I Will Marry George Clooney (By Christmas)

by Tracy Bloom

  For two whole weeks she told no-one, primarily because she wasn’t sure who she should tell first. So many people would be shocked by this almighty cock-up that it was impossible to decide where to turn. The list of candidates shuffled round and round in her head until eventually she decided her sister Jane was the right person to tell first. She’d see how she reacted before she faced anyone else.

  She’d mentally relived that day so many times that now every moment looked like one of those silent home movies shot on cinefilm. She’d arranged to meet Jane after work in a bar in Derby. She was late, of course. The bus from Malton to Derby seemed to take forever as it carried her closer and closer to her confession. She’d rushed in and been surprised not to find Jane there. Jane was always on time; she was renowned for it. She’d ordered herself an orange juice and found a quiet corner in the back where they could have some privacy.

  Half an hour later and she was starting to get worried. Jane often worked late but she would have let Michelle know earlier in the day if she had a problem, she was sure. Jane was good like that. She decided to give it another ten minutes then find a payphone and call her flat.

  By six-thirty she was on the bus winding her way back to Malton, having failed to get an answer at Jane’s home. She must have forgotten, it was the only explanation. Highly unusual for Jane, but there was always a first time.

  She walked through the door of her mum and dad’s house and shouted from the hallway.

  ‘Jane hasn’t rung, has she?’

  Her dad appeared at the door from the lounge. She remembered fleetingly thinking this was strange. Her dad rarely moved from his chair in front of the TV from the minute he got home from work, never mind getting up to greet her in the hallway.

  ‘Come through, love,’ he said. ‘Something’s happened.’

  ‘What?’ she asked as he gravely ushered her into the lounge, where Rob sat on the sofa with his arm around a sobbing Kathleen.

  Her first thought was that they all knew. They’d guessed the awful mess she was in and this was their reaction. Complete and utter despair. She sat down on her dad’s chair with a thud, her legs no longer able to hold her up.

  ‘It’s Jane,’ her dad said.

  Oh my God, thought Michelle. Jane knew and she’d disappeared, that’s why she hadn’t turned up to meet her. What had she done?

  ‘Now I need you to be very brave,’ said her dad, taking both her hands in his and kneeling in front of her. She braced herself for the words she was about to hear, but it wasn’t what she expected. She watched her father’s mouth make sounds, put words together in a sentence that didn’t make any sense. ‘There’s been an accident,’ he said. ‘Jane was hit by a car outside work this afternoon and . . . and . . . she’s dead, Michelle. Jane’s dead.’

  The world didn’t stop for Michelle at that moment, as it does for many people when they hear the news of a loved one unexpectedly dying. It carried on in a weird sort of way as her brain grappled with processing what her father had just told her. She couldn’t fit it in anywhere – not without falling apart right there and then. At that moment, the only place she could fit this news into was the very large part of her brain that was preoccupied with the fact that she was pregnant.

  And so, one moment after her dad’s catastrophic words hit her brain, there was a reaction somewhere deep inside her of something akin to relief. Now she would never have to tell Jane the shocking truth about her pregnancy. She would never have to sit in front of her only sister and tell her that the father of the baby growing inside her belly was in fact Rob – Jane’s boyfriend.

  Chapter Six

  Michelle had never forgotten that nanosecond of relief and had never forgiven herself for it. It haunted her in her dreams and her waking hours. That moment of relief had done even more to shape the rest of her life than Jane’s death had, trapping her in a near constant state of guilt. As she lay in her bed that night sobbing into her pillow, the crushing realisation slowly took hold that she would never see her sister again, and she resolved never to tell a soul who the father of her child was. How could she? It would be bad enough admitting she was pregnant, let alone telling everyone she was pregnant by her dead sister’s boyfriend. No-one would cope with that.

  She waited three weeks to share the news. The first week was hell on earth. Grief and despair consumed every corner of their lives. She stayed off work to sit with her parents as they stared into space or sobbed uncontrollably, while sympathy poured through the door in the form of a steady stream of visitors. As day eight approached, distraction came as they built themselves up for the funeral, busy with decisions on flowers, hymns, readings and cars. ‘Just like a wedding,’ the bumbling vicar had said, trying to be helpful, but which had probably set her mum back years in her recovery.

