Perfect Daughter

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘You have children?’ He blinked quickly, this clearly the single fact he had taken from her rambling.

  ‘Yep, two. Martha’s about to go off to university, she’s going to be a lawyer, and my son is only eight. He’s hilarious.’ She smiled and blushed, ridiculously embarrassed at having to confess she had sex with someone else. Utterly ridiculous. What did it matter? She was a thirty-six-year-old married woman, of course she’d had sex with someone else and what was it to him anyway, some bloody yachting millionaire who didn’t even remember her.

  ‘What about you? Any kids?’ she asked, cursing the misplaced flash of envy she felt towards the woman who might have borne him a child.

  ‘No!’ he said sharply, with something akin to relief. ‘I didn’t seem to find the time.’ He laughed, awkwardly. ‘If you get my meaning. I don’t mean the actual becoming a dad – that can take seconds, I am reliably informed!’

  Twelve minutes, that was all. Twelve minutes that changed a girl’s life.

  ‘It never appealed, really. Too much to do, too many places to see and I don’t like to be anchored, unless it’s with our own patented anchor that comes as standard on this model.’ He laughed again.

  ‘Well, yes, they certainly do anchor you. It’s a full-time job looking after them, and now I have my mum too… I never really have time to do my own thing.’ Without warning, tears started to prick behind her eyes. ‘I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time,’ she blustered. ‘The kitchen is…’ She ran her eyes over the sleek lines, white leather upholstery and integrated appliances. ‘It’s lovely.’

  They made their way out on to the deck. ‘Take care, Sven.’

  ‘Yes, you too.’ He raised his hand. His sign-off was impersonal. He turned away immediately and she watched as his shoulders relaxed. Only then did she allow her tears to fall.

  She thought of all the times he had spoken her name, all those dark nights, tenderly sounding out the syllables while they held hands under the stars. She wanted to disappear. Better still, she wanted to rewind time and never set foot on his bloody boat. She looked up and he was gone. Swallowed by the crowd of glamorous yachters who vied for his attention.

  She jogged along the gangplank, ignoring the stares of the pretty girls with their wine and brochures, unaware that they were wondering why their CEO had taken this particular woman below decks and what had made her cry. She made her way to the middle of the hall, where Gina sat at the bar with a glass of wine.

  Gina looked up into the blotchy, make-up-smeared face of her friend. ‘What happened? Are you okay?’

  ‘Let’s go home, G,’ Jacks managed.

  ‘Do you want a drink?’

  ‘No!’ she answered, a little more sharply than she’d intended. ‘I just want to go home.’

  ‘Has he upset you?’ Gina asked protectively.

  ‘Upset me?’ She sniffed. ‘No. He didn’t even remember me!’ She made her way towards the nearest exit.

  Gina swigged the last of her wine, hurriedly placed the glass on the counter, picked up her bag and followed her mate through the crowds.

  They climbed into Gina’s Corsa in the car park at Weston-super-Mare train station. The moment they had clicked their seatbelts, Jacks started to cry. Having sat in silence for the entire train journey, it was a relief to finally give vent in the privacy of the little car.

  ‘It’s okay.’ Gina rubbed her friend’s back as she leant with her head on the glove box.

  ‘No. It’s not okay. I feel like such an idiot!’

  ‘Well, don’t. It’s his loss. He’s not worth bothering about. Today was only meant to be a bit of fun. I just wanted to get you out of the house. So what if he didn’t remember you? I bet you walk past loads of people every day around town who think, “Ooh that’s that Jackie Morgan who lied about her friend snogging Richard Frost,” and you will have no idea who they are!’

  ‘This was different.’ Jacks sat up straight and tried to contain herself.

  ‘No it wasn’t!’

  ‘Yes it was, G. You don’t understand!’ Jacks raised her voice in frustration.

  ‘Tell me then.’

  Where to begin? ‘It’ll sound ridiculous when I say it out loud.’

  ‘That doesn’t usually stop you.’ Gina smiled.

  Jacks drew breath and sniffed. ‘I know we were only very young and it was only one summer, really, but it meant a lot to me.’

  She paused. How much to tell?

