Time After Time

by Hannah McKinnon

‘You knew?’

  ‘Well, er, no … only the suspicions you told your mum about.’ He held up his hands. ‘And before you fly off the handle, I know she wasn’t supposed to tell me, but she worries.’

  ‘What happened to us, Dad?’ Hayley asked as she slumped on the side of the armchair, resting her head in her hand.

  ‘I’m not entirely sure,’ Stan said, shaking his head. ‘We always thought you were perfect for each other.’

  ‘I did too,’ Hayley answered flatly, grabbing a hankie from the coffee table and wiping her eyes. ‘Why did he have to spoil everything? Selfish bastard.’

  ‘Oh, Hayley,’ Stan said gently. ‘It’s not that simple.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ she said stubbornly.

  ‘No,’ Stan shook his head. ‘Relationships are like houses. They need maintenance and if you’re not ready for that you shouldn’t buy one. And if the foundation isn’t solid to begin with, well …’

  ‘What are you trying to say, Dad?’

  ‘Ah, your mum’s so much better at this than me.’ He paused, scratched his neck. ‘I just wish you two had started working things out years ago.’

  Hayley frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  He shifted in his chair and drummed the side of it with his hand. ‘If I try to tell you will you bite my head off again?’

  Hayley’s body stiffened for a second. She opened her mouth to launch a counter-attack, but thought better of it. ‘No,’ she said, and shook her head. ‘Not this time. I promise.’

  Stan waited for a few seconds. ‘Okay … I mean … it all started when you were in Chicago, didn’t it? When you found out you were pregnant.’ He looked out of the window, then picked a bit of fluff off his sweater before continuing. ‘We were so pleased when you told us he’d flown over.’

  Hayley stared at him.

  Stan’s smile faded and he swallowed. ‘You know … your mum thinks he reckons you only got back together because you were pregnant,’ Stan said as he shook his head. ‘That’s bloke logic for you. But I know it’s not true. That isn’t the biggest issue.’

  ‘What do you mean? What is?’

  ‘He swore me to secrecy but I reckon he’s lost that privilege, given the circumstances.’ Stan looked at Hayley. ‘He still thinks you blame him for Tony’s accident.’

  ‘Tony’s accident?’ Hayley said as she watched her father carefully.

  ‘Poor lad. Awful, wasn’t it?’ Stan said. He took off his glasses and started wiping them on his sweater. ‘So unlucky.’

  An image of Tony in a hospital bed invaded her mind. She heard the beeping machines. Saw his bruised face as if it were in front of her. Remembered his shattered legs.

  ‘Oh my god. Tony …’ she said. ‘He can’t walk.’

  Stan shook his head. ‘I can’t imagine being paralysed like that. Goodness knows how his wife coped, being pregnant and all, especially with him being in the States.’

  Of course …

  Hayley remembered the proud excitement in Tony’s voice over the phone. ‘We’re calling her Evie. She’s all pink and wrinkly and cute as hell. Ange reckons she’ll be a real ball-buster, just like her daddy.’

  A chill ran down her spine.

  ‘Let me get you some water, love, you’ve gone all white,’ Stan said. He got up and Hayley heard him running the tap in the kitchen.

  Tony’s fine. You saw him the other day. Calm down, breathe. It’s just a glimpse.

  She relaxed her shoulders but then the realisation hit her.

  But if it’s just a glimpse, then … then Dad being well is only a glimpse too.

  She dug her nails into her skin to suppress the scream that was trying to escape her throat.

  This isn’t right. This isn’t bloody fair.

  Stan returned and handed a glass to Hayley. After she’d taken a few gulps of water she felt the colour return to her cheeks.

  ‘I told Sean Tony’s accident wasn’t his fault. If anyone’s to blame it’s the lorry driver who crashed into the taxi,’ Stan said. ‘But Sean said he convinced you to fly back to London for a while to work things out and Tony had offered to sub for you …’ He paused. ‘Then you miscarried …’

  ‘Yes,’ Hayley said softly. She put a hand to her stomach and remembered the look on the doctor’s face as he told her she’d lost her little baby, the one she didn’t think she wanted until it was gone.

  Stan spoke quietly. ‘He blames himself for the miscarriage too. Said it was the stress of the accident.’

