by Anna Bell
Chapter 33
I open the door and Mum’s standing there clutching a big stack of travel brochures with a huge grin on her face. She stops smiling immediately when she sees my tear-stained face.
‘Izzy, what’s wrong?’
‘It’s Aidan, we broke up.’
She pulls me into a hug before she shuts the door and leads me through to the sofa.
‘What happened? You were so happy.’
‘We were. He took me away for a romantic night away and it was so wonderful and then…’
Mum takes off her coat and scarf whilst raising an eyebrow.
‘And then?’
She leans forward and takes my hand.
‘It ended,’ I say, shrugging. I can’t relive it again. My mum will be so disappointed in me.
‘It was all my fault, Mum.’
‘I’m sure it seems worse than it is. I’m sure if you talked to him—’
‘I’ve tried but I can’t get hold of him. He’s not answering his phone and I keep going to his house but I don’t think he’s living there at the moment. His business partner won’t tell me where he is. I don’t know how else to get hold of him.’
‘Oh, love. I’m sure he’ll calm down. Everything seems better in time.’
‘Does it?’ I hope she’s right. I think back to the weekend with Aidan and the feeling of utter bliss and utter contentment I’d had. I can’t believe I’ll never have that again.
I point at the brochures.
‘Has Dad finally persuaded you to go away?’
‘Yes, but we don’t need to talk about that now.’
‘Why do you two keep trying to hide the fact that you want to go away? What am I missing?’
‘It’s about where we’re getting the money for the trip,’ she says, pulling at the sleeve of her jumper.
Suddenly it all falls into place.
‘You’re selling the house? Aren’t you?’
‘We don’t need to talk about it today.’
‘Mum, it’s OK.’
She takes a deep breath.
‘We had an agent round to value it last week and we’ve decided it makes sense for us to downsize. We’re thinking of getting somewhere small, close to town,’ she says. ‘Your dad’s been trying to persuade me to travel before it’s too late.’
‘You’re not that old.’
‘No, we’re not, but we’ve got to do the things whilst we’re still fit and have the energy to do it. I fancy New Zealand and your dad wants to do Peru and we always said we’d go to Mauritius.’
‘How long are you going for?’ I say, thinking that I’ve got so used to having them round the corner.
‘Don’t worry, we’re not going off indefinitely. We figured we’d go away a few weeks a year. That way we won’t get travel fatigue.’
I try not to show my relief. I don’t think I could have coped if they’d have gone away for a whole year.
‘That sounds great, I’m happy for you.’
‘You are?’ she says, looking me in the eye. ‘You’re not too sad about us selling the house? I’ve been so worried.’
‘Of course I am a little, but sometimes I find it hard to go and see you there. I can’t imagine what it’s like to actually live in it, with all the memories.’
‘I hadn’t thought about it until your dad started talking about selling and I started to realise that it had stopped feeling like home a long time ago,’ Mum admits.
I open a brochure of tours in South America.
‘I’m really glad you’re moving on.’
‘Yes, and I wish you would too. Have you thought about writing to Aidan?’
‘Writing? No, I haven’t. What happened with him… it’s complicated.’
‘Did you cheat on him?’
‘Not in the conventional sense, but in some ways.’
She stands up from the sofa. ‘I’m going to put the kettle on and you’re going to tell me all about it. OK?’
I feel like I’m a little girl again and I don’t dare disobey.
‘OK, Mum,’ I say, and when she comes back with the piping hot tea, I start to tell her all about it.
I come to the end of the story and there’s a pause. My mum’s facial expression is so neutral it’s like she’s advertising for Switzerland.
‘Well,’ she says. ‘I wasn’t expecting that. I knew that you were into the whole Instagram thing, but teaming up with Luke.’
‘I know,’ I say, wincing. ‘I don’t know how I let it get so out of control. I can’t blame it all on Ben dying. Everyone else is doing well. Becca’s getting serious with Gareth and you and Dad are selling the house and planning exciting adventures. It hasn’t made you all implode.’
Mum puts her empty teacup down on the table.
‘We’re all struggling still, you know that, right?’
‘I didn’t mean to imply that you’re not still grieving,’ I say, feeling awful that I’ve caused offence.
‘No, I meant the reason that we didn’t implode is that we had you to look after us. On a bad day you were the one I’d phone and I know Becca was the same, that’s why you moved in with her. Don’t you see, you’ve been supporting us through our grief but we haven’t been supporting you through yours. I don’t know how I didn’t see it, but you seemed so together.’
‘I wasn’t,’ I say, realising how much I’ve been bottling up. ‘I guess I just dealt with it in different ways.’
‘Like creating a fantasy online life.’
‘I sound like a nutter,’ I say, laughing.
‘I think you sound like a genius. I’ve wanted to escape so much from it over the last few years and you found a way to.’
‘It didn’t work very well, though, did it?’
‘I think it might have got a bit out of hand.’
‘A bit?’
‘I wish you’d told us how you were feeling and what was going on. I always called you when I was low and I wish you’d done the same.’
‘But it’s different with you, isn’t it? Everyone expects you to feel low. You’re the mother, you lost your son. Becca lost her fiancé.’
