One Step Closer to You

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One Step Closer to You Page 28

by Alice Peterson


  ‘Why don’t you ask me – see what I say?’

  ‘Maybe I will.’

  *

  As we drive on, I think about the past six months. Despite my life being turned upside down, I have never felt this safe and happy, nor so in love.

  Ben and I moved in together a month ago, a big step for both of us, but we were ready. He asked me one Sunday morning in bed. ‘Polly, I’ve been thinking,’ he said, wrapping his arms around my waist, our naked bodies warm under the covers. ‘We should make this our home.’ He turned me towards him, took my hand as if about to propose, kissing each finger in turn. ‘Will you live with me?’

  We spoke to Louis and Emily separately. Emily was easy to persuade, loving the idea of Louis and I sleeping over for good. Louis was quiet at first. He no longer asks questions about his father, but I have reassured him that any time he wants to talk to me, he can. I won’t let Louis grow up in a house filled with secrets. ‘Does that mean Big Ben will be my dad now?’ he asked after thinking about it for a long time.

  I nodded. ‘But you don’t have to call him Dad, you can call him whatever you like. We want to be together, a family. I think we could be so happy, but your happiness is the most important thing to me, Louis.’

  ‘Ben won’t leave us, will he?’ he said, clutching on to Fido the dog.

  I shook my head. ‘No. We love each other very much.’

  Ben then came into the room. ‘I’m sorry, couldn’t help overhearing.’ He knelt down in front of Louis. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.’

  I felt sad saying goodbye to my old shoebox. It was the home where I became close to my mother and it symbolised a fresh start in every way, but moving in with Ben is the next adventure. I’ve begun to put my past behind me; what matters now is my future, with Louis, Emily and Ben.

  Mum, well not my mother, really my Aunt Gina, and I have slowly begun to heal wounds. When we first met, after Christmas, she explained that she’d thought she was doing what was best, but even she could see that this explanation was too rehearsed, it wasn’t going to be enough for either of us. When I pushed her, stressing it was important for Hugo to know the truth too, she agreed that part of it might have been to punish her sister. I do understand the damage caused by Aunt Viv not only killing her baby son but also her younger brother. I understand how angry Aunt Gina must have been that addiction was tearing the family apart, first with her father, my Granddad Arthur, then Vivienne and of course, later on, me. When was it going to stop? She had given her sister so many chances, Aunt Viv swearing she’d change, promising she’d quit, all of which had been thrown back in her face. ‘Vivienne wanted me to adopt you. She agreed. She knew she wasn’t capable of looking after you. We promised one another it would remain a secret, but I’m so sorry we hurt you, Polly. That I hurt you.’

  It is the deceit I have found most difficult to deal with. I have sat in my rocking chair, going over and over it again. I don’t understand why, at some stage, they couldn’t have told me? I also now understand why my father took a back seat, why Aunt Gina was always the disciplinarian. I wonder if he ever really wanted to adopt me? We’re close, but we never had a father-daughter bond. He was simply there, a gentle presence, working hard to support his family and Aunt Gina’s decision. It seems Aunt Viv’s addiction impacted on everyone’s lives.

  The one thing that has remained constant is my deep friendship and love for Hugo. Like me, Hugo has been angry, confused and wanted answers, but nothing has changed between us. Louis, Hugo and I went out for a meal last weekend, just the three of us. He seemed different. He’s in love with Maria, I can tell. I’m so happy for him. Hugo deserves only the best.

  During the past six months I have also found strength through my friends at AA, especially Neve. I am now a sponsor to the young woman who came to her first meeting in tears. Her name is Iona, and she had been raised by foster-parents all her life, shunted from one place to the other with no sense of belonging. We’re working through the steps and I am enjoying being on the other side, giving something back.

  Harry and his wife Betsy are joining their children and grandchildren for a summer holiday in Barcelona. ‘Going to whoop it up, Polly, live every day like it’s my last. Life is too short.’

  Of course Harry was also delighted that his ploy to show Ben how much I loved him worked. Ben’s support and love has helped me so much. We all make mistakes. What counts is how we move on. I don’t want to be bitter for the rest of my life. I want to live it. I’ve wasted enough time. All that is important is that we can find a way to forgive. I am not blameless. I was a pretty bad daughter, but Aunt Gina also recognises now that many of my actions were the actions of someone who was deeply insecure. Someone who felt unloved.

  Since we’ve been together, Ben has been able to build up his business, taking on new clients, and in the past few months I’ve been thinking about going back to teaching, only this time I’d like to teach older children. When I was packing my things up in the flat I came across an old canvas box-file filled with random photographs. There were some taken in Paris, others of Janey and me at school, Hugo and me in our bright yellow life jackets rowing on the lake towards the sunken boat, pictures of Louis as a baby, and right at the bottom, an official-looking document. Curious, I dug it out to see it was a reference from my old school. I felt a surge of guilt, remembering how irresponsible I’d been at times, and that if I knew now that one of the teachers at Louis and Emily’s school was anything like me …

  ‘Polly is a delightful member of staff, who brings to her lessons warmth, humour, charm and above all, she makes children understand learning is all about having fun. She will be a hard act to follow.’

