by Beth Miller
‘Laura, let go, you’re really hurting me.’
‘You think I want to go to a new school? Leave all my friends? Leave Danny?’
She was crying properly now, and so was I.
‘Get off me, Laura!’
‘No one told me we’d be moving!’
My fingers closed over the rape alarm in my cagoule pocket, and I pulled the lid off. The siren was unbelievably loud and Laura jumped away, letting go of my hair. She covered her ears with her hands and screamed. Though the noise was dreadful it was exciting too, and I let it go on for a few more seconds before I pushed the lid back on. After the noise, the silence was weird, like I’d suddenly gone deaf. My heart was thudding. I sat down again on the wall.
Laura sat next to me and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Wow, that was loud.’
‘Rape alarm.’
She put the necklace on my lap. ‘Please keep this. It was a present.’
I stood up so it fell onto the ground. I felt as angry as I’d ever felt in my life. I stood over her. For once I was taller, because she was sitting down. I said, ‘Don’t you understand? I. Don’t. Want. It.’
‘Don’t look at me like that, Miffy.’ She snatched the necklace off the ground.
It started to rain again. I put the hood up on my cagoule. I thought how nice it would be to see Jay at shul. How safe it had felt, dancing with him.
‘I won’t ever come to your house,’ I said. ‘Not while you are there. He is my dad, not yours. I don’t want to be your sister and I don’t want to share him with you. And I don’t want you to go out with Danners any more.’
‘That’s not what he says!’ She pulled the note he’d given her out of her pocket and read it. Then she stared at me, but didn’t seem to really see me.
‘Where is he?’ She turned in the direction that Danners had gone. I stood in front of her.
‘Get out of the way, Miffy.’
‘Leave him alone.’ I held out my hand to stop her.
‘I said, get out of the way.’ She shoved me aside and started running to the corner. I fell into the road and a car I didn’t know was there swerved, and I don’t remember anything else apart from Laura screaming, and Dad running from the house in slow motion, shouting my name, and the pain.
Laura
22 JUNE 2003
The weather is perfect: sunny and warm with a gentle breeze. Glynn and Burl, bless their beautiful hides, have dragged every table in the house outside and put them end-to-end. With white sheets for tablecloths and vases of flowers placed at intervals along the length, it looks amazing, like something a family in The Godfather might sit round before they have a wedding and bump someone off.
I’m wearing my favourite yellow swirly-skirt sundress, which I’m delighted to tell you I can now get back into, with a bit of help from suck-it-in knickers. Add killer heels and red lipstick and I’m ready. And I need to be, with the fucking guest list I seem to have agreed to. Miffy, that sweet-talker. It’s only today, as everyone dashes about poaching salmons, chopping tomatoes, washing strawberries, that the craziness of the thing properly strikes me.
‘I’m panicking, Miff.’
She puts down a pile of plates and laughs. ‘So am I! We don’t have enough spoons.’
‘Nineteen people for lunch. Oh my God, what was I thinking?’
‘Half of them are kids, though. Everything’s under control, Laura. Why don’t you sit down and supervise us in comfort.’
I do as she says. I usually do. I sit in the shade of the cherry tree, and peep in at Mel, fast asleep in his Moses basket, one tiny arm flung above his head, oblivious to all the activity. I still can’t believe he’s home. It was the most amazing day of my life when at last his weight reached five pounds. The nurses and doctors were as delighted as I was. Doctor Massi kissed me, which was nice, apart from his moustache. Five pounds – now five pounds two ounces – is a light year away from where he started, though he’s still so little that he’s off the bottom of all the charts, and other mums at the clinic gasp when I tell them how old he is. But I think he’s perfect. I stroke his cheek, softly, so he doesn’t stir, then I sit back and watch my strange, disjointed family work together to prepare for this special occasion. Evie places the name cards she’s carefully handwritten; Mama rearranges the flowers; Glynn puts out jugs of Pimm’s and homemade lemonade; Huw arrives with six chairs. Thankfully, he’s tactful enough not to bring the girlfriend, though part of me is curious to get a proper look at her, especially since Glynn’s told me she has wrinkles round her eyes and a fat arse.
Huw sits next to me, gives me an avuncular kiss on the cheek. I missed him so much when he first left, but it’s already starting to fade.
