Learning to Dance Again

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Learning to Dance Again Page 32

by Frankie Valente


  Someone put a tray of sandwiches on the table, and set a soup tureen in the middle.

  ‘Shall I be mother?’ Bryden said, lifting the lid of the tureen, and ladling some into a bowl. He passed it to Julia. ‘Leek and tattie soup; Dad’s favourite.’

  ‘Really? I thought he liked my carrot and coriander soup best.’

  Jamie shook his head. ‘No Mam, he told us he preferred his mam’s leek and tattie soup; sorry!’

  Julia laughed. ‘The lying little devil,’ she said.

  They tucked into their food, with the volume of chatter almost drowning out the musicians. The atmosphere was lively, and not exactly in keeping with Julia’s idea of what a memorial lunch should be; it felt more like a wedding reception, but she was delighted all the same.

  The soup and sandwiches were cleared away and in turn replaced by plates of homemade cakes and cups of tea. Julia poured herself another glass of wine. She was starting to relax now. It was lovely to see Duncan’s friends and colleagues in such a nice setting. She could hear snippets of conversation about him.

  She got up and went to sit at another table to chat to people she hadn’t seen for a while. It made her realise she had been keeping to herself too much. After a while she went over and sat next to Marianne, who was talking to mutual friends.

  Julia went back to her table just as Cameron stood up and walked over to the stage. He waited until the fiddle players had finished and then he called for silence.

  ‘I just wanted to say a few words, and I know Jamie and Bryden also want to come up here and say something. You might want to top up your glasses while I speak,’ he began. He looked over at Julia and smiled and paused for a moment.

  ‘Last year when Duncan died, we were all stunned and saddened. We still are; but Jamie and Bryden decided we should have some kind of memorial event for Duncan. They didn’t want a kirk service or anything terribly formal, so we came up with this. For those of you who aren’t involved in Up Helly Aa, you may not realise Duncan contributed so much to this year’s costume. This shield I’m holding; this was Duncan’s design. Beautiful isn’t it?

  ‘Duncan was one of my closest friends. I was best man at his wedding and I cannot remember the time before I knew Duncan. We were friends before we went to primary school, so it has been hard to see him go; harder still for his family.

  ‘But we’re not here to be sad and miserable. Today is about celebrating his life and his achievements. And with this in mind we have been circulating this book.’ Cameron lifted up a large leather bound book and held it above his head for a moment. ‘If you have not already done so, we would like you to share something about Duncan in the book. You can write anything you want, but we would prefer it to be something funny.

  ‘Here is a perfect example. Written by Sarah Anderson: My best memory of Mr Robertson is when we went on a school trip to Inverness. We were sitting in a restaurant and Miss Phipps was complaining to the waiter about the soup being cold, and she was being really grumpy with him. Mr Robertson pulled a face behind her back, but she saw him in the mirror and got really cross with him. I literally wet myself, it was so funny.’

  Cameron paused while people laughed; the laughter increasing in volume when Miss Phipps stood up and took a bow. Julia almost cried with laughter. She had heard many stories about Miss Phipps over the years, and she couldn’t believe she was taking that story so well.

  ‘I’m sorry Agnes, I didn’t see you there,’ Cameron said, bowing to Miss Phipps. ‘Anyway, this is the kind of thing we want to hear. These are the stories Jamie and Bryden will be able to share with their own children one day, when they ask about their grandfather. Duncan was a real character, and we want to be able to remember the good times. Now, I can see that Bryden has something to say.’

  Bryden climbed up onto the stage and shook hands with Cameron.

  ‘I would also like to thank everyone for coming today. As I’m sure you know, I’m going to be taking over my Dad’s old job as a Maths teacher on Monday morning. These are big shoes to fill and I have to say I’m a little nervous.’ Bryden paused, as a ripple of supportive applause rang out.

