by Shari Low
‘Don’t worry. I think we’ve already established that weak and pathetic may be a family trait,’ Yvie offered.
‘Maybe,’ Marina went on. ‘It just felt so good. Graham and I, well, I don’t think there’s been anything there for a long time.’
Yvie’s eyebrows went even higher. ‘Really? But you always seem so… sorted.’
‘I guess we are. We’re a good team. We know how to work together, but that’s only one side of it. I’m not saying it’s just his fault, because it isn’t. He switched off and became more and more enmeshed in his work, in his life, status, his network of friends, and I did my job, which was to build this perfect life, perfect family, make us all succeed. But somewhere along the way we lost sight of each other. Forgot to be in love any more.’
‘And you didn’t think about leaving him?’
Marina had been staring at the floor, hoping she could hide the discomfort on her face, but Verity’s question made her head whip up. ‘And give the kids a life like ours?’
They had to know what that meant. Insecurity. Instability. Fending for themselves. A complete lack of emotional support that damaged them all in so many different ways.
‘But you’re not like Mum and Graham isn’t like Dad,’ Yvie pointed out softly.
‘I know, but still… I want them to know that they’re safe. I want them to trust us, trust that their lives will always be okay, that nothing will change, nothing bad will happen. I push them, sometimes too hard, I know, but I’m always right there when they need me. I can’t even contemplate an alternative to that.’
She could see that they had questions, objections even, but only Yvie spoke, and it wasn’t to argue.
‘But what about you? Who’s been there for you?’
Marina smiled. ‘You, mostly. When I call you most nights to have a moan and a rant, that’s me just wanting someone to listen. I love you for doing that. I know I’ve been a pain in the arse to you.’
‘You haven’t,’ Yvie had the grace to argue. ‘But me listening isn’t enough. You have to have more than that.’
How come the youngest of the sisters was the one with the most insight, Marina wondered. And yet, all this time she was unravelling too.
‘I do. And that’s how it began. I told myself that the first one would be a one-off, but it wasn’t. There was Ibiza…’
‘Oh, my God, you shagged that French guy you kept talking to?’ Verity was gobsmacked.
‘And there were others.’ She wasn’t going to get specific and she absolutely wasn’t going to tell them that she had even found herself attracted to Ned. Yvie didn’t need to hear his name again right now.
‘Anytime I got the opportunity,’ she shrugged shamefully, hearing how sordid it sounded. ‘I’d make excuses to stay over in Edinburgh after I dropped Annabelle off at school, or the night before I picked her up, and I’d go to the hotel bar – a different one each time – and just sit there. It didn’t always end in sex though. Sometimes it happened, sometimes it didn’t. I know it doesn’t make sense, but the only way I can explain it is that I just wanted to feel something. All day every day, I went through the motions for everyone else, I was mum, I was wife, and I just wanted someone to notice that I was more than that. I just wanted to feel like me. Like I said, it wasn’t the sex that even mattered – although, if I’m honest, that gave me a thrill and became completely intoxicating. Sometimes it was just talking to someone, the contact, the feeling of freedom that I was with someone who didn’t need anything from me.’
Yvie sighed. ‘Christ, we’re shite sisters. We should have been able to do that for you, to give you that.’
‘How could you, when I didn’t tell you it was missing?’
‘We should have seen it, though.’ Verity went on, ‘You’ve just always been so organised, so capable and you seemed so together. I thought you were the strongest of us all.’
‘I don’t think I am,’ Marina said, meaning it. ‘I think I just learned really young that I had to make it look that way. I know now that I have to make some decisions though. I need to fix this. Fix everything. Fix my life. And not because I need it to be perfect. Just because I need to be happy.’
‘We’ll help you,’ Yvie promised and Marina smiled. She absolutely felt that they would. Right now she felt a closeness to both these women that she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before.
