Somehow by the time she caught up with Daniel at the end of the performance she had managed to put a lid on her emotions; besides, all the parents were too caught up looking at the children to notice her.
‘Wasn’t she fantastic!’ Daniel exclaimed, coming over to Carmen and blowing a kiss to Millie as she filed out of the hall with her class.
‘Brilliant,’ Carmen agreed, waving at Millie.
Daniel watched his daughter all the way out of the hall and then the joy seemed to go out of his eyes as he said flatly, ‘I just wish her mother could have seen her. Every time we have one of these school events I can just see her scanning the rows, a look of hope on her face that maybe, just maybe her mummy might be there.’
Carmen reached out for his hand. ‘You were there.’
He held her hand tightly. ‘And you were, and I really appreciate that, Carmen. Millie really likes you.’ Now why did that lovely comment make Carmen want to cry again? This was exactly why she loathed Christmas, too emotionally loaded for its own good.
Daniel had to dash off to work and Carmen caught up with Jess and Sean in the playground. ‘Harry was fantastic!’ Carmen told them enthusiastically, but the words died in her mouth as she saw that the couple looked terribly strained. ‘Is everything okay?’
Sean glanced at her. ‘I’ll leave Jess to answer; I’ve got a train to catch. One of us has to work.’ And with that he strode out of the playground. His navy overcoat flapped behind him like a reproof and it hadn’t escaped Carmen’s notice that he had not said goodbye to Jess.
Carmen looked at her friend. ‘What is it, Jess?’
Jess frowned and pulled her red scarf tighter round her neck. ‘Not here, can you come round to mine?’
‘Sure,’ Carmen replied. There was no chance to talk on the way as so many other parents were heading in their direction and it was clear Jess did not want anyone to overhear. It was only when they were inside the house that Jess opened up. She’d been accused of being drunk in class and had been suspended from work.
‘Of course it’s absurd!’ Jess exclaimed, enacting her all-too-familiar routine of denial. ‘It’s some bloody student who’s got it in for me, but because the college are so paranoid about keeping students, so they don’t lose funding, it’s the teachers who get it in the neck. It’s fucking outrageous!’ She stomped round the kitchen grabbing a bottle of wine from the fridge and without even asking Carmen, poured out two generous glasses of Pinot Grigio. ‘It’s fucking Christmas, alright? I’m having a drink, along with most of the population, so don’t give me a hard time.’
Carmen had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She could not let this moment go. She had to lay it on the line to Jess about her drinking. ‘Are you sure you weren’t drunk in class?’ Carmen said quietly. ‘Daniel says he’s been concerned for a while that you were drinking too much.’
Jess froze, wine glass in hand, and glared at Carmen. ‘How fucking dare you! What happened to my friend, the one who was on my side? Since you’ve shacked up with Daniel you’ve become so unbearably smug. I wish I’d never introduced you. You’re so obsessed with him, it’s pathetic! And you know you’re not the first, don’t you? He could fill an entire classroom with the women he’s shagged in the last year alone. You’re just one in a very long line.’ Wine splashed out of her glass as she pointed her hand accusingly at Carmen. ‘I feel more betrayed by you than when that bitch whore from hell shagged Sean!’
Her features were contorted and ugly with rage, brown eyes narrowed into slits of hate. Carmen was utterly shell-shocked by the venom pouring out of her friend. She hardly recognised her. ‘This has got nothing to do with Daniel!’ Carmen shot back, equally passionate. ‘I’ve noticed how much you’ve been drinking. For God’s sake, Jess, you ended up in hospital! You’ve got a serious problem and you’re in real danger of losing everything.’ Carmen got up from her chair. Her voice was shaking with emotion. ‘You’ve got to get help, Jess. Please. I’ll do whatever I can; I’ll look after Harry if you go to a clinic. I know you can beat this, Jess, you’re such a strong person.’
There was a pause when Jess silently glared at her. Then she spat out more venom. ‘Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Looking after my son, playing at being his mum, just like you’re playing at being Millie’s! No wonder you want Daniel so much, you’ve got your own ready-made family. Everything’s worked out so perfectly for you, hasn’t it? How lucky for you, Carmen. Well, you can fuck off out of my house. I don’t need you in my life. Go on, go back to your pretend family. I don’t want you anywhere near mine.’
