Life's What You Make It

by Sian O'Gorman

  Roberto: Am currently in bed with Mary Berry.

  Me: Lucky Mary.

  Roberto: She’s an excellent read. Who knew that Battenberg was so simple? Mary says it’s ‘an exceedingly easy teatime treat’. That’s been said about me from time to time.

  Me: Teatime?

  Roberto: Anytime. Love you Liv.

  Me: Love you Miss Minogue.

  I hadn’t slept well, my mind sorting through everything that had happened. I kept thinking of Cara and how young and alone she had looked when we turned up. I hoped fervently that Shirley would be all right. She looked the same age as Mum, so far too young and far too important to Cara to die. And then there was Jessica, and the bruises on her arm. There were all the pieces to a jigsaw but I couldn’t get any of them to fit and maybe I was jumping to conclusions, looking for drama where there was none. I didn’t want to leave Sandycove, I realised. I really didn’t want to go. There was too much I was now invested in, too much I cared about to just go again.

  And then there was Will. Did I just imagine that he called me beautiful? Is that how he got people to like him, by complimenting them?

  ‘Morning, Olivia,’ said James, stopping in front of me. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Fine, how are you?’

  ‘Ah, you know…’

  ‘It must be hard without Sammy.’

  ‘You could say that,’ he said. ‘But he had a good life and was a happy dog. I’m trying to tell myself how lucky I was to have him. The thing about dogs is they are not here for a long time, they are here for a good time. And he certainly had a good time.’

  ‘Have you thought about perhaps… you know…’ I didn’t want to be insensitive. ‘Getting a new one?’

  ‘Maybe. I was saying to Alison the other night that I might think about one later in the year. She’s moving into my house this weekend and so I’m busy trying to declutter and make some room for her. Anyway…’ he gave me a wave, ‘see you soon, Olivia.’

  ‘See you, James.’

  Outside Albatross in the early-morning sunshine were Catherine and Jake.

  ‘Hello, you two,’ I said. ‘On your way to school?’

  ‘We have a dental appointment,’ said Catherine, ‘so we have a little time to waste.’

  ‘We’re going for breakfast,’ said Jake.

  ‘Why don’t you join us?’ suggested Catherine. ‘I’ve made some little daisies for the chain. I’d love to see what you think. I think they have turned out really well.’

  ‘Mummy’s wearing her tiger top,’ said Jake. ‘She said you gave it to her.’

  ‘Well, give isn’t quite the right word,’ I said, laughing. ‘I sold it to your mummy.’

  ‘Well, I want one too!’ he said.

  ‘I’ve told you, Jakey,’ said Catherine. ‘They don’t come in your size. Just Mummy’s big size!’ She turned to me. ‘He’s desperate for one,’ she said.

  ‘I just want to be like a twin,’ he said, ‘with Mummy.’

  ‘I will go and check,’ I promised him. ‘Keep your fingers crossed.’

  He crossed his fingers on both hands. ‘I won’t uncross them until Mummy and I are twins,’ he said, solemnly.

  Catherine, Jake and I sat in the window of Albatross with our hot chocolates and coffees. ‘Try and draw something that isn’t seaweed,’ Catherine said, taking out a sketch pad and handing it to Jake and then she unwrapped a small tissue parcel; a dainty silver daisy rolled out. ‘There’s a little hole in the stem,’ she said, ‘so I will be able to make a chain of them.’

  ‘It’s perfect,’ I breathed, amazed at her talent.

  Catherine smiled. ‘I haven’t done anything like this in so long… but it kind of came back to me.’

  ‘I can’t believe you made each petal!’

  ‘It was fiddly,’ she said. ‘But that’s jewellery for you.’ She shrugged but still looked pleased at my reaction. ‘I enjoyed it. I’ve already made twenty others. I’ve set up a space in the upstairs office for now, dug out my old welding equipment.’

  ‘So Drithle is back!’

  She grinned. ‘Drithle is back. Now what about Seasalt? I know you want to!’

  ‘I wish I could…’ I said.

  ‘So…?’

  ‘I need to earn money. I have some savings, but I would need more. And anyway, I have a job…’ I stopped, suddenly feeling ill at the thought of going back, back to being in the office for 7.30 a.m., working twelve-hour days, spending my life surrounded by concrete and leaving the sea behind.

