Five Unforgivable Things

by Vivien Brown

  They hadn’t gone for anything too different, in the end. The nativity story wasn’t one you could really mess around with, after all, and the new costumes and scenery alone were enough to lift the whole thing to a new level, replacing the old rather drab tea towels and lumps of wobbly cardboard the school had apparently been using for years. She and Ollie had had great fun sorting through three tatty old brown boxes marked ‘Nativity’ and emptying a good ninety per cent of their contents into the bin.

  She knew that you couldn’t just use songs plucked from the charts, or pinch someone else’s script, either. There were copyright and plagiarism claims to think about, or a whole lot of fees to pay to get proper permission. So, it had just seemed to make more sense to write their own script and use the good old Christmas carols that everybody was familiar with. With the show only a matter of weeks away, there were still a lot of loose ends to sort out and tie together, but she felt really proud of how it was going. It was working wonders on Ollie too. His drinking was almost non-existent now, and he had the light back in his eyes. She ached to tell him about Laura and the baby-to-be, but while he remained oblivious and sober, and thankfully much too busy to meet any other women, she forced herself to stick to her promise. Tell all now and Laura really might do as she’d threatened and disappear for good.

  Beth dragged herself up and got ready for work. Jenny’s door was open, across the landing, revealing an unmade heap of a bed but no sign of her sister, who would have gone off to get some of her elderly clients up out of their own beds long ago. When she went downstairs, her mum was flopping about in the kitchen, still in pyjamas and slippers, stirring a pan of scrambled eggs with mysterious green bits dotted amongst the yellow, and Natalie was sitting quietly at the table, sipping a coffee, her head buried in yet another bridal magazine.

  ‘Want eggs?’ Mum asked, not looking up.

  ‘No, thanks. Cereal will do me. What are you looking at now, Nat? It’s a bit late to be drooling over dresses when yours is already bought and hanging in your wardrobe!’

  Natalie grinned. ‘No, not dresses. Just thinking about what to do with my hair, that’s all.’

  ‘But I thought you’d be letting me worry about that. Hair’s what I do.’

  ‘Of course you’ll be actually doing it, Beth, but there’s no harm in getting ideas, is there? Something for you to work with. You know, inspiration …’

  ‘Right.’ Beth poured herself a bowl of Coco Pops and sat down, adding milk from the open bottle on the table.

  ‘Oh, don’t be like that. You’ll do a lovely job, I know you will, but …’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘Could we have a trial run, do you think? Give me a make-over. You know, hair up or hair down? Maybe something with flowers woven in or a tiara on top. Make-up too, to see what I like. What suits me.’

  Beth put her spoon down. ‘Of course. That’s what I would do for any bride. What made you think I wouldn’t for you? We’ll make a start at the weekend if you like.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s just that you’ve been so pre-occupied with Ollie and his school show that I wasn’t sure if … well, you know.’

  Beth shook her head. ‘You do get some funny ideas in your head sometimes. You’re my sister, for heaven’s sake. I’ll always have time for you. And it will be my number one mission to make you the most beautiful bride this side of the Hollywood Hills. Well, the one with the most beautiful hair anyway. There’s not a lot I can do about the rest of you!’

  ‘Charming!’ Natalie reached over and batted her on the wrist.

  ‘Only joking, Nat. Honest! Now, shut up and let me eat my brekkie or I’ll be late for work, and …’ She looked at her watch. ‘As it’s almost a quarter to nine, so will you, if you don’t get a move on.’

  ‘What? It’s not, is it?’

  She watched Natalie go into sudden panic mode, gulp down the last dregs of her coffee and wheel herself to the door.

  ‘See you later.’

  Natalie nodded and disappeared into the hall.

  ‘You sure I can’t tempt you?’ Mum said, piling a dollop of egg onto a plate. ‘There’s lots of spinach in it. Good for building up your strength.’

  ‘I think I’ll pass, thanks all the same. Spinach and me don’t get on too well. And I’m not sure I need building up. If I wanted Popeye muscles I’d go to the gym.’

  ‘Oh, yeah? When was the last time you went to a gym?’ Mum laughed and started forking her eggs into her mouth. ‘The same day I spotted Elvis Presley in Tesco’s.’