Somehow Carmen stumbled up the stairs and out of the front door.
She sobbed all the way home, oblivious to the curious looks of passers-by, oblivious to the cold biting wind whipping at her body. Her jacket was open but she was too dazed to do it up. Somewhere deep down she knew that Jess didn’t really mean those terrible words, that she was lashing out because of her addiction; but Carmen couldn’t be rational now. The things Jess had said had been so cruel, and so wounding.
There was no word from Jess in the days that followed. And Carmen felt too hurt and too battered to contact her friend. She spoke to Sean and he told her that things were very bad, that unless Jess went into rehab he would leave her and take Harry with him, but not even that threat seemed to impact on Jess who was still drinking, stopping only when she passed out. Not wanting their son to see his mother in this state, Sean had sent Harry to stay at his grandmother’s as the children had now broken up for the Christmas holidays.
Carmen felt as if she had an icy shard of pain inside her. She could not get Jess’s words out of her head. It wasn’t Jess’s jibe that she was one in a long line of women. That she could deal with. It was the comments about Carmen wanting to be part of a ready-made family, to be Millie’s mum. Those were the words she could not forget. The fact that it was Christmas only amplified the feeling, as every time she was round at Daniel’s, Millie was so keen to involve her in the whole Christmas countdown, insisting Carmen help decorate the tree, going through her list to Father Christmas in painstaking detail. Even as she smiled at Millie and went along with the whole Santa fantasy, she felt hollow inside, a fraud. She knew that she would have to tell Daniel the truth. She had been living in a dream, enjoying the moment, pushing out thoughts of the past and of the future. She had reached a turning point.
The twenty-first of December – the winter solstice, the shortest day in the year and the night of the Burning of the Clocks Parade. The workshop where Carmen had met Daniel seemed to belong to another life. She’d moved to Brighton to escape her past but it had caught up with her and she was going to have to deal with it – and soon. She would have preferred to be just with Daniel and Millie on the procession, but she suspected that would be out of the question, and sure enough they were part of a large group of parents and children from school. She felt Jess’s absence keenly and had a horrible sick feeling that Jess was never going to stop her destructive behaviour, that her friend was lost to her.
It was a perfect night, with a clear starry sky. There was no wind, but it was bitterly cold, a sharp white cold that got into your bones. The group had to assemble at Brighton Dome, a theatre next to the Pavilion. The children were high as kites, darting about, delirious with excitement, at the combined thrill of staying up past their bedtime and it being so close to Christmas. The adults were caught up in the children’s excitement, passing round hipflasks, in between trying to rein in their offspring. There were hundreds of lanterns glowing with candles, and spectacular giant paper sculptures of vast clocktowers, alarm clocks, clocks with wings, time bombs. There were figures too – a King and Queen whose paper arms and heads could be moved by their carriers, like giant puppets. There were jugglers and acrobats on stilts, dressed in white suits and pointed Pierrot hats, drummers beating out a rhythm that got into Carmen’s head. A rhythm that told her tonight was the night she had to tell Daniel. She had run out of time.
Finally the
procession set off, to the accompaniment of the drums. The streets were packed with people watching, and the city had an air of carnival about it, accentuated by the Christmas lights strung across the streets. Even the weird and wonderful Pavilion, with its cream-coloured towers like a maharajah’s palace, was overshadowed by the procession, the lanterns bobbing around like enormous fireflies, the puppets held aloft, moving their arms as if they were orchestrating the event.
‘Bit different from how you’d usually spend a Thursday night with your media friends in London I imagine, Carmen?’ Violet remarked as she walked beside her. Carmen, who wanted to prepare herself for talking to Daniel, could really do without Violet needling her.
‘Yes, usually I’d be hoovering up cocaine while drinking champagne out of a crystal-studded Louboutin and eating the meat of some endangered species.’ She paused. ‘Violet, I know why you dislike me so much.’
