‘Tell me. What’s going on?’
He looked at her, then hung his head. ‘I’m worried I’m going to be left behind.’
‘What do you mean?’ she whispered.
‘It’s something my mum said.’
Hayley tried not to roll her eyes, then braced herself for another warped truth from Mrs. I’ll-have-another-Jenkins.
‘She said you’ll think you’re better than me when you’re a solicitor,’ Chris said. ‘And I should find someone of my own class. She reckons you’re getting posh.’
‘What?’ said Hayley, eyebrows raised and her voice going up a notch or ten. ‘I worked my arse off to get into City. I’ve been saving up for it for years and –’
‘Yeah, but she has a point.’ Chris shrugged and continued before Hayley could finish. ‘You’ll make loads more money than me.’
For the first time ever Hayley saw herself in him: self-conscious and insecure. She’d never imagined he could feel like that. Her heart immediately softened, as did her tone.
‘This isn’t the ‘50s. There are tons of women making more than their husbands. Who cares? I love you and I don’t give a stuff. Becoming a solicitor won’t change me.’ She pulled him close and kissed him. ‘Actually I talked to Mr. Simpson yesterday. He’s one of the law professors. He said I have a real knack for law. He said I should look him up when I graduate.’ She grinned. ‘Isn’t that great?’
Chris slowly lifted his head and Hayley noticed a hint of a smile.
‘Did you say husband?’
Hayley laughed. ‘Yes, but did you hear what I said about Mr. Simpson?’
His smile broadened. As he shifted his body, she thought he was getting up but instead he stayed down on one knee.
‘Hayley,’ he said and grabbed her hands. ‘Will you marry me?’
CHAPTER 10
Long Way Home
After walking away from what should have been her home with Rick, Hayley realised there weren’t many places left for her to go. She couldn’t land on her parents’ doorstep – she’d heard the panic in her mother’s voice. There was no way she could see them in this state. Not until she’d figured things out.
Back on the tube she sat down, forced herself to breathe more slowly, close her eyes, then told herself to think things through. She’d always considered herself a logical person, a seasoned, no-bullshit solicitor, so she started doing what she did best; she analysed the events, from waking up with Chris to her mum telling her she was married to him. Then she remembered what she’d said to Ellen the night before.
What if I’d said yes when Chris proposed?
She swallowed.
Did I fall asleep as Mrs. Hayley Cooper and wake up as Mrs. Hayley Jenkins?
She couldn’t think of an explanation more absurd or more impossible. But what else could it be? The only other alternative was that she was going mad – or had gone mad – and that was just as scary.
Panic rising, she forced herself to breathe in a more controlled and Zen-like fashion – in through the nose, out through the mouth, over and over again. But the little self-control she thought she’d regained seemed to slip away each time she exhaled.
She scrunched up her eyes and pressed her balled fists over her ears, wishing herself back to her family. But when she looked up again and lowered her hands, the sounds of the tube hadn’t suddenly disappeared, and she hadn’t magically been whisked back home.
Where’s a pair of ruby slippers when you need them?
As she leaned back in her seat, the young couple standing in front of her started talking more loudly.
‘I’m telling you, you’re wrong,’ the girl said as she looked up at the guy and shifted the weight of her backpack.
‘Am not,’ the guy answered, and as he shook his head, his dreadlocks flopped around.
‘I bet you are,’ she said and laughed. ‘It’s the other way. Why don’t you ask someone?’
‘With my crap English? No way. Besides, the book says talking to people on the tube is rude.’
‘Well I want to go to Buckingham Palace today,’ the girl said and frowned, ‘I see enough of the Métro in Paris.’
‘Excuse me,’ Hayley said and they both turned towards her. ‘You’re on the right line for Buckingham Palace but,’ she pointed up at the map on the tube wall, ‘it’s true, you’re heading in the wrong direction. You have to go the other way and get off at Victoria station. See?’
‘That’s exactly what I told him,’ the girl said and winked at Hayley. ‘Men!’
