by Laura Kemp
‘Anyway, if you get a chance, come and see me!’ he finished off as she got to the car.
Wanda would’ve liked nothing more than to fall into his embrace. But she couldn’t go partying when Carys was in the wars. She had to be on stand-by throughout the night. It was all too emotional to go and get drunk. The mountain had been given an inch. Wanda knew herself too well – she didn’t trust herself not to go over the top and take a mile.
39
Annie had never insisted on anything from her mother, ever.
Why would you when you’d been handed over at birth to be brought up by someone else without a backwards glance?
In a way, it made things simpler: knowing reconciliation and apology and declarations of love were simply not on the cards. One question had always remained: why had her mother chosen to keep Ryan but not her? As a girl, Annie had asked that of Nanna – Annie’s dad had legged it, her mother was young and incapable. Asking her mother herself, though, it had been on the tip of her tongue many times. She’d been too afraid to hear what she’d say.
But now, sat in this house, where cigarette smoke hung and clung to everything, clasping her hands to her lap to stop the tremors, Annie realised there was no point in knowing. Instead she saw she’d been blessed to have escaped the day-in, day-out neglect that her brother had endured, which had set him off on a doomed path to death.
Annie couldn’t change her past, but she could be master of her future: so for the first and only time she was demanding something of her. It had to be early, of course, before the drinking began; maybe there was even whisky in her mother’s cup of coffee? Yet both of their mugs were untouched, cooling as the pine wall clock ticked its way to ten o’clock. Now they waited, Annie perched on the edge of the threadbare settee, her mother hovering by the door leading to the kitchen, uncomfortable in each other’s company.
Ten days had passed since Annie had come here for answers. The scene then had been an emotional mess of tears and shouting, quite different to how the atmosphere was today: the same went for the room, which had been littered with bottles and fag ends but was now empty of sin. Appalled by her mother’s confession, she had been in a daze. Spike had waited for her, scooping her up, taking her back to his, collecting Teg and arranging for Arthur to have a sleepover at Nathan’s. Then he’d held her for hours on his sofa until she had cried herself out. He’d slept in Arthur’s bed, while she’d had his and had woken to the smell of breakfast and coffee, the sound of him humming along to the radio and the pleasure of receiving a morning hug. He’d given her everything she’d needed: care, concern and love.
Annie had struggled with what to do. Turn the other cheek? For that was what was expected of women, to step away from danger. And she had done that her entire life. Yet this injustice, Annie couldn’t let it go. Women weren’t supposed to take up space, they didn’t spread their legs when they took a seat. But this was about standing her ground. Spike had offered to come, he backed her whatever choice she’d make. She’d refused, though – she wanted to do this by herself to assert her worth and strength.
An engine coughed up the street and spluttered to a stop outside. A white van, the one she now knew had followed her that day when she had put it down to paranoia. Annie stood up, staking out her position, as Mrs Jenkins shuffled to let Dean in.
His shadow in the hall, a clink of glass inside a rustling carrier bag, and then in he came.
‘What the hell is she doing here?’ Dean said, furious, glaring at Annie.
Mrs Jenkins shrank and Annie saw in an instant the reason why her mother had betrayed her. Not just now but all her life, abused by bad men.
‘You’ve set me up!’ Dean hissed. ‘You bitch. That’s where you get it from, Leanne.’
Annie registered the use of her full name, designed to remind her of the father who had gone, whose name, Lee, had been attached to her in what could only be her mother’s way of trying to please him, to stamp him on his child. But the blow fell short of Annie.
‘I know what you’ve been doing. I know you’ve been bribing her. Bringing booze here, getting her drunk to get information out of her, getting her to call you if I show up so you can follow me.’
That’s how he’d found out where Teg was. While her mother had never spoken to her when Annie had come to do her garden, she had been watching her after all, even reporting the flyer for the Blast from the Past disco in Annie’s van window.
‘Some mother she is, grassing you up for gut-rot gin, grassing me up too so it appears,’ he snarled, his fingers turning white as he gripped the handles of the bag which contained his latest delivery. Mrs Jenkins had stepped back behind the sofa, shielding herself. Annie stepped forward to seize territory.