  I reread it, wondering why it hadn’t meant that much to me the first time. When I showed it to Ben he asked me why I seemed so surprised. When I told him I wanted to teach again, that it was time to think about leaving Mary-Jane in the kitchen in her Marigolds, he told me that I could do whatever I set my mind to.

  Ben and I fill one another with confidence. It’s as if we are the missing pieces in each other’s jigsaw, and now that we’ve found one another, joy has crept into our lives.

  *

  Stoneleigh Abbey is as beautiful as Ben described: a large country mansion set in acres of parkland, overlooking the River Avon. Lots of friends and family have come to watch the match, picnics adorning rugs. I help the children to egg sandwiches and sausage rolls from the coolbox, telling them not to feed Nellie. There’s something so lovely and British about watching cricket, not that I’ve done it before, mind you, but I’m not complaining about the view: handsome men in whites on a fresh green lawn. I try to find Ben amongst the crowd. ‘There he is!’ I point him out to the children. He’s talking to one of his teammates, his pullover and cap showing off his club’s crest. Ben’s team are fielding first. I sit back and relax, enjoying the sun beating against my face, not paying too much attention. After lunch, Louis takes Nellie for a quick walkabout, promising he won’t go far. We laugh when we see Louis telling Nellie off for eating someone’s sandwich.

  Emily grows taller by the day and eats pretty well now, I think to myself when she asks, ‘Mum, can I have another custard tart?’ She enjoys ballet and dance. She also loves to cook, telling me that when she grows up she wants to own a restaurant. Louis wants to make a lot of money in America and drive fast cars. Sometimes I see Matthew in him, but all I can tell myself is that Matthew didn’t have the best start in life. His father was some dodgy criminal who clipped him round the ear when he spoke out of turn. He probably did more damage than I’ll ever know. His mother was absent. I think about him, from time to time, but no longer look over my shoulder or have nightmares. I know I won’t see him again. That chapter in my life is finally over.

  *

  It’s the second half of the game. I have stopped plaiting Emily’s hair and reading my magazine. This is impossibly tense. Stoneleigh Abbey scored one hundred and sixty-five all out and
Ben’s team have scored one hundred and sixty for nine. All they need is six runs from two balls to win, a daunting task, and Ben is batting. I feel charged with nerves.

  ‘He has to hit the ball really hard, over the boundary,’ I tell Emily and Louis.

  ‘Go, Daddy!’ she says when we see him positioning himself in front of the wicket, dressed in his pads, gloves, thigh pads and helmet – the whole works. The bowler is polishing the ball against his trousers.

  He runs towards Ben, bowls … Ben hits the ball, down to deep mid-on, only making him two runs. I shriek with disappointment, it’s not enough. He’s got to make a boundary from the last ball.

  I’m unable to watch. It’s too much. I shield my face. Emily and Louis are on their feet, cheering him on, as are all the other supporting families.

  ‘Go, Daddy!’ Emily jumps up and down, clapping her hands.

  ‘Go, Daddy!’ Louis says.

  I look over to him, a tear in my eye. It’s the first time Louis has called Ben Daddy.

  I tell myself that if Ben hits it across the boundary I will ask him to marry me, tonight.

  The bowler bounds towards him, releases the ball … Ben makes contact. The ball strikes against the bat, a clean crisp sound. The ball soars into the air. Emily, Louis and I watch as it flies across the field and into the stand.

  He’s done it.

  THE END

  Acknowledgements

  Firstly, lots of thanks go to Jane Wood and Katie Gordon at Quercus for their wonderful editing. To my agent Charlotte Robertson, thank you so much for your amazing support.

  This book was helped enormously by a number of people talking to me about addiction. Mark Hjaltun – thank you for our many fun lunches together and for being so open about your experiences, both light and dark. To Johnny S for sharing his stories; to Virginia Graham, a psychotherapist and counsellor with a wealth of experience in this field. A huge thank-you to you all.

  There are other parts of the book that many friends have helped me with. Masses of thanks to Sam Boyero for telling me about her life as a single mum and her touchingly warm relationship with her son.

  To Mark Chamberlen, for giving me an insight into being born partially sighted. I think you are funny, inspiring and quite incredible.

  I’d also like to thank my friends, SJ, Ju, Debbie and Ed F-S for helping me in very different but important ways. To Diana Beaumont for her invaluable input, as always.

  To Books For Cooks, in Notting Hill, my favourite haunt for a bowl of soup and slice of cake.

  To my parents, for always being there for me. To my sister, Helen. You are the best.

  Finally, Catty Thomas. Thank you for your patience, wisdom, courage and humour. You helped me to get right under the skin of my leading character, Polly. Through you I have learned so much about addiction, especially the vital importance of AA. This novel could not have been written without you.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Acknowledgements

 

 

 


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