by Tracy Bloom
Michelle breathed in and out slowly. She’d promised herself to try not to rise to the tide of teenage angst flowing out of her fifteen-year-old daughter. Their relationship was currently about as warm and cosy as one of the chicken chillers at work.
‘What I meant was that this is Gina’s day, and as far as she’s concerned it’s the best wedding we’ve ever been to.’
‘You agree it’s a shit wedding, though, don’t you?’
‘No. I think it’s lovely. I’m having a great time.’
‘You are such a liar. You hate weddings, I know you do.’
‘I do not.’
‘You do. Sean reckons it’s because there’s no chance you’ll ever have one of your own.’
How could Sean be so stupid and yet so wise all at the same time? Michelle thought to herself.
‘Oh, I wondered when Guru Sean would make an appearance,’ she said, losing patience as she struggled to disguise her dislike for the seventeen-year-old waste of space her daughter had attached herself to. ‘I was beginning to panic that you hadn’t mentioned him within the last twenty seconds. Thought you must have had surgery to remove him from your hip. Oh, speak of the devil, here he comes. Sean, love. I was just hearing from my daughter how you think that I’m too ugly to get married.’
Sean stared at Michelle and emitted a barely perceptible grunt.
‘Mum, you’re embarrassing him.’
‘Embarrassing him?’ squeaked Michelle. She just managed to stop herself informing her daughter that her boyfriend was more than capable of embarrassing himself without her help.
Sean grunted again before reaching round to pull his shabby jeans out of the crack in his backside.
‘You don’t like him because he’s honest,’ said Josie. ‘Because he’s not scared to say to your face that you’re never going to get married.’
Sean’s grunt this time was accompanied by a barely perceptible nod.
‘Actually, I’m going to marry George Clooney,’ Michelle declared.
‘Oh God, Mum, not that again! You’re the one that’s embarrassing.’ Josie took Sean’s hand and turned to move away.
‘You think that’s embarrassing?’ flared Michelle. ‘Let me remind you, young lady, that once upon a time you begged me to marry George Clooney. You recognised a smart, attractive, intelligent man when you saw one. What on earth happened?’ She nodded in Sean’s direction, who blinked back wide-eyed before dismissing Michelle’s comment with yet another unintelligible grunt.
‘You’re just jealous because I’ve got someone, and all you’ve got is some stupid pipe dream.’
Michelle stood and closed her eyes. Yet another encounter with her daughter not to be proud of. Why could she never say the right things? She swallowed and lowered her tone, just like Supernanny on the TV said you should.
‘But you’re fifteen, Josie. Your job is to have pipe dreams. My job, apparently, is to settle for Cousin Jack.’
‘Bye, Mum. Enjoy cloud cuckoo land or wherever the hell you think you are.’ Josie stomped off, Sean’s hand gripped firmly in hers.
Michelle decided she needed to be where other people were not, so she sidled off to the ladies, hoping for a quiet few minutes alone to gather herself before the next stage of hell presented itself, in the form of Daz’s Double Decks Diamond Disco. Daz had been in her year at school and she’d gone out with him for nearly a year, but only because he was Gina’s boyfriend’s best friend at the time. It hadn’t ended well.
‘Hiya, love.’
This wedding was spiralling out of control. A few moments of peace were going to be shattered by a close quarters encounter with her mother, the formidable Kathleen.
‘Hiya,’ she replied before diving into the nearest cubicle.
‘Doesn’t our Josie look a picture?’ shouted Kathleen through the thin plywood door.
‘She does,’ replied Michelle.
‘So nice of Gina to invite Sean. Pity he couldn’t have worn a suit, though, eh?’
‘Yes, Mum.’
‘I don’t give it long, though, do you? She’ll be off to uni before you know it and you won’t see him for dust, you mark my words.’
‘Well, I hope so. I haven’t worked all hours in that factory for her not to go to university and make something of her life.’
‘She takes after our Jane, that one. She’s smart. She’ll go far.’
Michelle emerged from the cubicle and brushed past her mother, not trusting herself to speak.
