The Birthday That Changed Everything

by Debbie Johnson

  But he was enjoying himself, and so was Rick, so what was the harm? His own ego had taken a battering after Monika dumped him for one of the bouncers at the club where she worked. Mainly because of the non-dancing-dick situation, I learned – which in turn had been caused by Simon’s increasing realisation that a middle-aged father of two had no place in a nineteen-year-old lap-dancer’s social life.

  The sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll all became too much for him. Eventually he started popping paracetamol, pretending they were Ecstasy so he’d fit in, then faking hands-in-the-air joy until dawn. Shame he didn’t have the brains to realise all this before he walked out on me. He’d really been a rock throughout the last year, but still…some wounds take a very long time to scab over.

  Lucy was ignoring us all, reading a book on literary criticism. She was off to Liverpool University to study English in September. I wasn’t sure if I’d miss her or not. That probably makes me a terrible mother, but sometimes the daily death threats got a little tiring.

  ‘Oh Simon, I’m overwhelmed – your work is so important! Saving lives like you do! Your family must be so proud!’ said Rick, clapping his hands together in pleasure.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Lucy, not looking up from her book, ‘he’s fucking amazing. Sometimes, Rick, at home, I have to wear shades in the house because of the sun shining out of his bloody arse.’

  We all fell silent for a minute. Simon looked angry and perplexed and helpless.

  ‘Welcome to my world,’ I said, secretly enjoying it. At least she had a different target these days. She wasn’t happy about Simon spending more time with us. She wasn’t happy about Simon being on holiday with us. She wasn’t happy about Simon, full stop.

  It had come as a bit of a surprise to me, as well. The way he’d come back into our lives – sneaking through the back door while I was mid-nervous breakdown. But I couldn’t complain – because he was the one who got me through it. His brutalisation at the hands of his Latvian lover had lent him a new air of humanity; an empathy that had always been missing before.

  He was the one who constantly called in, making sure I was okay. He was the one who once found me sitting catatonic in a bath full of cold water while the dog was eating our dinner off the kitchen table. He was the one who talked, who listened. Who looked at my photos of Allie and handed me tissues when I cracked. Unlikely as it might have seemed this time last year, he helped. And now, he was here on holiday with us, playing Dr Feelgood to his brand-new audience.

  ‘So, Rick, what have you been up to,’ I asked, ‘and where’s Marcia tonight?’

  ‘Oh, she’ll be down soon – she’s upstairs with our friend Andrew. We met him at a special party. He’s a firefighter,’ he said meaningfully. Excellent. A firefighter – irresistible to both sexes, and very handy to have around while Marcia chain-smoked her way through a crate of wine every night.

  ‘Has he brought his uniform?’

  ‘Oh, Sally, don’t be naughty, of course not – although he does keep a spare at our house! He’s fabulous, darling – wait and see!’

  I was looking forward to it already. Any man with a hose flexible enough to satisfy both Marcia and Rick had to be worth meeting.

  ‘So what’s the plan for tomorrow?’ asked Simon.

  ‘Well, we’re going out to the island and scattering Allie’s ashes, then we’re having a…party?’ The word didn’t sound quite right.

  ‘A celebration of her life,’ said Rick firmly – which was just perfect. That was the way we had to view it.

  ‘You’re not coming,’ said Lucy, slamming her book face down on the table and glaring at Simon. ‘You never even met her. I don’t want you there with your fake sincerity, talking about yourself all the time. No fucking way. If you even try and come, I’ll push you off the boat.’

  She stood up abruptly and stalked off, ‘accidentally’ knocking over his wine glass with her hip as she went. It soaked into the tablecloth, spreading a red stain over the linen.

  This time Simon looked genuinely hurt. I reached out and held his hand.

  ‘Don’t take any notice. She’s upset, and she needs someone to take it out on. We’re her parents and that’s our job. But she may be right – not about your fake sincerity or anything, but about not coming. I know I’ve talked about her a lot, but you didn’t know Allie, and I think it’ll be an intense day.’

