This Has Been Absolutely Lovely

by Jessica Dettmann

  When he moved on, Annie spoke. ‘Why didn’t you stop the affair once Ray knew?’

  Heather shrugged. ‘Your dad and I were enjoying ourselves. I didn’t see why we should stop. There was nothing else to do. You were gone. I didn’t have any other friends. What was I going to do, eat biscuits and knit things for the op shop like your mum and her cronies? Robbie tried to ditch me, but I kept going back over there and he couldn’t resist. Things only changed when I was pregnant. Then he acted like nothing had happened. It made me want to kill him.

  ‘Ray wanted me to leave — he tried to get me to go — but then I got pregnant and he couldn’t kick me out. Patrick came and he was besotted. I told him Patrick was his baby. Said the dates didn’t work for Robert to be the father.’

  ‘Then why did you leave, and take Patrick?’

  ‘I got too bored. I couldn’t live in that house for the rest of my life. I didn’t want to turn into Jean. At first I wasn’t going to take the baby,’ she admitted. ‘In the end I think I did it to hurt Ray. And because I knew what people thought of women who ditch their kids. And I never told Patrick that Ray wasn’t his dad. But he came back and found Ray, when he turned eighteen, and bloody Ray told him he wasn’t his real father. Turns out he’d known all along.’

  ‘And Ray had loved Patrick anyway, like he was his own, and you took that away from them, for sixteen years.’ Annie spoke like she was passing down a sentence in court.

  ‘Oh boo-hoo,’ said Heather. ‘Worse things happen. Ray only told him the truth to make me look bad.’

  ‘Maybe he told him the truth because Patrick had a right to know who his father was.’

  Heather scoffed. ‘Maybe. Anyway, I gave Patrick a way more exciting life. We lived everywhere.’

  Annie shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about this any more. What was the point? ‘Why are you still here, Heather? Ray’s dead. Patrick doesn’t want you. Why don’t you go lead your exciting life somewhere else?’

  Heather smiled. ‘I wondered when you’d ask me that. I’ve decided to challenge Ray’s will.’

  ‘What? On what grounds?’

  ‘On the grounds that legally I am still his wife, and he wasn’t Patrick’s biological father.’

  ‘Did Ray leave the house to Patrick?’

  ‘He left it all to Patrick. But that won’t stand up in court. Not once I tell them the truth.’

  ‘I think it costs money to contest a will. Can you afford to do that?’

  Heather flicked her hair back confidently. ‘I’ll borrow it. You’ve got to spend money to make money. I thought I’d tell you, because you should probably do the right thing and give half of Robert’s house to Patrick before he sues you for it. Otherwise he’ll be left with nothing. After all, he is your brother.’ Heather folded her arms and looked expectantly at Annie.

  But Annie just shook her head again in disbelief. ‘Heather, I’m going home now. I don’t think you’ll contest the will. You haven’t got the admin skills. I hope you go away and leave Patrick alone. He’s better off without you. Some kids are, you know, better off without their mothers, at a certain point.’ She turned and walked away, between the dunes, through the car park, over the street and back to Baskerville Road.

  * * *

  The front door to Ray’s house was standing open when Annie got back. She went up the steps and called out. ‘Anyone home? Patrick?’

  Patrick’s voice called back, ‘Annie? I’ll just be a second. Come in.’

  She walked down the cool hall and waited in the kitchen. A large gift-wrapped box sat on the table. Shit, she thought. She hadn’t bought Paul and Brian a present. Hosting the wedding and helping Patrick arrange Ray’s roses were surely enough, though.

  Patrick came in, still drying off his hair with a towel, wearing a pale pink linen shirt and light trousers.

  ‘You look nice,’ she told him.

  ‘Thanks. I don’t have many clothes with me, so I hope this is fancy enough.’

  ‘Paul and Brian will be overdressed to the nines,’ she assured him, ‘and they won’t care a single bit about what anyone else wears. Anyway, how are you feeling?’

  ‘I’m all right,’ he said. ‘Better than I thought I’d be. I’m glad he’s not in pain. I’m happy he isn’t suffering, but I miss him. It probably won’t be so bad once the funeral’s done and I’m not in his house any more.’