  ‘I told you that I think about him a lot, and I do. A lot. Some days I feel so old because I haven’t achieved anything and I know exactly where I’m going, I know exactly what my life will be like until I die. I’ll never get to live in one of the houses on the front, I’ll never see the world and I’ll never get my sodding conservatory!’

  ‘So you’re upset because you’ll never have a conservatory?’ Gina tried to understand.

  ‘No!’ Jacks shook her head. ‘I’m upset because for me Sven has always represented perfection. He’s not washing-up or cluttered hallways or uncarpeted stairs or struggling to look after my mum; he is pure, of another time when I was truly happy, with no responsibilities, and I thought…’ What did I think? ‘I thought that it must have been the same for him. I felt strongly connected to him. And that connection has kept me sane. And today I found out that there is no connection. I’m just some silly cow who has had her head full of crap for all these years. I’m embarrassed and I’m sad, because it’s gone now, that little tunnel of hope I used to climb up when things got bad. It’s disappeared and I’m truly, truly stuck and I feel lonely.’

  ‘Please don’t feel lonely. You’ve got a lot of people who care about you and you’ve achieved a lot, Jacks. Two great kids…’ Being childless, Gina considered this to be her friend’s greatest achievement.

  ‘I know. I know. And I love them, you know that.’

  Gina nodded.

  ‘But, sometimes, it’s not enough.’

  ‘I think we all feel a bit like that sometimes.’

  ‘I’ve always thought of him as the one that got away.’

  ‘Got away from what?’ Gina twisted her body towards her mate.

  ‘From me!’ Jacks cried then, gulping down tears laced with embarrassment.

  ‘Oh God, you’re really sobbing!’

  ‘Sorry, G.’ She sniffed some more.

  ‘I had no idea you felt this way, Jacks. God, if I thought it was going to upset you, I’d never have mentioned the bloody magazine or going to see him. I thought it was just a laugh. I’m sorry.’

  ‘No, don’t be sorry. It hasn’t upset me.’

  ‘Doesn’t look like it!’

  ‘Honestly, G, I’m glad you did. I’m okay. I just think I’ve got a lot going on at the moment.’

  ‘This isn’t like you.’ Gina sighed. ‘I’ve never seen you like this.’

  Jacks blew her nose into a tissue and wiped her eyes. ‘I know it’s ridiculous, it’s just that…’

  ‘Just that what?’

  Jacks hesitated, wondering how much to share. ‘It’s as I said, the thought of him, the idea of him often gets me through difficult days.’

  ‘Blimey, really?’

  Jacks smiled, composing herself. ‘Yes, really! And I know it’s stupid, naive, embarrassing. But you sometimes have those relationships, don’t you? Ones that change you, shape you, and that’s what we had, even though we were young. It was very special and it opened my eyes.’ She looked at her friend.

  ‘Wow. I knew you’d had a fling, but I thought it was a little crush, nothing more. You got together with Pete so soon after he’d left that I forgot you were ever with him. I only ever think of you with Pete, if I’m being honest.’

  Jacks sighed. ‘I was looking at some of those women at the Boat Show today, with their designer clothes and acrylic nails, and those young girls who jump on boats and sail around the world and I thought, why has nothing great ever happened to me? How do you get to live somewhere fabulous and not have to add your shopping up in y
our head as you go round the supermarket? How do you get to be like that?’

  ‘Money,’ Gina surmised.

  ‘Yes, it is money, but it’s something else too, it’s like a belief that your life can be like that and so you make it happen. I’m just so glad that Martha’s got it. I want her to do it all.’ Jacks smiled at Gina; even the thought of her girl was enough to lighten her mood.

  Gina started the engine. ‘Come on, let’s get you home.’

  Home, thought Jacks, where that bloody bell is waiting for me.

  18

  Nineteen Years Earlier

  ‘So, what do you think?’ Gina hopped on the spot in her blue Buffalo platform trainers, clearly excited.

  ‘About what?’ Jacks smiled at her friend.

  ‘For God’s sake! I’ve been rabbiting on at you all the way along the pier and you haven’t even been listening!’ Gina tutted.

  ‘I have!’ said Jacks, laughing.

  ‘What have I said then?’

  ‘Something about moving to Bristol to go and work at the Thekla and designing T-shirts and starting your own label.’