  ‘Is he going?’ Simon asked. Gosh, I wonder who he could mean – Denzel Washington? Prince Albert of Monaco? Or James Carver, the man he perceived as his rival for my affections. I’d been rebuilding my relationship with Simon over the last year, but he still hadn’t made it back into my bed. He’d been hoping this holiday would be the time it would happen, and seeing James here had thrown a serious spanner in the works. He was worried on behalf of both his own libido, and my mental health.

  ‘Yes, he is. But so is everybody else. Rick, what do you think?’

  ‘I think she’s right, Simon – you’d feel out of place. And Andrew’s staying here – maybe the two of you could get to know each other while we’re gone.’

  From the distracted look that swam across his mahogany face, I suspected Rick had a vivid image of how Simon and Andrew could get to know each other, and ideally there’d be a professional cameraman around while it happened. I glanced at Simon. He was handsome, I thought, with his floppy fair hair and his long, lean physique. Once upon a time I’d thought he was Adonis incarnate.

  Simon nodded in agreement. I could tell he wasn’t happy about it, but he’d stay. Maybe he was getting more mature in his old age. Or maybe he was just scared of Lucy.

  Chapter 44

  Mike managed the whole ash-scattering thing without falling in, getting any stuck in his eye, or crying. All of which was remarkable, as the wind was blowing strong and the waves out on the bay were choppy. Even under the blistering sun you could feel the chill scorch of the breeze on your skin.

  It was a relief for everyone to be back on dry land, as we splashed out of the boat and on to the island.

  We were greeted with a makeshift sign made of an old bed sheet, tied to two rickety poles shoved in the sand. ‘Allie’s Palace – this way’, it said in black magic marker, with a red arrow pointing round the corner to the sheltered side of the shore.

  Harry had closed down his pub for the day, and transported it all here. The tables and chairs were scattered around at improbable angles, legs sinking into the sand. There was a bar, made of old crates and pallets, and casks of ale with screw taps on the front. Three enormous chiller boxes held wine and spirits and mixers. A wonky trestle table was lined up with rows and rows of pies, all slipping precariously to the right.

  He’d set up a sound system, which was currently belting out Billy Joel doing ‘Uptown Girl’.

  We all wandered round, getting drinks and settling ourselves in for the party. I held back until I saw where James was going to sit, then made sure I was as far away as possible. He shot me a look that told me he knew exactly what I was doing. He was always good at getting inside my head – but this year, he wasn’t welcome.

  I sprawled on the sand with Jenny and Ian. I’d been in fairly close contact with Jenny all year. We’d offered each other support and shared memories of Allie; she’d talked about the strain their fertility situation was putting on their marriage; I’d very occasionally confessed to the fact that losing James had made me feel like my whole life had ended. And that every now and then – if I was brutally honest – I wished that it had.

  It was good to see her in the flesh, but I couldn’t help noticing the changes in her. Where I’d lost weight, she was out of shape. She was usually so clean and fresh and sporty. Now, she looked grungy and greasy and unhappy. Her hair was longer and unstyled, and her eyes were glassy and crusted. Ian just looked helpless.

  Max and Mike stood at the bar, and Harry clanged a fork against a glass to get everyone’s attention. We stopped chatting and drinking and looked up.

  Max stepped forward and cleared his
throat. His hair was back to its usual colour, but his eyebrows had retained a bit of midnight blue-black. It was an interesting look. Mike slapped him on the back and he started to speak.

  ‘Me and my dad want to thank you all for coming. We want you to get drunk, sing, dance and have fun. You all knew Mum and you know that’s what she’d have wanted. She was…she was the best…’

  He started to choke up, and lowered his eyes to the floor. Mike was rubbing his shoulders and whispering his support, but he couldn’t go on. Lucy stepped forward and stood next to him, long and lithe and protective as a tiger with newborn cubs.

  ‘Cheers to Allie!’ she said simply, swigging straight from a bottle of wine. We all joined in, a chorus of ragged salutations as we swallowed back our own tears and followed the toast. Harry chose that moment to pump up the volume on ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’.

  ‘Come and get your pies!’ he bellowed over the music. ‘Before the salmonella sets in!’

  I could see Max, folded up into Lucy’s arms. She held his head on her shoulder, and was stroking his back reassuringly, whispering to him. All the times I’d wanted to throttle her melted into the background, as I watched this gorgeous, grown-up girl taking care of her man.