‘You know, I can’t help thinking of your sister on days like this. I keep wondering what her wedding would have been like, if she’d married Rob.’
Michelle switched the hand dryer on in an effort to drown out Kathleen’s maudlin reflections.
‘Do you think she would have married Rob? He was a lovely lad, wasn’t he? I wonder if he’s married now.’
‘I don’t know, Mum.’
The dryer cut out and they stared at each other, not knowing what to say. Michelle thought Kathleen’s blush-pink suit with matching hat and shoes had edged too far into mother-of-the-bride territory. She wondered if her mother had decided that attending her daughter’s best friend’s wedding was the closest she was ever going to get to such a role.
‘If you save that suit then you never know, you might be able to wear it to my wedding one day,’ she said, desperate not to get stuck talking about the past.
Kathleen laughed before frowning.
‘Oh yeah. You can’t even bring yourself to tell us the name of the father of your own daughter, never mind marry him, so it’s clear to me that you’re not the marrying kind.’
Great, thought Michelle.
‘Actually, I’m going to marry George Clooney.’
‘Oh, don’t talk such nonsense, Michelle.’
‘Why is it nonsense?’
‘Well, just look at you for a start.’
‘Look at what?’
‘Well, you’re not exactly film star material, are you?’
‘And what do you mean by that?’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘No, I don’t. You tell me what you mean.’
‘You’re too fat to marry George Clooney.’
‘Mother!’
‘You asked me.’
‘But you’re my mother! You’re not allowed to say things like that.’
‘It’s because I’m your mother that I’m allowed to say things like that. You need to lose a few pounds and make a bit more of an effort to give yourself a cat in hell’s chance of finding anyone who’ll marry you, never mind George Clooney.’
‘I suppose you think that you’ve got more chance of seeing Jane come back from the dead and getting married than me walking up the aisle, don’t you?’
‘Don’t say things like that, Michelle, it’s cruel.’
‘You just called me fat.’
‘That wasn’t cruel, it was honest.’
‘Honest. I’ll give you honest. I bet you wish it was me that died and not Jane, don’t you?’
Michelle stopped and stared at her mum. Her mum stared back. In over sixteen years, Michelle had never said that out loud. She turned and ran out the door.
Chapter Two
‘Even when I offered to go to the doctor’s to ask to be put on Viagra she wouldn’t stay. Can you believe that? She started packing her bags and an hour later he picked her up in a Ford Mondeo. A Ford Mondeo, I ask you. With an 05 plate. So humiliating.’
Michelle stared numbly at Cousin Jack. He’d now taken her through his entire relationship history.
‘My shrink tells me that I should be honest about my past relationships when I meet a prospective partner. Have you got a shrink? Gina said your sister died. They recommend shrinks for grief, you know. If you haven’t got one I’d recommend mine. He’s really helped me to open up about my problems. I can talk to anyone about them now.’
Michelle caught sight of her mum gliding over to Gina’s mum at the opposite side of the room. All the tables were being
cleared away and the hub of the wedding had moved towards the bar at the back of the room as everyone waited for Daz to set up his disco kit so the dancing could commence. Michelle’s mum appeared to be making her excuses to leave. Gina’s mum wiped a tear from Michelle’s mum’s face. Michelle knew exactly the kind of conversation they were having. Michelle’s mother would have donned her persona of grieving mother as she always did at any major occasion and Gina’s mum would be dutifully consoling her. She could understand it for the first few years after Jane had died, but she was convinced that it was now, at best, her mother’s desperation to keep the memory of Jane alive, and at worst a form of attention seeking.
Michelle hadn’t spoken to her mother since their confrontation in the ladies. She’d gone into minor shock after her outburst and had headed straight for Big Slaw to demand a vodka shot or two. Sinking into a chair in a daze, she’d hoped somewhere in the back of her mind that her mother would come and find her and declare a suitable response to Michelle’s revelation. But she never came. More shots were consumed before Cousin Jack took up residence in the chair next to her and spent forty-five minutes sharing his life history whilst Michelle said nothing. Still her mother didn’t arrive to rescue her.