‘What is this, grief Top Trumps? I don’t get extra points because I gave birth to him. He was your brother, Izzy, you spent your entire childhood with him. Maybe you spent more time with him than I did when you were both growing up.’
Tears start rolling down my face.
‘You lost him too, Izzy, and perhaps we all need to be reminded of that.’
She leans over and hugs me again as I sob into her arms and I don’t let her go.
‘I’ve messed it all up,’ I splutter.
‘Nothing that can’t be fixed. Come on, Izzy. You’ll get through this. And if it doesn’t work out I’ve still got Roger Davenport’s phone number from that night at the ice hockey. I ran into his mum in the supermarket the other day and he’s still single.’
‘Mum,’ I groan.
‘Too soon to joke? Come on, you’ll figure it out like you always do.’
‘I don’t know if I’m strong enough,’ I whisper.
‘Then we’ll hold you up. You’re going to get through this.’
I can only hope that she’s right because I don’t think I can cope with a broken heart for much longer.
Welcome to March
This_Izzy_Loves
No. Followers: 16.4k Instagram post:
I’m posting this on all my channels to say that I’m coming off social media due to the escalation of trolls. Instagram is somewhere that I’ve always felt safe and I’ve genuinely loved getting to know all my followers. I am so sorry if I’ve hurt or misled anyone, please know that that was never my intention. And don’t believe everything you read or see: remember, there are always two sides to every story. I want to thank all my genuine and loyal followers. I’ve had an incredible journey but at this point in time I’m unsure if I’ll ever come back on here. Thank you and I’m sorry, Izzy x x x
April
Tattle Life Thread: Who misses
This_Izzy_Loves???????
Karen1982DT:
Does anyone really miss Izzy? I used to love her stories and her lust for life. She was never up herself and I adored her shopping hauls. No one raids H&M like her. Please come back, Izzy, we miss you, hun!!!
GeriBestBath:
I miss her too. But still cross about what she did to Luke. I’d love her to explain herself though as maybe there was more to it? Either way I’d love to see her back on here. My feed’s a duller place without her.
Chapter 34
There’s a knock at the door and I climb off the sofa. I used to be jumpy when the door buzzed or knocked thinking it was Aidan, but I’ve long since abandoned any hope that he will come. I sent him a long letter explaining everything and I’ve taken his silence as a sign that I should move on.
I’m expecting it to be Marissa. She and Leah are on their way over to spend the afternoon with Becca and me, and I’m guessing someone let her in.
I peer through the keyhole and take a step backwards in surprise.
‘Hello,’ I say, pulling open the door to find Gareth. ‘I’m afraid Becca’s not here, I thought she was with you.’
‘She was, but it’s you I wanted to see,’ he says, leaning over and giving me a bear hug. ‘I just want you to know that Becca told me about Ben.’
‘Oh,’ I say, pulling back. ‘Is everything OK with you and her? Is she OK?’
‘She’s fine. She’s in the car. I wanted to talk to you before she came up. Just us.’
‘OK,’ I say, ushering him inside to the lounge where we sit down at opposite ends of the sofa.
‘You know that I’ve asked Becca to move in with me?’
I nod. She confided in me a few weeks ago that she didn’t know what to do.
‘Well, last night she finally told me that what’s been holding her back was her need to tell me the truth. I was really bricking it, worrying about what she was going to say and then she told me about Ben. I was upset at first, more because I felt hurt that she didn’t trust me to tell me, but then the more she talked the more I understood.
‘And then she told me about you and what you’ve been doing for her since it happened. I think she’s worried that if she moves out she’ll lose you – so I wanted you to know that you’ll always be welcome at our house. You might not be related by blood to Becca but you’re family to her and I don’t want to get in the way of that. Same for your parents, too, they’ll always be welcome.’
My heart is bursting for Becca. She honestly couldn’t have found a better man to fall in love with.
‘Thank you, Gareth, that means a lot.’
‘Good, and they’re not just words. When we do move in together you’re not to be a stranger. OK?’
‘OK,’ I say, nodding.
He leans over and gives me a hug again. He’s not a natural hugger and it’s quite stiff and awkward – much like my impression of him up until now – but I’m starting to see there’s so much more to him.
‘I’m going to go and let you have your girls’ afternoon.’
I smile in thanks and he lets himself out.
A couple of minutes later the door opens again and Becca walks through cradling baby Leah.
‘Look who I found on the doorstep.’
‘She didn’t literally find her on the doorstep before you question my mothering skills. I was holding her at the time,’ says Marissa, strolling in behind.
I go over to Leah and give her a kiss on the head, before hugging both of the girls.
‘Did your talk with Gareth go OK?’ Becca asks. ‘Sorry, he didn’t give me any advance warning, he just pulled up and leapt out of the car.’
‘Don’t worry. It was lovely of him. I can totally appreciate what you see in him.’
She beams and spins Leah around.
‘And you,’ says Marissa, pointing at me. ‘Look at you. You look great.’
I’ve got a sort of hybrid look going on. Apparently serums have moved on since my twenties and with a bit of experimenting I’ve managed to wrestle my curls under control.