‘Hey, cariad.’
‘Oh, still cariad, am I? Thanks for bringing the chairs.’
‘Not a bother. How’s the little fella enjoying being home?’ He peers into the basket as though it were some random baby in there, nothing to do with him.
‘It’s a lot nicer here than that smelly old hospital, isn’t it, Melly-baby?’
Mel stirs, wakened by our voices. I pick him up gently and cuddle him. The warmth of him against my body makes tears come into my eyes. I am becoming a right soppy girl.
‘Want a go?’ I say, offering Mel to Huw, to wind him up. I know Taaa-nee-yah has told Huw to ‘remain detached’ while we’re sorting out money and all that. It’s clear who wears the trousers in that relationship; she’s a complete ball-breaker. Must be a shock after all these years with little old me. I give them six months.
‘No, you’re all right, cariad; he’s just woken up, he’ll want you.’
Paige – Dopey Paige, our old baby-sitter – materialises at my side. ‘Shall I get the bottle ready, Laura?’ She’s wisely dropped out of university and is doing an NVQ in childcare. We’re letting her practise on us.
‘Hey, Paige, how’s the world of babies? No regrets about leaving my lovely History classes?’
‘None, Dr Ellis,’ she says. ‘To be honest with you, they was boring as fuck.’
‘Not a very forgiving young person, is she?’ Huw says mildly, watching Paige stomp into the cottage. He is used to her moral disapproval.
‘She’s very young, still sees everything in black and white, bless her.’
Paige is an absolute champ at measuring out the formula, heating the milk, testing the temperature on her wrist, all that repetitive shite. She adores it. Soon she’ll be lookingafter Mel three days a week, while I’m at college.
He nuzzles against my shoulder and starts to whimper. Paige reappears with the bottle, which Mel sucks with the strength of a Dyson, blue eyes watching me through dark lashes. I love him with an intensity I don’t remember from Evie’s babyhood. It was more of a slow burn with her. With Mel, love at first sight, no question.
Evie comes over and puts her arms round Huw and me. For a fleeting Kodak moment we are a proper little family of four. Then Burl knocks over the sunshade, and Huw gets up to help him. Evie asks me to check the name cards are in the right places. My priority is to be nowhere near Ceri or Heifer. And Miffy would like to be next to Nick. Finally, Miffy and Nick! Though all she keeps saying is, ‘Early days.’
Now here is Nick, looking handsome in a cream shirt, carrying a huge present for Mel. And then everyone’s arriving at once, bringing gifts and wine. Ceri appears, looking meek, as well she might, considering her orange Daisy Duck T-shirt – nice one, Ceri – and the fact that I haven’t spoken to her since the Great Sacking. I’ve deleted all her emails, apart from the most recent, headed ‘Bastard’, which said she’d split up with Rees. In a weak moment I agreed that Miffy could invite her today. All my favourites, aren’t I lucky, because now here’s Heifer, swept along on a sea of children. Ah! And Danny, deliciously attractive in a dove-grey suit and festive blue cuple, almost hidden behind a pile of beribboned presents and very much avoiding my eye.
Heifer’s brought her cousin Jonathan, who’s moved in with them, because they’ve obviousl
y got so much room. Heifer informed me the other week that Jonathan is the black sheep of the family, which naturally piqued my interest. He’s just out of rehab and is supposed to be making a fresh start with the guiding hand of Danny and Heifer, Edgware’s moral guardians. Jonathan, thank God, looks nothing like his cousin. In fact, he’s quite cute, with a glint of something interesting in his eye. Rather marvellously, I do a little sleight-of-hand name-card rearrangement so that he’s sitting opposite me.
Miffy gets everyone seated and the food starts appearing, and Huw goes round topping up glasses and I drink several Pimm’s too quickly because of nerves. Burl’s in charge of music, and his playlist is sentimental teenage choices such as Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday: the ideal backdrop for his attempt to chat up Atalia, Danny’s oldest girl, looking very pretty despite her modest outfit. And talking of cross-culture chatting-ups, Evie and Micah are whispering together, someone’s naughty mother having ensured they’re sitting next to each other. Evie’s had a bloody miserable few months and deserves a bit of a flirt. So does Miffy. You should see the smile she gives Nick as she sits down. I really hope he works out for her.
