Lost for Words

by Andrea Bramhall

  Jac’s eyes watered. Fleur certainly had thought of everything. “I think I can understand that request, Mr Hunt.”

  “Aye, she planned everything. All paid for too. Wanted to make it as easy on Sasha as she could. When’t time’s right, I’ve got a folder with everything in.” He pointed over his shoulder as Sophie pushed open the gate. “Just knock on when you’re ready.” He reached out and squeezed her forearm. “Give Sasha my best, would you? She’s a lovely girl.”

  “I will.”

  With a final nod, he turned and walked away. Sophie hiked up her eyebrows in question and indicated her head in Mr Hunt’s direction.

  “Fleur’s boyfriend.”

  “Oh, that’s the fella?”

  “Yup. Sorry I interrupted your freak.”

  “Yeah, well, when I said it’d better be good, I was hoping for actual good, not just blow your whole fucking world apart, you know?” She wrapped her arms around Jac’s waist and squeezed as tight as she could.

  Jac sighed and clung on like a drowning woman to a life preserver, terrified she’d drown the second she let go. “Yeah. Been one of those days, Soph.”

  “I called Mags on the way over. She’s going to review the filming schedule and see what wiggle room Dock 10 has. See if we can shuffle things back.”

  “I don’t think they can. We were a slot-in, if memory serves.”

  “Well, she’s gonna try. So don’t even worry about it.”

  Jac shook her head. “We’ve got about a week’s worth of shooting left to do. We’ll have to do it without Sasha, but we’ll figure it out. We’re too far in to call anything to a stop now.”

  “I’ve seen where you’re taking the direction. Vanessa’s cooled off. I’ll cover as much of the shooting for you as I can if Mags can’t move things.”

  “But you hate directing.”

  “Yeah, well, doesn’t mean I can’t do it. You can swing by when you can to make sure we’re on track. We’ll make it work.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No need. I know you’d do it for me, Pan-pan.”

  “I so would, but then, I love directing.”

  Sophie snickered. “Come on, then. Let’s go take a look and see what Fleur might want with her.” She backed out of the embrace but kept her arm around Jac’s waist and led them into the house.

  The attack was silent.

  Until Sophie screamed, at least.

  Nip launched herself from the shelf above the coat pegs, the one Fleur kept her collection of hats on. Only now the hats were scattered as Sophie ran down the corridor with Nip on top of her head, clinging on, front paws stretched down around Sophie’s jaw, the back ones gripped onto her coat where it lay across her shoulders.

  “Get it off me!”

  “Stop running, then!”

  Nip clung on like it was her first time on a roller coaster. Jac somehow doubted it. The move seemed far too practiced, the cat far too ninja-kitty and far too comfortable-looking in her cat-hat position. Oh no. She’d done this before.

  “Get this fucking thing off me!”

  Sasha stared at her phone, Bobbi’s contact details on the screen, her finger hovering over the Connect Call button, as tears ran down her cheeks. She swiped at them angrily and hit the green button, just hoping Bobbi would answer this time. She didn’t want to have to say something like this in a message. She couldn’t do that to Bobbi. Bobbi loved Fleur too.

  As the phone rang for the sixth time, she was about to disconnect when Bobbi’s voice crept through the handset.

  “Sasha?”

  Sasha smiled, so glad to hear Bobbi’s voice, even as more tears slid down her cheeks. “I have a confession to make.”

  Bobbi snorted quietly. “Do we need bail money?”

  “Not this time.”

  “Need my car to run Vanessa over?”

  Sasha choked back a sob. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Sasha? What’s wrong?” The worry in Bobbi’s voice echoed in Sasha’s ears.

  “Maybe I should have said, ‘My mum has a confession to make.’”

  “Okay,” Bobbi said. “Is she pregnant?”

  Sasha laughed through her tears and held a tissue to her nose. “Not this time.” Her voice cracked. “She’s…she’s sick, Bobbi.”

  Silence stretched between them. “How sick?”

  “She doesn’t have long.”

  “What do you mean ‘she doesn’t have long’? This is your mum we’re talking about.”

