Sugar Secrets…& Luck

by Mel Sparke

  “Ollie, Anna-this is my brother Peter!” Sonja beamed proudly.

  “Kez! My Cod! Look at you!” gasped Peter, ignoring Ollie’s outstretched hand and instead giving Kerry a big bear hug.

  Kerry giggled nervously as Peter let go and began to scrutinise her with his glacial-blue eyes. It was silly, she knew, but suddenly it occurred to her that she was glad she’d bothered to use that new de-frizzer on her hair today in the shower-her curls were almost behaving themselves for once. She was glad too that she’d persevered and worn her contacts-even though her eyes had been streaming that morning. Normally, if they didn’t slip in first time, she gave up and made a grab for her trusty old specs.

  “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” Sonja said to her brother as if Kerry were her own special creation. “Not that she ever believes me if I tell her that!”

  Peter kept staring at Kerry, an appreciative smile of surprise playing at his lips. With his close-cropped shock of almost white-blond hair, lightly tanned skin and those amazing eyes, he looked like he’d just stepped out of a male model agency book.

  Kerry couldn’t take any more of his penetrating stare; she was thrilled at the compliment, but wildly uncomfortable too. She turned back around in her seat and was surprised to see a slight scowl on Ollie’s normally animated face.

  “You’ve never met Peter, have you?” she asked, wondering what had made Ollie lose his bounce.

  ‘“Course he hasn’t-my darling brother had forgotten all about us and Winstead till now!” Sonja interrupted, settling herself next to Kerry. There was room enough for Peter to sit down too, but instead he grabbed a chair from a neighbouring table and stuck it at the end of the booth.

  “I hadn’t forgotten,” he replied dryly. “I was just busy with work, that’s all.”

  “For two whole years?” Sonja grinned, obviously thrilled to have her big brother back in town.

  “Don’t exaggerate, Son-I came home at Christmas,” he replied, running his hands through his short hair and clasping them behind his head.

  “Yeah,” said Sonja, widening her eyes at him. “Christmas the year before last!”

  “Really?” said Peter, frowning so much his pale eyebrows nearly touched one another. “Still, Mum and Dad have been to see me a couple of times.”

  “Only because they wanted to check that you weren’t dead!” Sonja laughed.

  “So, uh, Peter, how come you are back in Winstead?” asked Kerry, aware of how quiet the other side of the table was.

  It was understandable that Anna might be slow to join in the conversation, knowing next to nothing about Sonja’s almost long-lost brother, but Ollie was being eerily silent. He’d heard enough about Peter in the past to make some comment-Kerry always peppered her memories of growing up with references to all of her best mate’s family, including Peter. And Ollie was usually the most accommodating of all their crowd. Putting people at their ease was his speciality.

  “Moving jobs. New city, new flat, that sort of thing. And a couple of weeks twiddling my thumbs before it all starts.”

  Fazed again by his penetrating gaze, Kerry stumbled as she tried to get the words in order in her head and ask him more.

  “Isn’t it brilliant?” Sonja burst out, just as Kerry was about to speak. “Mum and Dad kept it a secret that he was coming home. Me and Lottie and Karin just screamed when he walked in an hour ago!”

  “So, Peter, how come your family let you go so soon?” smiled Anna. “Only staying for an hour after being away for two years seems a bit mean…”

  “Mum and Dad are taking us all out for a Chinese tonight, to celebrate,” Sonja began to explain, “and my sisters were just going mental running around trying to get ready in between firing a thousand questions at Peter.”

  “Yeah, they were doing my head in. That’s why I asked Sonja to take me out for half an hour till that lot get themselves together,” said Peter, yawning. “Thank God my baby sister’s calmer than the other two.”

  While Sonja beamed at his compliment, Kerry found herself slightly surprised. That’s a bit unkind, she thought, aware of how excited his sisters must be to see him after such a long time. But he’s probably just joking…

  “Calm?” laughed Ollie, finally coming into the conversation. “First time I’ve heard her described as that! Our Sonja’s more hyper than Zoë Ball!”

  “What?” asked Peter, looking totally confused.

