The Waiting List (Strong Women Book 5)

by Sarah Till

  As I bent down to pick up my handbag, I noticed a tiny strip of curly paper that must have lodged under the kitchen unit when I had smashed the jar. I picked it up carefully and straightened it on countertop. It read 'Tim. I wish I could marry Tim. We'll be happy together.'

  Flicking open the pedal bin, I ripped the paper into tiny pieces and grabbed my bag and keys.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  I drove quickly over to Mum and Dad's wondering all the way what was wrong. Dad's voice had sounded a little bit shaky, but then again he had been crying all morning. I parked up and jumped out. Mum didn't appear at the door and there was no yapping from the mini dog. I knocked and Dad appeared from around the side of the house.

  “Do you want to come round here? I've fixed that jar for you.”

  We walked round the side of the house and across the garden. The back door was open and I could see that the spades and the Wellington boots were gone. I sighed and went into the shed. I looked around and gasped. On every shelf, and covering the whole floor were models made from matchsticks. There were dogs and cats, a train, several cars and in pride of place, a matchstick portrait of Charlotte. Dad followed my gaze.

  “It was her, wasn't it?”

  I nodded.

  “Of course.” I took the decision to lighten his load. “She came round to see me at my home. You see, Dad, I found out about her through that man I was seeing. Turns out he was her boyfriend. I didn't know when I started seeing him.”

  He began to wring his hands.

  “Bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, eh?”

  He tried to laugh but it turned into a sob.

  “She was pregnant when she left.”

  “Yes. I guessed that.”

  “But Dad, she was nearly due to have the baby and none of us had noticed. She didn't know how to tell us. Things kept happening and it was never the right time. She thought we didn't care, so she ran away.”

  He sobbed loudly.

  “Pregnant?”

  “Yes. She must have been hiding it. But I don’t know how three of us didn’t notice. She lived in the same house as us and none of us noticed.”

  “Does she hate me?”

  I couldn't tell him the truth. I just couldn't.

  “No. She just wants her own life. She came round to tell me not to contact her again. Or her daughter. She told me to tell you and Mum.”

  He picked up a rag from the side and wiped his hands.

  “Righty ho. If that's what she wants. I don’t think your Mum will anyway. She's...”

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Well. That's that then. All’s well that ends well.”

  The inappropriateness of his statement was lost on him. He picked up my jar and handed it to me. It felt lighter than before.

  “I put back all the little slips and glued it together.” His eyes darted left and right.” I couldn't help but notice you had a lot of pennies in there. Have you been collecting them?”

  I nodded.

  “Yes. See a penny, pick it up, all the day you'll have good luck.”

  I saw a glimmer of a smile cross his face.

  “Pass the penny to a friend. Your good luck will never end.”

  We both sniggered the same snigger and laughed at it. He passed me my bag of pennies.

  “How come you've still got them then?”

  I stared at him for a moment.

  “I have given some of them away. Some of them.” I felt like a little girl again, him with all the knowledge and me faltering for an answer. “The problem is, I haven't had any friends. Not real ones. Not until recently. I've just had superficial acquaintances. You know the kind I mean, don’t you?”

  He nodded.

  “Sure. Sure I do.”

  “I've never been able to just give the pennies away. I've never really trusted anyone. I suppose I've just kept them until I met that person. Someone who's interested in me and what I have to say. In what I do. Someone who understands. I had a list, Dad.”

  “A list? Like your mother's lists?”

  “Well, not exactly the same. Mine were about men. Men I would like to meet. A certain kind of man, someone I'd conjured up when I was a teenager. I've spent so much time just waiting for the right person. A bit like Mum has spent the past sixteen years waiting for the right body. Turns out we were both looking in the wrong places. Thing is, until I find that person, I won’t be able to give my pennies away.”

  I realised how silly it sounded and felt myself blush.

  Dad turned around and bent down. He was struggling with a giant plastic Coca Cola bottle. He heaved it up onto the worktop and the wood buckled under its weight. It was full almost to the brim with pennies.

