The Starter Home

by Bryony Fraser

  ‘Let’s get you something to warm you up, at least.’ Zoe’s dad flicked on the kettle, which boiled almost immediately – it had probably been boiled repeatedly for the last hour.

  Five minutes later, they all sat around the big kitchen table, warming their hands on mugs of tea. ‘So, Jack,’ began Zoe’s mum, ‘Zoe says you are going to make shoes?’

  ‘Yes, I—’ Jack’s voice came out slightly strangled, and he choked and coughed. Zoe’s mum and two of her sisters were up, banging him on the back, offering him a glass of water while he held up his hands in surrender. Eventually he was deemed to be likely to live, and everyone sat down again. Jack took a careful sip of his tea. ‘Yes, I’m hoping to go into shoe design. I’d like to design and make them, and maybe – eventually – even have my own shop one day.’

  ‘A shoe shop?’ Esther asked politely.

  Zoe narrowed her eyes at her. ‘No, a fruit and veg shop.’

  Esther tipped her head to one side, and opened her mouth, but Zoe’s dad jumped in.

  ‘And would that be in London? Are your family around here?’

  ‘They’re actually in Norfolk, but yes, I think I’d like to start in London.’

  ‘Start in London?’ Kat questioned.

  ‘Yeah, I think—’

  ‘What, you don’t think London can support another shop? Might be better to start out in the fashion frontline of Norwich?’ Zoe asked Kat, with narrowed eyes.

  ‘Actually—’ Jack started.

  ‘Zoe, I was just asking.’ Kat smiled sarcastically. ‘I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there are other cities in the UK.’

  ‘Girls,’ their mum added warningly.

  Jack tried again: ‘Norwich is actually—’

  ‘No, Mum, I’m fascinated to see what insights into the design world my little sister can offer. Sorry, just remind me again, Kat, you’re doing your A Levels in … Biology, Chemistry, Maths and Further Maths, is that right? Sorry, just checking before we continue this discussion about retail and fashion. Sorry. Carry on, little sis, do fill us in.’

  ‘Zo, she is allowed to ask questions,’ Esther insisted.

  ‘Not if it’s an interrogation, she isn’t.’

  ‘Maybe let’s all leave this topic,’ Kat said, rolling her eyes.

  ‘Guys, chill! I think it’s pretty cool. I’ve never met someone who opened a shop in town before,’ Ava said, smiling at Jack.

  Zoe leant over the table and squeezed Ava’s hand. ‘You’ve always been my favourite sister.’

  Esther and Kat yelled their disapproval of this, and by the time their mum had remembered the wire rack of cooling ginger biscuits that she’d made for the gathering, peace – or what stood for peace in a family of six – was restored.

  Over lunch – a huge chicken pie that Zoe’s mum deemed ‘the kind of thing that a young man would want to eat’ – the family talked over Jack as they asked him about his course, his parents and his interests. By pudding, he didn’t need further questioning, and the conversation reverted to the usual familiar tracks: relatives, plans for the house, what the girls ought to be doing with their lives.

  ‘My darlings, you know I love you all so much, but it’s only Zoe who has a path she can follow to a good job, you know?’

  ‘Mum!’ However old this conversation was, none of the sisters would let her get away with it.

  ‘Mum, I’ve not even finished my degree yet. I’m just lucky it’s the kind of thing that leads naturally to a job. If I’m lucky. If I manage to last the whole course. If jobs still even exist by the time I graduate.’

  ‘What? Are you going to leave?!’ Zoe’s mum almost wailed.

  ‘No! I hope not. I’m not planning to.’

  ‘Mum, I’m doing four of the hardest possible A Levels right now,’ Kat called. Esther threw a napkin at her head in disgust.

  ‘And my job isn’t exactly playgroup, Mum. I’m deputy manager of my whole sales region,’ Esther reminded everyone.

  ‘Yes yes, but is it a real job?’

  ‘Love, come on now, they’re all doing very well. Ava’s doing very well with her social work – we’re proud of them all,’ Zoe’s dad interjected, putting an arm around his wife.

  She looked pleased as she thought about this. ‘Yes, you are right. We have four most excellent girls.’

  ‘Women,’ muttered Zoe, as Kat shrugged and followed Esther’s example, throwing her own napkin at Zoe’s head this time.

