by Laura Kemp
Beautiful people, massive dance floors, the best DJs. Obviously, it’s all total turd, he thinks as he slides off the lilo for a dip before he swims to the edge of the pool.
There’s shaky white tiles, bent rays and music pumping beneath the surface. He comes up for air, its heat searing his lungs, and he laughs when he sees an umbrella poking out of the rim of his beer.
‘There you go, Midas.’
He springs himself up onto the side and offers Hugo a ‘salud’. The icy bubbles have a party all the way down his throat. He sparks up a fag knowing where he’s found himself is all surface, course it is.
But while he blows smoke rings into the bluest of skies, he realizes he’s at least slain a few of Mikey’s dragons. And found a happiness he had convinced himself would never be his. He’ll never tire of this. Never.
‘I’ve told you, lovely boy,’ he says to Hugo, ‘it’s not Midas. It’s Murphy.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
V
Roath, Cardiff
‘Mum, Dad, tea’s up,’ Vee called, placing a tray on the garden table – the new one from Homebase which her parents had finally settled on after weeks of price-checking and pondering.
‘Lovely,’ Dad sighed, creaking to his knees from where he was weeding the border. Then he helped Mum up with a playful pull, pretending with a groan that she was a dead weight.
‘Cheek!’ she said, flicking him with her pink floral glove. Vee watched as Dad laughed then held her tight, kissing her nose.
Their faces were glowing from hours out here. Under a beating July sun, they’d worked side by side since lunch; Vee had peered out at them from her bedroom window now and again when her eyes had needed a screen break from the task of working out her finances and her plans. Whether they were chatting or silent, they’d always known where the other was, in tune, in love. Just as they’d always been. As a kid she’d sneered at their obsession with the lawn: its cut and condition, colour and cultivation. If it had been up to her, she’d have paved it all or gone for Astroturf because it was so bloody high-maintenance. All of it was, the constant watering of pots and deadheading and all of that pointless repetitive shit. But now she got it: it was their relationship right there. They understood they had to invest in it to reap the benefits. And they were happy just to be together, that was all there was to it, not needing adventure to prop up their marriage. What they had was beautiful: they were so lucky to have this because it didn’t happen for everyone. It wasn’t going to be that way for her, she was accepting this now, relationships weren’t her thing, clearly. Instead she would find happiness elsewhere. It was time to leave, head back to her life, which had been on standby ever since she’d got here four months ago.
‘Lovely cuppa,’ Mum said, wiping beads of sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. ‘Look at the state of me!’ she said as Dad picked a blade of grass from her hair.
‘Another hour and I think I’ll open the bar, love,’ Dad said, slurping from his mug and sighing with pleasure.
‘Ooh yes, a nice cold glass of white for me. Will you have the same or a beer?’
‘A can of lager will do it for me, love. A quick sit then we’ll get on with it, finish the weeding.’
‘Yes, love,’ she said, joining him. ‘I’ll need a good soak in the bath after this.’
Their patter, their routine filled Vee with warmth: she decided now was the time to tell them.
‘I’m going, by the way,’ she said.
‘Where to? And what time will you be back?’ Mum said. ‘Because we could have a barbecue tonight, couldn’t we, Bob? It’s nice enough, I could do a salad if Victoria gets some burgers and what-have-you from the shop.’
‘Well, I didn’t mean I was popping out. But I can.’
‘A steak, I want, Victoria. Get me a nice juicy one.’ Dad rubbed his hands at the thought of it.
‘I’d like a bit of pork, myself. A nice chop.’
Vee rolled her eyes at them with amusement, savouring their patter, knowing how much she’d miss this. It was hard to believe she’d hated moving back but her parents had turned out to be the perfect remedy.
‘What, love?’
‘Mum, I meant I’m leaving. Not yet, got to save a bit of money and get my application in, but I’m going to be off.’
‘Application?’ Dad raised an eyebrow and Mum leant in.
