by Daisy Burton
The meal was astonishing. The sea bream she ordered tasted different to any other she’d eaten, and she wished she could describe it better than ‘it tastes of the sea’, but it honestly did. Once they’d eaten their fill, they had liqueurs on one of the benches by the river. It was a bit chilly by that point, but Sal had come prepared with a matching cardigan, and that was sufficient to keep her from shivering.
“Not going to get your feet wet here, then?” Doug seemed genuinely surprised as he sipped his Southern Comfort.
“No, it’s dirty where I’d have to sit and I’ve got my posh togs on; I can’t get them filthy purely to get my feet wet. Anyway, it’s chilly now.”
“But you would otherwise, wouldn’t you?” Doug knew her so well. “You’re happiest when you’re barefoot.”
“Too bloody right!”
*****
By the time they got back to the flat, it was getting dark and there was nothing good on TV, so she put the kettle on, intending to sit and read for a bit.
She found herself watching Doug from her vantage point, as he was mooching around, starting to get a few things together to pack. He’d given her such an amazing week when she had most needed it and she was hit with a feeling of overwhelming gratitude towards him. She was beginning to feel like herself again, which was weird because she simply wasn’t sure who she was anymore.
She found herself walking up to him, putting her arms around his neck and gently nuzzling into his chest. It was her recently discovered place of safety.
“Thank-you so much,” she mumbled. “For this, for everything. It’s been wonderful.”
He looked as if he was blushing, but he wrapped his arms right around her, and stroked her hair as they stood in the living room.
“Ah, you’re welcome, sweets,” he murmured. “Thank you, too. I’ve had the most brilliant time, and that’s down to you.”
When they pulled apart, they were both smiling gently, without a shred of embarrassment. Doug’s eyes were shining and she felt a pang of something in her stomach.
She went to get the tea and some saffron buns they’d got that day, slathered with local butter and they piled onto the sofa together: Doug with his free arm around her, Sal holding her mug to keep her warm and resting her head on his chest.
It was perfection. Why couldn’t it always be like this?
*****
Sal felt a twinge of sadness as they left Devon on the M5 and headed up towards the M4. For the whole drive home, Sal tried to figure out why she felt so much better around Doug. It felt as if he’d changed her life for the better, and this week away had given her the headspace to make a few important decisions. Now, she just had to put them into place.
They chatted, sang along to the radio and enjoyed the occasional comfortable silences during the long journey. As Sal dropped him off at his place, and got out of the car to help him with his bags, she realised that she didn’t want to say goodbye. She felt suddenly overwhelmed with an awkwardness that hadn’t been there all week.
“I… erm… thanks again. I honestly… I had the best week.”
“Me too, sweets,” he smiled, putting his hands on her upper arms in a half-hug. “Perhaps we can do it again soon? And dinner again, whenever you fancy it?”
“Yes, that’d be lovely, thanks. See you soon, then.”
As she drove away, the awkwardness was replaced when she was hit with an unexpected feeling of dread at returning to the house that was meant to be her home. It felt like a grey spectre looming at the end of a bright, sunny week spent around water and ducks.
As she drew up, the front door flew open and Mel ran out to greet her. That helped a bit.
“Yay, you made it home!” Mel squawked, hugging Sal. “You look so well, sis, you’ve got colour in your cheeks and everything! You seriously needed that holiday, didn’t you! I’m so proud of you going off on your own like that.”
Lawrence ambled out of the front door to see what all the fuss was about, saw his mum, turned tail immediately and curled up on the sofa.
“Alright grumpy drawers,” Sal sniffed at the sulking cat. “It was fantastic, Mel. I never knew Devon was so beautiful, and had so much to do! What’ve I missed, anything? Grumpy boy behaved?”
“He’s been no trouble at all. Slept most of the time, as usual. Caught a mouse outside one night, brought it in at 3.00am and chased it around the bedroom. I wasn’t impressed. I’ll put the kettle on.”