  “Folk round here call me the Magpie. Walking along, scanning the pavement, picking up pennies and all sorts of other junk and bringing it here. I've been saving these pennies since decimal currency came in 1971. Every time I saw one I'd say to myself 'See a penny, pick it up. All the day you'll have good luck.' But I never passed them on.”

  “What about your friends at the office? Couldn’t you have passed them on to them? Or your friends from holidays?”

  “Not friends, Clem, acquaintances. Not close enough to trust. No one close enough to trust.”

  “But you had Mum. Couldn't you pass them on to her?”

  He snorted and his eyes filled with tears again.

  “No. I tried but she just laughed at me. Told me to stop being stupid. Stupid. That's what she thinks of me.”

  “You're not stupid, Dad.”

  “She thinks I am. She's always bullied me. Ever since we met.”

  I looked at him. A hulking big thing of a man, stooping to not bang his head on the roof. Mum, so small and skinny, never able to put weight on.

  “But you seemed so happy once. When we were little.”

  “We were. On the surface. But she never understood me. I thought she was quite a catch, Clementine. With her long blonde hair and her eyes of blue. Like the Bowie song, the only thing I ever get from you is sorrow. It’s true. She was everything I ever wanted. She looked like a picture, everything I'd imagined my wife would look like. And I wanted her, oh yes, I wanted her all right. All my friends at the office were jealous of my little blonde doll. Called her Barbie, they did. But they didn't know what a nasty piece of work she was.”

  I reeled with shock. I'd never known that Dad was so unhappy. I’d witnessed the arguments and the coldness but I never realised how far apart they were.

  “Why did you stay with her then?”

  “Oh, I nearly didn't. I met this woman, when you were about three. Nothing happened, well I didn't even kiss her. But she understood how I felt. I could be open and honest with her and she would still be there. No theatrical tantrums, no emotional blackmail, no constant threats to leave. She would listen and come back time after time.”

  “So, what happened to her?”

  “Marjory. She was called Marjory. Your mum found out about her. Of course, she accused me of sleeping with her and cheapened it all. She said she would divorce me for adultery and I would lose my chance to be a partner at the practise. Of course, there were you two to as well. I couldn't bear to leave you and your mother told me that if I chose Marjory, I would never see you again.”

  I touched his arm.

  “Oh, Dad. I never knew. How terrible. For both of you.”

  “Well, after that, all the romantic side was gone for me and your mum. We were good parents, but lived separate lives. I always had the memory of Marjory, though, and somehow just having known her for that short time helped me get through everything else. When Charlotte disappeared, your mother told me it was me being repaid for my adultery. I knew it couldn't be as Marjory was little more than a friend, but your mother has never let it drop. Even this morning she blamed me.”

  I hugged him but he was cold. His arms were around me but now he played the part of the person in a soap opera camera shot staring into the distance. Only he was thinking of
Marjory. I pulled away.

  “Dad, you know if there's anything you want, you can come round to mine.”

  “Fat chance. Every time I go out she thinks I'm meeting Marjory.”

  “What, thirty years later?”

  “Yes. That's why I hardly ever go anywhere. I've got nothing to say to anyone and no one to give my pennies to. Except you.”

  He lifted the bottle and placed it in my hands.

  “Go on now, chop-chop. Go and give those pennies to everyone you see. Life's too short, Clem, love. Life’s too short. Off you go. Let me get on with my frieze. They're expecting it next week.”

  He turned around and left me to struggle across the garden with the pennies. My arms ached as I held my own jar and negotiated the flowerbeds with the huge bottle. I got to the car and threw the bottle on the back seat. The lid collapsed under the weight and a stream of pennies flowed onto the seat. I picked one out from the middle and, smiling, offered it to a passing woman.

  “For good luck!”