  Ollie’s smile faded. There was nothing worse than having to repeat a joke or a silly, throwaway comment. It never sounded right second time round.

  “I’ve just never heard anyone describe Sonja as calm before, that’s all,” he shrugged.

  But Peter seemed to have lost interest in what Ollie was saying. He was staring, Ollie was slightly irritated to see, at Kerry once again.

  Why is this bloke bothering me? Ollie tried to reason. Yeah, so he snubbed me, but then the guy has only just arrived back in town. He’s probably a bit disorientated and suffering from emotional overload, what with all the attention from his family…

  “Hey, Kez-remember that time I saw you’d written my name on your school jotter?” Peter remarked out of the blue.

  As his girlfriend’s face turned an even deeper shade of crimson, it suddenly struck Ollie that Kerry had once told him she’d had a childhood crush on her best mate’s brother. It had seemed cute when she’d mentioned it-just one of those story-swapping moments you have when you’re going out with someone. Now, OIlie bristled, it didn’t seem so harmless any more.

  “Hey, Peter, if you think Kerry’s all grown up, wait till you see Cat!” Sonja laughed.

  “God, yeah, Cat…” mused Peter. “Is she still trowelling on the make-up and showing off?”

  Sonja screwed her face up and thought for a moment, realising that their cousin had always acted the same way. “Urn, yes,” she shrugged.

  “So what’s going on with her? What’s she up to these days?”

  “Ooh, got a million years?” joked Sonja. “She’s the same as ever-always some drama going on in her life!”

  “Sounds entertaining,” drawled Peter, with a little smirk.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Kerry stole a look at OIlie. If there was an opposite of smirking, that’s what her boyfriend was doing right now.

  “Mum?” shouted Cat, wrestling her key out of the lock and slamming the door behind her. “Mum?”

  There was no response, but, at the end of the hall, Cat could see a wisp of cigarette smoke curling out from the kitchen.

  She was only dimly aware of the ache in her chest-caused by hurrying breathlessly through the streets after the phone call-and anyway, it was quickly replaced with a stab of panic when she saw her mother’s expression.

  Sylvia Osgood, normally immaculately turned out in every way, was sitting at the far side of the table, ashen-faced and somehow crumpled. Her precision bob was scraped back messily with an elastic band and her shoulders sagged towards the table where, even though it was only Monday teatime, a half-full glass of gin and tonic sat illuminated under the low-hanging kitchen light.

  “Where is he?” panted Cat, her breath still struggling in her lungs.

  Her mother’s sad eyes flicked with the smallest move from her daughter’s face to a point somewhere just behind her.

  “Here I am,” came a deep voice from the hallway.

  Cat froze.

  She was about to come face to face with the father she hadn’t seen in years.

  CHAPTER 6

  NOT SO HAPPY FAMILIES

  “What a beauty you’ve turned out to be, Catrina-just like your mother!”

  Sylvia Osgood tutted loudly as she clattered the kettle under the tap and ran a torrent of water into it.

  Cat didn’t know how to reply. She hadn’t said anything in the last five minutes; her father had asked her to sit down and then had started talking at her. She’d vaguely taken things in-something about finally having the courage to come back to Winstead after all these years and lots
of stuff about my, how she’d grown.

  All Cat could do was stare at this man sitting opposite her, dressed in a nondescript grey jacket and black polo neck. His skin was sallow, but his expression was warm and kind; his hair was thick and slightly wavy, flecked with grey at each temple. His eyes seemed at once to be smiling and to be brimming with tears too.

  Was she the reason he looked so hopeful, so nervous? wondered Cat. How could she possibly have that sort of power over him? And anyway, did she even recognise this earnest, desperate-to-please man from those photos stashed away in the albums on the top of her mum’s wardrobe?

  It’s been years and years since I looked at those photos, she realised, her eyes still glued to his face, devouring every detail. I don’t know if I can bring his face to mind…

  But she knew it had to be her dad. Her mother was crystal clear on that point, that was for sure.

