by Shari Low
But she really, really, needed to pee.
Sod it, she couldn’t wait any longer. She was furious. Bloody Bernadette wrecking her plans again. Today was proving to be an absolute bust, and she had to redeem at least some of it. She checked the clock. 3.40 p.m.
She’d hoped that she would have a long, lazy afternoon with her mum, or an even longer, sexy afternoon with Ken if his surgery schedule changed, so she hadn’t made her usual Friday afternoon appointment at the salon. Still, Suze would definitely find a way to fit her in for something. Anything.
Horns blared as she did a swift U-turn then sped back in the direction she’d come from. Salon, it was. She could take care of everything else later.
Friday rush hour traffic was really building up now, so what should have been a fifteen-minute journey took twenty five. And oh, she now needed to pee so badly. She practically abandoned the car outside the salon – one of the junior staff could come and move it – before dashing in, straight past a surprised Suze at reception and rushing into the loo.
An exhalation of relief later, she checked her reflection in the mirror, washed her hands and then returned to the desk.
‘Hey Suze!’ she chirped breezily. Just because she was having – lunchtime quickie aside – a completely shit day, didn’t mean the rest of the world had to know about it. ‘Do you have a slot for a blow-dry? Maybe an updo? I know I don’t have an appointment, but I just feel the need to be pampered.’
Suze greeted her with a smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes. She’d always suspected Suze wasn’t her greatest fan, but she got a thirty per cent discount in here because Suze and Cammy had been friends for, like, ever. Although, like his friendships with Josie and Val, Lila didn’t get it. It wasn’t like they were particularly interesting. And why did he need female friends when he had her?
‘That’s so spooky, you walking in right now. Someone was in here, just a few minutes ago, and asked for you.’
‘Really, who?’
Suze shrugged. ‘I didn’t get her name. Really pretty. Maybe thirty. Blonde. She had an accent – sounded like Inverness or Aberdeen. I always get the two of them mixed up. Anyway, she said she was a friend.’
Lila quickly flicked through her mental Rolodex for a clue but there was nothing. ‘A “friend” friend, or a Facebook friend?’
Suze shrugged again, her attention already back on the computer at the desk. ‘No idea. I prefer to wait until the second appointment before I hold them down and grill them for every detail of their lives.’
Lila fought the urge to bite back with a bitchy retort.
As for the ‘friend’ who had asked for her? It could be anyone. A few of the nurses and a couple of the doctors she’d interacted with in hospitals or at conventions were from up north, so it could be one of them. Or perhaps it was someone who had come across her on Facebook and liked her page – one of those strangers who acted like her very best friend.
‘Anyway, I told her to pop in next door and speak to Cammy, so you might want to talk to him. It was only about ten minutes ago, so she’s probably still there.’
4 p.m. – 6 p.m.
Chapter 17
Caro
Buying time to pluck up the courage to go in, Caro stopped to look in the window of the menswear shop. It took a moment to realise that the wavy-haired reflection in the window was her. She never wore her hair like this but maybe she would in the future. The thought came back into her mind that she had come down here looking for answers, and all she was going to go home with was a new appreciation for the occasional beauty treatment and a shaggy hairstyle.
Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. New starts.
She reached for her phone to call the hospital, then stopped. Todd was taking care of that today. He had it. A pang of longing took her by surprise. She wanted her mum to be here with her right now. She wanted to wander around the city, arm in arm, strolling through Christmas markets and sampling mulled wine and hot pies from the stalls she’d seen in George Square when she arrived. She wanted to be planning their dinner on Christmas Day, a feast like the old days, with Auntie Pearl, Uncle Bob, Todd and the more recent addition of the lovely Jared.
And Mum. She just wanted to be with her mum.
In reality, she would be – even if it was just lying on her bed in the hospital, listening to her breathe.
For the gazillionth time that day she wondered what she was doing here.