  Zoe and Jack had cinema tickets for a late afternoon showing, so they headed off shortly after, with many thanks from Jack and many Tupperware containers from Zoe’s mum. In the kitchen, she gave Zoe a long hug too, saying, ‘Jack is a good boy.’

  ‘I’m amazed you could tell, from the amount he was allowed to speak.’

  ‘You can always tell a good boy, Zoe. I knew with your father the moment I saw him.’

  ‘I know, I know. The second you saw each other, you knew you’d be together forever.’

  Her mum hummed a little, as if she was going to say something, but was interrupted as Kat burst in, saying, ‘You and your boyfriend are going to miss your film.’ Zoe didn’t rise to her sister’s bait because, overall, the whole meal had been so much more painless than she had been expecting.

  At the door, Zoe’s dad was giving Jack a hug goodbye, as were all her sisters. Her mum came from behind her and gave Jack a long hug, so long that Jack’s hands kept falling away then coming back up when he realised the hug wasn’t over yet. Eventually, he looked at Zoe in something approaching alarm.

  ‘Mum,’ Zoe said.

  ‘Alright, alright,’ she said, releasing Jack and stepping back to Zoe’s dad, who put an arm over her shoulders. ‘Thank you for coming, you two – now you go and enjoy your evening, yes?’

  Zoe gave her a hug that was almost as long, thanked her and Dad again, hugged her sisters, before finally heading out with Jack.

  She looked at him as they headed down the garden path away from the house, arms linked. ‘How are you feeling?’

  His voice actually cracked as he replied. ‘Yellow bus?’

  She laughed. ‘That bad?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘It really wasn’t. And I’m hoping your mum’s hug meant I made a good impression.’

  ‘Either that or she was just saying goodbye forever,’ Zoe said, raising her eyebrows in horror at Jack, who looked suitably alarmed. ‘Just kidding. I guess now you know where I get my – actually, where I get everything from. My conversational skills—’

  ‘Direct.’

  ‘Very diplomatic, Jack. My eating habits—’

  ‘Tactical.’

  ‘And now you see why I’ve had to be. You don’t grow up with three sisters and not learn the early bird catches the biggest portion.’

  Jack laughed.

  ‘But I think you made a good impression on everyone. After a year of my careful training.’ She nudged him as they walked. ‘Pretty impressive.’

  Jack stopped walking and turned to face her.

  ‘What?’

  He sounded slightly surprised. ‘I love you.’

  She blinked. ‘Ok.’ She turned away from him and started walking.

  Jack stopped again and stared at her.

  Zoe laughed. ‘Oh my god, I love you too! Is that what you want?’

  ‘Do you?’ He sounded even more surprised.

  ‘Yes. I do.’ She shrugged, and Jack suddenly realised where Kat had picked up her shrug from. ‘And … seeing you with my family, not freaking out, and what my mum said—’

  ‘Ooh, what did she say, what did she say?’

  ‘I might tell you, one day. In the meantime, you’ll just have to survive on knowing that yes, I love you too.’

  He kissed her. ‘Good.’ He let out a wild laugh, half whoop, half cheer, and picked her up, twirling her around.

  ‘Good,’ she returned. And kissed him back.

  ELEVEN

  Now

  ‘Back already?’

  Three days la
ter, as dusk fell, I found a carefree-looking Jack in our kitchen, sitting on the side with his feet up on the counter opposite, drinking a coffee and reading that day’s paper.

  ‘Sorry, were you hoping I was gone for good?’ I winced, hearing the words as they came out of my mouth. I hadn’t meant for it to start off like that. ‘Sorry. I mean … Yes. I’m back.’

  ‘How was your stay? If I’m allowed to ask.’

  ‘Ava was trying to fatten me up a bit, since I wouldn’t go and stay with Mum and Dad.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t you?’

  I flicked the kettle on. It was late, and I needed something calming before bed. ‘I haven’t quite broken it to them that their newlywed daughter wants a divorce.’ Jack flinched. ‘And I definitely didn’t want them to find out by discovering their daughter wasn’t living at the flat they’d bought.’

  ‘They only paid the deposit, Zo.’ I ignored him. ‘So does that mean you’re back?’

  ‘I’m back. Living here, anyway. It’s my flat too and I can’t stay with Ava forever.’ I tried to soften my tone. ‘But we’re not … I think I meant what I said. Have you thought about it?’