  (“He’s back,” was all she’d said down the phone, when Cat had picked up her call in the changing room earlier. “Who?” Cat had asked, even though she sensed straight away what her mum meant. “Come home,” Sylvia had said in reply, quickly adding, “Please.”)

  “You have to understand, Catrina, it’s not easy coming back. It takes a lot of soul-searching, a lot of courage. But I knew,” he said, putting his hand on his heart to show his sincerity, “that I needed to come back for you.”

  “You were soul-searching…” Cat heard herself repeat quietly.

  “yes,” her dad nodded, closing his eyes for a moment to emphasise the point.

  “Finding the courage…” she mumbled.

  “Yes,” he nodded emphatically.

  “What-for nine years?!” barked Cat, finding her true voice at last.

  “Catrina! Sweetheart!” protested her father, reaching across to grab his daughter’s hand. Cat pulled it away and folded her arms defensively across her chest.

  Her father looked as if he’d been slapped-hard. Shock and hurt were written all over his face. For a second, Cat felt flooded with guilt as if she’d kicked a defenceless puppy.

  “Oh, don’t ‘sweetheart’ her, Eddie-it’s too late for that!” snapped Sylvia.

  “It’s never too late!” he protested, switching his soulful gaze from mother to daughter. “It’s not too late to say I made a terrible mistake—”

  “About a million terrible mistakes…” muttered Cat’s mother.

  ”—A terrible mistake, leaving my darling little daughter without saying goodbye,” he continued, ignoring Sylvia’s sarcasm.

  “Well? Why did you?” asked Cat, trying not to melt at the sight of his watery eyes, but determined, now that he was finally here, that he was going to answer some tough questions.

  “Catrina, Catrina… I promise I’ll explain it all to you one day soon, my love,” he said in a mournful tone. ‘All that’s important right now is that I’m back for you, at this important time in your life.”

  Cat shot a look at her mum, who shrugged.

  “What are you on about?” she asked him bluntly.

  Eddie Osgood blinked nervously, then slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small, ribbon-tied parcel.

  “I can never, ever make up for leaving you like I did, Catrina,” he said, his voice wobbly with emotion as he pushed the present across the table towards her. “But maybe this little something will show you, in a tiny way, how much I care…”

  “What is it?” Cat gasped, forgetting to be angry with him now that he’d given her such a beautifully wrapped gift. Her mother never went to the trouble of making presents look so good. She tended to hand Cat Christmas and birthday presents in the store bag she’d bought them in.

  Cat’s fingers itched to tear open the glinting package. Normally, she adored gifts with the enthusiasm of a five-year-old on Christmas morning, but the awkwardness of this situation was holding her back.

  “Open it. Please, Catrina,” Eddie Osgood said in a beseeching voice, tapping the present with one finger.

  “Oh, for Chrissake, Eddie-you can’t walk away in some alcoholic haze and then expect to win your daughter back after all this time with some stupid, pointless present!” said Sylvia, slamming a teapot down on the work surface.

  “It’s not some ‘pointless’ present, Sylvia! It’s special! Go ahead, open it, Catrina…”

  Cat stared at the package then flicked her gaze up to her dad’s expectant face. This sweet, shyly smiling man couldn’t be the callous, self-centred drunk her mother had told her about, could he? Nothing was making much sense, she decided, so she might as well open up the gift and satisfy her curiosity.

  Pulling at the ribbon till it came undone, she peeled back the metallic pink wrapping paper and stared at the dark blue velvet jewellery box. Slowly, she eased the lid open to reveal an antique watch, with a tiny, delicate face to tell the time, on a silver and diamante linked bracelet.

  “Like it?” asked Eddie Osgood.

  Cat loved it. It was the classiest thing she’d ever owned and the diamante sparkled just enough to appeal to her addiction to all things glitzy and glamorous. She glanced at the expensive pink Baby-G watch that was currently strapped to her wrist and thought how it looked clumsy and ungainly by comparison.

  “See?” said her father, spotting her reaction. “I knew you’d like it! I’m sorry it’s a little late, but it’s not every day a girl’s eighteen!”