The guy smiled and scratched his stubble. ‘Ah, I should’ve known. She’s always right.’
‘Thank you,’ the girl said. ‘Your French is excellent, by the way.’
‘French?’ Hayley said, shaking her head. ‘I don’t speak French.’
The girl laughed again. ‘You’re too modest, you speak it really well. Thanks again.’
Hayley watched the couple move towards the doors and squinted at the copy of Libération the guy had sandwiched under his arm. It was close enough for her to make out the words. But that wasn’t all. She understood them.
The couple continued talking and Hayley listened more intently, paying attention to each syllable, every intonation.
‘Tu vois,’ the girl said as she put her arms around her boyfriend. ‘La prochaine fois tu m’écoutes mieux, d’accord?’
Hayley gaped at them with wide eyes, understanding every word.
‘C’est impossible,’ she said out loud to herself, ‘Je n’ai jamais appris le français.’ Her hand flew up to cover her open mouth.
Since when do I speak French? What’s next? Latin? Parseltongue?
She closed her eyes again to escape any other oddities that might be thrown her way, and only opened them when her stop was announced over the loudspeaker.
At Chris’ house she mustered all the courage she could find, slid one of the keys into the lock and, heart pounding and palms sweating, pushed open the door.
CHAPTER 11
1990
My Girl
Chris knelt in front of Hayley as she sat on the bed. He looked up at her, his expression peppered with hope and desperation.
‘Will you?’ he said, running a hand first through his thick black hair and then across his face.
‘Get married?’ Hayley asked. ‘Are you serious?’ A broad grin spread across her face.
‘I’ve never been so serious in my life.’
Hayley thought he looked like a puppy begging for a treat, his eyes wide and twinkling, and his mouth in an expectant smile.
‘I love you,’ he said. ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’ve finished my apprenticeship and I’m earning. If you leave university and get a job, we can afford a place of our own and have kids. I’ll get you a ring and you can be my girl. Forever.’
Hayley pictured herself at their wedding and bit her lip. They made a lovely couple, everyone said so, and she loved him so much. For the most part they were happy and the sex had become much hotter since she’d started reading Cosmo articles, given him some subtle hints and direct guidance. But leave university? And kids?
Maybe I can continue my course. Surely he’ll let me? Surely … wait a second; let me?
Ellen’s voice popped into her head: ‘God, he’s so controlling.’
‘Well?’ Chris said. He winked at her and she noticed he was flexing his muscles. He knew she’d always had a weak spot for his biceps.
She swallowed. She loved him, but … ‘Well … I don’t want to leave university,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I … I don’t know if I want to have kids. I’m only nineteen.’
Chris got up. ‘Of course we’ll have kids! And leaving uni will mean more money right away.’ He smiled at her.
‘But –’
‘You could always go back to school later. Night school, even, once we’re settled, or learn something else if you have to.’ He grinned. ‘Yeah, it’ll be great.’
‘Hang on a sec.’ Hayley’s voice
became stronger. ‘I love you but I want to be a solicitor. I want to travel the world and work in New York or Paris. Mr. Simpson said –’
‘Mr. Simpson, Mr. Simpson,’ he mimicked, throwing his arms in the air. ‘He’s all you talk about.’ He stared at her, eyes narrowed and steely. ‘Are you sleeping with him?’
‘What? No!’
‘He thinks you have a real knack for law – my arse. He wants to get in your knickers. I should have known.’
‘Stop it! He’s a great teacher, that’s all. The whole class thinks so. When we debated the merits –’
‘Debated the merits?’ He snorted. ‘Mum’s right, you’re already a snob. I bet this is the crap your uni friends and that bitch Ellen are putting in your head and –’
‘Piss off, Chris,’ Hayley shouted as she jumped up from the bed and pointed a finger at him. She felt the heat rising to her face and the muscles in her jaw stiffen. ‘I don’t think I’m better than you. You’re the one with the problem and –’
Chris towered over her. ‘Don’t talk to me like that. You’re my girl and you’ll do as you’re told.’ He grabbed her dress from the floor and ripped it down the seam.