  “The nurse said she’s got a week, maybe two left.”

  Bobbi was silent.

  Sasha held the phone away from her ear to check they were still connected. They were. “Bobbi? You still there?”

  “No fucking way,” Bobbi whispered. “It’s your mum. Mrs A’s invincible. She’s even bionic now.”

  “The cancer’s come back. It’s spread. All they can do is keep her comfortable until…until she’s gone.”

  “This isn’t funny, Sasha.”

  “It isn’t a joke.”

  Silence again.

  “I really need my best friend right now,” Sasha whispered brokenly. “I really need you, Bobbi.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “Jac,” Fleur said as she opened her arms in welcome, “what d’you think of my new digs, then?” She waved her hands to indicate the room.

  “Very nice.”

  “Oh, pish. But they’ll do till I move on to the big house in the sky, hey?” She cackled, then stopped laughing when Jac stared at her. “Not funny?” Jac shook her head, and Fleur sucked on her teeth. “I’ll have to keep working on my material.” She pointed to the case in Jac’s hand. “What’ve you got there?”

  “I brought you some stuff from home. I wasn’t sure exactly what you’d want, so I just—well, I just grabbed a bunch of stuff. I can take back anything you don’t want.”

  “Been rifling through my drawers, ’ave you?” The gleam in Fleur’s eye was wicked. “Don’t let Sasha know you’ve a thing for my undercrackers. She’s the jealous type, that one.”

  “Not jealous of you, you old harpy,” Sasha said as she stepped out of the bathroom. “I like to drink my fluids, not have them drip-fed to me.”

  Jac stared at her. She’d been expecting tears when she got back. Maybe arguing. Anger. Not…banter. Not shit jokes about death and a repartee that sounded almost normal between them.

  “Harpy.” Fleur chuckled. “I like it. The maid brought my undercrackers, dear.”

  “So I heard.” Sasha crossed the room, took the case from Jac’s hand, and stretched up to kiss her cheek. “You okay?” she asked quietly, then stepped back to watch her eyes.

  Jac nodded dumbly, and Sasha mouthed, “I’ll explain later,” before stepping away and hoisting the case onto the bed. “Did you have space in here for more than one pair of Mum’s giant granny pants?”

  “Just you wait, young lady. You’ll be getting your own before you know it.”

  Sasha’s hands worked quickly to unpack the clothes Sophie had picked out and folded neatly—after she’d recovered from the cat-hat attack—but they were shaking. Jac could see the effort Sasha was putting in to maintaining this façade. It was etched in the lines that were pulling at the corners of her eyes, the edges of her mouth. And Jac wanted to kiss each one away. But there was an explanation to be had, and until then, she would follow Sasha’s lead.

  The conversation was inane. Words with no meaning passed between the three of them as Sasha worked, all of them seemingly in need of something—anything—to do.

  Underwear and thick socks were folded neatly into one drawer, nightgowns another. The dressing gown Sophie had insisted upon found a home on the back of the bathroom door, and a pair of slippers were tucked under the bed, just below Fleur’s bottom. Exactly where her feet would be when she swivelle
d on the bed to stand. When Sasha got to the photo frames, she paused. Her lip trembled and she bit it, blinking rapidly. Jac had no doubt she was forcing back tears. She ran a finger over the picture and swallowed before she held it out to Fleur.

  The one of the three of them together. Jac recognised the frame.

  “Ah, my Bert.” Fleur smiled and whispered, “Not long now, my love.”

  A strangled cry rasped out of Sasha’s throat. But she had turned and fled the room before Jac could even stand and go to her.

  “Give her a minute, love,” Fleur said. “Just give her a minute.”

  Jac sat back down in the padded, vinyl-covered chair and stared at the door.

  “Did she ever tell you how we met? Her father and I?”

  “No.”