Really, what the hell was going on? This wasn’t her. She didn’t do this kind of stuff. She was a teacher, a responsible adult. Her only defence was that everything that had happened in the last few months – hell, the last couple of years – had brought her to this point. Yep, that’s what her lawyer, paid for by Todd’s Crowdfunding, would tell the jury when she was arrested for stalking. She’d lose her job, of course. And then she’d be skint and have to resort to selling her story to Take A Break. It was a dark future that was ahead of her if she didn’t cut out this nonsense and go home.
It would have been so much easier just to send Lila a message on Facebook, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. If it was a mistake, she didn’t want to give some poor girl the shock of her life. If it was true, she didn’t want to alert her dad to the fact that she’d discovered his second family, and have her half-sister find out that way. Basically, messaging on Facebook was a lose-lose situation for Lila and Caro couldn’t do that to someone she didn’t know, no matter how happy and carefree she seemed.
So she should go home. And she would.
But first…
Okay, you can do this, Caro. Get it together. You’ve got this.
She pushed open the door, immediately coming into the eyeline of a hipster, bearded guy behind the counter to her right, chatting to a young woman whose back was to her. Caro just about fainted before she realised that it couldn’t be Lila. This girl had brown hair, swept up in a messy bun on the top of her head. The guy wasn’t Lila’s boyfriend either. Thanks to Lila’s Facebook, Caro knew he was clean-shaven, tanned, insanely good-looking, usually topless (with finely carved six-pack on show) or fully dressed in incredibly stylish clothes, while presenting her with gifts and calling her ‘babe’.
Honestly, Lila’s life was like a reality show, one in which everyone adored her and showered her with love, affection and jewellery.
‘Hi, can I help you?’ It came from the hipster dude.
‘No thanks, I’m just… looking,’ she answered, immediately making a show of browsing through the nearest rail, although why she would be wanting a three-pack of men’s Calvin Klein boxer shorts she wasn’t entirely sure.
Hipster dude carried on talking to the woman, a friendly conversation, so probably not a customer then. Okay, two choices. Ask for Lila, or leave. Actually there was a preferable third, but she knew that taking up residence here and hoping for a cloak of invisibility to keep her presence secret probably wasn’t the most feasible option.
She picked a packet of boxer shorts off the rail and carried them to the till area. That was Todd’s Christmas present sorted.
The guy behind the counter took them with a smile, while the girl asked, ‘Is there anything else you’d like? Actually, I’m not sure why I said that – I work next door, not here. Force of habit.’
Hipster dude feigned exasperation. ‘She tries to steal our customers all the time. Tempts them in with the smell of coconut suntan lotion.’
‘Ah, the holiday shop,’ Caro said, going for pleasant and jocular. ‘I noticed that. If I’m ever looking for coconut suntan lotion I now know where to find it.’
‘Excellent. My work here is done then,’ the interloper declared. ‘Right, Digby, I’m going to shoot off now. If you get a rush just shout and I’ll storm in to the rescue.’
‘No worries, Jen – thanks for the help today.’
‘Pleasure,’ she replied, then turned to Caro. ‘Coconut. We never run out.’
‘Good to know,’ Caro said, laughing now.
Th
e doorbell pinged as she pulled it open and left.
‘Actually, while I’m here… The girl who owns the salon next door…’
‘Suze?’ he said.
‘Yes. Well, I was looking for an old friend and she said that you might be able to help. Lila Anderson?’
Digby nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s the boss’s girlfriend.’
‘Is she here today?’
‘Nah, she doesn’t come in so much.’ He must have sensed her disappointment. ‘But the boss, Cammy – he might be able to help.’
Caro’s heart was thudding out of her chest again and she was fairly sure that very unattractive beads of sweat were forming on her upper lip. This was it. She was about to take that defining step, because as soon as she’d spoken to Lila’s boyfriend she’d have to tell the whole truth and then there’d be no going back.
Do it? Don’t. Do it? Don’t…
‘Is he around?’
