The Birthday That Changed Everything

by Debbie Johnson

  ‘Why aren’t you saying anything?’ he asked, the blue of his eyes intense on mine as he faced me. ‘I do love you, Sal. None of it was a lie.’

  I could feel a tide of bitterness rising up in my throat. Oh yes – he loved me so much he was thinking of running off into the sunset with another woman. It was all starting to sound sickeningly familiar.

  ‘Talk to me!’ he said desperately, trying to put his arms round me. I pushed him away and stood up.

  ‘No. I won’t talk to you. And don’t touch me. You don’t have the right, James. You can’t be the man who hurts me and the man who comforts me as well, just to make yourself feel better. It doesn’t work like that. I survived before you, and I’ll survive after you. Now I think you’d better go. Piss off back to Lavender and your bright shiny future.’

  He stood, his eyes desperately sad, and reached out for me again. A quick hug to make everything all right.

  ‘No! Just go!’ I shouted. He closed his eyes for a beat, then walked out of the door, shutting it quietly behind him.

  As soon as he was gone I pulled my clothes off, threw them in a heap on the floor, and collapsed into bed. I was exhausted and angry and desperate all at the same time. My head was on backwards, and my stomach was inside out. I wanted him and hated him and was so washed out I couldn’t even cry. So I did what my body was telling me to do: switched off from it all, and fell asleep.

  When I woke up, I found my ability to cry had been magically restored. And from the feel of the pillows, I’d been crying all night in my sleep. I had a raging headache and one look in the mirror made it worse.

  I stared at my reflection as I splashed water on my face and my swollen eyes. I looked like poo. I looked like a woman who’d lost the love of her life the same day she’d found him. The necklace James had given me was glinting under the spotlights. Beginnings and endings. I felt the sting of more tears welling up.

  I clamped my eyelids shut and squeezed to stave them off, then went through the motions of brushing my teeth and trying to comb the tangles out of my hair.

  I put on shorts and a vest top and sat on the edge of the bed, resting my hands on my knees. I felt miserable. I couldn’t help wondering if I’d made a terrible mistake last night, shouting at him and kicking him out – wasn’t that just pushing him into her arms? He said himself he hadn’t made his mind up – had I made it up for him by telling him to leave? Should I have seduced him and told him I loved him and kept him by my side; reminded him of how very good it was between us?

  My pride hadn’t allowed me to even consider that. I’d felt as if I was in a time machine, listening to Simon and his lies the year before. The rejection of that was still stinging, and I’d mentally rolled it all into one big ball of crap.

  But James wasn’t Simon, and there were no lies – just a truly crappy situation for everyone. All he’d said was he wanted to listen to her, for Jake’s sake. As a mother, I could understand that. If my kids had been younger, and Simon had come crawling back, wouldn’t I have heard him out because of them? Yes, I would – and, being me, probably taken him straight back and made him coq au vin for his tea as well. If he’d wanted to come home, I’d still be ironing those five work shirts every week.

  And what I’d felt for Simon looked like a chip-pan fire in comparison to the blazing passion I had for James. I’d never been this swept away by a man before – and I’d certainly never known what good sex was. He’d been nothing but honest and kind and patient while I worked through my own issues. Yet, last night, I’d pushed James away. Kicked him out of the room without even really hearing him out.

  It had been some twisted kind of pride. But, I reminded myself, I was both Simon’s rejected wife and Lucy’s mother. That meant I was a dab hand at coping with humiliation. It must be worth risking a little bit more, surely?

  Mind made up, I jumped to my feet and dashed out, as quietly as I could so I didn’t wake the kids. I headed for his room, and knocked firmly on the door. He was always horny in the mornings – it might be the best time to catch him. I’d drive her out of his mind with sex.

  No answer. I banged again, and again. Nothing. I stood in the hallway for a minute, nodding politely at the cleaners as they went past with mops and buckets, feeling like a lemon.

  There was nobody in. I’d woken up pretty much everybody else in the corridor, but he wasn’t there.

  I walked through the restaurant, in case he was having breakfast, but there was no sign of him, just Marcia drinking coffee and smoking. I joined her for a moment, wondering if I should take up cigarettes to release the tension.