  After the funeral the remaining members of the Hidderley family were dumped unceremoniously back into what would have to become their new normal. Three and not four. An awkward number if ever there was one. Relationships would have to be adjusted, alliances reviewed, roles re-established.

  Michelle waited for nine days after the funeral, managing to keep her swollen belly hidden by billowing, dark, melancholy clothing. Twenty-three days after her moment of relief, hearing the news of her sister’s death, the time came to announce that the three of them would actually soon become four. Rob had visited that morning to let them know that he’d decided to take up an offer to go and work in the American head office of the brewing company he worked for in Derby. Michelle’s mother had hit the roof, crying and screaming for him to stay, clearly loath to let go of the bit of Jane that remained with Rob. Ray had had to step in, physically removing Kathleen’s vice-like grip on Rob’s arm, so that he could leave and start his new life away from the family of his dead girlfriend.

  Ray and Michelle had stood at the gate and waved him off. Michelle fought the urge to run after him and tell him she was carrying his child so he wouldn’t leave her there to cope on her own. But she couldn’t get in the way of his opportunity to escape and get over Jane’s death. She would have given anything to escape herself at that moment. Sombrely, they’d trooped back in, and before she could be asked to put the kettle on for the millionth time that week, she decided that now was the time. Rob being out of the way was the sign.

  ‘I need to tell you something too,’ she said as they filed into the lounge and resumed their sad positions.

  ‘Oh, what now?’ wailed Kathleen. ‘I can’t take any more.’

  ‘No, this is good news, really,’ said Michelle, bracing herself.

  Ray and Kathleen looked at her, sceptical that any good news could exist in this current state of loss.

  ‘I’m pregnant,’ she announced.

  Silence filled the room.

  ‘Are you sure?’ asked her mother.

  ‘Yes, Mum. I’m sure.’

  Tears started to overflow from her mother’s eyes.

  ‘Look,’ said Michelle, hoisting up her hoody to reveal a clearly swollen belly.

  Kathleen lurched towards her.

  ‘It’s Jane,’ she sobbed as she bent to cup Michelle’s belly. ‘A new life, thank God!’ she cried, smiling and hugging Michelle with real warmth for the first time she could ever remember.

  Ray stood back, reeling from the double shock of Michelle’s news and the fact that Kathleen was hugging the daughter who had long been classed as the black sheep of the family for not living up to the angelically high standards of her sister.

  ‘But . . .’ he started to say.

  Don’t ruin it now, Dad, Michelle thought. This is going much better than expected.

  ‘But I didn’t even know you had a boyfriend,’ he continued.

  Kathleen gasped an agreement.

  Michelle already had her lie worked out.

  ‘Well, the thing is,’ she said, trying hard to hold their surprised gaze, ‘it all happened when I went on that catering course up in Scotland.’ She swallowed. This was going to be the hard bit. ‘We ha
d a bit of a party on the last night and there was this guy I liked and, well, one thing led to another . . .’ She couldn’t look at her father so stared at the floor. ‘We haven’t seen each other since. I don’t even know where he lives or works.’

  No-one spoke. Kathleen was still staring at Michelle’s bump. She wasn’t even sure if her mother was listening to what she was saying. Her father was taking it all in, though, that was for sure.

  ‘But you’ll find him, won’t you?’ he said.

  ‘I don’t want to, Dad,’ she replied as steadily as she could. ‘I want this baby. I know he won’t. It will be much simpler if he doesn’t know.’

  ‘But Michelle . . .’ her father pressed.

  ‘I’ve made my mind up, Dad,’ she said firmly. ‘I don’t want him coming along and confusing me. He might want me to get rid of it. I’d rather not live with that kind of rejection. For my sake and the baby’s.’ She reached over and took her mother’s hand and placed it on her belly. ‘Just be happy for me. Please, just be happy that we have a new life coming into the family.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Kathleen, openly weeping. ‘It’s wonderful news, Michelle. It’s a gift, it truly is. And you’ll stay here now, won’t you? You’ll stay here with me and your father so we can help you with the baby. There’s no way you can go and work in that restaurant in London now, is there? You won’t go, will you, Michelle?’