Hayley started to cry. ‘You bastard. How dare you.’
‘How dare you? How dare you?’ Chris mimicked her again then he kicked Hayley’s bedroom door, putting a boot-clad foot straight through it. Hayley draw a sharp breath at the sound of splintering wood and before she could shout at him to get out, the broken door flew open and her parents and sister burst into the room.
Despite being half a head shorter than Chris and a good deal lighter, Stan Adams grabbed him by the back of the neck and hauled him out of the bedroom. ‘Come on, sunshine,’ he said in a voice Hayley had never heard him use before – it came out more of a growl than actual words.
Jackie bent down and picked up Chris’ jacket, her recently dyed red hair a fiery mass of curls. ‘You little shit,’ she shouted as she charged back out of the room and down the stairs, ‘That’s my sister up there.’
Karen hurried forward and gently helped Hayley sit down on the bed.
‘Get out of my house and never come back,’ Stan shouted and the front door slammed. Footsteps came back up the stairs and Stan and Jackie piled into the bedroom, both of them out of breath and shaking.
‘Come on, Jackie,’ Stan said, ‘let’s give Mum and your sister some space.’ The door – or what was left of it – closed behind them.
Hayley collapsed on her bed and buried her head in the pillow, soaking it with tears. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here now.’
‘What have I done? I love him.’ She sat up. ‘I have to go after him.’
‘No.’ Karen grabbed her arm. ‘Let him go.’
Hayley burst into tears again and put her arms around her mum, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent of lavender perfume. ‘He … he didn’t want me to … to go out wi-without him but it just means he … he loves me. He does.’
‘Maybe.’ Karen sighed as she patted Hayley’s back.
‘And I love him.’
‘You can’t live with a person who wants to dictate your life.’
Hayley crossed her arms and pulled away. ‘You said the other week you didn’t like him anymore.’ She watched as a frown crossed her mum’s face, then it disappeared.
‘That’s not what I said, Hayley.’ Karen smoothed her hands over her tartan skirt. ‘I said I didn’t agree with him telling you who you can and can’t see, and we ended up in a fight.’
Hayley looked down and kept her arms crossed. ‘Maybe if you’d been clearer I would have listened.’
‘You’re angry, I understand.’ Karen put a hand on Hayley’s shoulder and when Hayley looked up, Karen smiled and shook her head. ‘But if I’d said more it would have driven a wedge between us, like it did with you and Ellen. We’ve been asking if everything is okay but you wouldn’t say. Today was different. We thought you might get hurt.’
‘He wouldn’t have touched me, honestly, I know he wouldn’t.’ She paused to catch her breath. ‘He asked me to marry him.’
‘Marry him?’
Hayley nodded and as her eyes filled with tears again, Karen pulled a handkerchief out of her cardigan pocket and wiped them away. ‘He wants me to leave university so we can settle down. I said no and he got angry. I’ll pay for a new door, I’ll –’
‘Never mind that. Listen to me, young lady. You will get that law degree. Don’t you ever let a boy get in the way of your future. It’s your career, your life. Do you understand?’
‘Yes Mum, I promise,’ Hayley whispered.
She hardly slept that night, tossing and turning in her bed – kicking off the blankets as she was sweating only to pull them around herself again a few minutes later because she was shivering once more – all the while trying to figure out what to do about Chris.
More tears came, then so did the anger, which finally gave way to the desperate agony she felt in her heart when she decided it had to be over.
Chris didn’t give up that easily. He left messages, sent ‘I’m sorry’ cards with sad-looking teddy bears, and had bunches of daisies – her favourite flowers – delivered to the house. But Hayley had made up her mind. She dumped the whole lot in the bin.
CHAPTER 12
Some Things Never Change
‘Is that you?’ Chris shouted from the kitchen, over the noise of a whistling kettle.