  ‘I knew you weren’t listening, but good guess. Where is your head at today? You are bloody miles away.’

  I am. I’m on a deck in our ranch in Montana… I’m wandering around the Franklin Park Zoo in Boston. I’m sitting by a lake with my man…

  She shrugged. ‘Just thinking, that’s all.’

  ‘Fuck off!’ Gina shouted loudly, flapping her arms and trying to scare the seagull that was lunging in for a chip. ‘I hate these bloody birds!’ She turned back to Jacks. ‘I was actually telling you about Pete Davies.’

  ‘Pete who has a trial for Bristol City? Not that he ever mentions it, ever!’ She laughed.

  ‘Yeah, well, that’s the thing. He’s buggered his knee, trial’s off. He ain’t going nowhere. He did it in training and now won’t even make First Team captain, let alone the big time. It’s a bit sad, really, isn’t it, cos that’s like his one thing. He’s crap at everything else.’

  Jacks nodded. Gina was right, he was crap at everything else and it was a bit sad, but thankfully, nothing to do with her.

  ‘Chip?’ Gina held the bag up to her friend.

  Jacks waved her hand in front of the bag as though it was offensive. She had no appetite at the moment. Only yesterday she’d had to explain to Sven that she didn’t want to eat the sandwich he’d made her because she felt queasy and had this metallic taste in her mouth that she couldn’t seem to shift.

  The two girls walked arm in arm until they reached the end of the Grand Pier, where they sat down side by side on the bench and looked out across the sea. A large tanker made its way slowly across the horizon, heading for the docks at Avonmouth.

  ‘What is it you’re thinking about then?’ Gina asked as she folded the hot, salty chips into her mouth.

  Jacks pulled her coat around her form and smiled. ‘My future, I suppose.’

  ‘I thought we had a plan for our future? To move to Bristol, share a flat, marry members of Take That – bagsy Jason Orange, by the way! – and where I will design T-shirts and get signed by a big fashion label.’

  Jacks managed a small smile.

  ‘Oh, I get it, you’ve changed the plan. You’re going to work in the Thekla and marry Jason Orange, aren’t you? You better not be, cos firstly I’d have to beat you up for stealing my man and secondly, I’d really miss you.’

  ‘No. He’s not my type.’ I prefer studious Swedish boys who will sit with me on a deck in a swing-seat that rocks… ‘I just think it’s funny how you can drift along and then, click!, something happens and it’s like your life is mapped out.’

  ‘I’d hate that! Hate my life to be mapped out. I like the idea of the unknown, of adventure lurking around the corner, not knowing where I’ll go or who I might meet. I think it’s the best bit.’ Gina scrunched up her remaining chips into the soggy-bottomed bag and hurled them in the bin, before reaching for the fags and lighter that sat in the front pocket of her denim jacket.

  ‘I would have said the same, but now I don’t know.’ Jacks looked at her friend, already feeling the separation that would see them living on different sides of the Atlantic. ‘I feel quite good about knowing my future. I feel calm, happy!’

  ‘Blimey mate, what’s clicked for you then? Who are you – Mystic Meg? Where’s your crystal ball?’

  ‘It’s not that, I don’t know…’ she kicked her toe against the wooden planks, not wanting to give too much away, ‘but haven’t you ever woken up and not felt afraid of what’s around the corner?’

  Gina stared at her and drew on her cigarette. ‘Can’t say I have, mate, reckon I might need a peek in your crystal ball!’

  Jacks wrapped her arms around her torso, hugging herself against the breeze. I haven’t got a crystal ball, but I have got a secret…

  19

  During the fortnight following her visit to London, it was as if Jacks leaked sadness. She found it harder to paint on her smile and harder still to pretend that all was well. Pete tried his best to make things right, but his inability to fix the issues of which he was unaware only served to irritate Jacks. Martha took full advantage of the lull in her mum’s concentration and spent as much time with Gideon as possible. Jonty didn’t even notice that anything was amiss, happy in his world of computer games and toy soldiers and enjoying having the room to himself when Martha was absent, giving his remote-control car free rein over the floor.

