It’s Now or Never

by Carole Matthews

  Now Bobby is fast asleep in bed with his hand bandaged and a ton of painkillers. It isn’t broken, merely bruised – but his fingers are like sausages and his skin is black and blue, and that still looks bad enough to me.

  My daughter, beige faced, is sitting at the kitchen table in front of me, nursing a cup of camomile tea. She’s wearing a pink fleece dressing-gown and a pair of zebra print slippers. On the surface, she looks little different than when she was four years old. Except, when she was four years old, she wasn’t capable of downing an entire bottle of vodka over the course of an evening.

  I sigh inwardly.

  ‘This tastes gross,’ she complains.

  ‘Drink it,’ I say. ‘It will do you good.’

  ‘I don’t want it to do me good,’ she retorts. ‘I want to die.’

  I slide into the seat opposite her. ‘And you might well have had your wish if Bobby hadn’t turned up when that chap was molesting you and robbing you, Ellen. What else might he have done to you?’

  My daughter invokes the right to remain silent.

  ‘Why?’ I ask, genuinely baffled. ‘Why get so blind drunk that you don’t know what you’re doing?’

  ‘It’s just a bit of fun,’ she insists.

  ‘It isn’t,’ I tell her. ‘It’s potentially life-threatening.’

  ‘Did you think about it when you did that?’ She casts a disdainful glance at my foot in my big, blue boot.

  ‘That was a one-off – a mistake. And it was all your Aunty Lauren’s fault.’ That’s mainly true. Plus Lauren’s not here to defend herself so she’s fair game. ‘It’s not something that I do every single weekend.’

  ‘It might stop you from going to Peru,’ she points out. ‘So whoever’s fault it was,’ my daughter’s expression clearly reveals that she didn’t buy into my blame-shifting techniques, ‘it wasn’t very bright. Okay, I was well lashed last night, but it hasn’t ruined anything I was looking forward to.’

  Then I seize on something that might be life-affirming for both of us. ‘Come with me to Peru.’

  ‘Get a life, Mum.’

  ‘Mothers and daughters often do bonding things together.’

  ‘Only mothers with daughters who don’t have a life.’

  ‘Oh, Ellen.’ How can I explain to her that she’s worth so much more, when she doesn’t seem to have a clue what I’m talking about? ‘Are you going to spend the rest of your life here, going nowhere, doing nothing?’

  ‘You did.’

  ‘Yes. And look at me now.’

  ‘Yeah. Foot in a cast after getting pissed and a dream of doing a long walk.’

  ‘A very long walk,’ I correct.

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘Is this all that you want for yourself – for the rest of your life?’ I look around at my shabby kitchen. ‘A mortgage, a husband, a couple of kids?’

  ‘I’m sorry it’s been so awful,’ my daughter says sulkily. ‘I thought you liked our family.’

  ‘I do,’ I say. ‘It’s just that I want more – for me and for you.’

  ‘Well, I don’t,’ Ellen says. ‘I like it just as it is. Stop trying to make your dreams everyone else’s.’

  With that, my daughter flounces upstairs. So, after I’ve stared blankly at the wall for a bit wondering where I’ve gone so wrong, I eat the toast that I made for her. The toast that she didn’t want. Not only am I trying to foist my dreams on her, but also my dietary desires.

  Is she right? Am I trying to make everyone else want the things that I want? Why is that? Is it because, now that I’ve embarked on this, I’m actually scared to death at the thought of doing it myself?

  Chapter 96

  Lauren woke up still in Zak’s arms. The sunlight was streaming in through the cottage window and she could see pink roses bobbing their heads in the breeze. A bird sang on the tree just outside.

  She turned towards him, until they were face-to-face. Zak’s eyes were open and there was a smile on his face. ‘I wasn’t dreaming, then,’ he said.

  Lauren laughed. ‘No.’ She snuggled closer to him. ‘Have you been awake for long?’

  Zak shook his head. ‘A few minutes. I was just enjoying the view.’ His eyes appraised her nakedness.

  Lauren gave a leisurely stretch. ‘I think I’d like to spend the whole day in bed.’

  ‘That can be arranged.’

  She kissed Zak’s mouth, suddenly serious.