  There was silence as Kathleen’s plea hung in the air. The instant Michelle had found out she was pregnant she’d known that the career she had longed for in the upper echelons of the restaurant world would be a fatality. She just couldn’t see a way round it. And since Jane was dead and she was carrying her boyfriend’s baby, sacrificing her career seemed a suitable start to the life sentence of guilt Michelle must serve. Saying it out loud, however, was a different matter. Saying it out loud meant that was it. No going back. Dream over. She was stuck here.

  ‘I won’t be going to London,’ she said, tears springing to her eyes. ‘Of course I’ll be staying here.’

  Ray and Kathleen fell on her, tears of joy finally replacing the rivers of sadness they had wept in the last few weeks. Michelle stared ahead, numb.

  *

  ‘Bloody dog!’ shrieked Josie, suddenly streaking off across the graveyard. ‘Get off it, you hound!’ she cried, waving her arms around in a demented fashion. She stopped at the corner of the church and they watched as a Jack Russell sped off looking pleased with itself. The next thing they saw was Josie holding up an empty cake tin.

  ‘Sorry, Gran,’ she shouted across. ‘The dog got Auntie Jane’s cake.’

  ‘Cake?’ mouthed Rob to Michelle.

  ‘Don’t ask,’ Michelle mouthed back.

  ‘Look,’ said her dad. ‘Why don’t we all go down the Red Lion and have a drink together? You’ll join us, Rob, won’t you?’

  Kathleen had had the makings of a thunderous face until Ray had cleverly suggested the inclusion of Rob.

  ‘Oh, you must,’ she said. ‘Let’s raise a glass to Jane, eh? She’d want us to all be together – today of all days – the people who loved her most.’

  Dear God, muttered Michelle under her breath. Please let him say no.

  ‘I’d love to,’ he said.

  ‘That’s settled then,’ said Ray. ‘It’s your round, mind,’ he added, slapping Rob on the back and striding off, the imminence of a pint putting a spring in his step.

  ‘You staying for the quiz?’ asked Daz, slapping some sheets of paper in the middle of the table. ‘Hi, ’Chelle. Good to see you.’

  Jesus, thought Michelle. Could this get any worse? The last five minutes had already proved to be probably the most excruciating of her life, as her mother dithered over the seating arrangements around the tiny round table in the corner of the Red Lion. Who was going to sit the other side of Rob was clearly a hugely strategic matter. Of course Kathleen herself would sit one side of him, clucking like some old mother hen, but her selection of who should take pride of place on the other side was causing her problems. When Ray plonked himself down next to Rob he was instantly rejected as a suitable candidate and dispatched to go and order drinks. Michelle couldn’t decide who would be least damaging sitting next to Rob: her or Josie. The three women hovered as Rob sat alone until Josie declared she was off to help her granddad and Michelle sat herself in the prize seat, deciding she couldn’t bear to see Josie sitting so close to her own father . . . and yet so far.

  ‘Starts at seven,’ Daz ploughed on. ‘Fiver a team. Crate of Fosters for the winners. I don’t believe we’ve been introduced?’ He thrust his hand out to Rob.

  ‘Daz, you remember Rob,’ gushed Kathleen. ‘Rob was our Jane’s boyfriend.’

  Daz squinted at Rob, clearly having no recollection of him. Rob stood up and shook his hand as Daz looked him up and down suspiciously.

  ‘You probably don’t remember me,’ said Rob. ‘I’ve not been around for a long time.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said Daz. ‘Where you been then?’

  ‘Well, I’ve been living and working in America, actually.’

  ‘America, eh?’ said Daz. ‘I thought of moving over there once, but the UK is the centre of the music industry, so it really just didn’t make sense for me.’

  ‘Right,’ nodded Rob. ‘So you work in music then? That must be interesting.’