  ‘Anyway, it’s great to be back in Shetland. Dad wanted us to get out and see the world, and maybe I haven’t done as much of that as he wanted, but to be honest, I have seen enough of the world to know where I want to be. I would be very happy to have the kind of life Dad had. He enjoyed his work, he loved Shetland and he loved us. I can’t imagine a better life. I’m proud to follow in his footsteps and I hope I will do him proud in my new job.’

  Bryden stepped down off the stage and passed the microphone to Jamie, who had to wait a minute while the applause died down before he could speak.

  ‘First of all, I would like to thank Cameron for helping us to organise today. Dad would have loved it. He was a great inspiration to us when we were growing up, although he seemed to think he was a boring old fart, just because he was a Maths teacher. But he was a great teacher, and I don’t think Bryden and I would be starting out on such good career paths without his help. And Mam’s of course! The funny thing is I have just decided to change my career. I’m going into medical research, and that will involve a lot more of the maths Dad taught us. So maybe I have more in common with him than I ever thought.

  ‘This year has been hard on everyone. We thought Dad was on the mend, so it was doubly cruel to lose him like that. But as he said in a letter he wrote to me while he had cancer - he will never leave us; he is in our DNA. He didn’t want us to be miserable if he died, and it has been very hard not to be, but a year later we know we have to make more effort to live the life he wanted for us. It starts today. So thank you all for coming along to celebrate his life, and adding to the happy memories we have of him.’

  As Jamie stepped off the stage, there was a loud and enthusiastic round of applause. Cameron slapped him on his back and shook hands with him again. Julia smiled at the sight of her two sons standing next to the stage with Duncan’s best friend. The late afternoon sun pierced the stained glass windows of the hall and threw a heavenly spotlight on them, catching on their armoured breast plates. They turned and marched across the room towards her, their black cloaks sweeping the ground as they walked. Julia wished she could have a photograph of them like that.

  Jamie and Bryden sat down at the table again, while Cameron walked over to speak to some other friends.

  ‘Well done. I’m so proud of you both,’ Julia said.

  When they got a taxi home that evening, both Bryden and Jamie were a little bit tipsy. They sat in the lounge still wearing their Viking costumes, which they seemed reluctant to change out of, giggling and being silly.

  ‘You know something Mam, I think Cameron likes you,’ Jamie said, learning forward to help himself to a sandwich that Julia had put down on the coffee table. She hoped some more food might sober them up a little.

  ‘Of course, he likes me, we’ve been friends for decades,’ Julia said, as she picked up her mug of tea. She held it in her hands without drinking, squinting at her son, and waiting for him to explain himself.

  ‘I meant he kind of fancies you.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. This isn’t the day to talk about things like that anyway,’ she replied, gulping back her tea and nearly choking.

  ‘I know, but Dad did say we had to encourage you to “get back out there,” didn’t he Bryden?’

  ‘Yeah; Cameron’s OK Mam. You should go for it one day. You scrub up well.’

  ‘You two are cheeky bastards when you’ve had a drink! I think I might go to bed now. But thanks for today, it was fabulous.’

  25

  Julia made breakfast for Bryden before he went to school. He had stayed over the night before the dreaded anniversary. She made him coffee, and a bacon sandwich, and she had put together some chicken and salad in a lunch box for him. She watched him drink his coffee and remembered.

  Bryden left the house and got into his father’s old car. He waved at Julia who stood at the kitchen
window watching him. She lifted her hand and smiled at him. She turned and bumped into Jamie who had wandered barefoot into the kitchen without her hearing.

  ‘Oh, you made me jump,’ she said, stepping back.

  ‘He left early; I was going to get a lift into town.’

  ‘Your father always used to leave at this time…I can drive you into town later if you want. I have a meeting with the social worker about my application. I should hear their decision today.’

  ‘Cool. I’d better go and get dressed then.’ Jamie turned as if to go upstairs and then he stopped. ‘Are you alright Mam? Are you thinking about Dad?’

  ‘I’m always thinking of him. But yeah, I was just remembering how I watched your father drive away in the same car this time last year. He was so excited to be back at school, but kind of nervous too; just like Bryden is at the moment.’