  ‘It’ll always be bad some days, and not as bad other days. Grief’s weird like that.’

  ‘That’s what Naomi said.’

  ‘She knows things, my Naomi,’ said Annie. She fiddled with the curled ribbon on the gift. ‘I saw Heather. Just now, at the beach. I think she followed me.’

  Patrick nodded. ‘She was here earlier. She came to tell me she’s going to sue me for this house.’

  ‘I don’t think she can,’ said Annie.

  Patrick shook his head. ‘I don’t care. I’m going to give it to her.’

  ‘Why?’ Annie couldn’t keep the disdain from her voice.

  ‘She’s my mother. Yeah, she’s dreadful, and selfish and narcissistic, but she gave me life. I’m grateful.’

  ‘But she also gave you a shitty upbringing. She lied to you and took you away from someone who loved you and would have given you a great childhood.’

  ‘Yeah. But I’m all right. And I can earn money. She can’t. She never has, not legally. So I’m going to give her the house. I imagine she’ll sell it. You won’t have to live next door to her.’

  ‘God, you’re a very good person, aren’t you? How about my — sorry — our father’s will? You should have half the value of his house, by rights.’

  ‘I don’t want that. I’m not going to make you sell your family home so I can get the money.’

  ‘I’m probably going to sell anyway. All three of my kids could use a chunk of cash right now. That’s more use to them than a house. So I could give you half the proceeds.’

  ‘Annie, you’re a good person too.’ He looked sadly at her. ‘Was our father really a total shit? I hate to think that, because we’re not bad.’

  Annie smiled ruefully. ‘I hope he wasn’t. I don’t think anyone’s a total anything. My dad did some inexcusable things, and I know he could be cruel, but he was also wonderful. He loved me so much. He was the most supportive person in my life.’ She began to cry. ‘I wish I’d never found out about the other stuff.’

  Patrick put his arm around her shoulder. ‘Don’t let all that eclipse your other memories of him. Everyone makes mistakes.’

  Annie sniffed and patted him on the arm. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry for saying that. You’re part of the other stuff and I’m glad I found you. And you’re a very generous person. Thank you, Patrick. I’d better get back. I’ve got an ex-husband to shift.’

  Chapter 39

  Molly was standing in front of the mirror in the sunroom, attempting in vain to make the straps of her dress cover the thick elastic of her feeding bra. She needed double-sided tape to keep it in place, but heaven only knew where such a thing would be, if there even was any in the house. She satisfied herself by draping a scarf around her shoulders and knotting it behind her. That would have to do. The reflection in the mirror didn’t even look like her.

  She thought about her own wedding day, almost two years before. They’d had a registry office ceremony, just the immediate families, then a piss-up at a pub with all their mates. It had been so casual it almost didn’t feel like a wedding. No bridesmaids, no being given away, just the basics. Maybe they had been a bit embarrassed to be doing it so much earlier than all their contemporaries.

  ‘Molly?’ came her father’s voice from the doorway. He came in. ‘You look beautiful.’

  ‘I don’t, but it’s okay. Thanks for saying it anyway. You’re the one who looks beautiful.’ He did too. Paul wore a baby blue three-piece suit over a white shirt and no tie. His collar was open. ‘You all ready?’

  ‘Almost,’ he said, with a funny look.

  ‘What?’


  ‘Sweetheart, I know when your mum and I split up, you found it harder than Naomi and Simon. You were so much younger. I’m really sorry. And we never really talked about it, did we? Everyone was just so kind to us. But it got to you, I know.’

  Molly interrupted him. ‘Dad! No, I’m fine with you and Brian. Really. Always have been.’

  He took her hand. ‘You haven’t always been fine, and I get it. It made me sad, because I knew what I did hurt you. But I had to do it. I know it isn’t about me being gay, it’s just about your parents getting divorced. It was so hard for you. I felt like I’d let you down. I wanted you to admire me, and you didn’t any more.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Molly.

  ‘You were a kid: you don’t need to be sorry. I shouldn’t have needed your approval.’

  ‘I’m still sorry. It wasn’t ever about you and Brian, Dad. It was that you left. You picked him over us. London. Neither of you made a sacrifice to be with us.’