  Jack jumped down from the worktop and walked through to the lounge. He pretended to busy himself with something in front of the window, then turned around, gasping.

  ‘Of course I’ve thought about it! Are you serious?’ He almost growled. ‘My new wife walked out after asking for a divorce, and—’ He couldn’t go on; he looked shell-shocked, hearing himself say the facts out loud. ‘What is going on?’

  ‘Well …’ I took a deep breath; I needed to stop him, to talk practicalities. I didn’t want another argument. ‘We need to sort some stuff out.’

  He shook his head again, stunned. ‘Like what?’

  I’d spent the last few days thinking about this. If I couldn’t move cities to give us some space, I could at least move rooms. The thought of any space at all between us right now was all that had kept me going. ‘For a start, where we’re going to sleep. We can’t both sleep in that bed anymore, Jack. It’s really weird.’

  There was a moment’s pause, when we both looked at each other and did the same mental calculation. Then we both bolted – Jack over the back of the sofa, me from the kitchen door, meeting in the bedroom doorway and briefly tussling to get through first. Then we were on the bed, pulling the covers, trying to get control. Eventually I managed to get enough purchase on the duvet cover that I could roll over and over, cocooning myself and pulling it entirely off Jack. Jack looked at me, then snatched up all the pillows. We were both panting.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ Jack said.

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ I replied, head poking out from the depths of the duvet, arms pinned down within the rolls of bedding like a giant sausage roll.

  ‘We can’t live like this,’ Jack went on. ‘We can’t scrap for the bed every night.’

  ‘Toss a coin? It’s as fair a way as any.’

  ‘Every night? What if one of us is out when the other person wants to go to bed?’

  ‘Then they just get dibs. It’s the other person’s fault for being out late.’

  Jack narrowed his eyes at me. ‘This isn’t at all related to me generally having later hours than you, is it?’

  I tried to shrug. ‘Let the coin fall as it may.’

  ‘If you say so. Looks like you’re having the bed tonight, though.’

  ‘And we start the coin-toss tomorrow. Deal?’

  ‘I suppose. Good night.’ Jack headed out.

  ‘Night.’ I wiggled in my duvet. ‘Jack? Jack?’ He turned around, unable to hide his hopeful look. ‘Please can you get me out of this? I think I’m stuck.’

  Over the next few days, none of it seemed real – it felt as if we were playing at this break-up, somehow. The next night I was home at 6 p.m. sharp, and when Jack still wasn’t back at nine, I crawled into bed and fell fast asleep. I definitely didn’t hear his key in the lock and hurriedly shut my eyes as he came in the door, so all was fair in love and bed-war.

  On Thursday, I was held up at work; they needed extra staff at a Year 8 parents’ evening. By the time I got back at eight, Jack was already thoroughly asleep in my bed. He didn’t even wake when I banged a saucepan in the doorway.

  Tuesday evening saw me wrapped up and dozing under the duvet when Jack got back at six thirty. I heard him sighing in the bedroom doorway, so I muttered, ‘Hard day at work,’ in explanation, and drifted back to sleep.

  On Sunday, Jack didn’t get out of bed all day. Every time I went in, he was on his back, mouth open.

  ‘If I was a better person, I’d check you were still alive,’ I said. I thought I saw him smile slightly as I went to make another night’s bed up on the sofa.

  ‘Right! That’s it!’ Jack shouted the next Tuesday.

  ‘Whuuu … what’s happening?’ I mumbled, having rushed home from school when the bell went to make sure I beat him back to the flat.

  ‘It’s five o’clock – unless you are very ill, there is no way that you are legitimately asleep in bed.’

  ‘Mmm … where am I? What day is it?’

  ‘Oh, stop it.’

  ‘Fine. I did get home first, though.’

  ‘We need a new plan. This isn’t working.’

  ‘It would if you weren’t always home late. Or asleep.’

  Jack scoffed, waving at my pyjamas. ‘Says Rip Van Winkle over there. I think we need a rota.’

  ‘A rota for bed custody?’

  ‘If you want. A week at a time.’

  We shook on it. Then I huddled back under the duvet and said, ‘I suppose you can have the first week. I’ve had a good run of early nights to keep me going for a while.’