  ‘Ah…’ Catherine looked almost as downhearted as I felt. ‘That’s a real shame. I thought I had you convinced.’

  ‘It’s just that practically…’

  She looked up at someone over my shoulder. ‘Good morning, Will!’

  ‘Good morning! I thought it was you!’

  I looked back to see Will was standing behind me, Pablo at his feet.

  ‘Uncle Will!’ Jake shot up to hug him.

  ‘How are you all this morning? Recovered from last night?’ he said to me, smiling.

  Catherine glanced at me and then back to Will. ‘Why, what happened last night?’

  ‘Medical emergency,’ he said. ‘Olivia very kindly stepped in as…’

  ‘His assistant,’ I said. ‘I made tea and got in everyone’s way.’

  ‘And everything’s all right? Everyone okay?’ said Catherine.

  ‘Is it?’ I looked at Will.

  ‘I’ve rung the hospital,’ he said. ‘And all is well. I’ll pop in later. Maybe you’d like to come with me?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Catherine stood up. ‘We’d better go,’ she said. ‘Come on, Jake, say goodbye. I’ll have the finished daisy chain ready for Friday. And the flowers and the flower crowns on Saturday morning.’ She smiled at the two of us for a moment.

  ‘What?’ said Will.

  ‘Oh, nothing,’ she said. ‘Nothing at all.’

  Jake bent down and kissed Pablo goodbye, before he and Catherine left me and Will on our own.

  ‘Catherine is going to be moving into the bottle factory as her new studio…’

  ‘Oh yes?’ How lovely, I thought. A workshop. It had always been my dream to have a space of my own. Lucky Catherine.

  ‘I thought of asking other artists or business owners if they would like to take part of the space…’

  ‘Like an artists’ colony?’

  He laughed. ‘Yes, why not? So if you…’ He stopped.

  I wished I could ask him for a share of the space. The thought of being in the old glass-blower’s, making up my lotions and my potions, was such a faraway dream that it was pointless and indulgent to even think about.

  I looked at the clock on the wall above Alison behind the counter. ‘I’d better go. Jessica will be wondering where I’ve got to.’

  ‘I’ll walk you.’

  We began walking to Nell’s, the June morning bright and blue and glorious. ‘So, what’s your day looking like? Busy?’

  He nodded. ‘The surgery is opening at 9.30 a.m. And then house calls this afternoon. And then a swim. And then visit Shirley. Shall I meet you at the hospital or do you need a lift?’

  ‘I’ll see you there,’ I said. ‘I don’t know what time I’ll finish here.’

  He smiled. ‘Okay, well, see you…’ He paused.

  ‘Around.’

  He laughed. ‘See you around.’

  I waited for him to turn and go, but he hesitated. Maybe he was waiting for me to go first. Did he want to wave me off?

  ‘Well, thanks again for last night,’ he said. ‘It was nice to have the company.’

  ‘I enjoyed it,’ I said. ‘I mean, obviously, I didn’t enjoy the fact that a woman collapsed and was rushed to hospital. I don’t take pleasure in that… in fact, there was nothing about the evening I enjoyed but…’

  He was laughing. ‘No, there was nothing to enjoy at all.’ He smiled at me again.

  ‘So,’ I said. ‘I’d better go.’

  ‘Yes,
okay, have a good day.’ He really was waiting to wave me off.

  ‘Bye, Will.’

  Finally, he walked off, towards the surgery, and I went to push open the door of Nell’s, but at the very last moment, I looked back at him just as he turned round and smiled and raised his hand.

  I began changing the window display at Nell’s that morning. Greens and yellows and bright shots of colours, I was thinking, for midsummer. I wanted it to look like a summer garden – the yellow sandals, the red straw beach bag, the cobalt silk dress… and then the vases of flowers and the silver daisy chains… it was going to be beautiful.

  I stood back to admire it when a customer came in. It was Janet from the bakery.

  ‘I have an emergency,’ she announced. ‘I’m off to the Riviera for a week and I need to look the part.’

  Jessica was on a phone call in the back of the shop so it was up to me to take charge. ‘The part of what?’

  ‘The part of a woman on holiday,’ she said. ‘Like everyone else on the Riviera.’

  ‘Glitzy?’ I suggested. ‘If Liz Hurley was going on holiday… That kind of thing?’