  ‘Very funny.’ Beth stifled a giggle because, actually, it was quite funny. ‘What are you up today, anyway?’ Since her mum had retired from her job at the bank the year before, Beth wasn’t at all sure how she spent her days. There had been no discernible increase in housework, if the dusty windowsills and occasional hanging cobweb were anything to go by, and she’d never been one for watching a lot of TV.

  ‘Oh, this and that. I thought I might go and see your father, actually.’

  ‘Really? Why?’

  ‘No reason. Just that I’ve been a bit worried about him, that’s all. Especially now he’s upset Natalie over this wedding business. There’s no excuse for it that I can see, and I intend to tell him so.’

  ‘But, what about Fanny, or Franny, or whatever her name is?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think she’ll be there. That little dalliance is long over. Well, it was never going to last, was it? She must have been a good ten years younger than him, and, let’s be honest, he’s no catch these days, is he?’

  ‘Mum!’

  ‘Well, he’s not. He’s let himself go to seed these last few years. All that grey hair, and the paunch. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t even been cutting his toenails. They’re probably making holes in his socks by now.’

  Beth laughed. ‘Why on earth would you think that?’

  ‘Because, in all the years we were together, I never saw him do it once. Said he found it hard to reach, so it was always my job.’

  ‘Cutting his nails? Yuk. How could you?’

  ‘Love, I suppose,’ she said, wistfully, taking her empty plate to the sink. ‘Shame it didn’t last. But then, what relationship does these days? Take you and Jake …’

  ‘I’d rather not, thank you. That particular ship has well and truly sailed. And, besides, I’ve met someone else.’

  ‘You have? And I’m the last to know about it, as usual?’

  Beth bit her lip. What had she gone and said that for? Sean had been an interesting distraction, that was all, and she was looking forward to seeing more of him as they worked together on the play, but as she’d told herself only this morning, there was no future in it.

  ‘Nothing to know, really. Just forget I said it. And give Dad my love, won’t you? But only if he agrees to come to the wedding and give Natalie away. If he doesn’t, he can whistle for it!’

  ***

  Weekends were always super busy, and Beth didn’t usually cut men’s hair. She was more of a curly perm and foils specialist, leaving the more basic washes and trims to Ellie, the salon junior, but this morning Ellie had interrupted her much-needed morning break in the tiny staff room at the back and was insistent that a new male client had asked for Beth specially.

  Putting down her magazine and finishing her tea, Beth popped her head around the half-open door, purely out of curiosity and all prepared to say no, but was pleasantly surprised to see Sean Harper standing there at the reception desk. There was a trickle of rain water running slowly down his neck and into his collar, and his brown eyes seemed to sparkle as he turned his face towards her.

  ‘Beth! I hope you don’t mind, but you did say you worked here, and I thought you might be up for a coffee or something?’

  ‘You don’t really want a haircut then?’

  ‘Afraid not. That was just a ruse! So, coffee? What do you say?’

  ‘I’d love to, but I’ve only just had a break and my next client is due any minute.’

  ‘Sorr
y. Silly of me, to think you could just walk out any time you like. And on a Saturday too, when you must be run off your feet. But it’s tipping down out there and …’

  ‘Look, come through to the back and I’ll make you a coffee here. Only the instant stuff, but it will keep you off the streets. At least until the rain stops. And I can pop through and join you while I’m waiting for the perm to take.’

  ‘Take?’

  ‘Oh, you don’t want to know, believe me. It’s a chemical thing.’

  ‘Beth, I’m a teacher. I may be teaching a bit of everything while I’m over here, but I actually specialise in science. I do know a bit about chemical things.’ He grinned. ‘And a fair bit about biological things too.’

  For some reason, although she knew he was only teasing, she felt herself starting to blush and quickly led him through to the staff room. ‘Milk?’ she asked, flipping the switch on the kettle and hunting for a clean mug that didn’t smell of damp towels. ‘Sugar?’

  She half expected him to say the old ‘I’m sweet enough already’ line, but perhaps that was just an English thing. Who knew what quips Australians might come out with? Not that she wouldn’t love him to stick around long enough to find out.

  ‘Beth,’ Ellie called from behind the door. ‘Your lady’s here.’

