by Tracy Bloom
‘Did someone say beetroot sandwich?’ said Josie, emerging from the house with an enormous suitcase. ‘Cheers, Granny, my favourite.’ She took the box from Michelle and tucked it under her arm.
‘Bloody hell, Josie,’ said Daz, appearing from behind the disco van and eying Josie’s luggage. ‘We’re going on a road trip to Italy, not Marbella for a week.’
Personally Michelle had never been so pleased to see a large suitcase in her life. Having decided that she wasn’t giving up on George Clooney just yet, she hadn’t been sure how to break the news to Josie that she was pursuing him across Europe.
‘For crying out loud, Mum, will you stop acting like such a loser!’ Josie had said, throwing her arms up in the air in disgust. ‘You lost the bet, get over it. You lost, I won.’
‘Not yet, you haven’t. I told you I was going to ask George Clooney to marry me and I will. I’m going to finish this.’
Josie stared back at her blankly as if she was speaking some foreign language.
‘Now get up those stairs and start packing a bag. You’re coming with me. Chop-chop, we’re getting the Eurotunnel tonight.’
Josie stared at her mum, open-mouthed.
‘Come on,’ urged Michelle.
‘But . . . but . . . what about school?’
‘This is life experience, Josie. I’ll sort it with school, and anyway, we won’t be gone long. Let me worry about that. You can bring your books with you and study on the road.’
Josie’s chin was still on the floor as she desperately tried to process what her mother was saying into something bad that she could have a go at her about.
‘Italy?’ she mouthed eventually.
‘Yes, Italy,’ said Michelle. ‘We’re taking Chaz to meet George Clooney in Italy, come what may.’
The negative side to this trip was clearly eluding Josie, who didn’t know how to arrange her face: excited or horrified? Suddenly her eyes lit up.
‘Can Sean come?’ she asked.
‘No!’ cried Michelle, causing Josie to fold her arms instantly in a sulky pose. She’d found the chink in the plan.
‘You are coming so we can spend some time together, not so you and Sean can spend time together.’ Josie’s stance remained firm.
‘Okay,’ said Michelle. ‘You decide. Sean or Italy. It’s up to you. But if you want to go to Italy you’d better get up those stairs and start packing now.’ Michelle turned and stalked into the kitchen, then paused just inside the door, holding her breath. A few seconds later she heard the soft thud of Josie going upstairs and then the sounds of pacing above her head, punctuated by drawers and cupboards being opened and closed. Italy one, Sean nil, thought Michelle, with a smile on her face.
Finally they were all packed up and ready to go, apart from Daz, who was messing about on his iPad to make sure that they had the perfect soundtrack to accompany their road trip.
‘Music, you see,’ he was telling Josie, ‘is absolutely essential to any successful trip. When you look back on this key journey with me and your mother in ten, maybe even twenty years’ time, you’ll remember the soundtrack, believe you me, and you’ll listen to it and a whole host of memories will come flooding back.’
‘You’d better be putting some Rihanna on that,’ was her input.
‘You listen to Rihanna all the time, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘Which is exactly why there will be no Rihanna whilst we travel through Europe. As a responsible member of the music profession I am honour bound to broaden your musical horizons. Now, as we’re on our way to meet a movie star, I thought it only appropriate that the soundtrack to our trip will be . . . soundtracks. Classic movie soundtracks of our time. Get a load of this one.’ ‘Danger Zone’ by Kenny Loggins boomed out of the disco van, nearly causing Kathleen to fall over.
‘Never heard of it,’ shrugged Josie.
‘Top Gun, of course.’
‘Never heard of it.’
‘Okay, I’ll try you with another Kenny Loggins track. You must know this one.’
‘Footloose’ belted out of the van speakers.
‘Acceptable,’ Josie conceded. ‘The original, not the remake.’
‘A woman after my own heart,’ replied Daz. ‘And finally a personal favourite.’
The theme tune to Star Wars woke up the rest of the street, who might have been having a quiet nap after Sunday lunch.
‘Turn that racket down, Daz!’ shrieked Kathleen.