I do feel bad that I still haven’t put her straight about stuff. I honestly keep meaning to, please believe me, but I just haven’t found the right time to say it. She’s changed her whole life. Got herself a job here, bought a flat just along the coast in Penmaenmawr. All on the understanding that she caused my premature labour. I’m going to tell her tonight, I promise. Then she can yell at me, scream, do whatever she wants. Leave, I suppose, if she’s really pissed off. I hope to God she doesn’t, though.
Talking of awkward conversations, I’m doing well at avoiding Ceri. She’s up the other end of the table next to Huw – ha ha – listening to Heifer list every feature of interest about the Travelodge in Llandudno where they’re staying. Did you know you can fit three adults and six children into their biggest family room? Did you know they can get in special kosher food, sent from Manchester? I imagine Ceri wincing every time ‘Llandudno’ is mentioned, thinking of happy times there with Rees.
I glance at Jonathan, and though he’s in conversation with Mama, he winks at me, which makes me laugh. I turn to Danny. ‘So how are you?’
He smiles past my ear. ‘Really good. And how is this little one? May I?’ He reaches out for Mel and burbles, ‘Who’s a sweet little fellow?’
Mama brings out strawberry pavlova and Huw pours more drinks. I think some of the children are getting Pimm’s instead of lemonade, but even Heifer doesn’t seem to mind; she is drinking Pimm’s herself, by accident possibly, and as she’s barely eating, nothing being kosher enough, she is squiffy and keeps effusively kissing her kids, making them squirm.
Miffy stands up, taps her glass and calls, ‘A toast!’ All faces turn to her.
‘We have so many things to celebrate,’ Miffy says, smiling round the table, ‘I hardly know where to start.’
Everyone whoops. Christ, what on earth is in that Pimm’s? Other than Pimm’s?
‘Let’s begin with the reason we’re all here today. To Mel!’
Everyone turns to Danny, for Mel is cosied up against his chest. Lucky baby.
‘Welcome home, Melvin Michael Ellis, you gorgeous boy,’ Miffy says. ‘Thanks for giving us an excuse to have this party. You were only sprung a week ago, but you’ve already settled in as if you’ve always lived here.’
Danny passes Mel back to me and I hold him up high so everyone can see him.
‘To Mel!’ we chorus. ‘Welcome home!’
Heifer leans across to Paige and says, ‘The evil eye, you know. Made him come too early.’ She straightens up and says more loudly, ‘So bonny. When you think how ill he was, the little bubbeleh.’
Miffy taps her glass again and says, ‘And now Evie.’
Evie gives an embarrassed wave. Micah smiles at her in a way that suggests he is squeezing her hand under the table. I know they still write to each other. I also know Evie sends her letters to Micah’s friend’s address, so he doesn’t have to explain who his correspondent is at home, because I saw the envelope on her desk the other day. I hope you’re impressed I didn’t even pick it up. Heifer will never allow them to have a relationship, though. Over her dead body.
I’m willing to risk Heifer’s dead body.
‘Next week, Evie turns twelve,’ says Miffy. ‘Has there ever been a more amazing, beautiful, incredible twelve-year-old?’
‘Me, next year!’ calls Atalia, and everyone laughs.
‘This family does have wonderful children,’ says Mama.
Ah yes, Mama. This is one big happy family.
‘Evie’s had a tough time lately,’ says Miffy, keeping the toasts a bit more real than I’d like.
The younger children, getting bored, start running round the table. Paige sweeps them off into the house. To my relief, Miffy doesn’t elaborate further about Evie’s tough times but just sings her praises for somewhat longer than necessary. Then we all cry, ‘To Evie!’
‘And now a toast to our hostess.’
Oh God, everyone’s looking at me. I’m sure my mascara’s smudged. How annoying. I pull Mel closer, press my cheek against his. He smells of Danny.
‘This hasn’t been the easiest of years for Laura. But now she’s got her lovely baby, a great business idea, and she’s going back to college. And here I am: new home, new job, and I’ve met some very special people, all because of her.’ She smiles at Nick, then turns to me. ‘Fate’s lent a hand and I love my new life. To Laura!’
