All You Need is Love

by Carole Matthews

  ‘And what about all the damage to Johnny’s workshop?’

  ‘I helped him to clear it up,’ my son says in his defence.

  ‘He did,’ Johnny agrees.

  ‘I’m really, really sorry,’ Charlie looks downcast.

  ‘That’s okay,’ Johnny tells him. ‘It’s all come good in the end.’

  ‘No, it hasn’t,’ I intervene. ‘Charlie, you’ve broken just about every rule I can think of.’ I count them off on my fingers. ‘You’ve vandalised Johnny’s garage. You’ve taken his belongings without asking. You went into Liverpool without my permission. And I know for a fact that you’re smoking.’ Thought I might as well throw that one in as I’m on a roll.

  My son hangs his head.

  ‘I haven’t brought you up to be like this. I’m so disappointed in you. Get out of my sight.’

  ‘Mum . . .’

  I hold up my hand. ‘Go to your room while I think of an appropriate punishment.’ Which will, of course, involve confiscation of the treasured Playstation at the very least.

  ‘Sorry, Mum,’ my son says tearfully. ‘Sorry, Johnny.’ And then he trails off to his bedroom, the picture of misery.

  Johnny turns pleading eyes to me. ‘Sal,’ he says quietly. ‘That was harsh.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Your son has just made all of my dreams come true in one fell swoop. Can’t you forgive him for some misplaced boyish enthusiasm? I have.’

  ‘He’s not your child,’ I say. And instantly regret it when I see the look of hurt on Johnny’s face.

  ‘I might not be his dad, but I know a good kid when I see one.’

  ‘He’s breaking into garages, stealing stuff and smoking. From where I sit, I see a kid who’s going down the wrong track.’

  ‘Give him a break,’ Johnny begs. ‘He knows some of his behaviour was silly. But there’s no harm done.’

  ‘Silly?’

  ‘He’s ten,’ my friend points out. ‘We’ve all made mistakes.’

  ‘And my mistake is to bring him up here in this shitty place where people don’t know right from wrong.’

  ‘That’s not true, Sally. You’re over-reacting.’

  ‘I’ve every right to,’ I shout. ‘I’m his mother!’ Now I’m crying. I realise that I’m probably ruining Johnny’s big moment but I can’t help it. It feels as if all my fears are coming true. My ten-year-old son’s a burglar, a smoker, creeping round getting into mischief behind my back. I’ve always worried about the bad influences on him from being brought up here, but I thought I’d done a good job. A really good job. I thought I’d taught him how to behave properly. Seems that I’ve had my blinkers on. ‘I want him out of here,’ I say to Johnny. ‘I want him away from this estate. The sooner the better.’

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  Johnny has found the remnants of a bottle of cheap wine in the fridge. Must have been one that Debs brought round. He pours me a glass and hands it over.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I say, calmer now. ‘I’ve spoiled it for you.’

  Charlie has yet to reappear from his bedroom and he must be getting hungry by now. I feel emotionally drained.

  Johnny sits down next to me on the sofa and swigs at his own wine. He holds my hand. ‘Want to tell me what this is really all about?’

  ‘I don’t want my son to turn out to be a criminal.’

  Johnny gives me a sideways glance. ‘Sally.’

  I sigh at him. ‘I want Charlie to know a different life than this. I want him to have the childhood that I never did. I don’t want him breaking into garages for entertainment.’

  ‘Your son did this for me with every good intention.’

  ‘Isn’t that what the road to hell is paved with?’

  ‘He’s a good kid, Sal. You know that.’

  ‘He’s great,’ I say. ‘And I don’t want anything to change that. I have to get him away from the bad influences around here.’

  ‘You’ve seen how people have pulled together over this project. This is still a great place to live. Underneath a thin veneer of shabbiness, there still beats a very good heart.’

  ‘Do you really believe that?’

  ‘There’s a few bad apples, Sal. That’s all. Don’t think that means that the whole barrel is rotten.’

  I massage my temples, a headache coming on.

  ‘Maybe now that I’ve got this money coming to me I can do something to help you out.’

  ‘I don’t want you to do that, Johnny. Goodness only knows that you deserve the money yourself.’