‘Oh no. It was your own stupid fault I found out,’ Annie said, with steel. ‘You left a receipt in the bag. A receipt from the shop next door to our house.’
Dean’s jaw clenched. She’d got him. But slippery as ever, he would try to wriggle out of it. He began by dropping his shoulders, making himself smaller. ‘I only did it because I cared, I wanted you back. I said that to your mother, didn’t I?’ He darted his eyes to Mrs Jenkins.
‘Leave her alone. This is between you and me. And this is where it ends. I’ll contact the police, get you done for harassment.’
‘Listen, I’ve left you alone since that night at the hall, the disco, haven’t I?’ His voice was softer, his eyes pleading – she’d fallen for that too many times.
‘Yet you’ve still been coming. The receipt was recent. And you’re here now. Why’s that?’ She knew why, but she wanted to draw out his discomfort.
‘I wanted to look out for you.’
‘Hardly. You’re just biding your time. I won’t stand for it. I won’t have you coming back into my life.’
Dean sized her up, looking her up and down, searching for a weakness. But he wouldn’t find one: he had been her rock bottom, she couldn’t go any lower. He knew he’d been out-played. Suddenly he swung the bag high and roared, baring his teeth, in a display of physicality, the only power he had over her. Annie gasped involuntarily, but that was from shock, because she wasn’t afraid.
‘Everyone knows I’m here,’ she said, strangely calm, while her mother cowered. ‘Everyone knows I’m meeting you. You do something to hurt me or her, you’ll be the one who suffers.’
This trump card, of a community she’d once fled but which now rallied around her, finally silenced him. He dropped the bag and the old carpet swallowed the impact.
He was panting, but he was outmanoeuvred. Dean dropped his head and then went to go.
‘No more following me, no more turning up and no more calls,’ she warned his back.
‘The calls? I never made those.’ He shrugged and left, slamming the door behind him.
‘It was me,’ her mother said with gravel in her throat.
‘You?’ Annie said, turning to her.
‘I wanted to warn you what Dean was doing but I …’ Her shaking hand went to her chest and her bottom lip quivered.
A wave of sorrow hit Annie. This woman was in a prison of fear and suffering. Life had gone spectacularly wrong for her, off the rails, into bad relationships with a dead son and an estranged daughter. She had tried to contact her but she hadn’t had the courage to see it through. So there had been some loyalty from her mother, just not enough.
‘I’m going to the graveyard,’ Annie said, wondering if she could build on that loyalty, ‘to see Ryan. If you wanted to go?’
Mrs Jenkins’s eyes moved to the bag of alcohol on the floor. Would this be the moment she freed herself? But no. She was on her knees, peering to check that nothing was broken or wasted. There was no point in picking her mother apart: she didn’t care about herself, how could she care about anyone else? She’d written herself off a long time ago.
But Annie wasn’t like her. And she was glad, she
thought, as she shut the door quietly behind her.
40
You can take your far-flung destinations, long-haul flights and exotic locations – we’ve been everywhere, all over the world, but Under A Starry Sky is the best place on earth!
Carla and Chris, London
Campsite Visitors’ Book
Smoke was rising over the lake but this time Wanda didn’t even think of fire.
With Spike helping out, her hands were flipping sausages and burgers, filling baps and spooning relish as her mind kept asking, when would those babies be born?
More than twenty-four hours in labour and poor Carys was still waiting to deliver them. The epidural had come along at midnight, Danny had rung this morning to say Carys had managed to get some sleep while the pain relief did its thing. Having run out of fidgeting, Mam had gone up there to see if she could boss them out. That left Wanda jumping every time her phone buzzed, but it was always friends and family asking, ‘Are they here yet?’
Under blue skies and sunshine, Saturday afternoon’s barbecue in the community garden was packed out, heads and dinghies were bobbing in the water and the mountain was lush with green. Not long and her Wandalust account on Instagram would change for good: there’d be palm trees, Colombian coffees and shots of rum in salsa bars. Wanda felt a nostalgia for this place now as the days were passing – where there had been fear of leaving back in the winter, now she felt she was ready. Under A Starry Sky was a top-rated campsite, nominated for an award and booked up for next summer already. Mam was fitter than a fiddle. And the sooner she got away from lovely Lew, the better.