  ‘No.’ Hayley shook her head. ‘It would have happened anyway.’

  ‘I know, so you said, but try telling him that. He said it’s his fault you left Simpson and Partner’s because of what happened to Tony. I told him it was your decision. I couldn’t have faced all those people staring at me either. Although I still don’t get why you had to go to Klingel’s. You always said you hated them. Your mother reckons …’ He stopped.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, love, that it’s your way of punishing yourself for everything that’s happened. Your way of denying yourself the right to be happy.’

  Hayley’s scratched her head, digesting the statement, wondering how much shit a couple could withstand before the relationship broke beyond the point of repair. This wasn’t how she’d imagined her life with Sean. It wasn’t just a mess, it was a clusterfuck.

  ‘So I blame myself and Sean blames himself,’ she finally said.

  ‘It certainly seems that way, love. That’s what I meant about the foundation not being solid.’

  Did I make him blame himself? Or did I let him feel that way? Have I done that to Rick?

  Stan puffed out his cheeks. ‘I could wring Sean’s bloody neck for cheating on you, I really could,’ he said angrily. He put a hand to his chest. ‘But I can’t forget that I owe him my life.’

  ‘Your life?’ Hayley said, locking her eyes on her father’s. ‘Sean?’

  ‘Well, yes, love. If he hadn’t taken me to hospital when I mentioned the pins and needles, I could have had a stroke.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I could be dead.’

  Hayley opened her mouth to answer when the front door burst open and the high-pitched noise of children’s squeals filled the air.

  ‘Jakey, no,’ said a little girl’s voice as the door handle bounced on the wall repeatedly, making a thud-thud-thud noise. ‘Ouch, ouch!’

  ‘Stop pushing me, Jenny. Get off!’

  ‘Come on, kids,’ Karen said and clapped her hands three times. ‘Get your coats off and I’ll make you a drink.’

  Hayley stopped breathing as she heard the muffled sounds of footsteps on the carpet coming closer, and she jumped when a head popped through the doorway.

  ‘Mummyyyyyy!’ The little girl she recognised from the photo launched herself at Hayley like a torpedo. She climbed into her lap and her little arms slid around Hayley’s neck. ‘Mwah, mwah, mwah, mwah.’ She kissed Hayley noisily on her forehead, left cheek, chin and right cheek. ‘That’s a clock kiss, Mummy. See?’ She repeated the kisses. ‘It goes round and round like a clock. Twelve, three, six and nine. See?’

  Hayley gave in to the embrace and hugged Jenny back as another little hand slipped into hers, gently curling around her fingers.

  Jake.

  ‘I missed you, Mummy,’ Jake whispered. ‘I love you.’

  She pulled them both close, shut her eyes and breathed in the mix of fruity shampoo and Lenor fabric softener. They smelled exactly like Millie and Danny. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she whispered, hugging them more tightly. ‘I’ve missed you so much.’ She let them go to look at them, captivated by Jennifer’s curly hair and hazel eyes, Jake’s gentle face that had his father’s – Sean’s – features.

  They’re so gorgeous, so beautiful.

  She felt her heart surge as she stared at them. ‘I bet Morgan loves playing with you two,’ she said to herself and smiled.

  ‘Who’s Morgan, Mummy?’ Jenny asked as she twisted a strand of Hayley’s hair around her fingers, tickling Hayley�
��s ear.

  Hayley frowned. ‘Mark and Ellen’s little girl.’

  She saw her parents look at each other and recognised the worried glance that meant something was up. She’d only seen it on a few occasions – each time when one of her grandparents had died and the day Jackie fell over at home when she was six months pregnant.

  Karen’s expression changed quickly and she smiled at Hayley. ‘It’s been a long time since … since you mentioned her.’

  ‘Morgan? Really?’

  Karen frowned. ‘Who? No. Ellen.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I mention my best friend?’ Hayley said, absentmindedly stroking Jennifer’s silky hair.

  She watched her parents look at each other again, then Karen clapped her hands and, in her best Julie Andrews voice said, ‘Come on, kids, who wants a hot chocolate? Race you to the kitchen.’

  Jake and Jennifer ran out of the room, giggling and shouting, ‘Me! Me first, Grandma!’

  Karen kept her eyes on Hayley. ‘Stan,’ she said, ‘why don’t you two go out for a walk? I’ll make the kids some beans on toast for lunch.’