  ‘Are you all right?’ she asked gruffly from behind a grey cloud.

  ‘I don’t know yet,’ I replied, coughing as the fug hit my throat. ‘Have you seen James?’

  ‘No. But when you find him, don’t let him go. All kinds of people try and get in the way of love – but don’t you let them, Sally. You tough it out.’

  I nodded and stood up to leave. I was fairly sure her relationship with Rick hadn’t been obstacle-free, and she was right. I needed to tough it out. And I would – if I could only find him.

  Maybe he was out on a run – he did that sometimes in the morning, before it got too hot. But then where was Jake? Could be with Matthew and his parents. Could be out with James somewhere. Could be with his hellfire bitch of a mother.

  I felt deflated – all the energy fizzed out of me, leaving me saggy and shapeless, like a balloon that had been popped with a pin. I’d been focused and determined and full of adrenaline. Now I just felt tired and hungry, so I picked up a doughnut from the buffet and strolled down to the beach to watch the sun on the waves.

  We were going home tomorrow, and my horizons would be back to other people’s driveways and passing Nissan Micras and old men walking labradors. No more golden sunrises or blue water or gently bobbing boats.

  I sat down on one of the loungers, still damp with morning dew, and nibbled my doughnut. Some things never let you down.

  Lavender’s gulet was still moored to the end of the jetty. I wondered if I could slip out there unnoticed and slash the rope with a butter knife.

  As I gazed out at it, hatching my evil plan, I saw figures moving about on deck. Lavender, I supposed, perhaps with her fellow Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

  They climbed over, and started walking up the jetty towards the beach. It was her, wearing some kind of transparent white dress that clung to her thighs and made her look like one of the illustrations in Shag Yourself Happy. Next to her was James, my James, who I knew full well could shag me happy. And in between them was Jake, holding on to both their hands as they swung him up and down into the air. I could hear him giggling from here. So that’s where he’d been all night – straight from my room to her cabin.

  I stared at them in horror, almost choking on my doughnut. The bastard. I snapped out of my trance, and looked around for somewhere to hide. They were almost here and I couldn’t bear to see that familial happiness and pretend I was okay with it. I wasn’t okay with it. I hated them both. I’d cry or scream or burst out into a chorus of ‘It Should Have Been Me’, and that wasn’t fair on Jake.

  There was nothing big enough to shelter me, so I shoved the rest of the doughnut into my mouth, and dropped down to my hands and knees.

  I started to shuffle myself headfirst under the sun lounger, which seemed like a really great idea until my arse got stuck. It wouldn’t fit under, no matter how much I flattened myself to the ground or wriggled around or swore. I tried to dig myself a hole in the sand, like a huge burrowing rabbit, but I didn’t have time. The rest of my body was safely concealed, but the sun lounger was lifted half a foot into the air, floating on the ginormous island of my backside. I could hear them close now, so I stayed very, very still, and hoped they wouldn’t notice.

  ‘Sally? Are you okay?’ I heard James say to my bottom. Shit. No way out now. I did an awkward reverse crawl back into the daylight, catching my hair in the hinges of the seat and ripping
a chunk out as I came. I climbed up on to my feet, covered in sand from nose to toes, and smiled.

  ‘Hi! Yes, I’m fine – I just…er, dropped my doughnut,’ I said.

  ‘I think it’s there,’ said Lavender, pointing to a greasy piece of pastry squashed flat against my cheek. I wiped it off and brushed some of the sand from my knees. Why did I always make it so easy for people to see me as a total buffoon? Maybe it’s because I am one.

  ‘Silly Sally!’ said Jake, getting in on the act. I ruffled his hair and gave him a smile.

  ‘Go get a table, I’ll join you in a minute,’ said James, gesturing to the restaurant. Lavender looked from me to him, then smiled and nodded – and why wouldn’t she? It wasn’t like she had anything at all to fear from the likes of me, was it? A mammoth-arsed, doughnut-scoffing, sand-coated human rabbit.