Digby shook his head. ‘Sorry – he’s got the day off today. And he never takes the day off so you’ve just been unlucky.’
She bit back something trivial, like, ‘story of my life’, and replaced it with a more casual, ‘Ah, no worries.’
‘Do you want me to leave a message? Ask him to pass it on?’
Caro shook her head as she lifted the bag containing the boxers. ‘No, it’s fine – thanks. I’ll just drop her a note on Facebook.’
‘You’ll definitely get her on there – she’s never off it.’
‘That sounds like a plan then. Thanks for this,’ she held up the bag and then wondered if he noticed the sweat beads. He probably had that down as guilt, and irrevocable proof that she had another four boxes of Calvin Klein’s up the front of her jacket.
This was ridiculous. She was actually losing the plot altogether.
The door pinged again as she left, her attention immediately grabbed by an Evoque that was practically abandoned in the middle of the road. That was some crazy parking right there. The thought momentarily distracted her from the realisation that she had absolutely no idea where to go. Ok, focus. She was still only a couple of streets away from the station, so she could head back there. Actually, not could – she should head back there. This had gone far enough. There was no progress to report, but maybe that was fine. After all, she had nothing to gain here. Nothing. If it was her dad cosying up to his other daughter, Lila, in those photos, was he going to come rushing back to her, arms open wide, begging to take care of her? No. So finding out the truth had absolutely no upside, yet the downside was a whole big hot mess with the potential to create havoc.
Walk away.
Once again, she decided that the best thing to do was to stroll back to the station and get on the next train north. Definitely this time. That was what she should do.
She retraced her steps back to George Square, which was still heaving with revellers. The afternoon daylight had already almost turned to nightfall, so the brightness of the Christmas lights was stunning. On any other year, it would fill her with Christmas spirit and joy, make her want to drink mulled wine, and pick up gorgeous little presents for everyone that she loved. Not this year.
The station was directly ahead now, across the square, all she had to do was walk there. Two minutes max. That was it. Her feet kept on going. One minute. Keep on striding. Thirty seconds. That’s when she noticed it – the hotel to the right-hand side of the station, a beautiful old white building with a glass frontage that looked directly on to the square. Inside she could see people sitting, drinking, chatting, and suddenly she wanted to be in there. To be one of them. Not a care in the world other than the wait for the next French Martini. She wanted to shrug the weight and worry of the day off her shoulders and just be another tourist, sitting in a bar, gazing in awe at the Christmas spectacle through the window. The train could wait.
Before she’d even made a conscious decision to do so, she’d changed course. She went inside, reaching the glass frontage just as a couple were leaving a corner table. Perfect timing. The waiter appeared almost instantly.
‘I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.’ This felt so strange. She could honestly say that she had never, ever sat in a bar and drank on her own before. Another first.
He came back with the G&T and deposited it with a small bowl of nuts on the table. Caro asked for the Wi-Fi code before he went, then typed it into her iPad.
Click. Facebook. Search. Lila Anderson.
Lila had posted two, no, hang on, three photos that afternoon so far. Didn’t she do anything without turning it into an attention-seeking expedition? How did she even have time to take so many photos?
There was a ridiculous one in the car, wearing sunglasses in flipping December. The next one asked for a poll on her lipstick and the last one, in the car again, declared it was champagne and pamper time.
Caro was already halfway into an eye roll when she realised she had no right to judge, given that so far her afternoon consisted of a grooming session, a lovely lunch, and a large gin and tonic..
She went back to Facebook and realised with a jolt that Lila was in a salon.
Hang on, had she missed her in Pluckers? Was she there now? Definitely not. Suze had been sure she wasn’t coming in today. But then, a girl like Lila probably frequented many beauty venues, so there was nothing to say that she was definitely referring to Pluckers. Time to accept that finding Lila in a city the size of Glasgow was highly unlikely. Right now she could be absolutely anywhere.
She pulled out her phone and called Todd again.
‘How do you feel about Calvin Klein?’ she asked when he answered.