  Two weeks on, Jacks sat at the table listening to Pete’s cornflakes hitting the bowl. They sounded to her like tiny stones, loud and intrusive. Then came his noisy crunching and swallowing and the repeated swooping of the spoon back into the bowl to cram in another mouthful even though the last was still lodged in his cheeks. It made her feel sick. Every day it made her feel sick, but today more than ever. As he leant in to kiss her goodbye, she pulled away. She noticed the flash of distress in his eyes, but it was as if she couldn’t help it.

  ‘Have I got a shirt, Mum?’ The voice floated across the landing and down the stairs.

  ‘In the airing cupboard!’

  ‘Mu-um, is my PE kit clean?’ Jonty called.

  Shit! No, it wasn’t. It was in fact still sitting inside a carrier bag on the back seat of her car. ‘I’ll fetch it, Jont!’ She decided to refold it and spray it with deodorant and hope he didn’t notice.

  Ida’s bell rang out.

  ‘Nan’s ringing!’ the kids chorused.

  Jacks placed her face in her hands and cried.

  That afternoon Jacks pushed her mum’s wheelchair through the front door, then helped her out of it. It was a beautiful day and they had been for some fresh air. Frost covered the ground, but the sky was big and blue, the kind of day that reminded you what life in the summer felt like, willing you to hang on, to get through the winter. After changing Ida and settling her in bed for an afternoon nap, she folded the wheelchair and squashed it into the space under the stairs.

  ‘I’ve got that treasure!’ Ida called out.

  At least she’s not going on about that letter any more, thought Jacks. ‘Don’t worry, Mum, when we find your treasure, I shall bring it straight up.’

  Sighing, she took the carrier bag with the double-knotted handles out to the wheelie bin. She wandered into the kitchen and was stunned to see Martha sitting there with her head resting on her fist, her elbow propped up on the table. ‘Oh, hello, love. You made me jump! I didn’t know you were home. Why aren’t you at school?’

  Martha looked up and shrugged. Jacks could see she had been crying.

  ‘Are you poorly? Do you want a hot water bottle for your tum?’ Jacks went through the familiar routine.

  ‘No. I’m not… not ill, Mum.’ The breath caught in her throat.

  He’s dumped her. Jacks felt a small flicker of joy that her daughter’s life could now finally get back on track. Gina had been right: it had run its course and Gideon had moved on.

  ‘What’s the matter, darling
? Talk to me. You know that if I can make it better, I will. Always’ Jacks sat next to her girl and placed her hand over the back of Martha’s slender palm.

  Martha’s tears came again. She cradled her head in her arms as her shoulders heaved.

  Jacks smoothed her hair. ‘It’s okay, darling. It’s all going to be okay. You are so young, Martha, and there are plenty more fish in the sea, just you wait and see. And as nice as he was, you will meet another Gideon at university – in fact you’ll meet an even better Gideon, one with a future, with prospects, and you will be glad that this came to a halt when it did.’

  Martha sat up eventually and took some deep breaths. She swiped at her tears with her sleeve, smearing her heavy kohl make-up along her arm in the process. ‘We haven’t…’ she stuttered. ‘We haven’t finished, Mum.’

  ‘Oh. I just thought… Is everything all right at school?’

  Martha nodded. ‘I got a message from UCAS.’

  ‘They haven’t taken away your offer from Warwick, have they? Can they do that?’ she gasped.

  ‘No.’ Martha sniffed. ‘It doesn’t work like that.’

  ‘Thank God for that!’ Jacks exhaled.

  ‘The message was that I’ve got another offer. From Bristol.’ These words made her sob even harder.

  ‘Yes!’ Jacks clapped. ‘I knew it! That’s wonderful! Brilliant! Don’t cry, you silly thing. I like the sound of Bristol; I could come and visit you, take you out for lunch and even do your washing if you get stuck. I know I promised your dad I’d let you get on with it, give you independence, but I could have a laundry load collected, washed, dried and back to you within an afternoon. It’d save you the job. You can just concentrate on your studies then. And we’re only up the road if there’s an emergency, which I’m sure there won’t be, but there’s no harm in having us close. You might even get those posh halls up on the downs!’

  ‘I won’t need you to do that, Mum. It’s not going to be an issue.’

  ‘Oh. Okay. So do your own washing!’ Jacks gave an awkward laugh.