  ‘Come on, love,’ Stan said, gesturing to Hayley. ‘Let’s go to the park. The one with the red swings and the hollow tree trunk. Remember?’

  Hayley smiled. She’d loved that playground and always made a huge fuss as they’d walked past it when she was little. At that age nothing beat the thrill of swinging so high you could only see your dusty shoes against the blue sky. She used to think she’d fly to the moon if she let go.

  Jake and Jennifer ran out from the kitchen and hugged her tightly. ‘Bye Mummy!’

  ‘Bye Jake, bye Jenny,’ Hayley said as she bent over to kiss and hug them. ‘I can’t wait to see you again later.’

  ‘So …’ Stan said as they walked down the road. ‘Can we talk about Ellen?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t we?’ Hayley said evenly.

  Stan looked taken aback. ‘It’s just that … you … we …’

  ‘Dad,’ Hayley snapped, tiring of the confusion. ‘I’ve spent a crazy last few days. Give me a hand here, would you? Why do I get the feeling I’ve done something wrong?’

  Stan winced. ‘Oh lord, no. You haven’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known.’

  Hayley stood still. ‘Known what?’

  He walked back to her and rubbed her arm. ‘I’m not blaming you. Nobody does.’

  She waved her hands around. ‘For what, Dad?’

  ‘You really want me to say it?’ When Hayley didn’t answer Stan stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and puffed out his cheeks. Hayley refused to budge and Stan let another ten seconds pass before, very quietly, saying, ‘That she died giving birth, okay? There.’

  Hayley grabbed the fence to steady herself. ‘Wh-what?’

  ‘Listen,’ he whispered, ‘you paid for the fertility treatment but you didn’t kill her, love. Childbirth did.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘No way.’

  ‘It did,’ Stan said, clearly mistaking Hayley’s disbelief for disagreement. ‘It was a one in a million chance, you know that.’ He put his hands on her shoulders. ‘But we all know you blame yourself.’ He paused. ‘You’ve refused to talk about it. Any of it. You’ve barely mentioned her since … since it happened. And you haven’t been back to Bromley Parish since the funeral.’

  Hayley shook her head again. Bromely Parish, where Mark and Ellen had married? Years after the wedding they’d made Hayley promise that if anything ever happened to them, she’d ensure they were buried there together. Hayley had laughed at them, told them to stop being so bloody melodramatic, but she’d duly noted their request all the same, and never forgotten it.

  Unable to speak, she let her father guide her as they walked down the road to the park. Hayley watched a few children playing on the see-saw and the slides, laughing and squealing as they bounced up and down and slid into the soft bits of bark on the ground. There was something to be said about being a carefree child. Adulthood was terrifying.

  Stan sat down on a bench and patted the space next to him. ‘I know you can’t face Mark, but he always asks about you, you know. It’s amazing how he’s coped, bringing Ben up on his own.’

  ‘Ben?’

  ‘He’s such a cute little kid. The spitting image of Ellen,’ Stan said. ‘Poor Mark. I can’t imagine being a widower and a single parent. These last few years have been hell but he’s never blamed you. Ever.’ He put an arm around Hayley.

  ‘I can’t believe it … Poor Tony and … and … Ellen’s gone,’ she whispered, then she started to sob.

  I said I wanted this to be more than a glimpse. What have I done? What have I done?

  ‘I know, love, I know. We all miss her,’ Stan said, misreading her tears. ‘But we miss you too. We’ve watched you become so withdrawn and …’ He sighed. ‘We don’t know how to help. You won’t let anyone in.’

  Hayley remembered Rick’s words during their argument. ‘You’ve got this big wall …’ She’d thought it was rubbish, another of his accusations.

  But he’s right. It’s what I do. Keep people at a distance when things are bad.

  Asking for help was a sign of weakness in her book. Pretending everything was fine was a speciality she should have put on her curriculum vitae. It had to stop. She wasn’t showing how strong she was – quite the opposite – and it was only a matter of time before she pushed everyone so far away they’d give up on her.

  ‘I … I’m sorry I shut you out,’ Hayley said. ‘I’m terrible at admitting I need help.’