  ‘I’m glad Bryden has come home, aren’t you?’ Jamie said, as he wrapped his arms around his mother. He kissed the top of her head, and held her for a moment.

  ‘I am actually. I think he’ll get on well here. And I’m glad you’re happier now too.’

  ‘I am. I really am, and I hope you will be too one day.’

  Julia shrugged, as Jamie let go of her.

  ‘I have you two in my life; what’s not to be happy about?’

  Jamie laughed, as she had intended him to do and then he turned and sprinted upstairs like a teenager.

  Julia met Miranda, her social worker from the fostering and adoption team, in reception. Miranda smiled and shook hands with Julia and led the way to a private meeting room. Julia had not been anxious about the decision before now, but as she followed Miranda she got the distinct feeling something was not quite right. Miranda was not her normal chatty and friendly self.

  They sat down at the table and Miranda put down a manila folder and offered Julia a cup of tea. Julia declined; she could sense Miranda was stalling for time.

  ‘They’ve turned me down, haven’t they?’ Julia said.

  Miranda looked up from the folder, startled at Julia’s forthrightness.

  ‘Um, well yes, actually. I’m really sorry. Personally, I thought you would be perfect, and Lord knows we need all the foster carers we can get.’

  ‘So why then?’ Julia demanded, even though she was on the point of just getting up and walking out. Her hands clenched around the strap of her handbag.

  ‘There were a couple of things actually. First of all, the panel decided it might be too soon for you to take on this responsibility after losing your husband.’

  ‘It’s been a whole year! And yes, I may still be sad, but frankly, I’m not an emotional wreck am I?’ Julia said, holding her head up defiantly.

  ‘Well, the thing is, one of the panel members knows you, and she said that in her opinion you hadn’t been coping very well. She believed your alcohol consumption was far higher than you had declared on your application, and you had a habit of picking up men at parties and taking them home.’

  ‘Huh? What? Are you sure they were looking at the right file?’ Julia sat back in her chair with her mouth open in surprise.

  ‘She also said you told her that all you wanted to do was to jet off around the world and have fun with your husband’s life insurance money, and just a week after you said that you flew off to Italy for a whole month.’

  ‘Oh my God, don’t tell me Paula Adams is on the panel? Well that explains everything. That two-faced bitch would say anything to stab me in the back.’ Julia stood up, knocking her chair over in her haste. She turned to pick it up, brushing a tear away from her face.

  ‘Julia, wait! I can see you’re upset about this. Sit down; maybe we can sort this out.’

  Julia did not reply, she opened the door and rushed out of the building. She got in her car and drove off, but didn’t get very far before she had to pull over to wipe angry tears from her face. She calmed down a little and then set off again, before realising she was just about to drive past the cemetery. She stopped the car and got out and hurried through the gates, almost breaking in a run towards Duncan’s grave. She sat down on the bench and burst into tears, ignoring the sympathetic smile from an elderly woman who was putting flowers on a grave nearby.

  A few minutes later the woman came over and joined Julia on the bench. Wordlessly the old woman put her arm around Julia’s shoulder and sat with her as Julia continued to sob. When Julia started to rummage in her pockets and handbag for tissues, the woman reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a freshly laundered handkerchief and handed it to Julia.

  ‘Thanks!’ Julia said, taking it to wipe her eyes and then to loudly blow her nose.

  ‘I used to know your husband,’ the woman said, ‘we worked at the same school.’

  Julia turned to look at her properly and then recognised her.

  ‘Oh yes, Martha Plummer, I remember you. You taught History didn’t you? And your husband was an English teacher.’

  ‘That’s right. Richard died three years ago, but I come along to see him every week. I know how you feel my dear. It’s a heavy cross to bear.’

  Julia took a deep breath. She felt a little guilty that her tears weren’t really for Duncan, but her own self-pity. She didn’t feel like explaining this to Martha.

  ‘What a lovely wreath,’ Martha said, pointing to Duncan’s grave, ‘I heard about the memorial lunch; what a lovely thing to do for him.’