  ‘Well, you know,’ Daz said. ‘I play my part.’

  ‘We’ve just been up to visit Jane’s grave,’ Kathleen interrupted. ‘And there Rob was. Isn’t it amazing?’

  ‘Yeah, awesome, Mrs H,’ replied Daz. ‘So, are you all going to do the quiz then? I had you in mind with some of these questions, Michelle. I think you might be in with a chance.’

  ‘No, we’re not stopping long,’ Michelle said quickly.

  ‘Another time maybe,’ said Rob, sitting down again.

  ‘Nonsense!’ cried Kathleen. ‘We’ll do the quiz,’ she said, seizing a pen from the pint pot in Daz’s hand. When Rob tried to speak she laid a firm hand on his arm. ‘Please,’ she said. ‘Stay.’

  He glanced at Michelle. ‘Of course I’ll stay.’

  ‘Now where’s Ray got to with those drinks?’ said Kathleen, looking round. ‘He’ll be chatting to someone and have forgotten all about us. You used to like nuts, didn’t you, Rob? I’ll ask him to get you some nuts too. Now don’t you move. I’ll be back in two ticks.’

  ‘She’s not changed,’ Michelle commented after Kathleen had bustled off to hurry her husband along.

  ‘She always did like to mother me,’ sighed Rob. ‘More than my own mother, in fact. So, how about you? Have you inherited her mothering skills?’

  ‘I don’t think Josie would say I have any mothering skills.’

  ‘I can’t believe that,’ said Rob. ‘Is she at a tricky age? How old is she?’

  Michelle froze.

  ‘Fourteen,’ she said quickly, praying the rest of the family weren’t on their way back to the table. She had no idea if Rob had any recollection of that fatal night but it was a risk she wasn’t prepared to take. Fourteen put Josie well out of the range of possibility of Rob being involved in her conception.

  ‘Wow, she seems pretty grown up for fourteen,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, well, they grow up so much quicker than when we were teenagers.’

  ‘Nuts!’ cried Josie, approaching the table and throwing a bag of dry roasted at Rob, who just managed to catch it and stop it flying over his shoulder onto the next table.

  ‘Aren’t you seeing Sean tonight?’ Michelle asked when Josie had sat down and ripped into a bag of cheese and onion. Josie eyed her mother suspiciously. She never asked if she wanted to see Sean.

  ‘He’s gone fishing.’

  ‘Fishing? ’

  ‘Yeah, what’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Well, don’t you take up fishing when you’re, like, sixty?’

  ‘I do apologise, Mother. You’re right. I made a mistake. He’s actually gone down town to get paralytic then pop a few p
ills before he shags some tart. Happy now?’

  ‘I didn’t mean that. I’m just surprised, that’s all.’ Michelle could see Rob’s eyeballs virtually popping out of his head at the mother–daughter exchange.

  ‘Please let me apologise for my mother,’ said Josie, addressing Rob. ‘It’s so long since she had a relationship that she’s jealous of anyone else who manages it.’

  ‘One, two, one, two. Can everyone hear me?’ came Daz’s voice over the microphone, followed by an earsplitting squeal of feedback, thankfully killing all conversation at the table. ‘Have you all got an answer sheet and a pen?’ The half-full pub grunted in response. ‘Now, following last week’s constructive criticism . . .’ he began.

  ‘You still limping, Daz?’ shouted a hard nut from the next table.

  ‘Luckily the swelling has now reduced, thank you for your concern, Bagsy. As I was saying, in response to certain people being unhappy that the subject of last week’s film round was B-movies, this week’s film round will be based purely on commercially successful films that I am positive you have all heard of. But please can I beg you all to go home and watch the genius that is The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-up Zombies, because it is quite frankly one of the best movies ever made.’

  Oh Daz, just get on with it, Michelle willed him.

  ‘So without further ado and if you are all sitting comfortably, we’ll begin. Oh, and just so you know, for this round there are two points per question. I’m going to read out a quote from a film and you have to give me the name of the actor or actress who said it and what film it came from. So that’s not the name of the character from the film, the real name of the actor or actress.’