  She beamed at me and took the penny. I got in my car and started the engine. I'd been sitting with Dad for a while and now it was time to go and meet Liam. My eyes looked a bit red from crying and I smelled of glue and sulphur but what the hell. My mind reeled with yet another revelation from my family. Who would ever believe Dad had a mistress? But it did sort of explain why the emotional temperature in that house was a steady minus five. I neared the restaurant and parked up. I checked my face in the mirror and smiled. Not too bad. I still looked tired and drawn but was it any wonder? In a two-week period, I'd lost my bloke, met another and lost him, found my long-lost sister and got to know my parents for the first time in sixteen years. I thought about Jenni and Johnny and smiled. They would be the first recipients of my honorary good luck pennies! I felt a little more cheerful as I got out of the car and walked up the road. The coffee shop doubled as an ice cream parlour and I could see Liam through the window. His children sat lined up at a high table eating knickerbocker glories. My stomach churned with nerves and I giggled to myself. Who would have thought it two weeks ago? I opened the door and as soon as Liam saw me, his face brightened. He was at the counter paying for the ice cream.

  “Just in time! What do you want?”

  I chose a strawberry sundae and a cappuccino.

  “Let me get these!”

  My voice was a little louder and shriller than usual. Liam laughed quietly.

  “Are you scared of my children? They won’t bite, you know. Anyway, after I've taken them home, we can catch a film, if you like.”

  I nodded and looked at him. His profile was strong and he had a Roman nose. His eyelashes were fair yet long and his eyes looked even more piercing blue than today. He had a little dimple in his chin that made him look very masculine and his hair was longish and curly, today waxed into loose strands.

  “I thought you had to have short hair in the fire brigade.”

  He laughed again.

  “Maybe in 1960. But today they even let you wear your own undies.”

  I laughed too and our eyes met. My heart leapt and sunshine lollipops and rainbows, and everything wonderful blasted back into my life on full volume. My heart donned its protective armour and shouted, 'Here we go again' but my head said nothing. Just smiled.

  Liam turned around.

  “So, these are my offspring. Liam, aged nine. Into Nintendo, surfing, anything martial arts.”

  Mini Liam looked up at me from his portable games console and smirked.

  “Hello, Clementine.”

  Big Liam laughed as mini Liam’s fingers tapped on the controls again and his long blond hair flopped over his face.

  “And Lucy, aged eleven. Lucy's the quiet one. Quite a reader, very serious. The genius of the family. Lucy, say hello to Clem.”

  Lucy looked a little sullen. She stopped eating her ice cream and held out her hand. I shook it gently.

  “Hello, Clementine. That's a funny name. Where did it originate?”

  I smiled.

  “It means goddess, Lucy. My parents thought I would grow up as a goddess, but I'm not sure about that.”

  We turned now to the willowy teenager sitting on the corner talking into her mobile phone. Liam led me over and the girl turned around. For a split second, I could have sworn it was Amy. I looked a Liam helplessly, not really knowing what to do.

  “And this is Amelia. My daughter from my first marriage.”

  I exhaled deeply. It wasn’t Amy after all. On the bench beside her was a copy of Wuthering Heights. Her eyes followed mine to a folder where she had doodled ‘Love’ in big, curvy letters. I noted the earphones around her neck and the music player sticking out of her pocket and just knew that she would be listening to love songs. She looked defensive and I pitied her. She was about to undergo her teenage years and enter into the arena of romance, if there was such a thing. I suddenly felt terribly grown up.

  “Lovely to meet you, Amelia. I read that book when I was your age.”

  “It’s for a project. They make us read them at school.”

  I could see the corners of the pages, ragged where they had been turned over as she had avidly studied the pages. I wanted to warn her to wait, not to be so eager to fall in love, not to be brainwashed by the rules of dating and her own expectations. Liam intervened.

  “OK, ladies. Let’s eat this ice cream!”

  He smiled his warm smile and the corners of his eyes crinkled. The cogs finally clicked into place and the wheel turned into my future. Sunshine, lollipops and everything that’s wonderful. I smiled back at him.