  ‘Then what can I do to help?’

  I swallow down some more of my wine. ‘You can support me in the decision I’ve made.’ Within the last ten minutes, if I’m honest.

  ‘I always back you to the hilt, Sal. You know that.’

  Taking a deep breath, I say, ‘Spencer has asked me to marry him.’The colour drains from Johnny’s face. ‘I’ve decided to accept.’

  ‘Congratulations,’my friend says quietly. ‘Spencer’s a very lucky man.’

  ‘I haven’t told him yet.’

  ‘You told me first?’

  ‘You know how much you mean to me, Johnny. I wouldn’t have wanted you to find out from anyone else.’

  Johnny sighs. ‘I’d hoped to be in his position myself at one time. How did it all go so wrong?’

  ‘It means leaving here,’ I continue. ‘Leaving everyone behind.’ I daren’t meet Johnny’s eyes.

  ‘Are you sure that it’s what you want?’

  ‘It will be better for Charlie.’Voicing this out loud makes a lump come to my throat. ‘Spencer’s wealthy. His family home is enormous, set in its own grounds. Charlie will have freedom there that he could never have here. He’ll have opportunities that I could never dream of giving him.’

  ‘And you love Spencer enough to cut yourself off from everything you’ve ever known?’

  I nod, unable to speak. Tell me that I’d be crazy to turn this down, I urge Johnny silently. Or beg me not to. That’s the other stupid thought that’s running through my mind. Beg me to stay here. With you.

  My friend lets out an unsteady breath. ‘For some reason, I didn’t see this coming.’

  ‘Me neither,’ I confess.

  ‘You’ve always wanted out of here.’

  ‘But I hadn’t imagined it happening like this.’

  ‘If you think it’s the right thing, then you have to do it. You have to go.’

  ‘I do, don’t I?’ My voice is wavering. ‘We’ll keep in touch though. You and me. We’ve been through too much together. And, of course, there’s Charlie.’

  ‘We won’t.’ Johnny shakes his head sadly. ‘You’ll start your new life and will get caught up in it all. Maybe once a year you’ll remember to pick up the phone to me.’

  ‘It won’t be like that,’ I swear. Johnny has been my lover, my friend, my confidant, my child’s surrogate dad. ‘I couldn’t bear not to have you in our lives. We can organise for you to come down for the weekend, that kind of thing.’

  ‘Maybe.’ But my friend doesn’t look convinced. Then he stands up. He looks like a stranger to me with his smart suit and his tidy hair. ‘I wish I could have loved you better,’ Johnny says flatly.

  ‘I never felt as if you didn’t love me,’ I tell him.

  ‘I should have done things differently,’ he insists. ‘I know that now.’

  ‘And I should have appreciated you for the lovely, kind man that you are.’

  Johnny sighs. ‘It’s feels weird to be having this conversation now.’

  I nod in agreement, because I can’t find my voice.

  ‘I think I should be going. Come on, Ringo.’ The little dog pricks up his ears and rouses himself from his nap to rub against Johnny’s ankles.

  ‘Johnny.’ I don’t want him to go. I want to hold him back. I want him to stay here with me. With me and Charlie. I don’t even want his bloody dog to go.

  I follow Johnny to the door, a million conflicting thoughts going through m
y mind and I’m struggling not to break down and cry. But that would do neither of us any good. I’ve made my decision and I have to stay strong. I have to believe that this is the right thing. ‘I’m sorry that it didn’t work out between us. We could have been great together. In different circumstances. I know that it was me that blew it, but I did love you very much.’

  Johnny laughs. ‘My circumstances are different now. But it looks like it’s too late for us.’ He kisses me on the forehead, letting his warm lips linger a moment too long for a kiss between friends. ‘Be happy, Sally.’

  ‘And you.’ The words I love you want to break free from my mouth, but I won’t let them. I don’t love Johnny any more, not like that. I love Spencer. I’m going to marry him.

  Johnny leans on my door. ‘There’s one thing you can do for me, Sally. Forgive Charlie. Just think of the wonderful opportunity he’s created for me. Don’t be hard on him.’ He turns to go. ‘And tell him that I love him. I love him very much.’