  ‘You go.’ Sean had settled himself in one of the two tatty armchairs crammed side by side in the small room and had picked up the same magazine article Beth had been reading just minutes before. ‘How to bed any man in the zodiac.’

  ‘I can sort out my own coffee,’ he called after her. ‘Oh, and I’m Aquarius by the way. Just in case you were wondering.’

  ***

  Natalie’s hair looked a picture. They had tried piling it high in a mass of curls and had used all manner of clips and nets, but nothing had looked quite right. In the end, Beth had given her sister the lightest of cuts, shaping the hair so it flicked under at chin level at the front and fell smoothly to her shoulders at the back. With a row of tiny white satin flowers pinned in here and there, and a good spray of lacquer to hold everything in place, both girls were finally happy with the result.

  ‘Oh, Beth, I wasn’t sure about not wearing a veil, but now I know I made the right decision. The hair’s just perfect without, and now it’s done I don’t want it undone! It looks so lovely.’ Natalie was waving a hand mirror about so she could admire herself from all angles. ‘I think I’ll sleep with it just the way it is!’

  ‘You do and it will be an absolute mess by morning. Not to mention how squashed all the flowers will be. We’ll take some photos, but it will have to come out. Oh, don’t worry, we’ll leave it in for a while, while we have a go at the make-up, okay? See the whole picture …’

  Natalie nodded, then nodded a bit harder until her head was bobbing up and down like a jack-in-a-box.

  ‘Nat! What are you doing?’

  ‘Just testing. Making sure it will stay in place, no matter what happens on the day.’

  ‘Well, failing a force-ten gale or you two having the sort of wedding-night sex I’ve only ever seen in porn films, I don’t think that hair’s going anywhere, do you? Now what colour eye shadow do you fancy?’

  ‘Let’s start with something pale, shall we? Pink, even. To match the bridesmaids’ dresses and the flowers. I don’t fancy going all dark and broody. The Goth look’s not really me, is it?’

  ‘Right. And maybe a bit of glitter. Oh, don’t look so worried. I’m not talking about Christmas-tree shiny, just something subtle. And, if it doesn’t work, we’ll just scrub it all off and try something else. That’s what a trial run’s all about.’

  ‘Great. I’m in your capable hands. Oh, it is nice to have a sister in the beauty business. Some of these firms you see advertising on the internet charge the earth.’

  ‘And what makes you think I don’t? I don’t remember saying anything about this being a freebie.’

  ‘Oh …’ Natalie’s face in the mirror had gone decidedly white.

  ‘I’m only kidding, you numpty! Of course it’s free.’ She picked up a tiny brush and rootled it around in a tub of powder shadow. ‘Now, pink, you say?’

  ‘Beth?’ Natalie said, after a few moments’ silence during which Beth had been concentrating on her task and Natalie had been desperately trying to keep still.

  ‘Mmmm?’

  ‘What you said about porn films. Have you actually watched one?’

  ‘Where did that question come from?’ Beth stopped what she was doing, a mascara brush held aloft.

  ‘Only, it’s just that … well, I think I’ve probably led a bit of a sheltered life. You know, what with the chair and everything, and Phil being my first – my only – boyfriend. I do worry sometimes that I’m not, well, you know, worldly-wise. Not exciting enough …’

  ‘In bed, you mean? Nat, I don’t think your Phil would be marrying you if he wasn’t happy with … well, the way things are.’

  ‘But in these films – not that I’ve ever seen one, but you read stuff, don’t you? In these films, girls do things that I probably couldn’t do, even if I wanted to. Or if Phil wanted me to. Get into positions I just wouldn’t be able to attempt.’

  ‘Because you’re disabled, you mean? God, Nat, I may have legs that work but that doesn’t mean I’d want to start twisting them in knots to copy some porn film. They’re not real life, you know. They’re just fantasy, really, aren’t they? What men might like to watch or think about sometimes but probably wouldn’t dream of actually doing. Ever. Most of them are quite happy with very normal cuddly everyday sex, with the woman they love, in their own beds, after watching Match of the Day.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Yes, I think. Oh, Nat, I have no idea what’s put all this nonsense into your head, but if it worries you, then talk to Phil about it. It’s him you’re marrying, not me. Now shut your eyes and let me get at those lashes. You blink in the next two minutes and I’ll throttle you.’