  ‘I know that now,’ Paul said, shaking his head sadly. ‘I’m really ashamed. I don’t know why I felt like I needed to be out of this city, but I did.’

  ‘People can’t always do what they think they need to do,’ Molly told him. ‘Sometimes you have to do what’s right.’

  ‘And sometimes you don’t know what the right thing is until you’ve done the wrong thing,’ he said. ‘Molly, I’m sorry. I made such a big mistake. I hope we can start to fix it. I hope I can be around more for you now than I used to be. Brian and I have been talking, and we think I should stay on for a bit. We’ll go on our honeymoon, but, then, if you want, I can come back here and stay, do a bit of looking after my granddaughter.’

  Molly couldn’t speak, but she nodded, fighting back tears. She and Jack wouldn’t be leaving immediately. Having her dad around more would be really helpful. Even having him offer made her feel stronger.

  ‘And there’s one more thing. I want to ask you something, and it’s all right if you say no. I won’t be offended. There’s no pressure. Will you give me away at my wedding?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Molly, and the tears rolled down her cheeks.

  ‘Don’t,’ said Paul, crying too. ‘We can’t be all red-eyed in the photos.’

  Molly laughed and snorted. ‘It won’t matter. We’ll still be the prettiest ones here.’

  * * *

  Felix and Sunny climbed the ladder to the treehouse to watch the wedding. It was still the aluminium ladder, leaned against the tree. No one had found time to make a new rope one. Earlier in the afternoon they had carefully carried up a battery-operated bubble machine, and it was their responsibility to switch it on when given the signal by the celebrant.

  By the time Annie had showered and changed, everyone was assembled out in the garden. Brian stood at the front, resplendent in a mint-coloured suit. Annie hurried along the hall carpet, which now ran across the patio, to the first of two rows of seats, where a chair had a sign on it reading reserved for Annie in Felix’s best printing. Jane was sitting beside it and she patted the seat. Annie smiled gratefully at her friend and sat.

  ‘What did they say?’ Jane asked. ‘Did you get on to whoever rang?’

  Annie took her hand and squeezed it. ‘You’ve got some work to do, manager. I think I’m going to LA to write some more songs.’ She felt like her heart would explode.

  Jane didn’t even look surprised. She squeezed Annie’s hand back. ‘Good. Good call, Thorne.’

  Annie was about to tell her all about Lizzie and Celeste, and Juniper Wrenn, when the opening chords of the processional rang out from the stereo. The descending piano was as familiar to her as her own name, and she was instantly filled with a deep happiness. Petula Clark. It was her mother’s favourite song, ‘I Couldn’t Live Without Your Love’.

  She looked up and saw rose petals falling from the sky, flung down from the treehouse by Sunny and Felix. At the end of the aisle stood Paul, his arm linked with Molly’s. Their eyes were red, but they were both giggling as they began to walk towards Brian.

  The song finished and the ceremony began. The celebrant, an old friend of Brian’s called Kate, spoke thoughtfully and kindly of their love, their long and winding road to this day, and the bright future that lay ahead. Annie could hear in her words the work Brian and Paul had obviously put into making this respectful of her, and their peculiar situation, and she was grateful. Brian and Paul exchanged vows — the traditional ones, she noted, promising to love and honour one another until death — and rings.

  Kate smiled. ‘Brian and Paul, you have come here today of your own free will, and in the presence of your family and friends have declared your love and commitment to each other. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you married.’

  Brian and Paul kissed, everyone burst into applause and cheers, and, as Felix reached for the on-switch of the bubble machine, he bumped a nail that had been only lightly tapped into the railing around the treehouse. Around the nail Simon had wrapped the end of a string of large lightbulbs, which stretched across from the house, and in that moment the cord slipped, sending the bulbs crashing to the ground, where they smashed along the aisle.

  ‘Mazel Tov!’ shouted Jane.

  ‘Fuck,’ exclaimed Simon, as others gasped and everyone checked that no one had been hurt.

  Naomi looked at the broken glass and nodded calmly. ‘That was Pa. I was expecting something. But I think he’s done now. He’s had his say.’

  * * *

  After the ceremony and the cleaning up of broken glass, they stood around with glasses of Champagne. The golden summer evening light filtered away the years from their faces. Annie gave Jane a longer explanation of her phone call, and Jane bounced on the spot with excitement.