Diolch Gobaith, read the banner by the barbecue: this was her thank you – and the start of her goodbye. September would gallop along in a blur of nappies, finalising arrangements for her travels and finding the right person to take over the campsite – no one suitable had appeared as yet. Everyone who mattered to her was here. Apart from Carys and Rock and Roll. The mountain – the official bloody mountain! – was getting national coverage announcing the world’s newest mountain and the phone hadn’t stopped. At dawn, campers had raced up, excited by the timing to be the first to conquer it before the rush of ramblers and serious climbers. She looked up at its peak and she swore its jagged edges were curled in a smile …
‘Extra onions, please!’
‘Annie! Hiya!’ Wanda hadn’t seen her for a while. She looked different somehow, relaxed and rested. ‘Where’ve you been?’
‘Seeing off Dean Pincher. For good.’ Annie beamed. ‘It’s all going to be coming up roses from now on!’
Wanda returned her smile. Then it dawned on her – in all likelihood she wouldn’t be here to see it all work out for Annie, and it caught her in the throat. And of course that was when her phone went.
‘It’s Carys!’ Wanda said.
‘Let me take over at the barbie,’ Annie said.
Shaking, Wanda answered and waited.
‘They’re here! Rock and Roll are here!’ Carys sounded groggy but elated, on a high, and no wonder!
She took the phone away from her mouth and bellowed. ‘Carys has had the twins!’
A cheer went up and there was Blod, waving her arms madly, shouting, ‘What has she had then?’
‘Oh yes!’ She could finally make the big reveal. ‘Boys!’
There was more celebration, but Wanda could have said ‘kittens’ or ‘pork pies’ and everyone would have reacted the same.
‘Caz,’ Wanda said back into the phone, ‘did you hear that? We’re so blinking happy!’
‘I did! Oh, Wanda, they can’t wait to meet you.’
‘I can’t wait to meet them! When shall I come? Now? Tomorrow? How are you? How was it? You’re a hero. You did it!’
‘It was long,’ Carys sounded so tired. ‘But they’re beautiful. I can’t stop looking at them. I’d love you to come as soon as, but I need a rest, so later?’
‘Completely. I can wait. What about their names? Are you going to call them what you wanted to?’ With the father there, he might have different ideas.
‘Danny said since I’d done all the work and the worrying, I could choose. So yes. Will came first, five pounds seven, then ten minutes later there was Liam, five pounds five.’ Will and Liam, named after the sisters’ father William Williams. The tears started then between them. ‘Danny cut the cord and I’m having a large glass of that champagne you put in my bag.’
‘And they’re healthy? And you’re okay?’
‘They’re perfect. I’m exhausted, I’ve got more stitches than a race of marathon runners. I need a shower and sleep, but this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’
‘To us,’ Wanda said. ‘To us.’
And she felt her feet spreading and her toes gripping the soles of her flip-flops as if to root herself to the land. Oh no. This wasn’t supposed to be happening: she was just being emotional, surely?
A photo pinged through immediately after the call ended and there was Mam cradling a baby in the crook of each arm. Wanda’s fingers expanded the image and her heart surged at Will on the left and Liam on the right, both swaddled in blue blankets covered with little lambs, their noses like buttons, their lips cherubic, both topped with fluffy dark hair. Her nephews, named after her father, who had made Mam a granny. The glow inside met the wobbles travelling up her legs.
Annie was taking the tongs out of Wanda’s hands and telling her to go and show everyone the adorable bundles who had made her an aunty. Like a bolt, Wanda knew she loved them more than anything in the world. It was instant and all-consuming, primal and deep. Instantly Wanda knew she was done for. All that stuff about leaving and finding herself, her true calling – now they were as flaky as pastry.
‘Let me see!’ Blod had elbowed her way first to the queue and a chorus of ‘Aah!’ went up as her phone was passed down the queue.