  She spotted me watching, and gave me the Vs behind Max’s back.

  ‘Sally!’ shouted Mike as I tried to sneak off. ‘Come here!’ He was at the pretend bar, with Harry and James. Harry nodded to me, and handed me another plastic cup.

  ‘Have a pie as well, love,’ he said. ‘You look like you need feeding up.’

  ‘No thanks, Harry, I’m…I’m a vegetarian,’ I lied, not wanting to hurt the hairy old biker’s feelings.

  He made the sign of the cross over his body. ‘It’s worse than I thought then,’ he said, shaking his head in sympathy.

  I ignored James. I was pretending he wasn’t there. Mike stood between us, putting one arm over each of our shoulders.

  ‘Come on, you two – go and talk to each other. Can’t you act like grown-ups about this? Sit down, have a drink, remember the good times.’

  I wasn’t budging, just staring straight ahead and thinking of how many nights of this hell I had to put up with. James looked hurt and pissed off and exasperated. Any minute now he’d be rubbing his hair with his hands and sighing, the predictable shit.

  ‘Go on,’ said Mike, pushing us away, ‘it’s what Allie would have wanted.’

  The magic words. I looked at him suspiciously, but his face was a picture of innocence. I nodded and gave James a flicker of a smile. He returned it, and we sat down by one of the wonky bar tables. It reminded me of that ridiculous fight in Harry’s bar on my birthday. And of last year, when James and I had visited this place alone. It was like taking a trip down Memory Lane and getting mugged on the way.

  There was so much to remember, and it all cut like glass scraping across my skin. I’d been pretending I was okay all year. But pretending wasn’t the same as feeling, even if everyone else accepted it.

  ‘Do you remember the last time we came here?’ said James, sounding off-balance himself.

  ‘Why? Did something significant happen?’ I asked. I’d agreed to talk to him. Not to be nice.

  ‘It did for me,’ he replied quietly, staring back at me. Yeah, I was significant to him for about five minutes, as I recalled.

  ‘Well, that was a lifetime ago, wasn’t it, James? We were different people then. You have Lavender now.’

  ‘And you have Simon. Where is he today? Chatting up one of the nannies? A few of them only look nineteen, just his type.’

  I sucked in a quick breath. It felt like he’d slapped me. Oh, that was harsh. Spiteful and painful and deliberate. Nothing at all like the James I used to know. It may also, of course, have been true.

  ‘Oh God, I’m sorry,’ he said, touching my wrist with his fingers in apology. I snatched it away and rubbed it like he’d burned me. Any part of my body was a no-go area for him. I’d drown before I let him give me the kiss of life.

  ‘I’m sorry, Sal. I don’t want us to be like this, hurting each other. You’re just so different, and I don’t know what to do to reach you. We need to talk. I need to explain. You need to know things. You need to know that Lavender’s gone. It’s over.’

  Chapter 45

  ‘It didn’t work,’ he said, when I failed to respond. I was too busy trying to stay upright.

  ‘It was never going to work – because I was always thinking about you. I tried for Jake, but in the end he was unhappy as well, because all we did was argue. I was wrong. I was stupid. I loved you then, and I love you now. Is there any way we can get over this?’

  I closed my eyes and tried to blank it all out. This was too much. This was the speech I’d spent months wanting to hear when I got home last year. This was the speech I played over and over in my mind for hours on end, lying sleeplessly in my bed, feverish with pain and need. This was the fantasy I woke up with every morning, before the reality crashed back in and crushed me afresh. This should be making me happy.

  But it wasn’t. I wasn’t sure I was capable of being happy any more. I’d gone into hibernation a long time ago and didn’t want to come out again. I couldn’t hate him – but I couldn’t open myself up to his love again, and take the risk that all the fragile safety I’d built around myself would crumble.

  ‘I don’t want us to hurt each other either, James,’ I finally said. ‘But I can’t pretend it never happened – you can’t come running back to me because Lavender didn’t work out. And then there’s Simon.’