  Before she left she leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Properly, like you would your boyfriend or your husband. Or someone else’s boyfriend or husband, as usually seemed to be the case with the women I came across. He didn’t respond, or put his arms around her, but he didn’t push her away either.

  The pain was so ferocious and so instantaneous I thought someone might have shot me through the heart with an air rifle. My hand flew to my chest and my breath froze in my throat. God, I’d rather scoop my own eyes out with a dessertspoon than see that again.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know she was going to do that,’ said James, as soon as Jake and his mother had moved out of earshot. I turned to go, not even meeting his eyes, but he grabbed hold of my arm. ‘Keep still for a minute; you’ve got sand right in your eye. Not to mention all over your cleavage.’

  He gently held my chin with one hand and wiped the sand away with his fingers. Well, the sand on my eyes, anyway – wisely he left the cleavage well alone.

  ‘What were you really doing under there anyway?’

  ‘I was hiding. I hoped you wouldn’t see me.’

  ‘Really?’ he said, his voice thick with amusement, which I didn’t think very appropriate under the circumstances. ‘I’m afraid that’s a rear view I’d recognise anywhere. How are you today?’

  Oh just fucking brilliant thanks, I thought, having ten seconds ago watched you snog the face off your ex. Or current. Or future. Or whatever she was.

  ‘Did you sleep with her?’ I blurted out, with my usual tact.

  He looked exasperated and annoyed, and rolled his eyes heavenward.

  ‘No, of course I didn’t sleep with her. Jake wanted to spend the night on the boat, and we were talking. What do you think I am?’

  Male, I thought.

  ‘Sally, I love you. And I don’t hop from one woman’s bed to another like that. But I do have feelings for her – she’s Jake’s mother, for Christ’s sake. He’s ecstatic at having the two of us together, even for a few days. I’ve never seen him so happy. I have to see where this goes. Tell me, honestly – what would you do if Simon turned up; if Lucy and Ollie wanted him back as well?’

  I felt my lower lip start to tremble like a baby before it cries, so I closed my eyes, then stared at my feet. I didn’t want to look at him. Even now, as the cracks spread across my heart, he still looked beautiful, standing there in the sunlight, messy-headed and bare-chested.

  I wanted to tell him I’d send Simon straight back home. That I’d kick his arse on to the next flight and settle right back down to 24/7 sex with my new lover. But it wasn’t true, and the lie wouldn’t come out of my mouth.

  ‘Lucy and Ollie would barricade the door if he tried to come back – they’ve already taken over the garage and sold his golf clubs on eBay…but, oh, I don’t know, James! You’re probably right – maybe I’d do the same. We’re parents, we do anything we can for our kids.

  ‘But that doesn’t mean I have to watch. It’s killing me, even if I can understand why you’re doing it. It hurts too much. And you’ll never make it work with her if I’m hovering in the background. So let’s cut our losses. You do your thing. I’ll do mine. We’re going tomorrow, and we don’t ever need to see each other again.’

  I kissed him quickly, then turned away before he could argue, walking briskly back up to the hotel.

  I needed to get back to my room, where I could have my meltdown in private. I was stumbling along blindly, eyes blurred with unshed tears and breathless from the choking sobs I was trying to control. I bounced off a wall or two, tripped over a sprinkler and terrified the gardener on my way. I ended up sitting down at the bottom of the stairs, unable to take a single step further.

  A shadow fell over me and I looked up to see Marcia again. She sat down next to me, and pulled a pack of Gauloises from her pocket.

  ‘Have one of these,’ she said, handing me a cigarette. I put it in my mouth, and she lit it with her Zippo. I started choking as soon as I inhaled, and stubbed it out, coughing. Well, it was worth a try. Maybe I’d do heroin next.

  ‘I was waiting for you to come back, after I saw her arrive. Come on, I’ll walk you up to your room,’ she said, pulling me to my feet. ‘It’s absolutely shit, loving someone that much, isn’t it?’

  Chapter 39

  ‘Come on – time to get ready,’ said Lucy, shaking my arms and hissing into my face. I knew there’d be a slap next, maybe a small electric shock from her portable torture kit.