As she gazed over to her now, she willed Kathleen to look towards her, to seek her out. Eventually she did.
She glanced up just as she put her coat on and caught Michelle staring at her. Their eyes locked. Kathleen raised her hand in a cheery wave, turned and left. Just like that.
Of course she’d left. Why had Michelle been stupid enough to think her mother would do anything else? She knew her well enough by now, surely. Michelle’s deep, dark confession, spilt out following fifteen years of angst, would barely cause a ripple with her mother. Kathleen had chosen many years ago to deal with her youngest daughter at arm’s length. Jane was the saint. Well behaved and clever. A college graduate with a good job in a large accountancy firm. Michelle was bright too, but driven to rebel against her parents’ obsession with her sister’s saintliness by not applying herself academically, preferring to pursue her desire to spend her life being creative with food. She didn’t want to be Jane so she chose to be the opposite of whatever Jane was, especially when confronted with the constant nagging of ‘Why can’t you be more like your sister?’
Michelle’s mum had simply passed off Michelle’s desire for herself to be the one that was dead, rather than her sister, as yet another foolish thing that Michelle had said or done. She was sure that, in her mother’s eyes, there were so many that this episode barely rated for any special consideration.
‘So you can see why I held back on starting Viagra, what with all my problems with diazepam. I mean, I ask you – you’d have to be an idiot to start taking another drug when you’re already addicted to one, wouldn’t you? I’m depressed, not stupid.’
Michelle got up and walked away from Cousin Jack without a backward glance, and went to find Josie.
She found her in a dark corner sitting on Sean’s knee, snogging, with his hand halfway up her lilac slub silk skirt.
‘Josie,’ she said, trying to ignore the absence of Sean’s hand.
Josie and Sean looked up sharply. Sean’s hand shot back into sight. He grunted.
‘Oh, just leave us alone, Mum,’ said Josie.
‘No, hang on,’ said Michelle. ‘I’ve just got to say something to you. Sean, can we have a minute, please?’
‘Whatever it is you have to say, you can say it in front of Sean.’
‘Please, Josie. It won’t take a minute, then I promise I’ll ignore you for the rest of the night, if that’s what you want.’
Sean grunted and shuffled Josie off his knee. He adjusted his belt then pushed past Michelle.
‘That’s so unbelievably rude of you,’ cried Josie.
‘I’m sorry. Just hear me out, okay?’ said Michelle, trying to get her head straight despite the dangerous mix of high emotion and vodka swirling around inside her. ‘I just wanted to tell you that I love you and . . .’
‘Jesus Christ, Mum! Just ’cause you’re pissed doesn’t mean we have to have a love-in.’
‘Just listen, Josie, please. I want you to know that you’re the most important thing in my life and I care so much about you, and if you ever . . . ever think that I don’t then you’re wrong.’ Michelle swayed a bit and had to steady herself. ‘I know I don’t say things right most of the time and I annoy you, but it’s just because I want you to have a better life than me, that’s all.’
‘Is this about Sean?’
‘I don’t care about Sean. I just want you to know that I care about you, that’s all.’
‘So just leave me alone, then, and let me do what I want to do.’
‘I can’t do that.’
‘Mum!’ cried Josie. ‘I don’t want you interfering.’
Michelle’s mum had left her alone. Ignored her, in fact, preferring to lavish her attention on Jane, even after she’d died. That was the last thing she was going to do with Josie.
‘I will interfere if it means you don’t end up like me.’
‘You mean saddled with a daughter you don’t want.’
‘I do want you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and I wouldn’t change you for the world, but I gave up on things when you were born, and now you’re growing up I want you to have all the opportunities I didn’t have.’
‘But that’s what you mean, though, isn’t it? When you say you don’t want me to end up like you. You don’t want me to get pregnant and ruin my life like I ruined yours.’
‘You didn’t ruin my life.’