  ‘Exactly!’

  As I chose a few pieces – I was becoming more confident at picking shapes and colours and working out what customers were looking for – I could hear Jessica on the phone sounding increasingly upset.

  ‘You try these on,’ I said to Janet, ‘and see what you think. Now, they have to make you feel the joy.’

  The woman laughed. ‘That would be nice,’ she said, ‘but it might be asking too much of clothes. Cakes make me feel the joy. And bread.’

  ‘Me too,’ I agreed. ‘But I am starting to see the appeal of clothes. Jessica has me in training.’ Today I was wearing another new outfit that Jessica had made me buy and I was feeling far more confident that I had in years. I had caught the sun and I could feel my freckles reappearing like they used to and I was feeling fit and healthy.

  Jessica stepped back into the shop. Fleetingly, she looked utterly defeated, her eyes red and so sad, but in a second it was gone, as she arranged her face into her smile.

  ‘Everything all right?’ I said, casually, as I hovered outside the dressing room.

  ‘Yes!’ Jessica said. ‘Everything’s fine!’

  ‘What do you think?’ Janet had emerged, resplendent in white jeans and gold blouse, unbuttoned to reveal her impressive cleavage. ‘Liz Hurley enough?’

  ‘Definitely,’ I said. ‘What do you think, Jess?’

  There was silence for a second too long and when I looked back at her, tears were rolling down her face. ‘Yes,’ she said, swallowing, pretending that she wasn’t actually crying. ‘Glamorous but understated. Off on holiday?’ Her voice was shaking.

  ‘Cannes,’ said Janet, looking at herself in the mirror. ‘I am agoraphobic, claustrophobic and aerophobic so obviously I wasn’t going to go. But last night I was saying to Hubby how much I missed out on all the girls’ trips and he said to me, you can do anything, Janet. Anything you want. I am behind you all the way.’

  ‘That’s so nice,’ said Jessica, her voice wobbling.

  ‘Next thing I knew, he’d booked me on the flight and waved me off!’

  ‘So lovely,’ said Jessica.

  ‘Hubby is my rock,’ replied Janet, still admiring herself. ‘Without him I wouldn’t have got through my cancer last year. He was there every step of the way. “Janet,” he said, “we’re doing this.” Not you. We.’ She fiddled with her buttons. ‘Should I open another or is that too much?’

  Jessica began to openly cry. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I’m just having a bad day. You are so lucky to have each other. So lucky, so, so lucky… I wish… I just wish I had a hubby like yours…’

  ‘Have you got a rotten apple?’ said Janet.

  Jessica was nodding.

  ‘You do? I used to have one of those years ago, before Hubby. Wasted eight years with him and then walked out. Thankfully found Hubby a year later.’

  ‘I thought it was me,’ Jessica was saying, ‘that I was the bad one, that I was ruining everything but… I don’t think so any more. I’ve tried to be the best wife and mother so Damien had nothing to blame me for, but he always manages to find something. Just this morning, he kicked off again because Frankie backchatted him. So, he started shouting, saying the kids are only good with me and that they are ganging up on him and they have no respect for him. And it’s all my fault because I have taught them to have no respect for him, and Ellie-Mae is a little madam, according to him. Which she isn’t. They are both so sweet. I think he’s jealous of them. It’s mad, isn’t it? Who could be jealous of children? He thinks I spend too much time with them and not enough with him. It’s exhausting. They have to be in bed by 6.30 p.m. and the house all tidy and no noise from either of them just so we can have an evening together. The thing is, I don’t want an evening with him.’ She wiped her eyes and tried to steady her voice. ‘He criticises them all the time,’ she went on. ‘I mean, I don’t mind when he goes on about me, because I probably deserve it. But them! My mam says she’s never seen such good children. Ellie-Mae tried to make me a cup of tea this morning after Damien had been…’ She stopped.

  ‘Damien had been what?’ I said, everything falling into place. My instincts had been right. The bruises, the controlling behaviour, the charm, and Jessica trying to cover over the cracks and be the perfect family.

  ‘He loses control,’ she said. ‘He gets angry and we have to wait until he calms down. And he always does. Always. It’s just the waiting. I mean, I know he will be fine tonight at dinner. He sometimes buys me something, like flowers or whatever, and he is nice to the kids, letting them watch cartoons. But it…’

  We waited for her to find the word.