‘What will the neighbours say?’
‘Sorry, Mrs H.’ Daz flicked to a more appropriate Harry Connick Jr classic from When Harry Met Sally.
‘Sean!’ Josie suddenly cried, leaping off the seat next to Daz and dashing to fling her arms around him.
‘I thought you weren’t coming,’ she said after she’d squeezed the life out of him. ‘I won’t go, you know, if you don’t want me to.’
Michelle, who was just checking the Eurotunnel ticket with Daz, took a sharp intake of breath and moved to interject. Daz caught her arm, shaking his head silently.
‘S’alright,’ Sean shrugged. ‘I’m going to be fishing all the time anyway.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ she said, flinging her arms around him again. ‘I’ll miss you so much, and I’ll text you all the time.’
‘No reception where I fish,’ he said with another shrug.
‘You’ll wait and wave me off, won’t you?’ she asked.
Yet another shrug followed by a ‘S’pose.’
‘So, let’s go, shall we?’ said Michelle, keen to prevent any last-minute changes of heart. ‘In you get, Josie.’
‘Wait!’ came a shout from across the road. ‘Hold on a minute. You got to take this.’ Gina was crossing the street swinging a box with a handle.
‘I’ve just been on YouTube and George loves wine, apparently. I didn’t have any bottles in but I had most of a box left in the fridge.’
Michelle stared at the box of wine now in her hands and wondered whether George Clooney even knew you could get wine in a box, never mind actually drank the stuff.
‘Thanks, Gina,’ she said, giving her a hug. Michelle wished she was coming with them, but unfortunately Gina had used up all her holidays to go on honeymoon. Michelle had left a lengthy message on Marianne’s answerphone at the factory explaining her reasons for taking holiday at such short notice and promising her George’s autograph. She hoped that would be enough to convince Marianne to square it with the HR department on her behalf.
‘So, do you know where you’re going?’ Gina asked Daz, who was looking at a road map upside down.
‘Well, we know the town and we figured we’d ask when we get there,’ said Michelle. ‘If we show them Chaz I’m sure someone will tell us how to find his villa.’
‘What’s going on?’ said a voice behind them. Michelle froze. They were never going to get to Italy at this rate.
‘Oh, Rob love!’ cried Kathleen. ‘Ray, look, it’s Rob. How lovely to see you. You will stay for a meal, won’t you?’
‘Thanks, but I don’t really have time today.’
‘Cup of tea then? You come inside. There’s some apple pie left over from lunch. Growing boy like you needs to eat pie.’
‘What about me, Mrs H? I’m still a growing lad, you know,’ said Daz. ‘A bit of your apple pie would go down a treat to send me on my way.’
‘You’re growing the wrong way, Daz. Out and not up,’ said Kathleen, turning her beam back towards Rob.
‘Well, actually I just popped by hoping I could have a quick word with Michelle?’ he said.
Michelle looked to the sky for strength. This wasn’t the plan. Rob right now would only throw confusion all over her mission, she just knew it.
‘Actually we’re just leaving for Italy,’ Daz declared proudly.
‘Really?’ exclaimed Rob.
‘Really,’ Daz nodded. ‘We narrowly missed George in London but we’ll get him in Italy, won’t we, Michelle?’ He put a protective arm around her shoulders.
She looked at her watch. She was desperate to escape in case Rob threw her some kind of curve ball, but he looked so desperate. ‘Well, I’ve probably got ten minutes,’ she said. ‘Let’s go inside, shall we?’ She was sure whatever he had to say wasn’t for sharing.
He followed her into the sitting room and sat down on the sofa. They both hesitated for a moment. The last time they had been in that room together had been the day Jane was killed.
‘A lot’s happened since the last time we sat in this room,’ Rob announced
Michelle nodded wordlessly.
‘I just wanted to apologise,’ he said. ‘For the other night.’
Michelle nodded again.
‘It was unfair of me,’ he said, looking away, unable to hold her gaze. ‘I shouldn’t have put you in that position.’