‘Thanks, I’m feeling a lot better this week.’
‘What do we want to drink – tea or something stronger?’ she asks, handing Leah to me.
‘Perhaps a little bit of fizz. Celebrate the fact that I’m feeling a bit more like my old self.’ I pull an exaggerated face at Leah. ‘I can’t believe how big she’s getting.’
‘I know – she’s not a newborn anymore. Thank God. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I didn’t enjoy it but it’s just been one big sleep-deprived haze. And look – now she smiles and interacts with you.’
She starts cooing over my shoulder at her daughter before she sits down on the sofa.
‘So how’s she going down on Insta? How’s her hashtag going?’
‘Actually, I’ve made my account private and deleted loads of people.’
‘What?’ I startle Leah and I have to jiggle her a little more to make her happy again.
‘Well, when she was born I suddenly didn’t like people liking and commenting on her when I didn’t know them. It made me question why I needed random strangers to validate my life, so I did a massive cull.’
‘Wow,’ I say, at a loss for words.
‘I know. An end of an era, huh?’
We hear the pop of the Prosecco cork and Becca quickly walks through with a tray of glasses and hands them to us.
I struggle to hold both Leah and a flute so Marissa lifts her off me and handles them both effortlessly.
‘Don’t judge me. I’ve become the master of doing everything with one hand.’
‘No judgement here,’ I say, sipping my drink, ‘only admiration.’
‘So what’s behind today’s smiles?’ asks Marissa.
I take another sip and let the bubbles fizz on my tongue.
‘I had my appraisal at work a few days ago and it made me realise a few things.’
Becca raises an eyebrow in my direction. ‘Like?’
‘Like the fact that I love the working environment at McKinley’s. And that you were right, Marissa, about employers looking favourably at my Instagram experience. After I chatted to my boss, Howard, he set up a meeting for me with the Marketing department, and whilst they don’t have any openings at the moment, they’ve offered to mentor me and hopefully if something does come up I might be able to move across.’
‘Wow, that’s great,’ says Marissa.
‘Yes, and the best bit is, if I do move departments I’ll still get to don my double denim for our B*witched act.’
‘I can’t believe you’ve been roped into that,’ says Becca, sniggering.
‘I know! So much for getting spare time back after Instagram. Mrs Harris has organised us rehearsals with vocal coaches and choreographers nearly every night after work.’
‘Has she heard you sing?’ asks Becca.
‘Not yet – you’re going to have to give me lessons.’
‘I’d be happy to,’ says Becca. ‘I’m really proud of you for getting yourself together in spite of everything.’
‘I’m proud of me too. It feels like something is going right for me for the right reasons.’
‘Plus I bet it helps not to see dick-face at work,’ says Marissa.
I gulp down a bigger sip of my drink.
‘That does help, a lot.’
‘Do you know what he’s up to now?’ asks Becca.
‘I don’t. I deleted Instagram off my phone and I haven’t heard from him since.’
Marissa looks sheepish.
‘You know, don’t you?’
‘I might be posting less, but I still look at it a lot and I haven’t stopped following Luke.’
‘So what’s he doing?’
‘More of the same. He’s doing a lot of photos with really obscure captions so you wonder what the tenuous link is until you get to the hashtag ad at the end.’
‘I hate those ads. I know influencers have to make money, but I hate them shoehorning it in. At least th
is thing worked out well for someone.’ I take a deep breath, disappointed in the karma of it all.
I finish the rest of my drink and go to top it up, offering to fill up the girls’ only to see they’ve barely touched theirs.
‘Let’s have a look at his feed then,’ I say, reaching over and picking up Marissa’s phone.
‘I don’t think you should – look how good you were doing,’ says Becca.
‘Come on, I just want to see the odd picture,’ I say. ‘I promise I won’t comment.’
‘I wish you bloody would,’ says Marissa. ‘But from your phone, not mine. He shouldn’t be getting away with what he did.’
I shrug my shoulders. ‘He’s quit his job, it’s his livelihood now.’
‘But he ruined your chances of being an influencer.’
‘And probably did me a favour.’
I hold the phone in front of Marissa’s face and she reluctantly taps in her key code. My fingers waste no time navigating to Instagram and I home straight in on his story.
He’s standing in the gym doing weights and I don’t care what he has to say. I click instead on his profile and scroll through the pictures of him. His photos look slicker and more polished but I guess he’s a pro now and has more time to spend on them.
I scroll down far enough to be confronted with the photo of me and Aidan and I can’t help clicking on it to see it again.
‘Izzy, don’t do it to yourself,’ says Marissa, leaning over.
‘Look how happy we were.’ I turn the phone to show her and she gives me a look of pity.
It’s then that I notice the little blue dot to indicate that there’s another picture. I know I was angry when I saw the post originally, but how had I not seen that? I scroll across to find a different photo of Aidan and me – one that I’ve never seen before. Aidan’s so close and it looks like we’re about to kiss. It’s beautiful and it shows so much love and I feel a tear rolling down my cheek.
‘I love that photo,’ says Marissa. ‘You both look so in love. When did Luke take it?’