  Julia smiled and nodded. She looked down at the grave properly and noticed there was a pot of daffodils next to the wreath. She wondered if they had been there on Saturday. She had barely looked at the grave when the Jarl Squad had performed their ceremony. She took a deep breath and studied the grey marble headstone. Seeing her husband’s name etched in gold lettering did nothing to add to the reality of the situation.

  ‘When does it sink in that they’re never coming back?’ Julia said.

  ‘I still make Richard a cup of tea sometimes. When I’m tired and about to go up to bed, I find myself putting out two cups and saucers, and then I remember. I found it very hard at first to come and visit him. I couldn’t bear it; but I felt so guilty.’

  Julia turned to Martha and nodded slowly.

  ‘This is only the second time for me. The first time was on Saturday when my sons dragged me here for the ceremony. I’ve never told anyone that before.’

  ‘Your secret’s safe with me. I quite like coming here now, especially on a day like today when it’s quite sunny and quiet. I sit and tell Richard all the gossip,’ Martha said, smiling at Julia. ‘And now he can’t get up and walk out of the room when he’s fed up with me.’

  Julia laughed, and then blew her nose again.

  ‘The truth is though; I was upset today about something entirely different. I had applied to be a foster carer and I’ve just found out I got turned down. It’s a year to the day that Duncan died, and here I’m crying because I got rejected. I feel so stupid.’

  Martha nodded and looked away into the distance before she turned her attention back to Julia.

  ‘Forgive me for interfering, but that might be a blessing in disguise.’

  ‘How do you mean? I was looking forward to having a house full of children again,’ Julia replied.

  ‘Hmm, I can see why you would think that might be good for you, but actually, I think it might be better if you did something that took you out into the world, not kept you at home without any adults to talk to. One of the loneliest things about being widowed is the lack of adult company. I have a dog and a cat at home, and that’s it. My children and grandchildren visit at least once a week and that’s great, but it’s not enough to stop me from feeling alone.’

  Julia didn’t reply. She had never really considered the situation in that light before.

  ‘Anyway,’ Martha continued, ‘about a year after Richard died I decided I needed to get out more, so I started doing voluntary work. I work in a charity shop on Mondays; I help with the pensioner’s lunch club on Wednesdays; I go to a knitting group on
Thursdays and on Friday I play bridge. And during the winter I teach a night class in local history. I’m always busy now, and that helps. I think if I didn’t have any reason to leave the house I would be in a very sorry state by now.’

  ‘I never thought about it like that. I think you could be right.’

  Martha looked at her watch and sighed.

  ‘Anyway, I really must be off, I’m babysitting my grandson in a little while. It was lovely to chat to you, and remember, don’t be so hard on yourself. It takes time!’

  Julia watched Martha walk away. She remained on the bench for a little while longer, staring at the wreath on Duncan’s grave. She thought about what Martha had said and wondered if somehow Paula had done her a favour. She smiled at the idea that Paula would be truly pissed off if that was the case.

  She stood up and walked over to the grave and crouched down and put her hand on the gravestone, touching Duncan’s name.

  ‘What should I do now, Duncan? Give me a clue why don’t you?’ She stood up again and turned to look down at the sea. Seagulls circled overhead and she could hear waves crashing on the rocks on the other side of the cemetery wall.

  Julia gave Jamie a lift down to the airport that afternoon. They talked about her disappointment about being turned down as a foster carer. Jamie was angry on her behalf, but when she told him about her conversation with Martha, he concluded Martha might be right.

  ‘But now what should I do?’

  ‘If in doubt, do nothing.’ Jamie replied as they sat in the airport lounge, having a last cup of coffee together before his flight back to Edinburgh.

  ‘How’s that going to help?’ Julia relied.

  ‘What I mean is, it’s early days, so don’t rush into doing anything. Maybe you should just go back to work part-time while you think about it. That way you get contact with other people, but still have some time to yourself. I know you think fifty is ancient, but it really isn’t. Fifty is the new forty, and isn’t that when life begins again.’

 

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