  ‘You’re strong, you know that. We all do,’ Stan said. ‘Tough as nails. You’ll get through this thing with Sean, however it turns out. But let us help you. Stop being so bloody grown-up and independent all the time. People like to feel needed. Especially your old dad.’

  The lump in her throat had grown to the size of a grapefruit, now impossible to swallow or suppress. Images of Millie, Danny and Rick floated into her mind. Her husband, her children. Her family. Her life.

  ‘Soulmates,’ she whispered. ‘Do you think they exist?’

  Stan smiled. ‘Don’t tell your mum this, she’ll think I’m a soppy sod, but I do, I really do. Knew right from the moment we met that she was The One.’ He picked up a leaf and played with it, running it between his fingers. ‘I’d say this crap-fest with Sean, if you’ll pardon my French, means yours is still out there.’

  Rick … I was so sure when we met, so very sure …

  Hayley pictured his face, his blue eyes and his chiselled features. She imagined his laugh, his big, loud guffaw and she smiled as a warm, familiar fuzzy feeling invaded her heart. She thought about how kind and loving he was to her, how he always asked her, every single day, how she felt and how her day had been, even if she was being a complete bitch. He’d often told her how special she was and how much he loved her. He had supported her in her career, encouraged her in everything she’d ever done. She pictured him playing with Millie and Danny, rolling around in the garden or chasing after them, their shrieks of delight loud and happy. Her chest tightened.

  They had over a decade of history, made-up not only of the petty fights but also countless tender moments, big and small, which somehow had been all but eclipsed by their daily routines. Things weren’t perfect, but neither were any of the glimpses she’d been fortunate enough to see. Life was messy, it got complicated. What mattered, Hayley realised, was how you dealt with it and that you stood up – and fought hard – for what you believed in. The question was, what did she believe in?

  Rick must think I don’t love him. I thought perhaps I didn’t either but …

  The realisation slammed into her like the Titanic into the iceberg.

  I do … I really do. Maybe I’ve just forgotten how …?

  ‘I hope so,’ Hayley whispered. ‘I hope he’s waiting for me,’

  We can work things out. I don’t want to lose him too.

  She turned towards her father and smiled. �
�You know what? I don’t want to talk about me anymore. That’s all I’ve been thinking about for the past few days. I want to know how you’ve been, Dad.’

  He patted her hand. ‘I’ve been worried about you, that’s how I’ve been. And that’s my job. But my health is good now we’ve got my medicine worked out. And your mum keeps me busy around the house and the garden.’

  Hayley laughed. ‘You always did love your petunias and your pumpkins.’

  ‘Hey, don’t knock ‘em,’ Stan said, joining in. ‘I won prizes with those you know.’

  She looked at him. ‘It’s so good to see you,’ she said quietly. She sat back and rested her head on his shoulder, and he kissed the top of her hair. ‘Dad, would it be okay if we stayed here for a while?’

  ‘As long as you like, okay? As long as you like.’

  ‘Will you tell me stories about when you were younger?’

  ‘Sure,’ Stan said. ‘Which ones?’

  ‘Tell me about when you met Mum.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. I want to know everything. What it was like when you were a kid. Just … just talk to me.’

  He laughed again. ‘Okay then. Well, it was a Saturday in May and I was late for the bus so I had to make a run for it. When I looked up, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen was holding the bus for me. She had a bright red coat and a matching hat and she wouldn’t let the driver leave until I made it on safely. We started chatting and before I knew it …’

  *

  The sunlight was fading by the time they decided to leave, driven home by the cold and the rumbles of their stomachs. When they got back to the house, the delicious meaty aroma of cottage pie greeted them.

  ‘Everything okay?’ Karen said as they walked into the hallway. ‘You’ve been gone for ages.’

  Stan looked at Hayley. ‘What do you think, poppet?’

  ‘It will be,’ Hayley answered. ‘I promise.’

  ‘Can you stay for dinner?’ Karen asked. ‘It’s your favourite.’

  Hayley didn’t hesitate. ‘Please, that would be lovely. And can Jake and Jenny still stay until tomorrow? I need to talk to Sean.’

  Dinner wasn’t as odd as Hayley had imagined it might be. She watched ‘her’ children gobble down cottage pie and peas followed by apple crumble and custard. They giggled loudly when Stan told knock-knock jokes and pretended not to notice the custard he’d deliberately dabbed on his nose.