Violet gave her a wide-eyed startled-fawn look of surprise, which Carmen did not buy, and didn’t answer as Daniel rejoined them. He was wearing a black fake-fur hat with ear flaps. Any other man would have looked ridiculous. Daniel as usual looked beautiful, striking, like a hunter.
‘Look, Carmen, your favourite shoe shop,’ Millie said excitedly as they made their way past Kurt Geiger. Yes, even in the short time she had known Millie she had managed to instil a love of shoes in the little girl. Perhaps that was how she could remember her: the woman who couldn’t give Daddy what he really wanted but had lovely shoes. And on the procession went into East Street, a narrow road which led to the sea, usually a magnet for shoppers, but now it was the shops which looked out of place against the lanterns. Shoes and beautiful clothes would not save her, would not save anyone. Bloody hell, she was getting maudlin, it must be the brandy. The drumming seemed to get louder, more insistent, as the procession filed across the main seafront road and on to the promenade. Brighton Pier, with its neon lights flashing on and off, looked particularly garish. The sea was an inky black, perfectly calm, the lights of the pier reflecting on it in pools of gold.
‘I am so glad that you went to that workshop,’ Daniel told her, as he reached out and held her hand. ‘You’ve been the best thing to happen to me and Millie in such a long time. Millie has already said that she wants to spend Christmas with you next year.’
He smiled at her, and Carmen thought she would shatter as she forced herself to smile back. ‘I’m so glad too.’ And then, because she knew the truth was going to hurt, added, ‘Even if I did ruin my leather jacket, it was worth it. And as it was Alexander McQueen, that is really saying something.’ If in doubt go for the cheap gag, make them laugh, because you know that tears are just around the corner, or at the end of Madeira Drive, to be precise.
The procession was now reaching its climax where there would be a huge bonfire on the beach and all the lanterns would be burnt, culminating in a firework display. As they drew closer to the final destination there came the sound of a woman humming, a noise which seemed to hang in the night.
‘Daddy,’ Millie piped up, ‘I don’t want to burn my lantern, please can I keep it?’ She clutched it tightly, as if fearing it would be forcibly taken from her.
‘But you won’t be able to make your wish,’ Violet said. For a woman with two children, Violet could be breathtakingly insensitive.
Millie looked upset. ‘But I need to make my wish that Mummy comes back.’
‘Well, you’ll have to hand your lantern over,’ Violet persisted. ‘Only that way can you make a wish, that’s the whole point of making it.’
‘You can have mine,’ Carmen told Millie. ‘Keep your lantern.’
‘But what about your wish?’ Millie asked her anxiously.
‘Carmen can wish on mine,’ Daniel told her. Oh Daniel, if only you knew, I have used up all my wishes, Carmen thought as she gave her lantern to the little girl and watched her hand it to the line of people passing the lanterns on to the bonfire.
‘Come on.’ Daniel took her hand and Millie’s and led them to the edge of the barrier from where they would get a good view of the fireworks. The music seemed to get louder, now the humming had been joined by the plaintive tones of a cello. In front of the bonfire was an enormous paper sculpture of a queen. Her arms were stretched out as if in welcome. Carmen realised that the queen was also on fire, a slow, controlled fire, from inside the structure, turning her white skirt a vivid orange. As the flames took hold she seemed to sway as if dancing. It was a powerful image against the black of the sky and the black of the sea. Carmen found herself offering a silent prayer to the burning queen. Help me do this thing; help me let go of the past. And help my friend Jess. The fire around the queen grew more intense; it wouldn’t be long before she was consumed by the flames. Behind her the bonfire had been lit, yellow and orange flames leaped out, reaching up to the black sky.
‘Did you invest my lantern with your hopes and wishes?’ Daniel asked her, ducking his head down so she could hear him over the music. He was clearly expecting a lighthearted response from her by the way he smiled, a quip from Comedy Carmen. She took a moment to take in his beautiful face, his warm eyes, his lips which she adored kissing. I really can’t bear to lose him, she thought.
‘I did. I hoped that Jess would be okay.’
It was true, but she was putting off the moment. Now, tell him now, the music seemed to implore her. The queen shifted in the fire, her arms seeming to stretch in supplication as the flames licked around her.