  Chapter 31

  Kate, 1989

  It had been one of those days. Ollie had been sick several times and was wheezing enough for me to take him to the doctor, who’d diagnosed yet another chest infection and wanted to send the poor little mite straight back to the hospital.

  ‘It can happen, Mrs Campbell,’ he’d said. ‘Not unusual when babies are born so early. In fact, you should count yourself lucky it’s just the one. Imagine if all three were poorly. And it’s nothing too terrible. I’m only doing this as a precaution, really, because he’s still so young. Nothing to fret about.’ He patted my hand, the little bow tie he always wore wobbling at his throat, and let me sit in the waiting room, the cumbersome triple pushchair we’d bought to replace the two doubles almost completely blocking the door, while I rang Dan and asked him to come and get us.

  And then, when we’d reluctantly left Ollie in the children’s ward, with at least three nurses fussing and cooing over him, and Dan had gone back to the office to finish off some paperwork, and I had the others tucked up asleep at home, the phone rang.

  ‘It’s Trevor,’ Mum said, before I’d even said hello, her voice so small and breathless I hardly recognised who was speaking. ‘He’s had a heart attack.’

  ‘Oh, no. How bad is it? Is he alive?’ I may not have been over-fond of Trevor but that didn’t mean I’d wish him gone.

  ‘Alive, yes, but it’s quite bad, I think. We’re at the hospital now. A&E. They’re examining him. He’s as white as a sheet, Kate. More grey, actually. And he was in such pain, doubled over, almost passing out with it. I didn’t know what to do. I just sat and held his hand while I waited for the ambulance. I felt so helpless. Can you come, Kate? Please? I’m so scared I didn’t do enough and he might die. What will happen then? How will I carry on without him? I don’t think I can face this on my own.’

  I didn’t dare drag Dan out of work again, and he had the car. I couldn’t think of a single person I could call at such short notice to watch the girls, so I bundled them both up warm, strapped the
m into their pushchair and did something I had never tried before. I took them on the bus. I can’t say it was easy, what with hordes of schoolchildren chattering nineteen to the dozen and scrabbling for seats and me not even sure I was on the right bus. Plenty of people had barged past me at the bus stop before one kind man had stopped to help lift the pushchair up onto the platform, but just five stops later we got off outside the hospital and found our way to A&E. I just hoped we weren’t too late.

  ‘Ah, yes. Mr Brookfield …’ The receptionist studied a piece of paper on the desk in front of her before going on, ‘was transferred up to Dixon Ward just half an hour ago. Fourth floor, but it’s past visiting hours now, so they may not let you in until the evening.’

  I looked at my watch. It was ten past four.

  As we waited for the lift, I couldn’t help wondering how Ollie was doing. I was planning on coming back later anyway, once Dan was home, but deep down I knew I shouldn’t have left him at all, not even for a few hours, and if it wasn’t for keeping the others out of infection’s way, I wouldn’t have done. Still, knowing he was here, just a couple of floors above me, all I really wanted to do was run back to him. But I owed it to Mum to be at her side now. If Trevor was out of A&E and onto a ward, that must surely mean he was on the mend, so I might not need to stay with her for long, and Trevor, assuming he was awake, probably wouldn’t want me there any more than I wanted to be there myself. I pressed button four for Dixon Ward and tried, just for now, to push Ollie out of my thoughts.

  They did let me in, on the understanding it was just for a few minutes and that the babies were quiet. ‘There are very sick people in here,’ the nurse at the desk reiterated. As if I couldn’t guess that, what with it being the cardiac ward. Luckily, both girls drifted off to sleep after the excitement of the bus ride and the only noise they were making was a gentle snuffle.

  They told me Trevor was in the bed at the far end, near the window. The curtains were closed around it, with just Mum’s old favourite brown handbag, where she’d dumped it on the floor, showing underneath, so I knew I had found the right bed. There wasn’t room for the pushchair so I left it just outside the curtain and slipped in. Mum stood up, shakily, a balled-up soggy tissue in her hand, and hugged me. ‘Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,’ she said.