‘And I’ll help you too,’ she said to Yvie. ‘I remembered earlier that this happened before…’
Yvie nodded. ‘A few times when I was growing up. The first one was right after Dad…’ She didn’t finish. ‘Mum was at her wits’ end, but back then the doctor just said I’d grow out of it and I guess in a way he was right. The last one before now was when I was thirteen or fourteen. I think they’ve just started again because I reached a low point and my anxiety flared. You know, I’m clearly the worst nurse – I couldn’t even formulate a plan to help myself.’
‘Actually, I think I can help you a little,’ Verity offered. ‘I’ve been seeing a therapist…’
Marina almost fainted and she could see Yvie’s surprise too. Verity. The most insular, private woman she’d ever met was seeing a therapist.
‘… Because you lot were right – God, I hate saying that. I was getting that compulsive way again, obsessively running and fixating on things. I think the whole Ned thing was part of that too. I’m not looking for sympathy or using that as an excuse though, because the honest truth is that it was my choice to behave like that and I knew it was wrong, but I still did it. Anyway, I’ve been doing CBT and it’s really helped me. I could put you in touch with my therapist, if you want to give it a try?’
Yvie nodded. ‘I do. I’m really proud of you for getting help with it, V. But I have to say, I couldn’t be any more shocked if you told me you were picking up random guys for sex.’ She said that with a teasing grin in Marina’s direction, making her laugh again. Only Yvie could take your sorest spot and soothe it into something funny.
There was a knock at the door, and Marina got up to answer it. The room service waiter pushed in a trolley, wedging the door open with it and then lifted the individual items from the top, placing them on the table in the corner of the room. While he did so, Marina spotted the guy she’d been with earlier leaving her room. He must have waited to see if she’d come back, then given up and got dressed. He managed an embarrassed wave, then disappeared down the corridor.
The sisters fell silent while the waiter worked, pausing their conversation until he’d left.
Marina handed them each their coffee, then placed a plate heaped with bagels on the floor between them.
Yvie lifted one from the top. ‘You know, tonight has been a bit of a nightmare, but weirdly I feel so much better because everything is out in the open.’
Marina picked up the next one. ‘Not everything. You know we have to tell Zoe all of it. And I know it’s the guy she’s in love with, but when she understands who he is that will change. She’ll be as pissed off as we are.’
‘You’re right,’ Yvie said, ‘She needs to know. As soon as we get home, we have to tell her so she can get shot of him.’
Verity’s nodding head indicated that she agreed too. Although, the fact that she was reaching for a bagel and she hadn’t eaten a carb in the last decade, did suggest she was finding it emotionally difficult. ‘I was planning on speaking to her tomorrow,’ she said, staring at the buttery treat in her hand, ‘but it’s probably best to do it at home so she can process it without him around.’
Marina was about to concur, when there was a pinging noise, actually a double ping, one nearby, one further away.
‘That’s the group chat,’ Verity said. ‘Zoe must have sent us a message. My phone is through there,’ she gestured through the adjoining door to her room. ‘But here…’ she reached over to the handbag on the floor where Yvie had dropped it, pulled out her phone and tossed it to her.
Marina watched as Yvie read the screen, then choked, spluttered, gasped. At f
irst, she thought another panic attack was kicking off, but no.
Yvie turned the screen to face them.
‘Zoe?’ Marina asked. She wasn’t wearing her glasses, so she couldn’t make it out.
‘Yep.’ Yvie’s voice was strangled, as if she couldn’t get the words out, but she kept trying. ‘Her text says that a few hours ago, she got married to Ned.’
36
The Girls – Christmas 1999
Yvie had been staring out of the window for the last hour, her breath misting up the Santa they’d drawn on the glass with spray snow a couple of weeks ago. Where was he? He’d said he’d be round first thing this morning and it was almost lunchtime now.
‘Yvie, come on, how about a game of Pictionary? Or Scrabble?’ Marina suggested, but Yvie shook her head. She knew her sister was just trying to distract her.
‘Not without Dad.’ She’d said the same yesterday, the first Christmas Day they hadn’t played board games because, like now, it just wouldn’t feel right without him. None of this felt right. The house was still all decorated, the leftover turkey was in the fridge, her Quality Street tin was half full, and yet nothing was the same as all the other years when Dad was still here.
