word – free.

  And I know that I’m only going to make the call once the party is over.

  Livia

  There are so many people talking at the same time that I’m finding it hard to concentrate. Luckily the music is loud and I’m able to smile, laugh and nod without anyone realising how distracted I am. The effort needed to avoid Rob is beginning to weigh on me. I hate that I’m having to play this stupid game of cat and mouse at the party I’ve been waiting for, for so long. Tears prick my eyelids and I bow my head, blinking them away quickly.

  Someone hands me a drink and looking up, I see Ian, Izzy’s husband.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say gratefully.

  ‘It must be quite overwhelming,’ he says, studying my face. We’re the same height and his eyes, level with mine, are almost black. With Izzy being so extrovert, it’s easy to overlook Ian, who is quieter and gentler. But he’s one of my favourite people, even though, most of the time, I have no idea what he’s really thinking.

  ‘It’s amazing to have everyone here,’ I tell him.

  He nods. ‘But there are people missing.’

  My mind flits to Marnie, and away again, because it’s too painful to think of her, then turns to my parents. They haven’t come, of course they haven’t, and I know they won’t now.

  ‘I thought my parents might come,’ I say. ‘I invited them. Stupid, I know.’

  ‘It’s not stupid,’ he replies and I want to hug him. ‘I’m sorry they haven’t turned up.’

  ‘If my fortieth birthday isn’t enough of a reason for them to hold out an olive branch, there’s not much more I can do,’ I say with a shrug. ‘I can’t believe they still hold a grudge after all these years.’

  ‘Time can either mend bridges or push them further apart,’ he says.

  I look quizzically at him. ‘What made you so wise?’

  ‘Being with Izzy, probably.’

  We laugh softly and with a quick smile, he goes to get himself another drink. I take a sip of the one he gave me, knowing it’s time to stop wishing for something that will never happen. It’s too late, anyway. What I wanted was for my parents to be part of Josh and Marnie’s lives. But Josh and Marnie have already left home, they have their own lives, which might not have room for grandparents they barely know. My mother is sixty-eight now, my father seventy-two. Ian is right, time hasn’t mended anything between us. Their hearts will only harden more with age, not soften.

  ‘Livia!’ A hand touches my arm. I turn and see Paula looking fabulous in a long floaty dress. She’s carrying silver heels in her hand and her face is flushed from dancing.

  ‘Hello Paula,’ I say, giving her a hug. ‘It’s lovely to see you. Are you having a good time?’

  ‘Yes, it’s so nice to be able to catch up with everybody from the office. I’ve missed them.’

  ‘So, how are you?’ I say, prepared to give her my full attention because I know how lonely she is now that she’s retired and has no close family nearby.

  While she talks about the book club she’s recently become a member of, I keep my eye out for Rob. At one point I see him heading my way but when he sees I’m with Paula he turns back quickly. Sh
e’s joined us a couple of times for lunch at the weekends, so he’s met her before and knows how much she loves to talk. He couldn’t possibly have anyone talk more than him, could he?

  From the lawn I hear Josh announce that the next song is someone’s song choice and that we have to guess whose it is.

  ‘I know this one,’ Paula says, as it begins to play. ‘It’s “We Are Family”.’

  She takes my hand and pulls me to where a group of people are dancing.

  ‘It has to be Kirin,’ I say. ‘Look at the way she’s grinning.’ I point at Kirin. ‘It’s Kirin!’ I shout.

  Josh gives me the thumbs up and people clap and laugh as Nelson races across the lawn, dodging around people, to scoop Kirin into his arms.

  ‘We are family,’ he sings. ‘I got all my daughters with me!’

  ‘I wish I had my sons with me,’ Paula says sadly. ‘I hate that they’re living so far away.’

  Before I can reply Jeannie comes over wanting, I’m guessing, to talk about Nelson and Kirin having another set of twins.

  ‘Five children!’ she says, laughing, and I can see Adam so clearly in her face when she smiles. ‘He’s going to have to swap that great big motorbike of his for a people carrier.’

  ‘I think he’d rather sell the house than his motorbike,’ I joke.

  ‘He’ll probably have to sell it anyway. Kirin was saying she doesn’t know where she’ll put another two babies – to which Nelson replied that there’s a perfectly good shed in the garden!’

  Somebody comes onto the terrace and I crane my neck around Jeannie, expecting to see Adam. But it’s Amy and my delight at seeing her – because I know how happy Josh will be that she’s here – is short-lived when I see the look on her face. Something has obviously upset her and I hope it’s not to do with her grandfather.

  I’m about to go over to her when she runs up the steps and tiptoes towards Josh. She puts her hands over his eyes, her frown replaced by a smile and I laugh at Josh’s surprise. But then she says something and they both look towards the kitchen, where Adam is standing in the doorway. He must have let Amy in, I realise.