‘We thought it was game over when you married that awful woman, though.’ Mum gives Jonas the side eye and tuts. ‘We began to hope you’d both come to your senses when the divorce came through, but no, off you swanned to Japan.’ Mum shakes her head at Jonas, her lips a thin line of recrimination. ‘This one’s been waiting for you, you know. She hasn’t said anything, of course, but we know our daughter. Anyway, you got there in the end.’ Mum’s smile is wide as she pats first Jonas’s arm and then mine. ‘Now, who wants another brew before I get back to the veg?’ She toddles off to the kitchen while everybody returns to poring over the photo album.
My phone buzzes with a message from Lily. There’s a selfie of her and Aaron on the beach, grinning at the camera in Santa hats despite the glaring sun.
Merry Christmas from Barbados! Give Jonas a massive snog from me xxx
While the others are distracted by images of Christmases long gone, I pull Jonas aside and do just that. There’s a sudden flash of light, and I expect to be snatched away from this moment and dumped elsewhere. But, blinking in the dazzling light, my vision returning to normal, I realise I’m still in Mum and Dad’s living room, still holding on to Jonas.
‘Sorry.’ There’s a sheepish smile on Dad’s face as he lowers his camera. ‘Didn’t realise the flash was still on.’
I’m not going anywhere. From now on, I’m going to remain in the present – and I’m going to enjoy every last second of it.
Keep reading for a sneak peek at Jennifer Joyce’s romantic comedy, Everything Changes But You
ONE
‘Well? What do you think?’
Ally arranged herself in the doorway in what she hoped was a sexy pose; right arm raised above her head and grasping the frame, left hand planted on her hip, glossy lips pouting. Her husband lifted his head away from the television, his eyes following gradually, leaving it until the very last second before they snapped away from the screen. The real test of how she looked would now occur. A brief glance accompanied by some sort of mumbled response would mean she looked okay at best.
‘Wow, babe. Are you sure you’re only going over to The Farthing for karaoke with the girls?’
His eyes were still on her, the film almost forgotten. This was a very good sign. A very good sign indeed.
‘Yes, I’m sure. Why?’ Ally pushed her lips back into a pout while blinking slowly from under her long fringe.
Gavin laughed. Amusement had not been the response she’d been hoping for as she’d slipped into her new emerald green dress and her trusty, sky-scraper-but-broken-in heels. She’d blown her hair straight – although it was already starting to curl again – and plucked out the couple of grey hairs that glinted at her in the mirror. She was wearing more make-up than usual in an attempt to cover up the crow’s feet she was convinced had embedded themselves into her flesh overnight.
‘Are you fishing for compliments?’
Of course she was fishing for compliments! ‘No, don’t be daft,’ Ally tittered unconvincingly as she undraped herself from the doorway and perched on the edge of the sofa where Gavin was watching The Terminator. Again. Ally didn’t know why he bothered to watch it any more. Surely he knew the words off by heart by now, and it wasn’t like it was a repeat-worthy film like Dirty Dancing.
‘I can’t believe you’re watching this again.’
‘The Terminator is a classic. It deserves to be watched again and again so you can appreciate the brilliance.’ Gavin’s attention was now back on the television, his forearms resting on his knees as he attempted to sit as close to the action as possible.
‘And it has nothing at all to do with your childhood crush on Sarah Connor?’
Gavin gave a shrug, eyes still glued to the television. ‘I’m a hot-blooded man, Ally.’
‘And don’t I know it.’ Ally slipped off the arm of the sofa, landing on Gavin’s lap. Gavin’s interest in Arnie waned as he kissed his wife, all thoughts of saving the world from the machines vanishing as he found the zip on the side of the new dress.
‘Whoa there, mister. Some of us are going out, you know.’ Ally pulled away, tugging the zip back into place.
‘You can be five minutes late, can’t you?’
‘Five whole minutes? Has my birthday arrived a day early?’ Ally giggled as she hopped off Gavin’s lap and straightened her dress.
‘Tease.’
‘Jared and Paul will be here any minute. You don’t want them to catch us at it, do you?’ Gavin wasn’t that fussed, to be honest. His mates could wait on the doorstep all night for all he cared. Jared and Paul would understand. ‘Besides, you’ll have something to look forward to later.’