Silence hung between them. The sound drifted in from outside of Ray trying to tell Daz what route he should take to get to the Eurotunnel, despite the fact he had never been there himself.
‘You’re right, of course,’ Rob continued. ‘Jane will always be between us. Always was between us.’ He looked up, quickly searching her face, her eyes. ‘Even when we . . . when we . . .’
‘Don’t!’ Michelle cried out.
‘But we did once . . .’ He trailed off.
Please don’t say it, thought Michelle.
‘I guess I thought it might have meant something to you. Maybe?’
He was staring at her so intensely that she thought he must be able to see right inside her to the truth. That all she wanted at this very moment was for him to put his arms around her and tell her everything was going to be alright. That he had come back to rescue her and Josie from this lie of a life they were living. She looked away unable to bear the caring look on his face that hadn’t yet been tainted by what she had done to him. She must focus. She was going to Italy to tell Josie first who her father was. She owed her that. Then she would face up to Rob.
‘I clearly put you in a terrible position,’ Rob continued. ‘So I just wanted you to know that there’s no chance of me doing it again.’ He shook his head. ‘Whenever I get mixed up in your family it always seems to end in tears, literally. So I’m going to request a transfer. We’re just opening a brewery in Singapore. You won’t have to see me ever again, I promise.’
Michelle gasped. The Hidderleys had forced him into fleeing for his life for a second time. It was like déjà vu in that ten by eleven foot room, only with different wallpaper and a large framed photo of Josie competing for space with Jane’s graduation picture on the mantelpiece.
‘You can’t go,’ she whispered, shaking her head in despair.
‘But I thought you’d be pleased,’ said Rob. ‘I thought it would be what you wanted.’
She got up from her chair to sit next to him. Taking his hands in hers, she looked into his bewildered eyes.
‘You can’t go because you are family,’ she said.
‘Oh Michelle, I know I came out with all that stuff the other night, but there’s no place for me in your family. Not any more.’
‘I need you to listen to me,’ she said as calmly as she could, holding his gaze. ‘There’s something I need to tell you about the time when Jane was killed, and I need you to promise me that after I’ve told you you’ll listen to why I didn’t tell you then.’ He looked at her, confused.
‘It’s going to be really difficult to understand, so I need you to listen really carefully, okay?’
‘Okay,’ he said slowly.
Michelle’s heart was trying to beat its way out of her chest, but she knew the truth had to come out now. She couldn’t let him leave without knowing. But she still didn’t know how to put it into words, and she was petrified of what life might look like after those words had been spoken.
‘What is it?’ prompted Rob, a deep furrow across his brow making him look old and slightly intimidating.
Here goes. Michelle took a deep breath.
‘So . . . so,’ she began. Spit it out, she thought to herself.
‘You obviously remember that night when we . . . you know, in the park after the pub when we . . .’
‘Yeah,’ urged Rob, nodding vigorously.
‘Well, the thing is . . .’ Oh my God! a voice screamed inside Michelle’s head. I’m not sure I can do this.
‘Just tell me,’ said Rob kindly. ‘It can’t be that bad, surely.’
Oh yes it can, thought Michelle.
‘Well, you see, not long after that I found out I was pregnant.’
Rob’s brow furrowed more deeply.
‘What are you saying, Michelle?’
‘I’m saying I found out I was pregnant, and I was going to tell you, I really was . . . and Jane. The day Jane was killed I was on my way to meet her to tell her, but she didn’t turn up, Rob. She didn’t turn up because she was dead. I was about to destroy her life but she was already dead. Then I came home and you were here, and I should have told you, I know, but Jane was dead. How could I tell you? Don’t you see I couldn’t tell you?’
Rob pulled his hands out of Michelle’s desperate clutch and leant very slowly back on the sofa. His head flopped back on an antimacassar and he gazed up to the ceiling.
‘And I was relieved,’ Michelle went on, the words suddenly desperate to get out to try and make him understand. ‘Relieved that my sister was dead. Can you imagine? For a split second all I could think was that I was relieved that I didn’t have to tell her that I was pregnant with your child.’ She stopped abruptly and pushed her fingers into her eye sockets in an attempt to block out Rob’s reaction.