  “I was stepping out with another fella. Nice chap. He was working on the Gas, about as interesting as white on bread. But, like I said, nice chap, just not for me. Anyway, this chap, John, he was called. He took me to the Plaza one night. Dancing. Well, he had two left feet, and one of them wasn’t for keeping in time with the other, and there I was in my finery. It was 1962, and I was wearing a midcalf maxi dress made out of a pair of old curtains. I thought I looked fabulous. But truly, it was hideous. I burnt it after we got married.” Fleur cackled, but her eyes looked so very far away.

  Jac waited, wondering who would come back first, Fleur from her mental wanderings or Sasha from her physical flight.

  “So, anyway, after I’d had my feet trodden on more times than I could count, Bert came over and tapped John on the shoulder. Asked if he could cut in, you know?” She stroked a finger down the picture. Jac assumed it was down Bert’s face. “No one had ever done anything like that for me before. And I looked up into those big brown eyes—just like Sasha’s—and that was it. I was a goner.” She smiled over at Jac. “Much like you were, I imagine.”

  Jac snorted a quick laugh. “Pretty much.” She stared at the door again. “The voice doesn’t hurt either.”

  “Ah.” Fleur lifted her head knowingly. “That husky, raspy, sounds like she has a forty-a-day habit does it for you, does it?”

  Jac shook her head. “You are something else, lady.”

  “Who’re you calling a lady?” Fleur was indignant. “Never been so insulted in all my life.”

  “Sorry, my mistake.” Jac held up her hands. “Why’s she pretending nothing’s wrong?”

  “Because I asked her to.”

  “Why?”

  It was Fleur’s turn to stare at the door now. “Because I don’t want her last memories of me to be morbid and riddled with nothing but tears.” She smiled sadly. “There’ll be plenty of time for those after I’m gone. But while it’s in my power to do so, I want her to see me smiling. I want her to shout at me for telling stupid jokes. She needs to know I’m still me.” She reached out, and Jac rose slowly to come to the bed. Fleur’s grip was strong. “And she needs to remember I love her.” She swallowed. “More than anything. Will you tell her that for me when she forgets?”

  Jac nodded, unable to say anything around the lump in her throat.

  “Promise me.”

  “I-I promise,” Jac managed to stammer out.

  Fleur snatched back her hand and blotted her cheeks. She flapped a hand at Jac’s face. “Wipe them away before she comes back. No tears in this room. Not while I’m in here.”

  “Jesus, you’re hard-nosed, aren’t you?”

  “When it comes to my little girl, I always have been. Always will be.” She blew her nose. “Remember that after I’m gone. I’ll have access to lightning bolts and shit once I’m up there.”

  “Who says you’re headed up there?”

  Fleur cackled. “That’s better. And if I’m headed down there, then I’ve got flaming pitchforks and the Devil himself on my side. So you better watch your pasty-white arse.” She winked. “As lovely as it might be.”

  Jac stepped back. “Say what?”

  “Oh, Mother, stop flirting with my girlfriend. You’ll scare her off.” Sasha breezed back into the room and laced her fingers with Jac’s. “Need me to protect you?” she asked with a wink. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, all traces of her make-up were gone, and the tip of her nose was red from blowing. But Sasha still looked beautiful to her.

  “Not much of a girlfriend if she needs you to protect her,” Fleur butted in.

  Sasha rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but Jac got there first.

  “I’m happy to fight my own battles, and who says the Devil would be on your side? I may or may not have already sold him my soul.” Jac tugged her towards the pair of chairs beside the bed, pulled them side by side, and wrapped her arm around Sasha’s shoulders when they sat down.

  “Excellent. I’ll look forward to company, then.”

  Sasha’s phone pinged with a text message. She glanced at the screen quickly.

  I’m outside in the car park. Can we talk for a minute before I come in? B xoxo

  “I’ll be back in a minute,” Sasha said as she stood and strode to the door. “Don’t go running off before I get back.”

  Jac caught her arm as she pulled open the door. “Everything okay?” The worry and questions in her eyes shone through as clearly as her love did.

  “Fine.” Sasha leant forwards and kissed her cheek. “Bobbi’s outside. She wants to talk before she comes in.”

  “Want me to come with you?”