‘We’ve got to make new traditions,’ Mum had explained, when she broke the news over dinner a few weeks ago. Gregor was sitting in Dad’s old chair at the dining table. That still made Yvie sad. ‘Your Dad and I have had a chat and we’re going to alternate Christmas Day from now on.’
Yvie was pretty sure what ‘alternate’ meant – she might only be ten but she wasn’t daft. Still, she wasn’t sure exactly what would be happening.
Zoe had got in there with the question first. ‘So how will that work then?’
Her mum had taken a bite of her steak pie before she answered. ‘Well, this year, you’ll have Christmas here with me and Gregor, and Dad will come and pick you all up on Boxing Day and you can take whatever things you want to over to his house – like your games and stuff. Then next year, you’ll go to Dad’s flat on Christmas morning and spend Boxing Day here.’
‘But why can’t we just all be together?’ Yvie had blurted. ‘Why can’t Dad come here too? He’s okay with Gregor, he told me that and he wouldn’t lie.’
‘Because it’s not fair to Gregor,’ Mum had insisted. ‘Or me, for that matter. We want to cherish these first Christmases together as a couple.’
‘I suppose what’s fair for us doesn’t come into it?’ Marina had asked from the kitchen, where she was scooping Angel Delight into bowls.
Mum had ignored her. That was it settled then. It hadn’t been mentioned again, not even yesterday, apart from when Dad called them in the morning to wish them a Merry Christmas. He’d sounded sad, Yvie thought, and she’d wanted to run all the way to his house to give him a hug and tell him she loved him. Of course, Mum wouldn’t let her.
Now, he was hours late and Mum was getting more annoyed as the day went on.
‘Do you think he’s okay?’
‘Of course he is,’ Mum answered, getting up from the chair and heading towards the kitchen. Yvie guessed that she was going to phone their dad again and ask him why he wasn’t here yet. She’d been calling every hour but said it was just ringing out.
‘It’s all your fault anyway,’ Verity muttered in her mum’s direction. ‘If you’d just let him come around yesterday, then this wouldn’t have happened.’
It wasn’t often that Yvie agreed with one of Verity’s nasty comments, but this time she did.
The afternoon passed and by four o’clock it was getting dark and Yvie knew he wasn’t coming. The realisation and the worry about why he wasn’t there made her feel sick in her stomach. Marina and Zoe had even got so annoyed that they’d ignored Mum’s orders and sneaked out of the back door and ran over to his house, but there had been no answer.
So Yvie sat. Saying silent prayers that he would be okay, the way the teacher always told them to do in school.
Dear God, I promise that I’ll be really good and I’ll make my own bed and I won’t make anyone upset or cross with me if you will just please make my dad be fine.
It was after 8 o’clock when she thought God had been listening, because the doorbell finally rang.
‘Dad!’ she yelped, jumping off the chair and dashing into the hall so that she was first to reach the door. She swung it open. ‘Where have you been?’
Her question trailed off as she saw that it wasn’t Dad. Standing outside were two police officers, a man and a woman, both of them with very serious faces.
‘Hi,’ the policewoman said. She had a friendly voice, but Yvie could tell she wasn’t happy. ‘Is your mum in?’
Yvie had that horrible sick feeling again.
‘Is this about my dad? Is he okay?’ the words were tumbling out, and she could feel the tears rushing to her eyes and starting to overflow.
Two arms went around her shoulders. ‘Yvie, come back here,’ Marina coaxed her gently.
‘No!’ Yvie yelled. ‘Not until they tell me what’s happened to Dad.’ She was sobbing now, so hard she could barely speak.
Marina pulled her right back. ‘Come in,’ she told the officers, who then stepped into the hallway, just as Verity and Zoe came down the stairs to see what all the fuss was about. Both of them immediately looked worried, which made Yvie cry even harder.