Mel grabbed two bags and went in. Sal followed, and stood in her own living room feeling like a stranger. It didn’t feel like home any more, and she was dreading being there on her own.
Mel had made a fish pie, which both impressed and touched Sal.
“It’s to remind you of Devon,” Mel announced. “You know, fish, shrimps, mussels, all that stuff. I thought you’d appreciate it.”
“Good lord, thanks,” Sal was genuinely impressed at the effort her sister had made. “You didn’t need to, but it looks incredible. I’ll love it, I’m sure.”
And she did. She thanked Mel profusely, but although it was scrumptious and well-made, Sal knew the fish wasn’t freshly caught. It didn’t taste quite the same as it had on holiday.
It was hard saying goodbye to Mel and Kate as they filled Kate’s car with their bits and pieces and drove away. Closing the door on the world, Sal was alone with her thoughts and the spectre of Marsh again. It was a crushing feeling after such a carefree week.
That night, lying in bed, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She was tired from the journey, but couldn’t switch her mind off. She kept wondering what Doug was doing, though the chances were that he was sleeping, given that it was gone midnight.
She wanted to tell him about the fish pie, about how the house felt now, about the strange noises she kept hearing, and how she would have felt better if he was around. She missed being able to tell him all the mundane things.
That bit was rather disconcerting. She found herself thinking about how he made her feel good about herself, and how she’d love to snuggle into him right now and feel safe. How he’d been so kind, so thoughtful, and most of all, he hadn’t expected anything back for his kindness. She squirmed as she realised that she’d been trying to avoid seeing the blindingly obvious - that he saw her as a friend and that’s all. She couldn’t allow herself to fall for him in any case. She wanted to have time on her own after Marsh. Anyway, she’d never forgive herself if she ruined the amazing, supportive friendship that was blossoming between them.
But all the squirming and pushing away of her feelings wasn’t convincing her eyes. She felt tears running down her face onto the pillow.
How has this happened? How can I be feeling like this so soon after losing Marsh? Shouldn’t I be missing Marsh? Or am I missing Marsh, but confusing it with missing Doug?
Her head was spinning with questions and amazement at this situation, but there was no doubt. No matter what Marsh had done to hurt her, she still loved him. She remained devastated by his actions, and his death, but her heart simply wasn’t his anymore. She felt that the man she had fallen in love with hadn’t existed, or if he had, he had died well before his body did. The boulder of grief that had fallen from a great height onto her chest almost every morning, had finally rolled away.
Each time Doug’s eyes appeared in her mind’s eye, it felt as if a warm fur blanket had wrapped itself around her and assured her that everything would be okay.
She believed that he would be there for her no matter what. But could she trust her feelings now? After trusting Marsh so completely, and his utter betrayal, she just wasn’t sure.
23
It wasn’t news to Sal that Jess had a bit of a big mouth. She didn’t mean to be indiscreet, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself. She loved to gossip, but not in a mean or bitchy way; she had a really good heart, though some were unable to see it. There was rarely any malice in her words, she simply loved to be the one ‘in the know’.
Sal had been well aware of this
for the entire time they’d been friends, so she knew she needed to be extra-careful when she talked to Jess about how confused she’d been feeling recently. It was also why she hadn’t told her about going away with Doug. She loved Jess like a sister, and although they sometimes upset or annoyed each other, the love was always underneath.
Jess was undoubtedly her best friend and could give her an outsider’s view of what was happening, but Sal sensed that she needed to exercise some care in how much she said. If she didn’t, she would find that all the crew magically knew about everything, which would be unfair to Doug. Sal respected him and wouldn’t want to drop any hints about their friendship in their workplace – at least until she knew what their friendship was.
Yet when Sal turned up to see her best mate after she returned from Devon, it became clear that Jess had forgotten she’d been away until Sal reminded her.
Wow. She hasn’t missed me at all…
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you aren’t,” Jess snapped. She was working on some document or other for the band, and was staring intently at her laptop screen as she spoke.