‘To become a teacher. I don’t know where yet, maybe Manchester or somewhere.’
‘Well! That is something to celebrate!’ Mum said, getting up to give her a cuddle. ‘I’m so pleased for you!’
‘Fabulous, love!’ Dad held up his cup for a cheers.
‘You could at least look a bit gutted that I’m going!’ Vee joked. Sort of. Because as much as she needed her own space, it would’ve been nice to hear they’d miss her.
‘Of course we are! But we never thought you’d stay here, did we, Bob?’
‘No, never. You’re young yet. It’s right that you should go. Our Gavin, he’s different to you. Sensible and a homebody.’
‘But you… life’s too boring here for you!’
They might as well have said she was the unreliable, flighty sibling who had no direction. It crushed her a bit. And after all this, the being dumped when she’d been ready to settle down, then finding Kate and Murphy…
‘Love? What’s up?’ Mum was at her side, digging out a tissue from her bra, holding it to her as Vee found herself crying.
‘I tried, Mum, I really did.’
‘You’ve got a life to lead, I’m sure you’ll find what you want to do.’
‘But I have. The teaching. That’s what I want to do.’
Dad and Mum swapped knowing glances.
‘What?’ Vee said, before realizing they were doubting her. ‘You don’t think I’m going to do it, do you?’
‘It’s not that, love,’ Mum said, visibly squirming.
‘What your mother means is that you have lots of ideas, always have done, and you get excited by them then—’
‘Oh my God. You think I’m a waster. A loser.’
‘No, no, no,’ they chorused.
‘It’s just that you were going to do this before, weren’t you, love? And you’re working in a deli and, well, you haven’t done anything recently about working with kids, you know, volunteering, getting some work experience…’
Vee’s jaw was on her bloody lap. ‘You don’t think I’m capable of doing anything decent in my life, do you?’
‘It isn’t that, Victoria,’ Mum said, looking earnest now. ‘It’s just that you haven’t found your calling yet. It’s hard for women your age these days—’
Vee shut her eyes - she knew what was coming. The whole career, babies, mortgage thing.
‘It wasn’t like that in my day. We met, fell in love, got married, had you two. There weren’t the choices you have.’
A surge of something, was it a scream, came from deep within. She felt the throb of her heart and a rising pressure in her throat: something was coming. ‘I wish I didn’t have all these choices,’ she said, not knowing where this was going, ‘I wish I had someone to keep me here. I had it. For a few weeks and then…’
‘Oh, love, talk to me. Who was it? Was it that Pierre? I thought you might have had a thing for him.’
‘Pierre? No!’ she baulked, before whispering ‘Murphy’ because it felt stupid and childish.
‘Michael?’ Mum said, astonished. ‘Michael Murphy?’
‘I better get the wine now, love,’ Dad said, getting up and patting Vee on her shoulder as she began to sob.
‘Yes,’ she said, in a small voice because she was embarrassed about it all. A mad fortnight that had torn her apart – of not falling in love because she had always loved him but of finally realizing it with him. Cruel, it was. She had to move on.
‘Why didn’t you say?’
‘Because I suppose it was too good to be true. Another week or so, I’d have told you. But it was so surprising. Like, we clicked, Mum
. We’ve always clicked, but there was more. It was like seeing you and Dad together.’ Once she had pitied their relationship, labelling it as sad and boring, but my God, she knew that what they had was all she wanted.
‘Does he know all this?’
‘Yes but it doesn’t matter.’ As her dad appeared with wine and glasses and left them to their ‘girl’ talk’ so he could get some meat for the barbie, she explained the whole story, of their first kiss to finding out he’d had a fling with Kate and they’d had a child. Then she waited for Mum to tell her, yes, now she understood why Vee had to leave to start over. It was the only thing to do. She couldn’t be friends again with Kate, not after all the deceit and lies. And Murphy, if she saw him again, it’d finish her off.