‘Really?’
Ally bent over to kiss Gavin on the lips, purposefully flashing her cleavage as she did so. ‘Really. And you know how frisky I get when I’m drunk.’
Gavin reached for his wallet and handed Ally a couple of notes. ‘Have a few drinks on me.’
Ally swatted Gavin but she grabbed the money anyway. ‘What are you planning on doing with the boys tonight?’
‘Beer, pizza, poker. The usual.’ Tuesdays were set in stone. Ally would meet up with the girls for karaoke and a gossip while Gavin invited the boys round to slob out.
‘Well, have fun.’ Ally grabbed her handbag, making sure she had her purse (with Gavin’s extra money nestled safely inside), her mobile and lip gloss. ‘I’ll see you and your little friend later.’
Ally winked at Gavin while he covered his crotch. ‘Hey, less of the little. You’ll offend him.’
‘I’ll make it up to him later, don’t worry.’ Ally gave Gavin one last kiss and skipped away before he could haul her off to the bedroom. Sarah Connor would have to do for now.
Ally closed the front door behind her softly, smoothing her dress down once more before setting off for the pub. Their first home together had been a poky little flat with peeling wallpaper and a dodgy boiler, but Ally and Gavin had made the decision to upgrade a year ago. The terraced house on MacMillan Road was almost as tiny as the flat but it had a little yard at the back and, more importantly, it was four doors down from their local pub. Despite Ally’s proximity to The Farthing, she was still the last of her group to arrive, but the karaoke machine was still being set up, so at least she wasn’t too late.
‘Here she is!’ Ally’s sister stood up, one hand holding her glass of wine, the other pointing at Ally as she headed towards their table. ‘The almost-birthday-girl. Say ta-ra to your twenties!’
‘Oh, God. Don’t remind me.’ Ally slumped into her seat and dropped her head into her hands. ‘How can I be thirty already? It only feels like yesterday that I was at school.’
‘You wish it was only yesterday. You’re practically an old woman now. You’ll be drawing your pension in no time.’
‘Cheeky cow.’ Ally glared at her sister. Freya was only eleven months younger than Ally so she wasn’t so sprightly herself. ‘But, as a pensioner, I can’t afford to buy my own drinks any more, so you’ll have to provide me with alcohol, being a young whippersnapper and everything.’
‘Whippersnapper? God, you are old.’ Freya shook her head at her sister, oozing sorrow. ‘I’ll go and get another bottle of wine. You missed the first.’
Freya tottered to the bar while Ally’s best friend, Francine, gave her hand a squeeze. ‘You’re not that old, chick. I’ll be forty in a couple of years. Now that’s ancient.’
‘You’re right. I’m a spring chicken compared to you.’
Francine nudged Ally but she was smiling. ‘Wait until you have kids. Then you’ll feel old. I live for our karaoke nights. It’s the only freedom I get. How sad is that?’
‘Then we’d better enjoy ourselves, hadn’t we?’ Ally searched the bar for Freya, wondering where her wine was. She was parched, but it seemed Freya was too busy flirting with the young barman to provide the much-needed alcohol to her elders. ‘So what are we singing tonight?’
‘Like you have to ask?’ Francine sang ‘Mustang Sally’
every week, without fail. It wasn’t a Karaoke Tuesday without The Commitments.
‘I can’t decide between a bit of Adele or something retro.’ Dee, the fourth member of their group, tilted her head to one side as she weighed up her options.
‘What’s the retro option?’ Ally asked.
‘Eternal Flame?’
Ally and Francine sucked in their breath before nodding vigorously. Retro it was.
‘Look what I managed to wrangle.’ Freya returned to the table, waving a bottle of wine in each hand. ‘Two for the price of one. And I’ve got a date for Friday. He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?’
Four heads swivelled around to the barman, who gave a little wave.
‘He is cute but isn’t he a bit young?’ Ally wasn’t convinced he was legally allowed behind the bar.
‘Is he even old enough to be in here without a responsible adult?’ Honestly, he looked like he could be a classmate of Francine’s twelve-year-old daughter.
‘He’s twenty-one.’
Ally and Francine gaped at Freya while Dee gave an appreciative nod. ‘Go, Freya. The young ones are the best.’