Lew was the last in the line – and he was there waiting for a cwtch. Her arms went round him and felt the muscled sinew of his back. Her face was against his neck, her cheek pressed against his warm bare skin, her chest sucked against his. He had one hand circling her waist while the other was stroking her hair. She had shut her eyes, she realised, and it felt like heaven to be this close to him. She found she wanted to stay like this forever. What was wrong with her? Even worse, she didn’t even want to be right.
The latest testimonial in the visitors’ book, written by a couple their age and asking why you’d go anywhere else in the world when you had this, had struck a chord when she’d first read it and now it was like hearing the bongs of Big Ben. A series of TV-news-style headlines ran through her mind: Bong! Wanda Williams wanted to see the world. Bong! But now she’s having second thoughts. Bong! She’s in love with this bloke. Bong! And she’s pretty sure he loves her too. Bong! Oh dear.
Quickly, she pulled away from him and started chattering, anything to drown out the exclusive bulletins.
‘They’re so cute! I can’t believe it! Carys is a mam, her Danny turned up!’
‘Want me to take you up there? I can drive you.’ Lew was already searching his pockets for his keys.
‘No, Carys is so tired. I can see them tomorrow, her and Danny need to do some bonding too.’
‘Yeah, good call. You’ll have a month with them, won’t you, before you go.’
Wanda gave a faint whimper. Four weeks, that’s all she’d have with them. Four weeks, that’s all she had left with Lew. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t leave. It was rising up inside and cantering up her throat and onto her tongue.
‘I’m not going,’ she blurted out. ‘I’m not going.’
‘No, I know!’ he laughed. ‘I can take you to the hospital tomorrow.’
‘No. I mean I’m not going going. Leaving. I want to stay.’ She looked into his eyes, her chest heaving.
His face fell. ‘What?’
‘I can’t
bear to leave you,’ she said with every bit of her body and soul. ‘I love you.’
Lew’s mouth fell open and his head went back as if she’d punched him one. He looked confused and shocked.
What the hell had she just said?
Wanda stepped away and backed off. His hand went out to her, his eyes were wide. She had massively misjudged this moment – it was simply the relief and joy that the twins had arrived safely. That’s what she needed to say to him: the emotion of it all, the beginning of two new lives, well, that’s why she’d said something so ridiculous.
Yet the truth was quite different: their birth hadn’t caused it, their birth had just unlocked what she had always known. Now that she’d said it out loud, what on earth was she going to do with it?
41
‘I stink of onions, sausages and smoke,’ Annie said, plonking herself on a hay bale just in time to watch the sun setting behind the mountain. ‘But it’s been the best day.’
‘I like a woman who’s easily pleased,’ Spike laughed, joining her with a thud which sent stray pieces of straw into the air.
Knackered from cleaning the barbecue grill until it shone, she managed to find the energy to elbow him in the ribs. Spike fell backwards, pretending to be mortally wounded. And while he was down there, his arm rustled inside his rucksack on the ground and he came up with a bottle of fizz.
‘Still cold,’ he said, triumphantly, popping the cork, releasing foam, which he quickly poured into two plastic glasses. ‘I stuck it in the freezer last night and it’s been in a cooler all day, just in case.’
‘For what?’
‘For you! For today. Obviously I didn’t know how it was going to go with Dean or your mum, but I thought I’d ’ave some on ice if it’d gone well. In fact I thought it might help if it ’adn’t too.’
Touched by his thoughtfulness, Annie held her glass to Spike’s and thanked him with her hand on her heart. A waterfall of bubbles cascaded down her throat, cutting through the dust of the barbecue, which she had ended up running with Spike for the rest of the day. Once Wanda had come down from the high of the twins’ safe arrival, she’d checked if Annie was okay to stick to the burgers then thrown herself into collecting rubbish around the campsite. She was still going, alone in the distance by the lake. It had been heaving but the locals had trekked off to the pub to continue the party and the campers were in semi-circles of chairs, an audience for nature’s evening show of splendour. Wispy clouds were turning pink against the deepening blue sky as birds flew around in their swooping bedtime ritual.