  “Jesus, Eddie!” snapped Sylvia, abandoning her efforts at making tea and reaching for her glass instead. “How can you get it so wrong? Catrina’s not eighteen until next November!”

  “Sylvia, Sylvia…” said Cat’s father wearily, rubbing his forehead with his hands. “It’s just like the old times, isn’t it? In your eyes, I can never do anything right!”

  “Never do anything right? Like forget how old your child is? Like disappear without a trace for nine whole years? Like wreck our lives with your drinking and your stupid plans that never did anything but lose all our money?”

  “You’ve no idea what I’ve been through, Sylvia,” Eddie suddenly burst out, “and you’re too selfish to care! You always were an uncaring, cold bitch!”

  Holding the watch in her hands, Cat-who felt too numb and out of her depth to intervene in their bickering-felt a shock of recognition. The way they were now arguing felt like the soundtrack of her childhood. They used to rant at each other in front of her and continue until long after she’d gone to bed, where she’d lie awake with a pillow over her head to try and shut out their angry voices.

  But it wasn’t just the fact that she recognised her father for sure in that split second, it was also her dad’s words.

  Selfish? Uncaring? Cold? A bitch? I’ve said all that about Mum before, thought Cat, observing the ongoing fight in front of her as if she were caught in a bubble. Could it be? Could it be…?

  She closed her eyes to shut them out, just as she used to when she was a kid, and tried to focus her thoughts.

  Could it be that Dad didn’t leave home because of the problems he was supposed to have, she wondered, her heart pounding, but because my bloody awful mother drove him away?

  CHAPTER 7

  ANNA TO THE RESCUE

  “Oh!”

  “Uh, hi.”

  “Hi. Urn. Is Ollie around?”

  Anna shook her head, brushing a stray strand of her long brown hair back from her face. All around them on this Tuesday morning, the End was bustling with chatting mums and their gurgling babies, but the tension between Anna and Matt made every word they uttered seem to echo and bounce around the cream-painted walls.

  “No, I swapped shifts with him today.”

  “Oh yeah? Uh, how come?” asked Matt, immediately thinking what a stupid question that was. It wasn’t any of his business.

  “Well, it’s, urn, not very interesting really,” Anna shrugged, wishing one of the customers would call her over and get her out of this stilted conversation. “It’s just that I’ve got the dentist tomorrow morning and I just thought I
might as well do some other errands and stuff at the same time…”

  “Oh.”

  The two friends both began to shuffle their feet, aware of the yawning chasm of unspoken business between them.

  I should just come out with it, Anna told herself. I should just say, hey-about what happened at the party. It was nothing. I mean, it was something-obviously-but it didn’t mean anything. Well, not to me. Not that I’m saying it meant anything to you…

  Bottling it, Anna came out with another vapid question.

  “So, what did you want to see Ollie about?”

  “I, urn… it’s just that he asked me to pick up some new guitar strings for him when I was in Central Sounds and I thought I’d drop them off, since it’s band rehearsal tonight.”

  “I see,” said Anna, although what she really did see was that the conversation was grinding to a halt again.

  “Hey, Matt! The very man!”

  At the sound of Nick’s booming voice, Anna and Matt’s eyes flickered at each other, both recognising the relief that the moment was over, as well as a sense of regret…

  “What’s up, Nick?” said Matt, turning away from Anna.

  “Need another pair of hands, mate!” Anna heard her boss say. She vaguely remembered that Nick had been moaning about losing a good knife down behind the dishwasher and how he’d have to wait until Ollie was in to help him move it. Matt, it seemed, would do instead as rent-a-muscle.

  What’s Matt thinking? wondered Anna, staring aimlessly out of the café window into the street beyond. What were his eyes trying to tell me there? find why don’t I just talk to him and get this over with?

  A movement from one of the shops in the parade opposite suddenly jostled her from her confused thoughts.

  Something was going on in the launderette… and it wasn’t just Mad Vera waltzing around her puzzled customers with a mop as usual.

  Anna gasped as she saw a young lad push Vera to the ground, while his mate-who had a scarf tied round the lower half of his face-hit out at a coin slot on one of the big washing machines with a menacing-looking claw hammer.