  ‘Yeah. Then there’s Simon,’ he replied, his lips twisting in bitterness. ‘What’s going on there, Sal? After everything he did to you, how bad he made you feel about yourself – how could you take him back? I couldn’t believe it when I saw him here.’

  ‘I don’t owe you any explanations, James. But how would you like it if I told you I love him? That I’d taken him back for the sake of my family? That we’re having wild, crazy sex every hour of every day and it’s the best I’ve ever had? How would that feel?’

  He shut up, sat back. He looked shocked. Stunned. In physical pain. His eyes clouded and his lips clamped shut, as if they were trying to stop words he’d regret from escaping. I’d hurt him and I had enjoyed it. Jesus. We needed to stop this – it was no way to celebrate Allie’s life, or carry on with ours.

  ‘God, I hate this,’ I said. ‘It’s like a party without the guest of honour. I really, really miss Allie. And we need to stop doing this to each other. It’s over. It’s too late. Can you please leave me alone?’

  I started crying and he reached out to console me. I slapped his hand away and stood up.

  ‘Alone doesn’t mean touching me.’

  Chapter 46

  We avoided each other for the rest of the day, and I made sure I was nowhere near him when we all piled off the boat. Instead I pleaded a headache and went straight to bed for an early night.

  The next morning, I stuck to my own corner of the pool, where I was determined to practise my specialist sport – lying very still and frying. I wanted to forget about James, and being anywhere near him was going to spoil that plan. Hard to forget about someone when you are constantly having to suppress a mixture of lust and anguish.

  I stuck to the schedule for the next few days, with limited amounts of success, depending on whether I was conscious or not. And holiday life went on steadily around me – including the ever-developing vision of Simon the Macho Super-Surgeon.

  He was currently walking dejectedly towards me, dripping wet and stone-faced. His arms drooped at his sides, and there was blood seeping out of a gash on his knee. He trailed water over to my sun lounger and sat down beside me, soaking the paperback I had stowed at my feet.

  I sat up, propped my shades on to my forehead. The sun was scorching, and until he’d arrived, I’d felt relatively peaceful.

  ‘What happened?’ I asked.

  ‘Nothing. I bashed my knee sailing. There was a race, and I thought I’d give it
a go. You know I used to row at college.’

  Hmm. For one term. Usually with a hangover.

  ‘I’m guessing you didn’t do as well as you’d hoped?’ I asked, patting him on the arm. Simon was super-competitive – and, in his world, he usually won. He was a superstar in surgery, a guru at golf, and Favourite Son with his whole family. He hated losing, and he hadn’t had enough practice at it to ever get any better.

  ‘No. I didn’t win. He did,’ he replied.

  Ah. Everything became clear. Simon’s alpha male was on the loose, and I seemed to be spending a lot of this holiday chasing it around with a lasso. He was obsessed with James, with the way James looked, the things James could do, and how James had made me feel. With the things James and I had done together the year before, none of which I had told him, of course.

  He’d started going to the hotel’s gym and pumping iron every day in an effort to bulk up his naturally lean physique. He was running five miles before breakfast to boost his already good cardio-fitness. And he was entering every silly contest on offer, all in an attempt to match up to the shoes he assumed he needed to fill.

  James, naturally enough, wasn’t helping. He was already bigger, fitter, faster and even more stubborn. He wouldn’t budge an inch, on anything. In short, they were both acting like a pair of dickheads.

  ‘Simon. How many times have I told you to stop this? You don’t need to compete with James.’

  He turned to face me, reaching across to stroke my cheek. He looked indescribably sad. It wasn’t a look I was used to seeing on his face and it unsettled me. I wanted life to continue on its nice, smooth, unexciting path. Why did other people keep trying to change things when I wasn’t looking?

  ‘I do need to, Sal. I know it was all my fault things went wrong with us, but the thought of you with that…that big oaf drives me insane. I want us to get back together. Properly – not just for nights in with a curry, or a trip to the cinema. But I don’t seem to be getting anywhere, and I think it’s because of him. He’s not good for you. He made you so ill, I didn’t know if you’d ever be all right again. I stuck with you through that, and I’ll always be here for you. I promise I’ll never hurt you again. We’ve got a lot of years behind us, Sal, and I don’t want them to end now.