Sal wasn’t entirely sure what part of ‘I think I’m getting feelings for someone’ was ridiculous. She stammered a bit, but Jess carried on.
“It’s all part of the grieving process, Sal. Someone’s kind to you, and you decide you’re falling for them. But of course you’re not! You don’t know this person, whoever it is. You’ve discovered that the all-encompassing love you thought you shared with Marsh wasn’t all it seemed. He’s dead and he was a wanker to you at points, so you’re bound to be all over the place. What the hell happened on your mystery week away anyway? I’m assuming that’s where you met this person?”
Sal was stunned at Jess’s self-assured reaction and the incorrect assumptions her friend was making. She seemed to have been getting a bit sanctimonious lately, especially where Sal was concerned, and that was unlike her. Sal stayed characteristically quiet, pursing her lips, biting her tongue both literally and metaphorically, and staring at her hands. It actually wasn’t any of Jess’s business where she went, or who she went with.
“It’s not like you to be secretive, mate,” Jess said, more softly. She briefly lifted her face to make eye contact with her friend, obviously aware that something was being held back. Once Jess got the scent of some interesting gossip, she wouldn’t let it go. Sal had never kept anything significant from her in the past, which would obviously mean that Jess’s curiosity was piqued.
“I’m not being secretive. I went to the seaside for a few days and it was extremely relaxing, thanks so much for asking.”
“So, who’s this guy then?” Jess asked, ignoring Sal’s grumpy response. “The one that’s been able to wheedle his way into your heart in a week.” She was so interested that she actually closed the laptop.
“Ah, it’s no one. You’re right, I’m being silly.” Sal was now resolute that Jess wasn’t going to know.
“You probably won’t hear from him again anyway, Sal,” Jess rolled her eyes as she spoke. “You know what holiday romances are like.”
The distance that had been there between Jess and Sal before Sal had gone away was now gaping. Jess was as snappy and intolerant as she had been before and Sal was getting fed up with it. Especially when she compared the way Doug treated her, with this.
“If you bothered to listen to me, you’d know that there was no romance,” Sal insisted. She decided it was time to change the subject before she really lost her rag. “Anyway, I’m thinking of asking if I can come back to work in the autumn.”
She wasn’t expecting to get a great reaction from Jess, and she nearly drowned on her tea when Jess leapt up and yelled at her.
“OH YES!” Jess shrieked, forgetting her previous train of thought. “You need to come back, Sal! Get yourself back out on the road. The boys will look after you, and anyway, you know you love it. It’s been far too long.”
Sal smiled as Jess reopened the laptop and logged back on, once it was clear that there was no gossip forthcoming. Jess was right, Sal had loved touring - when Marsh was around. But Jess hadn’t considered that it might be hard for Sal to go back to a job that was so intrinsically linked with her dead partner. Nor was Jess aware that Sal was harbouring blossoming feelings for one of the crew.
Having decided she wasn’t going to tell Jess about Doug at all for now, Sal relaxed. She’d considered hinting at it once she got back, but Jess’s reaction had made up her mind. It felt odd not being able to share such a big thing with her best friend, but worse than that, it felt as if she was losing Jess’s friendship. She just didn’t know why.
Sal had found she had plenty of time for thinking during her sleepless nights since she’d returned from Devon. Her mind felt clearer than it had for ages, and she’d been able to firm up quite a few of the decisions she’d made when she was away.
“I’m going to sell the house.” Sal dropped that one in like a grenade, wondering if Jess was paying attention.
Jess stopped typing, and looked up again, distracted. “Sorry? You mean your house?”
“No, Marsh’s house. I’ve decided I want to move back to my old house. I’ve already served the tenants with notice to leave, and they’ll be out in three weeks. Then I’m going to get Marsh’s house sorted out, valued and on the market. I can redecorate my place and do whatever needs to be done there as soon as the tenants move out.”