‘I made a wish too,’ Daniel replied. His face was so close to hers she could feel his warm breath, felt the slight graze of his stubble on her cheek, cold in the December air.
‘Do you want to know what it was?’
‘Shouldn’t you keep it a secret?’
‘Not this – it only has a chance if I’m honest. So here goes. I wished you would stay in Brighton, because I’ve fallen in love with you.’
‘You love me?’ Carmen asked. ‘Really?’ She was stunned by the revelation, absolutely had not seen it coming.
‘Really.’ Daniel smiled at her. Then he took off the ridiculous fur hat. Gone was the long hair, in its place short hair, cut close to his head. If possible he looked even more beautiful than before, as all focus was now on his face, those features, those deep brown eyes. ‘I know you prefer short hair, so I did it for you.’
This should have been a perfect moment and Carmen was greedy to hold on to it as she put her hand to his face, stood on tiptoes and kissed him. But it was a kiss that felt as if it was under false pretences. ‘There’s something I have to tell you and I don’t want to tell you, but I have to.’
Daniel smiled at her. ‘Well, I know your divorce hasn’t come through yet, nor has mine, but they will, so that’s okay.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s not that.’
Daniel shrugged. ‘What, then? What could be so bad? That you don’t want to go to the allotment any more? You don’t have to, I know you don’t really enjoy it. That you’re sick of eating vegetarian food? I’ll cook you some meat if you like, so long as it’s organic.’
It crossed Carmen’s mind that Daniel was just as afraid of hearing what she had to say as she was of saying it.
She shook her head. ‘No to all of those. The thing I have to tell you is a big thing. A really big thing.’ Oh God, did she have to go ahead and say this? But she knew she had to. ‘I can’t have children. And I have to tell you because I know you want to have them, and if that’s a problem I need to know now.’
A pause, everything hung in the balance, everything depended on his answer. Daniel frowned. ‘I didn’t mean to freak you out the other night; I just wanted you to know how I felt about children. But we don’t have to have a baby yet, I know it’s early days.’
Carmen felt cold despair grip her. ‘It’s not about timing. I can’t have them. It’s not that I don’t want them because I do, more than anything else, but I physically can’t have them. I have tried everything and couldn’t. And it wasn’t my husband, it was me.�
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Daniel didn’t say anything, just looked at her, a look which she couldn’t fathom.
And then further conversation was made impossible by fireworks exploding over the beach. Millie squealed with delight and demanded to be given a piggyback so she could better see the elaborate showers of green and blue, the gold and silver fireworks that bloomed like giant flowers in the sky, jets of white glittering sparkles, silver and gold spirals. How hopeful and optimistic the fireworks seemed, blazing away in the darkness. And then nothing, just smoke and the smell of gunpowder. The darkness was always going to win.
Carmen felt numb. She had done what she had set out to do. It was obvious, Daniel wouldn’t want her now – the reject, the defective – and who could blame him? Their romance had been as short and intense as the fireworks, but it was over.
But then, after Millie had slid off his back he turned to her and said, ‘What you’ve told me doesn’t make any difference. I love you, Carmen.’ There was an urgency to his voice. Carmen so wanted to believe him. Maybe everything would be alright. A tiny spark of hope ignited within her. She had told him the truth and he had said that he loved her. A thought which burned brighter than any of the fireworks . . .
17
Christmas Eve. Carmen was on the train headed for London and Marcus. She’d said goodbye to Daniel and Millie the day before. Imogen still hadn’t said if she was coming back or not. Daniel suspected not and had wanted Carmen to come with them, but Carmen felt she couldn’t let Marcus down. Leo was spending it with his daughter and his parents who were not accepting of Marcus as his partner. There had been no more talk about her revelation. She was on tenterhooks, analysing Daniel’s every expression and the way he spoke to her to see if anything had changed between them, any shift that she could detect. But there was none. Could Daniel have truly meant what he said? That he didn’t mind? It seemed too wonderful to believe, too good to be true. Carmen did not trust things that seemed too good to be true.
A Funny Thing About Love Page 25