  Jack looked surprised. ‘Right. Thanks. Ok. I’ll draw it up.’

  The next evening, I finally resolved to deliver some more bad news. Dad opened the door, the comforting smell of Mum’s cooking spilling into their porch. ‘Hello love, come on in, don’t let the heat out.’

  He took my coat and I kicked my shoes off, padding into the kitchen with a slight nervousness, looking for Mum.

  ‘Hello, my lovely Zoe! How are you! Where is that husband of yours?’ She peered behind me, trying to see if Jack was talking to Dad. But when Dad followed me into the kitchen alone, a little confusion brushed over her face. ‘He surely is not going to miss my dinner, is he?’

  ‘Mum, Dad, I have to tell you something,’ I blurted out.

  Oh god, I hadn’t thought the possible connotations of this nervous announcement through at all. Mum’s face was lighting up with impossible hopefulness at what she thought I might be about to tell them, while Dad was watching me a little closer and not smiling.

  ‘No, Mum … it’s about me and Jack.’ Her smile became a little less sure.

  ‘Is he alright? Has he been hurt? Is he ill?’

  ‘Love, let her speak,’ Dad said, moving round to stand next to her. He knew.

  ‘Mum, I think that … Jack and I are … getting … a divorce.’ It never got any easier, saying the word out loud.

  ‘No no no no no. That is madness. The two of you have only been married this little-little time.’ She waved her hands, trying to ward off what I was saying.

  ‘Love,’ Dad said, and put an arm around her.

  ‘Please, Mum.’ I leant back against the counter, too weak to stand up properly. ‘Jack and I have talked about this, and we agree it’s for the best.’

  We’d talked about it, at least. And we both knew it had to happen. I wasn’t sure if we agreed on anything anymore.

  ‘But my darling … it has been such a short time.’ Mum put her head on Dad’s shoulder. ‘What does your poor Jack say about all this?’

  Dad put his arm around her. ‘Is he ok, love?’

  ‘He’s fine!’ I rubbed my face. ‘No, he’s not fine. He’s terrible, I’m terrible, and neither of us knows what we’re doing. I feel like I’ve let everyone down. I don’t know how to function anymore. I feel like I’m losing
my mind. I should never have done any of this.’

  Mum seemed to come to. She rushed over to me and pulled me into a hug, a huge embrace that made me feel like a kid again. Then she pulled away for a moment. ‘Did he hurt you?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Has he been kissing with other women?’

  ‘No! God, no.’

  She relaxed, and pulled me in again. ‘Ok. Then we will just have to make sure that you are both ok. We do not need to worry about punishment for him.’

  I looked at Dad over Mum’s shoulder; he gave a rueful grin, holding his hands up.

  Mum held me at arm’s length again. ‘And where is it that you are going to live now?’ She looked pale, still, shocked, but she was trying to show me that I was her priority.

  ‘In our flat. It’s my home, Mum.’

  ‘Love, you’re always welcome here, you know. I know it’s harder for Jack to go anywhere, but we’re right here, and you can have your old room back whenever you like,’ Dad said gently. ‘However this stuff with Jack goes.’

  ‘Of course she knows this! But I do not think it would be a good idea for you to come back here. A thirty-year-old woman living back with her parents?’

  I looked at Mum, surprised.

  ‘My lovely girl, I am not such an old fool as you think. I know this would not be good for you, not at all. But where is Jack going?’

  ‘I’m not thirty yet, Mum. And he’s staying in the flat too. We’ve drawn up a rota for the bed – the other one gets the sofa.’

  ‘Oh, love …’

  ‘It’s ok, Dad, honestly! The sofa’s pretty comfy when I have to have it.’

  The two of them looked at one another.

  ‘It’s fine, really.’

  ‘So …’ Mum spoke slowly. ‘The two of you will keep living together, until …’

  ‘Well, it’s kind of funny – Ava told me that actually you can’t divorce until a year after your marriage starts.’

  ‘Heh. A year. Heheh.’ Mum laughed humourlessly.

  ‘No, ok, not funny, but … I hadn’t realised. It’s true, I checked, so it looks like we’ll just have to keep living together until the year is up. We can’t afford to pay rent somewhere on top of the mortgage, so …’

  Dad took my hand. ‘You two know what you’re doing, I suppose.’