He was standing by the kitchen sink, pouring steaming water into a mug with KING PIN written on it. Hayley didn’t notice she’d been holding her breath until she saw that, thankfully, he’d dressed since their morning encounter. His faded jeans looked trendy although his grey T-shirt was slightly too tight across his middle. It looked like he hadn’t shaved for a good few days, and Hayley immediately recognised the scent of his Paco Rabanne aftershave he always wore.
‘Where did you run off to?’ he said. ‘I thought you cancelled your lessons two months ago.’
‘What?’
‘Your French lessons with that bloke, Fred, or whatever. The one who fancies you.’
‘Who? Frédéric? He doesn’t fancy me but –’ She started wondering who Frédéric was and how she knew his name, but then noticed Chris staring at her.
‘So?’ he said.
‘So what?’
‘Where did you go?’ He continued to stare at her as he stirred his tea. The grinding sound of metal spoon against porcelain cup made Hayley’s teeth ache.
She cleared her throat. ‘Uh, I went out for a bit.’ She wondered how they were going to have any kind of conversation. They hadn’t seen each other for two decades. Not according to her anyway. How could she spend the day with him? But if she told him what was going on he’d slap a straightjacket on her.
‘Ellen called,’ he said with his eyes still on her. ‘She said you left almost two hours ago. Where have you been?’
Without missing a beat she said, ‘For a walk in the park.’
Chris put his mug down with a loud clunk. ‘Who did you meet? Anybody I know?’
His jealous streak hadn’t changed much.
Think, Hayley. Think …
‘Oh alright,’ she said brightly, grateful she’d always had a good memory for dates. ‘I went to arrange some things for your birthday. Don’t ask or it’ll spoil the surprise.’ She hoped he didn’t have a built-in bullshit detector.
‘Oh.’ He smiled and his face looked completely different – calm and kind, attractive. Time had perhaps rendered his face slightly less chiselled, but he was no doubt still turning heads. ‘Okay,’ he continued, ‘I just wondered where you were. Ellen said you fainted or something. You don’t need me to stay do you? Only, I’ve got plans.’
She waved her hand around, trying to stop herself from punching the air. ‘I’m fine. A bit tired.’
‘Good. I’m going out to play footie with the lads then straight to the club. What are you doing?’
Hayley didn’t ha
ve the faintest idea. ‘Oh, uh …’ She scratched her forehead. ‘I thought I’d get some work done?’
He scrunched up his face. ‘Since when do secretaries work on a Saturday? Charles had better be paying you.’
‘Secretary? Charles?’
‘I prefer him to his dad,’ Chris said, ignoring her confusion. ‘Ronald kept putting ideas in your head.’
‘Hmmm …’ Hayley’s mind went into overdrive.
Alright. Let’s see what I can get out of you.
‘Last night I dreamt about the day you proposed,’ Hayley said.
‘Really?’ Chris turned his back and pulled a loaf of bread from the cupboard.
‘Yes.’ She watched as he took the butter out of the fridge and spread it thickly on a chunk of bread he ripped off. She remembered how he used to like her – or anyone for that matter – stroking his ego. ‘It reminded me how much I love it when you tell the story.’
Ugh, that was gushy. Bat your eyelashes and twiddle your hair, why don’t you?
‘Do you?’ he said.
‘Yes. Go on,’ she said. ‘Tell me.’
Chris took a big bite of the bread and rolled his eyes.
She smiled. ‘Please?’
I’m going to make myself sick.
He clicked his tongue. ‘Oh, okay. We were in your bedroom. You wanted to go out. I didn’t want you to because I had to work.’ He paused. ‘I was a bit jealous back then.’ He chewed and then swallowed loudly.
No kidding. Then what? Tell me what happened next, you bastard, I need to know.
‘Only a little bit.’ She smiled at him. ‘Go on.’
He rolled his eyes again and shook his head. ‘I asked you to marry me, you jumped off your bed, squealed ‘yes, yes, yes’, and almost knocked me over.’
What felt like a fragment of a memory fluttered through Hayley’s brain. The look on his face when she said yes. The sinking feeling in her chest that she pushed away, not wanting to spoil the moment.
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