‘You know, people make mistakes, Victoria. Ones that they can spend the rest of their lives regretting…’
‘Oh God, please don’t tell me that you had a wild affair with the postman when Dad was once away at a conference or that you caught him in one of your dresses and make-up. I’ve had enough of people revealing their secrets.’
‘There’s no skeletons here,’ she said. ‘Your dad would never fit into my dresses anyway. He’s going on twelve stone! I’m still the weight I was on our wedding day, eight stone twelve!’
‘So how come you’re so forgiving? How come you’ve always been good at listening and not judging?’
‘Because I believe people are human. I have nothing that you’d call “exciting” that’s happened to me. I’ve been very fortunate. Your father’s the same. But that doesn’t mean I can’t empathize with what people go through. All I know about, and I thank my lucky stars, is being happy. Making the most of what we have. Enjoying the little things in life. Love and hope. That’s why I think you should forgive them both, Katherine and Michael. Because you were a different person when you got back in touch with them. You were rock bottom and then you met up with them and you seemed happy. I never saw you like that with Jez. I never said because who wants to hear that? I just hoped you’d realize he wasn’t right for you. It happened, and it broke your heart, but you wouldn’t go back to your life in Brighton, would you?’
Vee needed no time to consider the question. The thought of being back with him in his flaky circle, wanting to please him, made her shudder.
‘No. Definitely not.’
‘Do you know something? I always thought you and Michael had a spark. And I wondered if one day your paths would cross again. Because he’s a rough diamond, that one.’
‘Did you?’
Mum nodded. ‘Life isn’t a bed of roses, Victoria,’ she said, pointing at her garden, ‘so you’ve got to hold onto the things and the people who make you happy. Who, if you’ll excuse my French because this wine has gone straight to my head, will hold up an umbrella if the shit hits the fan.’
‘Mum!’ She’d never heard her swear before – and it brought Vee out in a smile.
‘There you go, I’m not such a stick-in-the-mud after all, am I? Now I’m going in to change. Have a quick bath. Radox, I need. Put something clean on. You have a think.’
As her mum groaned up to standing, Vee turned her face to the sun to catch the last rays before it descended behind next door’s conservatory. Mum’s talk had really rung some bells. She had found her happy with Murphy and she was determined to become a teacher. They were the facts.
It hadn’t been a fling with Murphy. Her desire to go to training college wasn't on a whim. She had invested in herself and she was more settled, more self-determining. More grown up. Hold onto your happy and accept shit happens, that is what Mum had said. Vee found herself repeating it over and over to herself as the early evening began to sigh.
And then she worked it out – if she applied to study in London, then maybe she could have both: she loved Murphy and Murphy loved her.
Her friendship with Kate though, she didn’t know if that could be saved.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
K
Penllyn, near Cowbridge
Two weeks to go and her wedding planning was utter chaos.
Kate was absolutely loving it. With her legs tucked beneath her on their slouchy couch, she took a swig of rosé and surveyed the packages which were scattered around the lounge. All deliveries ordered online, either in her lunch hour or after supper, everything at the last minute. In there somewhere was a bow tie for Boris, personalized packages of butterfly and bee-attracting seeds as guests’ favours, a lovebird wedding cake topper and gold table confetti.
It was the opposite of the starchy, regimented checklist which had been enforced upon her by her mother. In Kate’s mind, if it was important, she’d think of it – if it wasn’t, then to hell with it.
Her one concession to admin was a file on her laptop marked ‘matrimonials’ which listed what she’d bought and what she needed to get. Other than that it was fly by the seat of her pants.
‘Where are we at then?’ Jack said, walking in and plonking himself down next to her. As he peered at her scribbly list, she revelled in his freckles and the tips of his blond hair which were bleached white by the sun.
‘Ceremony. Check.’
‘Two p.m. on the thirtieth. Has there never been a more romantic time?’
‘Who needs a Friday night in Paris when you can have a Thursday in Brighton?’ she smiled. ‘Licence and registrar. Check. Flowers, pink fizz and afternoon tea. Check, check, check.’