  “Thanks, but no. You keep the old trout company for me,” she said loud enough for Fleur to hear.

  “Less of the old, young lady,” Fleur shouted. Sasha offered Jac a quick wink, a smile, and let the door close behind her.

  Bobbi was leant against her car, the grey hood of her hoodie pulled up over her head, and she looked smaller than Sasha could ever remember her looking. She looked defeated, beaten, and so, so lost. Sasha didn’t even think; she trotted over and wrapped her arms around Bobbi’s shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” Bobbi said into her neck.

  “Doesn’t matter now.”

  “It does.” Bobbi pulled back so she could see Sasha’s face. “I shouldn’t have said the things I did to you. I was being selfish.”

  “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have forgotten about—”

  “Sasha, I was only throwing the stupid party to get you to spend time with me. Thought it would be a bit more exciting than another Friends fest and popcorn.”

  “I love our Friends fests and popcorn.”

  “I know. I was just scared.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of losing you.”

  “Bobbi—”

  “No, please, Sasha, let me say this, and then we can move on, okay?”

  “Okay,” Sasha agreed, but she still wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what Bobbi was going to say.

  “I was scared of losing you when I realised how much everything was changing. I think you know how I feel about you, don’t you?”

  Sasha’s cheeks burned but she nodded. This wasn’t a time for modesty or trying to hide behind the charade they’d carried on for years.

  Bobbi mimicked her movement. “Okay, right. So you know, and while I can’t say I’m over the moon to know you’re with Jac now, I knew we’d only ever be friends.”

  “It still hurts you, though.”

  “Yes, but not because you’re in love with someone else. I always knew that would happen one day. That makes me sad, but I truly want you to be happy, Sasha.”

  “I don’t understand, then.”

  “I’m hurt and scared because I lost my friend. That part I didn’t count on.”

  “Oh, Bobbi. You haven’t lost me. I told you, I’ll always be your best friend.”

  “So much was changing, Sash. So much still is. The jobs, Jac, your mum. It felt like you didn’t have any time for me anymore. And we were always t
ogether. Always. And it’s not like I could spend time with your mum either. She was seeing Mike Hunt all the time.”

  “Please don’t use his full name like that. It’s too easy to get it wrong, and I don’t want the alternative ringing in my ears.”

  Bobbi snorted. “Sorry.”

  Sasha squeezed her tighter in her arms. “I’m sorry I abandoned you.”

  “You didn’t. Not really. I mean, you got me the job, so we were working in the same place. It just… I just felt like I couldn’t compete with all the exciting new stuff you had going on. I should have realised how much everything would change when you won this competition, but I didn’t. I just thought it would be something cool. We’d go see your film at the cinema and I’d shout out to everyone there that you wrote that shit. You. My best mate, Sasha Adams, wrote the film they’d all just paid to see. I thought it was going to be fucking awesome.”

  “We’ll still do that.”

  “Fuck off. I want a front-row seat at the red-carpet premiere for this shit now.”

  Sasha chuckled. “You got it, honey.”

  Bobbi grinned. “And my name in the credits.”

  “Already done.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. Production assistant, Bobbi Johnson.”

  “Awesome.”

  “I promise I’ll make more time for us.”

  “And I promise I won’t be so needy.” Bobbi squeezed her arms tighter around Sasha’s waist.

  “Are we okay now?”

  “Better than okay. We’re besties.”

  “Well then, bestie,” Sasha started, then smiled and kissed Bobbi’s cheek, “let’s get inside and see if my mother’s come up with any more crappy jokes.”

  Bobbi frowned as they walked towards the doors, arms still slung around each other’s waists. “Your mum’s telling jokes?”

  Sighing, Sasha pulled open the door. “It’s like this…”

  Chapter 28

  Sasha stared out of the window as Jac drove them home. She’d offered to take her back to her house but Sasha couldn’t face it. At that particular moment, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to face it again. But that was something she’d think about tomorrow. Maybe. Right now she wanted to forget. She wanted it all to be a dream—a nightmare—that she’d wake up from in the morning, safe and secure in Jac’s arms.