  ‘I don’t want to come, and you can’t make me,’ I said, childishly. It was last-night-party time at the Blue Bay – and I felt about as much like partying as eating a Tupperware bowl of pickled pig’s testicles.

  ‘I can make you – I can do fucking anything,’ she replied, ‘but first we’re in hair and make-up. And if you don’t like it, tough.’

  She waved a spiky hairbrush at me like she was planning to impale me with it.

  I sat and winced as she worked on my hair. I had no idea what she was doing, but it involved a lot of back-combing, burning my ears with the straighteners, and blasts of hairspray so toxic they formed mushroom clouds. She pulled and prodded with her fingers, was finally satisfied, then started rooting around in her make-up bag.

  ‘You have to go down there looking gorgeous, or at least as gorgeous as you can at your age, and show that twat what he’s missing. You don’t have any choice. It’s the law.’

  ‘Easy for you to say, Luce. You are gorgeous. But with me, there’s always someone younger and better-looking round the corner – first Monika, now Lavender. Seems to be my fate to always be the trade-in model. Ouch!’

  She’d poked me in the eye, accidentally on purpose, with an eyeliner pencil. It occurred to me that I hadn’t worn eyeliner since 1991 and should possibly be feeling the fear at this point.

  She was making ‘O’ gestures at me with her mouth while doing things with lip gloss.

  ‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself, it’s pathetic,’ she said, smearing another layer on. ‘And there isn’t someone better round the corner – just some man stupid enough to behave like there is. It’s not you; it’s them – they’re natural-born pricks.’

  I waited for the punch line – the bit where she put the boot in, and told me once was a mistake, twice made me an undesirable cretin who was fated to die alone in a puddle of my own pee. But strangely, it never came. Either she meant it, or she’d been distracted by the pot of purple eye-shadow she was slathering over my lids.

  ‘There you go – fantastic, if I do say so myself. I am so frigging talented, it defies belief. If only there was an A level in creative hair-straightening.’

  I wandered into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I wasn’t there. I’d been replaced by a large-breasted middle-aged Goth with hair so tall she’d have problems walking through doors. A whole colony of guinea pigs could have lived in there. My eyes were stripes of purple and black, and my lips were coated in thick violet goo. She’d used white face powder that didn’t cover my tan, just decorated my cheeks with streaks of pale frosting, as though I’d let shaving foam dry on. I looked like Amy Winehouse’s grandma.

  Yep, Lavender would ea
t her heart out once she got a load of this. James would probably dump her on the spot and ask me to marry him. I’d be Frankenstein’s bride.

  The upside was, maybe nobody would even recognise me. I was almost past caring.

  The party was in full swing by the time we got down there. The staff had expanded their repertoire, and Tarkan from reception was up doing ‘Born To Be Wild’, straddling an imaginary motorbike, holding on to the handlebars and thrusting with his hips. It looked as if he was shagging the Invisible Woman from the rear.

  Allie was already well on her way to hammered, and threw her arms around me as soon as I arrived, leaving lipstick smudges all over my cheeks. Which was great, because I needed more make-up.

  Mike eyed my face and hair and burst out laughing.

  ‘Oh piss off, Mr Universe,’ I said.

  Mehmet behind the bar didn’t recognise me at first, and did a cartoon-style double take once he did. He mixed me a killer cocktail without asking and handed it over to me, shaking his head.

  ‘Sally, looking good tonight…like Rocky Horror Show! “Time Warp” later, yeah?’

  I got through about six cocktails in the space of an hour – they kept appearing magically on the table in front of me, delivered by Ian, by Jenny, by pretty much anyone who wanted to show their support but didn’t know what to say. Kindness through alcohol.

  I could see James and Lavender on the other side of the terrace, and I sincerely hoped they stayed there. She was leaning in close to him, whispering into his ear over the noise of Adnan oozing his version of ‘Careless Whisper’. James looked stiff, and not very happy, and that was absolutely fine by me. I didn’t want him to be happy. I wasn’t that big a person. I wanted him to be sad and empty and have two-foot-tall hair and make-up that Adam Ant would be ashamed of.