  ‘What was that for?’

  ‘Thank you for a great evening. And night . . .’

  ‘I’m thinking that I’d like there to be many more of them.’

  Lauren propped herself up on her arm. ‘Are you?’

  ‘Lauren,’ Zak said, ‘I have loved you for so long. You must surely have realised that?’

  ‘I just thought you felt sorry for me.’

  ‘Perhaps we need to put you in for some wiring readjustments,’ he suggested. ‘I just thought that I never had a chance with you because of . . . Well, because of circumstances.’

  It was the first time she’d thought of Jude since yesterday. That surely was a good sign. It was also the first time that she realised that most of her relationship with her ex-lover had been based around sex – most of it rushed, frantic, guilty sex. She’d dressed it up as excitement, passion. Now she’d spent the night with Zak, she realised that it could be different. Oh, so different!

  ‘Let’s not spoil the mood,’ she said. ‘Let’s just bask in the little glow we’ve created.’

  ‘We could create another little glow,’ Zak suggested.

  Lauren smiled. ‘We could.’

  ‘And then you need to pay your debts, Ms Osbourne.’

  She frowned.

  ‘You’re forgetting that the World Pudding-Eating Champion was promised breakfast in bed.’

  ‘Oh yes, that’s right,’ she admitted. ‘But then I’ve had a lot on my mind.’

  ‘Me too,’ he said. Zak lifted himself until he was above her. Then, with a happy sigh, he said, ‘Do you realise quite how many times I’ve imagined you naked while I’ve been sitting at my desk pretending to care about websites?’

  ‘A lot?’

  ‘An obscene amount.’

  They giggled like teenagers.

  ‘And look at you,’ he said wistfully. ‘You’re here and you’re mine.’ He slipped inside her, his body joined with hers and she felt a wave of joy ripple through her. ‘I never thought that would happen.’

  ‘Me neither,’ Lauren murmured contentedly. ‘But I’m so glad that it did.’

  Chapter 97

  When they’d made love again – and again – Lauren slipped out of bed while Zak snoozed. She showered in the small bathroom and threw on her kimono before padding down to the kitchen.

  In the fridge she found bacon, and there was a fresh loaf that they’d brought down with them yesterday in the bread bin. There were eggs too, but she decided against them on the grounds of practicality. They’d already made quite enough of a mess of that crisp white linen without adding egg-yolk stains to it. It made her grin to think of their crumpled sheets.

  Theoretically, it was even too late for brunch. This was most definitely lunch in bed rather than breakfast.

  Lauren put the bacon under the grill and four slices of bread in the toaster. She didn’t know if Zak preferred tea or coffee in the mornings – even that little thought sent a thrill through her – so she plumped for coffee for him as that’s what she was having.

  It didn’t seem a very exotic brekkie in bed – bacon sandwiches and coffee – but she knew that it would be a meal that she’d cherish for a long time. There was orange juice in the fridge too – Zak had thought of everything – and she poured them both a glass of that.

  The smell of bacon drifted from the grill and Lauren slid it out before it burned. Now she just had to do the toast. Lauren took the lid from the butter in preparation and waited, sipping her juice and gazing out of the window at the fields. It looked as if it was going to be another warm day. Perhaps t
hey could go out for a walk this afternoon – if they could manage to drag themselves out of bed.

  As she daydreamed, she thought she saw the figure of a man passing along the hedge at the side of Zak’s cottage. But then he was gone. Lauren blinked. Must be imagining things.

  The toast shot exuberantly out of the toaster and she turned away, but as she did so, she caught sight of a shock of dark hair again ducking down by the fence at the back. Lauren peered out of the window, but could see no one.

  Turning her attention back to the toast, she buttered it liberally, slapped on the bacon and sliced each sandwich into two rather indelicate halves. She found a tray slotted down by one of the cupboards and loaded it up.

  As she opened the bedroom door, Zak was just waking, rubbing his eyes, raking his hair.

  ‘Lunch in bed,’ she said.

  Her boyfriend – was that what he was now? – glanced at the clock and his eyes widened. ‘Is that really the time?’

  ‘That’s really the time.’ Lauren plonked the tray down on the bed.