‘Shame about the suite at the swanky hotel up the road being out of our league. Not to mention a honeymoon itself…’ Jack’s face looked charmingly sad at his perception that he’d ‘failed’ her.
‘Who cares where we spend our first night as Mr and Mrs? I’d be prepared to sleep in a tent, Jack, rather than go through with the wrong wedding. As for two weeks away somewhere hot and sunny, well, we’ll do it one day. Hey, what are you wearing by the way?’
Jack snorted with laughter. ‘If only your mother could hear us!’
‘I know!’
‘I’m wearing clothes. That’s as far as I’ve got. You?’
Kate had thought deeply about The Dress. Originally she was going to put it straight up for sale on eBay, fearing it would remind her of the past. But when she’d gone for her final fitting, she’d seen it with new eyes. Without the veil, which she’d ditched because she didn’t fear being looked at anymore, and her hair loose, she could make it appear more casual without losing its elegance. There was even a hint of cleavage because she’d put on a bit of weight – she wasn’t working out as much anymore; there was no need when she had nothing to run from.
‘Well… I’m sticking to the one I chose for The Wedding of the Year.’
‘Really?’ Jack widened his eyes in alarm.
‘It’s not because of mum! Seriously! Well, it is but… look, we’ve ruined everything in her eyes right, so if she comes I want to show her I love her despite everything. And it’s the only gesture I can think of that’ll say that. It is gorgeous too.’
‘Fair enough. Nice touch, actually,’ he said.
‘But…’
‘Aha! I like the sound of this…’
‘I’m going to make it more “me”.’
‘In what way? Cover it in dog hair?’
‘Wait and see!’
‘Last thing then, what about guests?’ Jack winced as he said it because this was the only fly in the ointment.
Kate jumped up because incredibly she’d forgotten to tell him the news. To think a few months ago she would’ve been frothing at the mouth with anxiety. Now she felt relaxed.
‘Oh, you’ll never guess! Dad is going to give me away! He called in today at work!’
Mum was apparently not coming: she still bellowed ‘Nothing to say, Katherine’ when Kate rang. But dad, oh dad, the one she’d thought of as weak and uninterested, had decided he couldn’t and wouldn’t miss one of the happiest days of his youngest daughter’s life. And he’d told her over lunch that he hadn’t given up persuading her mother yet.
�
�Oh, Kate! That’s brilliant!’
‘It so is!’
‘Which reminds me… Pierre has asked if he can have a plus one!’
‘Nooo! Bea?’
‘The very same. Love is in the air! Last thing,’ Jack said, ‘and I know I’ve said it before so don’t bite my head off—’
Her tummy tumbling, Kate knew instantly what he was going to say. ‘Vee?’
‘Yup.’
‘We’ve been through this.’ Over and over, in fact. ‘She wouldn’t come even if I begged her. What is the point in asking?’
‘Did you ever think you’d be where you are now? Like this? Happy?’
Kate squashed her face into her hands. He was right. She uncovered her eyes and looked at him.
‘Never, Jack.’
‘Things change. The impossible can happen. So perhaps she will come. You won’t know unless you ask her. You’ve grown up, everyone makes mistakes, we just have to learn from them. It’s time to offer an olive branch and try to build bridges. You’ve apologized for the past. Ask her and it will show that she can be in your future if she wants to be.’
And she really did want her around. It was just a question if Vee could forgive her.
Chapter Thirty
M
Llanedeyrn, Cardiff
‘Dad?’ Murphy’s heart raced as he entered his father’s flat. Mail on the floor. There was silence. Not even the racing was on.
‘Dad?’ Again nothing, so he dashed around the place, looking for him, fearing he’d collapsed somewhere, oh no, not like this, not when he was just starting to improve and be independent…
But then it struck him, it was spotless. The bed was made, newspapers were in the recycling bin, the kitchen was clean and no bottles. No smell of piss or booze. And there was a note.