‘Are they?’ Ally wouldn’t know. She’d been with Gavin since they were fifteen – although they’d had a bit of a break when Ally went away to university – so she’d never experienced the younger man.
‘God, yeah.’ Dee nodded with vigour. ‘Think of all that energy they’ve got.’
Ally would rather not. Gavin had enough energy for her. Besides, he’d got past the spotty back stage and Ally wasn’t willing to go back to that.
‘I’ll stick to my Gavin, thanks.’
‘And what if Jason offered it to you on a plate?’ Freya hopped onto the table, toppling a glass over with her bum in the process, but luckily it was empty. ‘What if he came in here, right now, and asked you to ravish him?’ She patted her thighs and threw back her head. ‘Hop on board, Ally. I’ve got to have you right now.’
Ally scoffed. ‘Jason would never say that.’ If only! ‘And I’d have to decline anyway because I love my husband and would never cheat on him.’
‘Not even with the gorgeous Jason? But you’ve had a crush on him for ages.’
‘It’s only a silly little work crush. I wouldn’t actually do anything about it.’
‘I’d give it some serious thought.’ Francine’s confession made Ally’s eyes widen. She’d been married far longer than Ally and she had three kids. ‘What? He’s gorgeous. Imagine grabbing hold of that arse.’
The table erupted into giggles and the wine was poured. This was what Ally enjoyed most about their karaoke nights. It was great to get up on the little stage and throw herself into her chosen song, imagining she was Mariah Carey – which she most definitely was not – but it was spending time with the girls that she savoured, gossiping and sharing secrets, no matter how silly.
A sudden squeal filled the pub as Keith Barry, karaoke extraordinaire, plugged the microphone into his machine. Keith Barry was fat and balding, but thought he was some sort of love god and had a tendency to wear shiny gold shirts and fistfuls of sovereign rings.
‘Now, now ladies. There’s no rush. I’m here all night.’ Keith Barry rasped into his microphone, out of breath and oozing sweat from lugging the equipment from his van. ‘Form an orderly queue if you’d like to have a go with Uncle Keith. But don’t tell the missus.’ He winked and laughed at his own ‘joke’. Nobody else joined in, but that didn’t stop our Keith. ‘My equipment’s up and ready for action. So come on ladies, get stuck in, you randy mares.’ Chortle chortle.
‘Uncle Keith?’ Dee shuddered. ‘He’s like the dirty perverted uncle you only ever see at family weddings who gets pissed and presses his hard on into your hip after forcing you to dance.’ She took in the tableful of creased brows. ‘Is that just me then?’
‘Er, yeah.’ Freya shuffled away from her best friend. They’d been friends since nursery but that was the first time that little confession had slipped out.
‘Oh, chick.’ Francine reached across the table to squeeze poor Dee’s hand. ‘I’d avoid him from now on if I were you.’
‘I’d chop his balls off.’ Freya caught her best friend’s eye and they burst out laughing. If Freya had her way, every man within the Greater Manchester area would have his testicles hacked off. Even Lovely Paul, once Freya’s boyfriend of eighteen months and now a good friend of Gavin’s, would be a eunuch for some crime or other in Freya’s mind.
‘Hey, what’s going on over here then, ladies?’ Their laughter caught the attention of Keith Barry, who was leaning in closer, one bushy eyebrow raised. ‘Come on, share the joke. We like ladies to share, don’t we?’ He shouted across to the twenty-one-year-old barman, who smiled good-naturedly before ducking down and busying himself with the dishwasher.
Ally leaned in towards her friends, her voice hushed as she spoke out of the corner of her mouth. ‘Is that supposed to have sexual connotations?’
Dee gave a shrug – like she knew what ‘connotations’ meant. ‘Who cares? I call group song!’ Without waiting for an answer, she grasped her friends by the hand, shoving two towards the stage and the slobbering Keith Barry before returning for the third.
‘Four at once, eh?’ Keith Barry looked as though all his Christmases had come at once. Freya imagined sharpening her bollock-hacking scissors.