  ‘It lingers. All day. His voice in my head. It’s like my whole body is reverberating from what he’s said. My teeth are shaking, my brain rattling. Like he’s inside me.’

  Janet had Jessica in her arms as she began to sob, her tears soaking the Liz Hurley gold blouse. ‘There, there,’ Janet patted her better. ‘You let it out, that’s it.’

  Eventually, Jessica managed to stop crying. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, using one end of the scarf which had been tied around her neck to wipe her mascara. ‘I’m so embarrassed.’

  ‘No need to be embarrassed,’ said Janet. ‘And now your scarf is getting all wet. Let’s untie it.’

  Jessica grabbed at it, trying to tie it back on, but it was already too loose and her neck was exposed. It didn’t look right, something was wrong with her neck, the colour of her skin. And then Jessica let her arms fall limply to her sides, as though she was giving up and the game was over, tears once more pouring down her face as Janet exposed Jessica’s neck. It was red and purple, as though she’d been strangled.

  The world stopped. Silence. Neither of us dared to breathe.

  ‘So it’s not just shouting then?’ said Janet, quietly.

  Jessica shook her head.

  ‘How long for?’ I said. ‘How long has he been… doing this?’

  Jessica’s eyes filled with tears again. ‘Since before the kids. When I was pregnant with Ellie-Mae.’ Her voice was flat. ‘He’s nice most of the time. Really protective, loves us so much. Too much, really. Hates anything that doesn’t involve the family. I can work, but have to be home. I have no friends, they all gave up on me when I couldn’t go out…’

  ‘And your mam?’ I asked. ‘Does she know?’

  ‘I’m not sure, I mean, I think so. But I haven’t told her. He would kill me.’ She looked at us, frightened. ‘You’re not going to say anything, are you? You can’t…’

  Janet shook her head. ‘I won’t,’ she said.

  I shook my head. ‘We’ll support you.’

  ‘He doesn’t mean to be like it,’ she said. ‘And if I tell anyone then it’s over. Once you start talking, it’s over.’

  We nodded, understanding her impossible position where leaving seemed scarier than staying.
r />   ‘I still love him,’ she said. ‘And I want a family for Ellie-Mae and Frankie. I don’t want to be a single mother. And Damien is a great dad… he is… I promise you. Ellie-Mae sits on his lap to watch Strictly. And Frankie… well, he’s a little mammy’s boy and a bit scared of Damien.’

  I didn’t blame Frankie one bit, I thought. Seeing your mother being hit or shouted at would terrify any child.

  ‘When he does calm down, Damien is so sorry,’ said Jessica. ‘Cries, calls himself terrible names. And he’s lost, I know that. That’s why he goes to the gym so much to work out. Helps with his self-esteem.’ She took in a deep breath. ‘I’m fine now,’ she said. ‘I promise. And it will get better. I know it will. He doesn’t mean it, and he’s really trying to be better. And I love him.’

  Janet looked at her. ‘I think you should leave,’ she said.

  ‘So do I,’ I agreed. ‘What he does to you is wrong. It’s abuse.’

  But Jessica was shaking her head. ‘It’s fine, really. People go through bad patches, and he’s not a bad man. I have to give him this chance to be better. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t. I have to do this for Ellie-Mae and Frankie.’

  Janet hugged Jessica. ‘You look after yourself,’ she said. ‘I feel guilty now going off to France when you are going through this.’

  ‘I’ll be all right,’ said Jessica. ‘I always am. And I’m not always this unprofessional, crying in the shop. Am I, Olivia?’

  ‘I’ll be thinking of you,’ said Janet as she paid for her blouse and jeans and then turned to Jessica and hugged her again, tighter this time. ‘If you were my daughter,’ she said, ‘I would want to know. And I would do everything in my power to keep you and those children safe. You need to know that life doesn’t have to be like this, okay?’

  Jessica nodded and I walked Janet to the door.

  ‘Have a good time,’ I said.

  ‘That girl,’ she said to me, ‘needs minding, okay? You look after her. All right?’

  ‘I will,’ I promised.

  ‘I’ll be in next week to see how you all are, okay?’

  When she’d left, Jessica was determined not to talk about Damien or think about what had happened.