‘You mean, personally? I don’t think we’ve ever met. I’m fairly partial to his underwear though. In a manner of speaking.’
‘Excellent, because you just got a lovely box of kecks, thanks to my hopeless undercover skills. I discovered Lila’s boyfriend owns a shop. Went in, but he wasn’t there. So I flaked and bought you boxer shorts.’
Todd’s cackling laughter sounded like interference on the line. ‘I like your style. And I hope you got them in large, but skinny round the hips.’
‘Eeew, too much information.’
‘Sorry. Any chance you can go back in and flake again? I could do with a six-pack of socks and some fleecy pyjamas.’
‘Don’t mock the afflicted,’ Caro chided, seeing the humour in it. A pang of wishing he was here made her take a very large sip of her gin. ‘Anyway, this sad reflection of my limitations has persuaded me to come home. I’m not sure what I thought I’d achieve, but this isn’t it.’
‘Where are you now?’
‘In a hotel bar next to the train station. I’m just having a drink and then I’ll get the next train. Will you pick me up from the station?’
‘Of course I will.’
Another sip of gin. ‘Thanks. You’re the best cousin anyone could ever want. Actually, scrap that. You’re a terrible cousin for not talking me out of coming here.’
‘I tried but there are limits to my superpowers,’ he joked.
There was a pause. That happened a lot – it was like a natural interlude between happy normal life and serious sad life.
‘Have you spoken to the hospital?’ she asked, desperate for news, or reassurance.
‘Twice and she’s absolutely fine. I’m just about to go by there. If there are any problems, I’ll call you.’
Her vocal chords took a minute to respond, caught by a wave of guilt. This was the first day in two years that she hadn’t gone to see her mum, either at home, or in hospital. Yet, she couldn’t remember the last day that her mum recognised she was there. Not that it mattered. She would carry on going until…
‘Caro?’
‘Sorry,’ she cleared her throat. Getting emotional while sitting alone, drinking gin, in the middle of a crowd of strangers in a hotel wasn’t going to happen. Not to her. The thought of anyone looking at her with curiosity, of attracting that kind of attention, filled her with absolute horror.
No. Woman up. Get a
grip. Keep it together.
The waiter appeared again in her peripheral vision and signalled to her almost-empty glass.
What the hell. One more drink. She could get the train after the next one. What was she rushing home to do anyway?
Today she was being… normal. She wasn’t being a teacher in front of a classroom full of kids. They would all be counting down the hours to Santa’s arrival, wrapping gifts, visiting family, or heading off on ski breaks, or making some other plans for the Christmas break. She wasn’t being a girlfriend, now that she’d split with Jason. She wasn’t being a daughter, because she was down here. She was just being… normal. Just a normal person, doing the kind of normal things that other normal people did on a normal Friday in December.
Even the coolness of the last sip of gin couldn’t numb the lump of pain that had formed in her throat.
Normal. How could any of this be normal? Did normal people wonder if the dad that had walked away from them had actually been living a double life? Or have a mum that couldn’t remember her family?
That was how she’d known for sure that something was wrong.
It was a couple of years ago. A sunny day, the first of the school summer holidays. She’d taken her mum some lunch and planned to spend the day with her. Yvonne was in the garden, looking happy, fresh-eyed, wearing a huge floppy hat to keep the sun off her face. She could have walked right off the set of one of those health insurance adverts, or perhaps an M&S commercial. Younger than her years, vibrant, pretty. Caro’s spirits had soared to see her so healthy and happy. Perhaps the strange behaviour and erratic events of the previous months had been the result of depression after all. Nothing to worry about. All good.
They’d chatted. Laughed. Caro had told her all about her plans to go travelling for the summer. ‘When’s Dad home again?’ she’d asked, hoping to see him before she went.
‘Not for a couple of weeks yet,’ her mum had answered.
Caro had gone in to unpack the lunch and that’s when her dad had called to say he was on the train home and wanted to be picked up from the station.