  ‘You terrible woman,’ Zak teased. ‘You’re leading me astray. I’m normally up with the lark.’

  ‘I didn’t know if you liked tea or coffee,’ she said. ‘I opted for coffee.’

  ‘I’ll drink anything as long as someone else is making it.’

  ‘That’s what I like to hear. A man who’s easy to please.’

  ‘Hey.’ He caught her round the wrist. ‘Come here. It must be hours since I kissed you.’

  ‘Not even one,’ she said, surrendering to his mouth before slipping into bed beside him.

  ‘This looks great,’ he said. ‘I’m starving.’

  ‘How can you be, after all those puddings?’

  ‘I’ll remind you that some of us have used up a lot of energy during the night.’

  Lauren laughed. ‘I’d forgotten.’

  ‘Then I might have to remind you again in a moment.’

  ‘We’ll have to close the curtains,’ she said. ‘Looks like you’ve got some sort of prowler or Peeping Tom.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘There was a guy hanging around at the back of the house. I didn’t get a proper look at him though.’

  Zak frowned. ‘That’s unusual.’

  She shrugged. ‘Could have been an innocent dog-walker.’

  It was only later, much later, that Lauren realised that she should have known.

  Chapter 98

  Chelsea rings and asks me to meet her. Which is unusual in itself. She also sounds as if she’s been crying.

  ‘Is everything okay?’

  ‘I’ll explain when I see you.’

  ‘Come over here,’ I suggest.

  ‘I’d rather not. Let’s meet at Union Café in Campbell Park.’ An outdoor café in a park? A rather downmarket one as well. That’s not Chelsea’s style at all.

  So I bribe Bobby to take me by asking how his hand is, thus reminding him that he owes me big time after Saturday night. Oh, I can’t wait to get this damn thing off my foot and am able to drive myself around again!

  An hour later and Bobs drops me off at the car park nearest to the Union Café. A string of colourful narrow-boats are moored up along the water’s edge. It’s not that warm today, but there are still quite a few people sitting at the stainless-steel tables on the terrace which borders the Grand Union Canal. My sister is among them. Dodging all the children who are running around, out of control, I hop over to her.

  She stands to greet me and air kisses both cheeks. ‘Good grief, I’m sorry.’ Chelsea points to my crutches. ‘I forgot all about that.’

  ‘I keep trying to.’

  ‘I should have collected you.’

  ‘No worries. It’s out of your way. I got Bobby to bring me down here.’ I don’t mention the reason I was owed a favour as I’m acutely aware that my children fall way short of Chelsea’s on the perfection scale, and don’t want her to have another reason to feel sorry for me.

  My elder sister doesn’t look that great, which is also not like her. Her traditional, perfectly co-ordinated designer ensemble is not in evidence today. The immaculately coiffed hair looks lank and is pulled back in a hastily done pony-tail. She’s not wearing make-up. Clearly, something is terribly wrong.

  ‘Let me get you a coffee,’ Chelsea says.

  ‘I’ll have an Americano. White, two sugars, please.’

  When she comes back, she’s bought another one for herself – a double espresso, which she knocks back without tasting it.

  ‘So?’ I sip at mine. ‘What’s happened?’

  At which, Chelsea starts to cry. My sister does moviestar crying – no awful hacking sobs, just gentle tears which stream silently down her cheeks in a heartbreaking way.

  Budging my chair up next to hers, I put my arm round her. ‘Nothing can be that bad,’ I say.

  She nods. ‘It is.’

  I wait until she’s composed herself again. ‘It’s Rich,’ she tells me, and I brace myself ready for the ‘other woman’ story. But no . . .

  ‘There’s some sort of fraud been going on at his company. Something to do with hedge funds. You know that I never get involved in his work.’ Chelsea sniffs into her tissue. ‘Rich has been implicated in it. He’s lost a fortune, Annie. All our bank accounts are frozen.’

  ‘Frozen?’

  ‘That’s why the cheque bounced.’ She looks at me with frightened eyes. ‘The police are investigating, and the Financial Services Authority. Until they clear it all up, Rich’s hands are tied.’

  ‘Omigod. I thought you were going to tell me he’d got another woman.’

