She shakes her head and grabs me in the tightest embrace I can remember. She is in tears and tilts her head so I can feel her moist cheeks on the side of her forehead. I smile and clasp my hands round her back.
‘Come on, your mum and dad are waiting,’ I say, finally letting go. ‘They’ve got work in the morning…’
She wipes the tears away from her cheeks and moves away very quickly. She rushes towards the back door of the car and opens it. She gets in and Deborah starts the car. Simon winds down his passenger side window and waves.
‘Goodbye Frannie,’ he says, turning his wave into a salute. ‘Thanks for everything you’ve done.’
William and Deborah also wave. Jessica doesn’t and looks straight ahead. The car moves off and she finally glances at me unable to keep the tears at bay. The car goes down to the end of the street and then disappears into the night-time mist. I wait at the door for a few seconds, the sound of the engine and Petula Clark’s voice lingering in my head as if they were one and the same thing. It’s as if I am in a trance, but if I am, Gillian quickly jolts me out of it.
‘I’m going home now, Frannie,’ she says, tapping me on the shoulder. ‘Jack’s been with my father all night so I need to make sure they’re doing okay. And besides, I’m not sure I want to spend any more time with him…’
I almost forgot Lawrence was still inside my house – the only person left.
‘Oh come on, Gillian, just a few more minutes…’
‘No, honestly I can’t. How about we talk tomorrow at the library? I can tell you about your new volunteering role and what your duties will be. What do you say?’
‘Well yes but…’ I lower my voice. ‘He’s still inside.’
‘But he respects you more than me, so you can deal with it better,’ she says, stroking my arm and then beginning to walk away. ‘See you tomorrow.’
I offer a limp wave but don’t say anything. She walks through the gate and down the street. I walk back inside the house and let out an almighty sigh. I walk into the living room and see Lawrence sitting there in silence with the TV turned off. There is something on his lap. I recognise it as Gillian’s book about her relationship with her father.
‘This was lying on top of your radio,’ he says, raising the book in his hand. ‘I’ve never seen it before. I understand Gillian wrote it.’
‘You knew nothing about it?’
‘No-one tells me anything, Frannie, you know that.’ He looks down at the book and nods. ‘I read the first few pages. I must say it was incredibly moving. Can I borrow it to read?’
‘Can Gillian not give you a copy?’
‘I’ll be lucky to get a biscuit from her right now.’ He taps the book in his hands and stands up. ‘So, what do you say? I will bring it back immediately.’
‘Yes, no problem. I’ve read it all anyway.’
He straightens his belt and then walks to the door. ‘My wife’s an author, eh? I didn’t expect that. Maybe if she didn’t do all these things in secret we could have a future together.’
‘And have you?’
‘What?’
‘Got a future together?’
He pauses and turns the book over in his hands, looking at the blurb on the back.
‘As far as I’m concerned, absolutely. Seeing Jessica and William together like that has made me think again. I’m going to give it my best shot.’
‘It’ll have to be better than it has been so far…’
‘This…’ he says, tapping the book on his thigh, ‘…might be the missing link.’
I nod and there is a moment of acknowledgment between us. He opens the door and walks out. I hear his footsteps down the hallway and then the front door open and close. I breathe another sigh of relief and slump down on the sofa. I look around the empty room and it seems to be still vibrating with the noise of music, people, gossip and children. I get up and go to the kitchen. I make myself a cup of coffee and head upstairs to my bedroom. I get changed and sit down on my bed for a few minutes. I get off the bed and head to Donald’s study. I walk in and sit on his old office chair. The silence is all around me again. A house full of people and now just me again, all on my own. I look at Donald’s old bed and decide to snuggle up inside it. This time there will be no loneliness, no despair and no sadness. I put my head on the pillow and delight in the fortnight of memories I’ve just experienced. Golden days that may never come again. I think about Jessica – and her voice that kept me awake for all those nights. She is with me now – and so are all the other people I laughed with, cried with, and told jokes with at London 2012. We are one. Nothing can ever change that.
Acknowledgements
A massive thank you to all the London 2012 Games Makers who spoke to me before I wrote this novel – but a bigger thanks to five people in particular.
Suzette Woodward
John Fuller
Claire Wynarczyk
Amy Wharton
Claire Nash
Thanks for your patience, understanding and recollections.
Also a big thanks to the other voluntary organisations who, perhaps weren’t involved in London 2012, but still took their time out to speak to me.
A final thanks to the team at Troubador, athletes, journalists and other sporting figures for their suggestions and observations.
This may have been the most pleasurable novel I’ll ever write – but that’s down to the contributions of everyone already mentioned.
They volunteered a bit of their time…
…and for that I’m grateful.
Seventeen Gifts for Frannie and Jess Page 29