They sang ‘Like a Virgin’, with Freya gyrating against Dee in a very non-virginal manner. Under normal circumstances Ally would have been mortified, but sod it. She was turning thirty tomorrow. Thirty. She was going to enjoy herself tonight, no matter what. Even Francine, the most reserved of the group, got into it, shimmying out of her shrug before whipping it off, lassoing it around her head and chucking it out into the crowd. Ally felt alive as she bounced around while waving her arms and belting out the number until her lungs ached. She wanted to bottle this feeling, to relive it over and over again.
‘Fantastic, ladies. Fantastic.’ Keith Barry applauded as the song came to an end. He whipped a polka-dotted handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. ‘What are you going to sing next? “Patricia the Stripper”?’ He gave them a seedy wink, which sobered Ally enough to dodge the karaoke host as he lunged at them. Poor Dee wasn’t quick enough and Keith’s sweaty hands gripped her in a too-tight hug. ‘Let’s have a round of applause for these ladies. Weren’t they great?’
The group returned to their table, draining their glasses and refilling them to the brim. This karaoke business was thirsty work.
‘So, what are we singing next?’ Freya asked before they’d even caught their breath back. ‘Shall I grab the book?’
Keith Barry and his equipment were long gone by the time Ally and co were turfed out of The Farthing, clinging to one another and giving an encore of ‘Like a Virgin’, which was still the highlight of their evening. Francine had given her usual performance of ‘Mustang Sally’, with Keith taking the shine off the experience by making vulgar gestures throughout, and though Dee’s ‘Eternal Flame’ had been beautiful, it couldn’t beat the fun they’d had as a quartet.
‘We’ve got to get up for work in the morning.’ Francine groaned as they stumbled along the pavement towards Ally’s house.
‘Drinking this much was a bad idea.’ Ally could already feel the onset of a hangover.
‘Are you kidding? Drinking this much was the best idea we’ve ever had.’ Freya broke away from the group, throwing her arms up to the dark sky. ‘I feel fantastic. I don’t even want to go home yet. Shall we go into town?’
‘No,’ Ally and Francine chorused while Dee hissed that she would love to go into town. She wanted to dance and flirt and drink some more.
‘Don’t forget we’re not as young as you two. I’ve got three kids to get ready for school in the morning.’ Feeling a chill, Francine went to pull her shrug back into place but she was no longer wearing it. ‘And Ally’s thirty now, remember.’
‘Hey, I’m still twenty-nine.’ Ally peered at Francine’s wrist as she tapp
ed her watch. It was after midnight. ‘Shit. I’m thirty.’
She wanted to cry, right there in the street, and it wasn’t only because she’d had too much to drink. How could she be thirty so soon? Thirty was old, ancient, decrepit and she didn’t want to be those things. She wanted to be young, youthful, virginal. Alright, maybe virginal was pushing it. She did quite like sex. But she didn’t want to be thirty.
‘Sorry, chick.’ Francine patted her on the arm, which only made her feel worse. Francine knew. She’d been there, washed and ironed the T-shirt. She’d passed Go and everything, and she knew it was all downhill from here. That’s why Francine was being sympathetic.
‘Do you think people will mistake us for mother and daughter when we’re out in public now?’
Freya thought she was being amusing, but she was not. ‘Eleven months, Freya.’
‘Eleven glorious months of youth.’ Freya caught the thunderous look on her sister’s face and that, coupled with the amount of alcohol Ally had consumed, made her reconsider the string of jibes she’d pre-prepared weeks in advance. ‘I’ll stop now, I swear. And we’ve walked past your house.’
The four staggered back towards Ally’s house and fell inside, shushing each other with over-exaggerated fingers to their lips. A taxi was called and another bottle of wine opened for the wait. Ally crept up the stairs once the others had left and slipped off her dress, neither bothering to change into pyjamas nor remove her make-up before climbing into the warm bed.
‘Good night?’ Gavin was a comfort, anchoring her to the bed as her fuzzy head made Ally feel like she was floating up to the ceiling.
‘Brilliant night. I’m a little bit pissed.’
Gavin laughed. ‘A little bit?’ Ally nodded in the dark. ‘Too pissed to remember your earlier promise?’
‘God, no.’ Ally somehow managed to climb astride her husband without damaging anything vital, but struggled when it came to locating the box of condoms from the drawer beside the bed.
The 12 Christmases of You & Me Page 26