“But why? Are you mad?” Jess said, obviously shocked. “I thought Marsh wanted you to have his place as security? Don’t you want to be able to feel close to him, there?”
“I don’t need his security and I don’t like being there, now. I want the girls to have the proceeds from the sale. I don’t feel right living there. It’s not my home any more, it’s their inheritance from their dad. And I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.”
Jess remained befuddled at such a marked change. “Are you sure? What’s happened? Marsh made it pretty clear he wanted you to have a third of it. You could sell it and give the girls their share of it, if you really don’t want to stay there.”
“I’m more than sure. I don’t want any of it. It’s theirs and I don’t want them feeling obligated to let me stay in the house, when they could use the proceeds to put a big deposit on houses of their own. They’re young adults now and it could make a massive difference to them. I will be fine. I want them to include me in their lives because they want to, not because they have to.”
“Hmmm. Well, that’s kind of you. I wouldn’t if it were me, but it’s not. As long as you’re not going to struggle…”
“I’ve got no mortgage, and I’ve still got the savings we both accrued, which he left to me. I feel okay about taking those, because I contributed to them and they were built up solely when I was with him. Anyway, if I go back to work, I will be earning, and it’ll give me a focus again. I’m perfectly capable of supporting myself, without handouts from Marsh, you know.”
“Alright! Jesus!” exclaimed Jess, rolling her eyes again. “Well it’s up to you. Seems like that week away gave you some serious thinking time, then.”
Jess hadn’t been exactly encouraging, but Sal decided it wasn’t her concern. Sal knew she was doing the right thing for herself and the girls, both morally and practically.
“Oh, it did. It really did.” Sal grinned.
*****
Sal realised, once she started revisiting her own house to decorate and revitalise it, that it was no further from the girls’ house than Marsh’s house was. She hoped that meant Alex and Blue would come and stay at hers sometimes, but she wouldn’t force the issue.
While she was decorating at her own house, she’d invited both girls over to help her paint and to choose the colour scheme for each of the spare rooms. Blue had instantly laid claim to one room, and even Alex had been engaged in the process.
Soon, both girls were poring over brochures and choosing the bed linen, curtains and rugs that they liked. Sal was relieved that they bo
th had good taste and chose colour-co-ordinated schemes that she was also happy with. Considering their ages and their hectic social lives, she was quite touched that they’d done so much with her, when they didn’t have to. Most of all, Sal wanted them to feel that they could come over at any point, and she was happy when they were both so invested in making their mark on her home.
While the workmen were putting in new bathrooms and a new kitchen at her place, Sal had what seemed like a gargantuan job ahead of her at the other house. She was dreading having to sort through Marsh’s belongings, and having to work out what to keep, what to throw and what to give to charity shops. Marsh had never been a sentimental type, so she knew there wouldn’t be a lot of junk, but still. Although she had only lived there for four years, he had been there much longer and it was going to be hard to sort through his old life. Nevertheless, it had to be done. Then, it would be a case of tidying and cleaning places she didn’t normally go into.
She was touched that the girls helped her as much as they did with clearing the house. They took on the loft and shed, while Sal tackled the house. As she expected, she uncovered little things of Marsh’s, which floored her at regular intervals. She decided to keep his gig clothes from the ‘70s for the time being. They were pretty wild and distinctive, so she might see if she could find an auction house that dealt with such things. She sometimes forgot how famous The Bulbs had been back then, and that these outfits would be highly sought-after by collectors.
In return for the girls’ help, she cooked them dinner and they all cried as they put on the VHS player and watched videos they’d found in the loft. There were a few of the girls when they were babies, but they mostly showed Marsh performing with the band at the height of their fame, in the late ‘70s. What a showman he’d been back then! Sal had watched the band on TV countless times in her childhood, on shows like Top of the Pops, Runaround and Swap Shop, but she could never have dreamed back then that she would end up sharing his life for four years. It was hard to watch him doing what he loved most in the world, looking twenty-five years younger, and knowing that his life would be over before his time.