  Epilogue.

  It'd been a long day at work and my feet bloody ached as I walked down the road. I'd been good today, just cereal, you know, that special stuff with red berries. Then for lunch I'd had a baked potato with no butter. Not very nice. Probably have nothing for dinner, as I’m not that keen on meals for one, or that good at making them, I sort of can’t be bothered anymore. But needs must. Got to keep trim now I'm looking for a new man.

  I hadn't seen Timmy for a year and three months, and good riddance, the sneaky bastard. 'Duplicitous' was the word I used when I text him and told him I never wanted to see him again. Him or his mother. I got that word online, you know, on the internet. I'm good on the internet now. It's taken a while but I've finally got the hang of it. Facebook, Twitter, all ways of making new friends. And finding old friends, too. It wasn't easy and it was a bit confusing, but I managed it. I had lots of time on my hands now, you know, being on my own all the time. No men to confuse me.

  It took me a long time to decide if I should see her again or not. Lots of decisions, you know, like the argument we had over Timmy, like what happened when we were kids, like how she treated me and how I treated her. Like why we hadn't seen each other for all those years, like why she had never tried to contact me. Once I had got used to the internet a bit I found her on Facebook. I added her as a friend but in a name she wouldn't know so I could see what she was up to, get to know her a bit before I decided to go round to her house again. I suppose it was a bit, you know, like stalking, but I had been sitting outside her house in a car, watching her through her window, watching her walk along her road on her way back from work, swinging her handbag. So, I don't expect that stalking her on Facebook would make much difference.

  She seemed to be very happy, you know, friends and all that, some lovely pictures. I tried to work out what her life had been like, the people she knew, her job. But she was a stranger. The only thing I recognised really was her name and her face. The rest of her life was like a short story that you might read in Cosmo or Red, you know, about someone you didn't know.

  Then I made a page for myself, you know, on Facebook. I wrote a lot about myself on it, things I hadn’t really told anyone. Things that had somehow got lost in the confusion over men and my busy life. It took about three months, but then I got a request, you know, to add me as a friend. I was surprised at first after what had happened that day over Timmy. I thought th
at was it, we wouldn't ever speak again. I even thought they might still be together and that he would try to stop her seeing me. She wrote me a long message about how she had looked on the internet every day for me since it had been invented and how she was always looking for me, even though she knew that I didn't think she was. She told me about her daughter and how proud she was of her, and even sent me a picture of her.

  I waited for about a month, you know, I didn't want to make any mistakes and spoil anything, as we'd come this far now and were even chatting on MSN some nights. Just about work and stuff. Never mentioned Mum and Dad, she didn't either. I think we had a sort of silent agreement. Sisters’ agreement. Ha ha. Never mentioned Timmy either. Probably for the best. It seemed to be going very well, you know, but there was never a right time to mention meeting again. I wondered if too much had happened last time, you know, about Timmy, and couldn't quite get the nerve up to ever mention it to her. I just worried that it would rock the boat.

  Then one day I just felt different, a bit more, you know, optimistic. Another online word. So, I bit the bullet. I caught the bus so I wouldn't chicken out and parked my car outside her house, like I had done in the previous months, looking at her and her daughter through her window, watching them. Without the car, I couldn't stalk her, so I would have to just take a deep breath and knock on her door. I picked a Wednesday, because it was midweek and just like every other day. If she sent me away, I would just carry on with my life like nothing was lost.

  As I walked up her drive I was shaking, remembering what had happened last time I was there. That was all a year ago now and things had changed, I hoped. I stopped at the front door and nearly turned back. But I knocked hard. Her car was there, so she must be in. I knocked again and she opened the door mid-knock. She held her baby daughter on her hip. Her daughter’s piercing blue eyes and blonde hair reminded me of Amy as a baby. I thought about how much I missed Amy now she had gone off to college and how Mum and Dad must have missed me. Clem smiled. I smiled back.