‘Sorry, I was in the kitchen.’ Another voice in the packed hall. Her mum. Who hadn’t been in the kitchen at all – she’d been sitting outside the back door, huddled under a blanket with Gregor, while he had a cigarette. ‘Yvie, stop that crying. Can I help you, officers?’
‘Mrs Danton?’ The policeman this time.
‘Yes.’
The policeman glanced around at all the girls before he spoke again.
‘I wonder if there’s somewhere we can go in private? We’d like to talk to you about your husband, William Danton.’
Her mum didn’t correct them, even though she’d had a party a couple of weeks ago to celebrate her divorce being final.
Yvie felt Marina’s arms go tightly around her in a protective hug, and then she saw Zoe and Verity’s tears begin to fall too. She knew then that God hadn’t been listening to her prayers at all.
37
Zoe – One Month Later
The wedding venue was exquisite, the music was divine, and the wall of flowers behind the celebrant was utterly breathtaking. Zoe felt the tears pool in her eyes as she stood at the front of the aisle next to the man she loved. The man she used to love.
She’d been thinking about this moment for the last month and now it was here. The last time she was at a wedding, it was her own. Now, Tom was getting married and it couldn’t be more different from two people standing on top of a roof and taking a leap of faith.
Once upon a time, she’d thought she might be his bride, but here she was, his best man, wearing a perfectly tailored, pale blue, trouser suit that matched the dresses worn by the four bridesmaids who were walking down the aisle towards them, the strains of a string quartet playing Barbara Streisand’s ‘Evergreen’ in the background.
Behind them came Chrissie, utterly divine in a satin alabaster, forties style dress, with a shawl neck and a gentle flare to the floor, on the arm of Ben, the son she and Tom had made together when they were teenagers. Although the two of them had lost touch before Chrissie found out she was pregnant and Tom hadn’t found out about Ben until he was almost a teenager himself, if Tom had bumped into him in the street, he would have known this boy was his son. He was Tom’s double.
As Zoe watched Chrissie come towards them, the biggest smile lighting up her gorgeous face, she spotted her family – Marina with Graham, Yvie with Kay as her plus-one, Verity flying solo, next to her mum and Nigel – a few rows from the back of the function suite, grinning as wedding guests do. They’d all known Tom for the best part of ten years and loved him as Zoe’s friend and colleague, then as her boyfriend, and she knew they’d love him still as Chrissie’s husband.
As Chrissie reached the end of the aisle, Ben shook his dad’s hand, then took his place in the front row, giving Zoe a moment to step forward and hug her. ‘I’m so happy for you both.’
Chrissie kissed her. ‘Thank you for everything, Zoe. We love you.’
For a moment, Zoe wondered what she was thanking her for. For letting Tom go? For accepting Chrissie as a friend? For making this work for all of them? The truth, she knew, was that no thanks were required, because Tom and Chrissie were simply meant to be together and no matter what obstacles were put in their way, they would have been overcome. Zoe had let him go and accepted it because there was no choice. It was their destiny, not hers.
Tom followed suit, kissing Zoe’s other cheek. ‘Thank you,’ he whispered, before he took his bride’s hand and they turned to face the celebrant who would declare them man and wife.
As Zoe stepped back, her eye caught her husband’s, sitting at the end of the same row as her sisters and her mum. No smile there. His jaw jutted forward and if he was radiating anything, it was irritation. She wondered if he too was thinking how different this was from their wedding. And if he was, did he resent it? Was it making him regret what they’d done?
The sound of the celebrant’s voice faded into the background, as Zoe closed her eyes, went back there to that moment at the top of the Kemp Vegas and watched herself step over the edge. ‘Watch me fly, Dad,’ she’d whispered.
She’d felt the sudden drop, then the thud as their feet hit the side of the building. Step by step, they’d worked their way down, and by the time they’d reached the ground, the thrill was coursing through her, her senses heightened by the danger.
Ned had unclipped his harness, climbed out of it, thrown his arms around her. He’d kissed her. ‘Happy Wedding Day,’ he’d said, beaming, clearly thrilled and excited.