She heard him take a sharp intake of breath and the next thing she knew he was pulling her hands away from her eyes so she could see his sheet-white face.
‘You were pregnant with my child?’
‘Yes, I was pregnant with your child.’
His eyes bored into her, roving all over her face as if looking for something. When he didn’t find it he pulled away again, raking his hands through his hair.
‘I don’t get it,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘What don’t you get?’
‘Anything,’ he said desperately. ‘I can’t take it in, Michelle. I don’t understand.’
She was at a loss for words, the shame of not telling him overwhelming her.
‘I’m so sorry,’ was all she could muster, and it seemed woefully inadequate. ‘When you left to go to America it seemed like such a great opportunity for you to start a new life and get over Jane. To escape everything. You said it yourself. You needed to escape. I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t have gone and that . . . I know this sounds ridiculous now, but it seemed selfish. I had to let you go. I’d cope somehow with the baby. I had Mum and Dad, after all.’
Rob quite literally did a double take.
‘Josie,’ he whispered eventually, a look of absolute amazement and shock spreading over his face.
Michelle nodded.
‘But you said Josie was fourteen. She can’t be mine. I left nearly sixteen years ago.’
‘Oh God, Rob, I’m so sorry,’ cried Michelle. ‘I panicked. I lied. I didn’t know what to say. Josie will be sixteen this Christmas.’
He went even whiter as Michelle watched the realisation dawn on him that he was Josie’s father.
‘I know I should have told you,’ she pleaded, ‘but what I’m trying to tell you now is that it just seemed for the best for you to have a new life in America. Away from the fact that we’d both cheated on Jane.’
Rob leant forward, dropping onto the floor on his hands and knees.
‘Josie,’ he whispered again, staring at the carpet. ‘Josie out there?’ he said, lifting one hand and waving vaguely towards the front window. His chest was heaving up and down, almost as though he was practising labour breathing in his kneeling position.
‘I have a daughter
,’ he whispered, shaking his head.
Michelle didn’t dare move or speak.
Rob raised his head.
‘Why the bloody hell didn’t you tell me?’ he exploded. ‘She’s fifteen!’
‘I’m trying to explain, Rob, please.’ Michelle felt herself start to shake uncontrollably. ‘You’ve got to remember what it was like when Jane died. How terrible it was. How life was totally upside down. Can you imagine throwing into all that pain the fact that me and you were about to have a baby? I was too ashamed, Rob. And you would have been too.’
She was in tears now, desperate to make him understand.
‘It was hell, Rob, absolute hell. I had to live with knowing what we’d done as we buried Jane. I couldn’t grieve, I felt so guilty. Imagine that. Everyone staring at you at the funeral, not as the poor grieving boyfriend but as the cheating bastard who’s slept with her sister.’
Rob was now staring at her, horrified.
‘And I had to think of Josie,’ she continued. ‘I always thought that if she found out how she came into the world she’d be ashamed of me. I thought she deserved a clean start, not to be held back by my baggage. Turns out I’ve probably held her back anyway,’ she sniffed bitterly. ‘I can’t believe what a mess I’ve made of things.’
Rob slowly stood up in front of her and she watched as the portrait of Josie – in which she looked cheerful for once – caught his eye. He studied it and Michelle wished she could curl up and die.
‘You must go now.’ Little Slaw bustled in, appearing at the door in his Sunday best maroon leatherette jacket. ‘You must go now or you miss George Clooney.’
Michelle glared at him, desperate for his special Yoda telepathy to realise now was not the time to be worrying about George Clooney.
‘Come, come,’ he continued, clapping his hands. ‘Chop-chop. He important man. He wait for no woman.’
‘We’re not going,’ Michelle blurted. She couldn’t tell Little Slaw why, but she knew there was no way she could leave with things like this.
Little Slaw stared at Michelle before turning his gaze to Rob, who was now holding Josie’s picture in his hands and gazing at it, seeming oblivious to Little Slaw’s presence.