  ‘If only,’ Chelsea says, rolling her eyes. ‘That I could cope with. This . . .’ she sighs unhappily. ‘We’re both in uncharted territory.’

  ‘I can’t believe that Richard is involved in something like this.’ Not the model husband.

  ‘He isn’t,’ Chelsea says determinedly. ‘Of course, he isn’t. He’s just got caught up in the aftermath. A victim of circumstances.’

  ‘Of course. Of course.’ I echo anxiously. Fraud – Richard? I’m stunned.

  ‘It will all come right in the end. It may just take some time. A few weeks – no more, I’m sure.’

  ‘How can I help?’ I ask. ‘You know that I’ll do whatever I can. You’re always there for me.’ I think of how she’s tried to help me with my fundraising when she had all this going on.

  ‘I need money, Annie,’ she says bluntly. ‘The kids’ school fees are due next week and I’ve no idea how we’re going to pay them.’

  ‘Wow.’ That’s quite a big ask. I know that the kids go to one of the most expensive schools in the area when they’re in England. ‘I haven’t got that kind of money, Chelsea.’

  If only I had.

  ‘It’ll be a loan,’ she says. ‘Just until our bank accounts are released again.’

  ‘And you think that’ll be a few weeks?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admits, hanging her head. ‘That’s what I’m hoping. Until then, I don’t know what to do. That’s why I came to you.’

  ‘I’m stony broke, Chelsea. I don’t have the kind of money you’re talking about.’

  ‘But you have the money for your holiday.’

  Holiday? Adventure. Dream. Escape. Not holiday.

  ‘I’ve worked so hard to get that. It’s all I have.’

  The tears start again. ‘And I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t desperate. What am I to do? What else am I to do?’

  What am I to do? I think. I can’t leave my sister like this. She’s frantic. I can’t ask her to pull her children out of their posh school because I won’t lend her the money. I know how much Henry and Sophia adore Swanleys.

  I knock back my coffee. Her need is greater than mine. ‘I’ve only got about two thousand pounds. That isn’t anywhere near enough.’

  ‘But it’s a start,’ Chelsea says. ‘I can ask Lauren too.’

  I already know that Lauren, like her impoverished twin, has no money to spare. Now
that she’s finally split with Jude she’s going to be needing all the cash she can lay her hands on too.

  ‘Can’t you sell something? Some jewellery perhaps?’

  Chelsea flashes her ring at me. ‘All gone,’ she admits. ‘This is cheap and cheerful costume jewellery. I hoped that no one would notice.’

  I certainly didn’t. ‘And the car?’

  ‘Not ours to sell. It’s leased by the company and I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to hang on to it.’

  ‘Don’t you have any friends who could bale you out?’ I suggest, sounding desperate even to my own ears. ‘Perhaps the school could defer the payment until it’s all sorted.’

  ‘I couldn’t ask that,’ Chelsea says. ‘What would they think of me? Our reputation would be shot to pieces. I have to keep this very quiet, Annie. No one can know.’

  Ah, so that’s clearly why we’re meeting at this out-of-the-way place and not one of her regular haunts.

  ‘But if you’ve got no money, Chelsea, won’t they find out very quickly anyway?’

  ‘Will you lend it to me or not?’ my sister asks. ‘I don’t know where else to turn.’

  I sigh because I don’t know what else to do.

  ‘We’re family,’ Chelsea reminds me crisply, sniffing back her tears. ‘That’s where people turn when they’re in need. I know that you and Lauren like to keep me out of your tight-knit little twosome, but I am your sister.’

  ‘We don’t try to keep you out.’

  ‘But you do,’ my sister says. ‘All of my life I’ve been on the outside. Do you think I don’t notice?’

  I feel terrible. I’ve let her down. Both Lauren and I have let her down.

  ‘So,’ she says, ‘can I count on you?’

  ‘Of course you can.’ I see my dreams of Peru, the Inca Trail, the Nazca Lines, the pisco sour cocktails, all go up in smoke. My desire to do something daring before I die will have to be put on hold.

  ‘I’ll happily lend you the money.’ I plaster a smile on my face, give Chelsea a hug and try not to howl in despair. ‘What are sisters for?’

  Chapter 99

  When they finally managed to drag themselves out of bed, Zak and Lauren went for a walk.