I swallow hard as everyone repeats, ‘To Laura!’ I turn away as I can’t bear to see how fondly Miffy looks at me, and catch Danny’s eye for the first time today. There is a flicker between us, tiny as a blink. I see it in the widening of his pupils, the tiny beads of sweat on his forehead, the curve of his mouth. Then he puts down his glass, looks away, and the moment is gone. For ever.
‘Finally,’ Miffy says, ‘to my big brother, darling Danners, who turned thirty-nine last week!’ She’s in a very confessional mood today; starts listing all the support Danny’s given her, from her own divorce to, oh God, that of their parents, taking in all points between. I suppose she’s a bit plastered. She makes a comment about all the ‘additional difficulties’ surrounding their parents’ split, and I tremble that she might decide to chuck in the abortion as one of the many points of interest on Danny’s emotional CV, but thank God she doesn’t.
‘To Danny!’ I say, as I can’t stand that ‘Danners’ name, and smile across at him. Unfortunately, he is mouthing ‘I love you’ at Heifer. She looks flushed. Slightly pretty. Christ, what am I saying?
I pass Mel to Mama and stand up, to propose my own toast: to Miffy for her excellent party organisation and for supporting me so wonderfully the last few months. When we raise our glasses, her eyes meet mine and she gives me her megawatt Marilyn smile.
Everyone calls her by a different name:
‘To Miffy!’
‘Melissa!’
‘Mel!’
‘Lissa!’
After this, Paige and Burl serve coffee, and everyone starts moving around, swapping seats, chatting. Danny goes over to Miffy and they hug each other. Mama sits next to me in Danny’s vacated seat and says, ‘That went off very well, I thought.’
‘Some of those toasts were a bit near the knuckle.’
‘Ah, there is no harm in being honest, Laura. You always like to pretend everything is fine all the time.’
‘Wonder where I get that from, Mama.’
She laughs. She’s lightened up a lot this last couple of months. I’d like to put that down to her love for Mel, but suspect, knowing Mama, it’s more likely to be down to having reconnected with my father when she was in Spain at Easter. I’m hoping nothing will come of it, but she’s in touch regularly with him, has got Evie to teach her how to use email. She’s keen for me to meet him again. ‘He’s so changed,’ she tells me, ‘so mellow.’ And so available. Mama can’t bear her life without a man i
n it. Some things never change.
‘I’m going to take my little bebita inside,’ she says. ‘He is getting too hot.’ I watch Mel as she carries him away; he is so gorgeous.
Talking of gorgeous, Jonathan catches my eye and says, ‘Terrific party.’
‘Really glad you could come,’ I say, putting an accidental emphasis on ‘come’. Think I’m a bit tiddly myself. ‘How are you liking it at Danny and Hella’s?’
‘I’m hoping it’s just a stopgap. I could really do with getting away from London altogether. I can see why Melissa moved here – it’s beautiful.’
‘Rents are pretty cheap, too.’
‘Are they? That’s very interesting.’
I offer to pour him some wine but he shakes his head. ‘Keeping off everything at the moment.’ He indicates his glass of sparkling water. ‘Being good.’
‘Oh, what a shame.’
‘It’s a bit boring. Still, you know, in the right company …’
Heifer materialises heftily behind him and gives me her evil eye. ‘Johnno, can you give me a hand with the kids?’
‘Sure, Hells.’ Great new nickname for Heifer. ‘I’ll be back,’ he mouths at me.
A moment later, Ceri slides into the seat next to me, harshing my mellow, as Glynn would say. ‘Hi, Laura. Thanks for inviting me.’
‘It was Miffy’s idea.’ I gulp my coffee and burn my throat. ‘How’s the shop?’
‘It’s okay. Listen, I’ve felt so awful since I had to let you go.’
‘You didn’t “let me go”, Ceri. You sacked me. Because of your boyfriend.’
She stares at her hands. ‘I really messed up,’ she says. ‘You know the Jenny-and-Paul dinner in April. The one you didn’t go to?’
‘Yeah, well, I had a few minor things going on then – my husband shagging someone else, my premature baby in hospital … Lame excuses, I know, but I just didn’t feel like going somehow.’
‘God, I’m so sorry, Laura.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’
I look round the garden. Danny’s standing under the cherry tree with Nick; Heifer and Jonathan are swinging small laughing children round; and Miffy and Huw are at the far end of the table, talking intently. Huw glances at me and I look away.