‘Well, then, I don’t know what we’re arguing about. If getting pregnant didn’t ruin your life then I might as well have sex with Sean.’
Michelle gasped and took a moment to work out the correct response.
‘Don’t you dare! ’
‘But you just said I didn’t ruin your life. At least I care about Sean, and at least I’ll remember his name after we’ve done it.’
Michelle gasped again, then bit her lip to stop the tears.
Josie pushed the knife in.
‘At least if I do get pregnant I’ll be able to tell my baby the name of its father,’ she spat.
The biting couldn’t stop the tears. They oozed out, taking half her mascara with them.
Josie took a step forward and pushed her chin into Michelle’s sodden face.
‘So you see, Mum, don’t ever interfere in my personal life. Haven’t you read the parenting guides? Lead by example, they all say. Well, luckily for you, I won’t be following yours. I won’t be getting drunk, shagging a stranger and having a daughter who will never know her father. I’ll be shagging Sean.’
Michelle staggered backwards, recoiling from Josie’s grim determination.
‘But you can’t, you’re underage,’ she said desperately.
‘I won’t be. Not on Christmas Eve, on my birthday,’ declared Josie before going slightly pink and looking down. ‘It’s my Christmas present to him,’ she mumbled at the floor. ‘It’s a surprise.’
Michelle thought she might throw up. She wanted to take Josie in her arms and tell her it would never be worth it, but before she could, Josie’s head reared up, the defiance back in her face.
‘Because I’ll be sixteen then,’ she declared. ‘You won’t be able to stop me doing anything. I’m going to have sex with Sean, and by the way, you may as well know, when I finish school I’m not going to uni. Me and Sean have discussed it and I’m going to get a job so we can get a flat together.’
‘Are you insane?’ Michelle exploded. ‘You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You can do anything. Don’t throw it away on Sean. I won’t let you. I can’t let you.’
‘What, like you did? Yeah, you really went for it, didn’t you? Bet it’s what you always dreamed of, working in a chicken factory. Well done you, Mum.’
‘But I did it for you. I did it to save money for your education, so you could go and do what
ever you wanted.’
‘But I never asked you to do that. Okay, so I asked you to marry George Clooney, but I was just a stupid kid then. I never asked you to go and work in a chicken factory. You can’t blame me for your shit job and your shit life.’
Michelle stood stunned. How could she be hearing this? The sacrifices she’d made were all for nothing. She’d spent years in that factory, and her daughter was going to waste her life. This was her worst nightmare. She had to do something.
Josie turned away and bent down to get her bag from under the chair. Clearly she’d decided the conversation was over.
‘So if I do what you asked, will you go to university?’ Michelle said to Josie’s backside.
‘What the hell are you talking about now?’ she replied, standing up and scrabbling around in her bag.
‘If I marry George Clooney, will you go to university?’
‘What are you on?’ cried Josie, jerking her head up.
‘No, come on. If I marry George Clooney, will you go to university?’
‘This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.’
‘Answer the question, Josie.’
Josie snapped her bag shut and glanced past Michelle’s shoulder, looking for Sean, no doubt. She shrugged.
‘Yeah, whatever. If you say so. You marry George Clooney and I’ll go to university.’
‘Really?’ cried Michelle.
‘Well, it’s never going to happen, is it? I mean, look at you. You’re a middle-aged woman who works in a chicken factory. You’re not capable of making anything happen.’
‘I could, if I tried.’
‘No way.’
‘Watch me.’
‘You’re being ridiculous. Look, Mum, if you want to believe you can do it, fine. You marry George Clooney and I’ll do anything you want, okay?’
‘Anything?’
‘Sure. No sweat.’ Josie shrugged. ‘I’ll even give you away at the wedding,’ she continued sarcastically.
‘Okay, okay,’ said Michelle, thinking fast. She was on a roll, she was sure of it.
‘So you won’t sleep with Sean either?’
Josie threw her arms in the air in amazement.
‘This is so stupid. Okay, if you marry George Clooney, Mother, I won’t sleep with Sean either. How drunk are you?’