  ‘This could be a thing, Thorne. An actual thing.’

  ‘It certainly does bear more than a passing resemblance to a thing, Jane,’ Annie agreed. ‘But it might not be a thing. We’ll have to wait and see.’

  Jane looked past her and sipped her Champagne. ‘Oh, it’s a thing all right. I’ve seen enough things in my time to know a thing when it’s in front of me.’

  Jack and Simon had moved the chairs and the carpet off the patio and Brian and Paul were getting ready for their first dance, which they wanted to get out of the way before everyone ate Diana’s rather heavy dinner, likely as it was to lead more in the direction of somnolence than dancing.

  ‘Bets on their first dance song?’ said Jane. ‘I’m thinking . . . “Careless Whisper”.’

  ‘No, it’ll be something upbeat,’ said Annie. ‘My money’s on “Go West”.’

  ‘Village People or Pet Shop Boys?’

  ‘Pet Shop Boys, obviously.’

  ‘Obviously.’

  The music started and Annie had to listen for a moment before she could place it. It was from a musical. Hamilton. It was ‘Helpless’. A strange choice, she thought, but then, as she listened to the lyrics, she understood.

  It was a bittersweet tale of two people meeting and falling in love at a ball. It was the story of a love triangle, with a deep undertow of longing.

  Annie felt desperately sad. Paul and Brian had loved each other from the beginning: she could see that now. Her whole life, what had become her whole life, was an interruption of someone else’s love story. Watching them sway, holding each other close in the twilight, she knew what she’d had with Paul wasn’t this. It had never been this.

  Jane took Annie’s hand again. ‘Put it in your songs, Thorne. That’s where pain needs to go. If you put it into art it transforms. That’s literally the only point of any creative endeavour. It’s just fucking misery apart from that. Let’s profit from your pain. Let’s transcend it. Give me your glass. You need more Champagne.’

  After ‘Helpless’, the next song was indeed ‘Go West’, and everyone else took to the dance floor. Annie felt vindicated. She knew Brian and Paul so well.

  ‘Dance, Mum?’ Simon was at her elbow.

  ‘In a minute,’ she said.

  �
�It doesn’t have to be with me,’ he said. ‘Justin’s here too.’ He gave her a cheeky grin.

  ‘I’m okay for now,’ she said. ‘Go dance with Diana.’ She watched as he awkwardly boogied his way over to his wife, as if attempting a much-needed apology through the medium of interpretive dance.

  She felt an arm slip around her waist. ‘Hello, Mumma,’ said Molly.

  Annie’s heart fell. She had to tell her. ‘Darling.’ How could she say it?

  ‘Mum,’ said Molly, and her voice shook with nerves. ‘I need to tell you something. Jack and I have been talking. We think we might go away. Do some travelling. I think we’re going to sell the flat. Which I know is probably a terrible idea, because once you’re out of the property market you never get back in, and it will be hard to sell now with the concrete cancer and everything, but we’re going to do it anyway. We’re still pretty young, and we think it would be cool to show Petula the world. Well, for us to see the world a bit too. I know we’ll regret it later, and we won’t have a house and all that, but we might take that chance.’

  ‘I think it’s a really good idea,’ said Annie. ‘It’s a brave thing to do. You’ve got to be brave, Molly, it’s the only way. Putting off the things you want to do — it doesn’t make them go away. Now is a good time for you guys to do this.’

  Molly looked surprised. ‘I thought you’d be mad. After I made such a fuss about you helping me look after Petula and everything.’

  ‘I’ll survive. Maybe I’ll try the music idea again.’

  ‘You should,’ said Molly encouragingly. ‘I don’t know how good your songs are, Mum. I don’t know if they’re objectively better than other people’s songs. I like them. But then I like lots of songs. I do get now that it’s about the need you have to make them and share them. Maybe one day something will grab me like that. A passion. I’d like it to. Maybe it won’t, though. Maybe I’ll just be a person who lives a life, and does a job, and tries to have fun with her family and her kids and her friends.’

  ‘And that would be a perfectly wonderful and very worthwhile way to live,’ Annie told her firmly. ‘Will you dance with me?’