  Chapter Eighty-Nine

  I make my son his favourite tea. Home-made meatballs in tomato sauce with Uncle Ben’s rice – not the cheap Save-It stuff, which, no matter what you do, always sticks together in one big lump.

  ‘Thanks, Mum,’ he says as he eats. His face is all blotchy from crying and now, of course, I feel terrible for shouting at him. Johnny’s right, he is a good boy and I ought to appreciate that more.

  ‘I’m sorry for being upset with you,’ I say. ‘But you can understand why.’

  Charlie nods. ‘I won’t do anything like that again,’ he promises.

  ‘Well, Johnny’s certainly pleased that you did.’

  He manages a wan smile at that.

  ‘It turned out well this time, Charlie. You might not have been so lucky.’

  ‘Yes, Mum,’ he says.

  ‘The people who got in after you were there could have caused a lot more damage. They could have ruined everything Johnny had worked so hard for – burned the place down, for instance. The police could have been involved. You might have been blamed. It was a very silly and thoughtless thing to do.’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’

  I toy with my own meatballs as we face each other across our tiny kitchen table. Looking round, I wonder how much longer I’m going to call this place home. Skanky as it is, I’m already starting to feel sentimental about it, perverse creature that I am. I have had some good times here with Debs, with Mrs Kapur and with Dora. And with Johnny.

  I plaster a smile on my face. ‘I’ve got some news to tell you. Some good news, I hope.’

  Charlie’s all ears.

  ‘Spencer has asked me to marry him,’ I continue. ‘And I want to say yes.’

  My son’s reaction is much the same as Johnny’s. A slight blanching. A resigned acceptance.

  ‘I know that it’s taken you a long time to get to like Spencer, but he really is a lovely man and he can offer both of us a much better future than we can have around here. His home is lovely. Very big. You’d have a massive room.’

  He looks aghast. ‘Spencer won’t live here?’

  ‘No,’ I say. ‘We’ll go to Surrey to live with him.’

  Charlie promptly bursts into tears, so I go round to his side of the table, kneeling beside him to comfort him.

  ‘Don’t cry, Son.’

  ‘Is this because I was naughty?’ he sobs as he clings to me. ‘I promise I won’t do it again. Never, ever. Don’t make me go to Surrey.’

  He makes it sound like a prison sentence rather than an opportunity to make a new life and better himself.

  ‘You’ve never seen it, silly,’ I chide. ‘You might love it.’

  ‘I won’t,’ he cries. ‘I know I won’t. Johnny won’t be there.’

  Stroking Charlie’s hair, I try to reassure him, saying, ‘Johnny can come to see us any time he likes.’

  ‘But it won’t be the same,’ Charlie insists tearfully. ‘It’ll never be the same again.’

  ‘Sometimes things have to change,’ I tell him. ‘And sometimes they’re for the best.’

  ‘I could stay here,’ Charlie suggests, suddenly hopeful. ‘You could go to Surrey with Spencer. I could stay here with Johnny and Ringo and Dana.’

  That takes me aback. My own child would rather stay here with Johnny and a strange woman than accompany me to a new life.

  ‘You know that can’t happen,’ I say. ‘You and I belong together. We’re a team.’ I punch his arm playfully and Charlie stares ruefully at the spot. ‘I know this is a shock, but just think about it. Maybe then it won’t seem quite so bad.’

  ‘I don’t want to go to Surrey,’ my son tells me. ‘And I don’t want you to marry Spencer.’

  ‘Sometimes,’ I say, ‘you have to trust me to do the right thing for both of us.’

  At that he gets up and runs into his bedroom, slamming the door, his favourite meatballs abandoned.

  I sigh and rub my eyes. He’ll come round – I’m sure he will. But the worry is, can I, Sally Freeman, Single Mum and Superwoman, trust myself that I’m doing the right thing?

  Chapter Ninety

  ‘Where are we going?’ Spencer wants to know.

  ‘You’ll see. Come on,’ I say. ‘We need to hurry up.’ I pull his arm and we dash along the waterfront, making our way from his apartment in the Albert Dock towards the Pier Head.

  I pay over ten quid for two tickets and we charge off down the gangway just in time to catch the Royal Daffodil ferry before it’s leaving.

  ‘Ferry across the Mersey,’ Spencer says approvingly. ‘How romantic.’

  This is an epic journey across the famous river made popular by the 1960s hit ‘Ferry ’Cross the Mersey’ by beat combo Gerry and the Pacemakers – in the days before ‘pacemaker’ referred to a medical appliance, of course, and was a good name for a pop group. If you ever find yourself in Liverpool, a ferry across the Mersey has to be done.

  We eschew the upper saloon, which is done out like a bad 1970s disco with swirly carpet and patterned banquettes, and, instead, make our way up to the promenade deck to stand on the back of the boat, shivering in the cold. The hit song blasts out over the PA system and I daren’t listen too closely to the lyrics, which are all about never, ever leaving Liverpool, because that would make me well sad. And right now I want to feel nothing but happiness.

  With a hearty belch of diesel smoke, we cast off. The Royal Daffodil lurches off on her well-trodden path and her engines chug and churn their way through the grey-green, foamy waters of the Mersey as they’ve done for years and years.

  Because of the threatened rain, there are few tourists on here today, most of them probably sensibly opting for the indoor attractions of the museums and maybe the Tate Liverpool. I try not to think of Johnny and the fact that his paintings will soon be hanging in there alongside some of the most famous artists in the world, and that tourists will marvel over his work too.

  Today is cooler, a definite change in the temperature. There’s a biting breeze on the river and I wonder how much is left of the hot Indian summer weather we’ve enjoyed for so long. Are we already on the slow, steady slide into autumn? I’m certainly glad that I put a jacket on. We lean on the railings at the back of the ferry and look out. Spencer’s hair is being whipped about his face, but he’s still smiling.

  The seagulls wheel on the air, calling out to no one in particular. A mist has settled on the river and the clouds are massing, but the sun is still making a valiant effort to puncture them. Spray from the bow wave dampens our faces. I pull my jacket around me and huddle into Spencer’s chest for warmth.

  ‘This is a nice surprise,’ he says, his words being snatched by the wind.

  Charlie’s at school and I’ve persuaded Spencer to bunk off from doing all his paperwork this afternoon to take him on this mystery tour.

  I think of my son and get a pang of guilt. He’s still not happy about my decision, and nothing I have yet been able to say has changed his mind. Still, I have to remember that I’m doing this for the
best and be sure in the knowledge that – like making him clean his teeth after every meal and feeding him broccoli at every opportunity – one day Charlie will thank me for this.

  Spencer and I watch the magnificent Three Graces – the Liver Building, the Cunard Building and the Port of Liverpool Building – grow smaller as we make our way across the river. The new skyscrapers inch towards the sky and the converted warehouses along the Albert Dock give the area an affluent, upcoming feel. This is the port that first put Liverpool on the map as an important trading centre for the world, and now it feels as if Liverpool has stamped its place back on the map with a vengeance – and I’m kind of sad that I won’t be here to enjoy it.

  The predicted rain starts to fall, puckering the surface of the river. Soon all the wooden benches hold pools of water, which ensures that we have the deck all to ourselves.

  As we get into our stride out in the river, and the posh houses over on the Wirral start to come into view, I turn to face my boyfriend and say, ‘Remember you asked me a very important question recently?’

  Spencer shrugs. ‘Of course. I hadn’t forgotten.’

  ‘Neither had I.’ Looking into his eyes, I swallow the gulp that’s lodged in my throat. ‘The answer’s yes.’

  It takes Spencer a moment to digest that as he tries to blink it into his brain. ‘Yes?’

  I nod. ‘Yes.’

  Spencer laughs out loud, shouting into the wind, ‘She said yes!’

  Then I laugh too as he picks me up and spins me round. The rain pelts down on us.

  ‘You do mean it?’ he asks.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Yes!’ He spins me again.

  At this moment, I know that I’ve made the very best decision that I could. It’s the right thing to be doing. Spencer and I can conquer any opposition to our marriage. We’ll make it right with Charlie. We’ll make it right with Spencer’s parents and all his snooty friends. Johnny and Dana will come and visit us regularly and we’ll all be the best of mates. I will have my happy-ever-after.