by Jane Taylor
‘So… what’s going on with you and Robbie?’
I thought we had been careful so Alison’s question took me by surprise. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘See these two things?’ She pointed her paintbrush in the general direction of her face. ‘They are eyes… I’ve used them.’
‘Oh.’
‘So when were you going to tell me?’ she asked, while I squirmed under her reproachful gaze.
‘Well it’s early days yet…’ I laughed, trying to make light of the situation.
‘Bullshit!’
‘Pardon?’
‘You didn’t want me to know – that’s why you’ve been sneaking around – be honest here, if nothing else.’
‘I…’
‘You knew exactly what I’d say and you didn’t want to hear it. Are you totally stupid, Katie? You know what happened last time, how hurt you were,’ she held up her hand, as I opened my mouth to protest again. ‘Don’t pretend otherwise. I know you and you are not the type of person that can deal with a man like Robbie.’
That smarted. I threw down my paintbrush and grabbed a rag to wipe my hands.
‘Really? Remind me again just what gives you the right to lecture me on who I can or cannot see? Have you or have you not bleated on forever about me getting a man?’ I replied, throwing the rag on the floor. Alison followed suit with her brush, splashing paint over her jeans.
‘But I didn’t mean Robbie! Look, Katie, I am your oldest friend, I love you and Robbie to bits but you two are not right for each other. Trust me on this, you both have…’ Alison stopped abruptly.
‘What?’
‘Forget it, Katie.’
‘No come on… you started this, what have we both got?’
‘I’m not doing this Katie, I’m going home,’ Alison replied, as she picked up her bag and walked towards the door.
‘What have we both got, Alison?’ I shouted to her back.
She spun on her heel and I don’t think I had ever seen her so angry. ‘Issues… great big fat issues. Satisfied now?’
‘Oh, and who hasn’t? Except maybe you, with your perfect life, and your perfect husband. It must be fantastic to sit up there on your pedestal in judgment of us lesser mortals. Do you feel superior? Well from now on keep your opinions to yourself.’
When she had gone, I sat on an upturned bucket and wondered how that had just happened. During all the years of our friendship, we had never fallen out like that. I was physically shaking. I’d said some nasty things and the stupid thing was, I hadn’t meant any of them. Yes, I was annoyed, but I knew deep down Alison was just being what she had always been – my friend. She was worried for me and I knew my anger stemmed from that same worry for myself.
You see, every day in the weeks we had been together, I wondered if that was the day it would all come tumbling down around my ears. I worried that I was too happy. Robbie and I got on so well, it almost seemed too good to be true. Being the contrary cow that I am, I couldn’t just enjoy the moment, I was preparing for the time when it all came to an end. That’s why I was so angry with Alison. She was voicing my fears, while I, given a sniff of happiness, was ignoring them.
After a sleepless night, I was up early and on my way to see Alison. I couldn’t leave things the way they were, I had to apologise. I was reversing my car down the drive when she pulled in behind me. We both got out and stared at each other for a moment.
‘I was on my way to see you,’ I said at last.
‘Oh, Katie, I’m so sorry, I had no right to say those things…’
‘No, nor me either, I couldn’t sleep last night… I wanted to ring you,’
‘Oh, come here,’ Alison said, as she pulled me in for a hug. ‘What are we like, squabbling like a pair of schoolgirls.’
Over tea and muffins, which Alison had brought, she told me how Mark had torn her off a strip the previous evening.
‘The trouble is, we’ve been friends for so long, you’re more like a sister to me,' she explained.
With the crisis over and studiously avoiding any mention of my relationship with Robbie, we continued working hard to get the shop open. We decided on the first of December in order to catch the Christmas trade. I worked on the financial side, dealing with the utility companies, getting bank accounts opened and lines of credit in place with the suppliers Alison had found. As well as flowers, we decided to include gifts, cards and trinkets in our stock. Mark, a computer whiz, designed a website and then finally, after an all hands on deck flurry of activity, we were open for business.
‘Can you believe it? We own a business,’ said Alison after our first week. ‘People are actually coming in here to buy things from us.’
‘Well,’ I reminded her, ‘that was rather the point.’ Alison rolled her eyes, as she stuffed the takings into a bag to deposit in the bank’s night safe on the way home.
‘Duh! I know that…I suppose I’m just a little in awe of what we’ve achieved.’
I put my hand round her shoulder and squeezed. ‘I’m only kidding, I know what you mean. I was terrified we wouldn’t get a single customer on the first day.
The argument was long forgotten and when Alison issued an invitation to Christmas lunch, she included Robbie. Although he and I now spent nearly every night together; either at his house or mine, I felt peculiar about sleeping with him once Sam came home for the festive period. Sam was eighteen now and no doubt a man of the world, but you know how it is… kids really don’t want to be confronted by their parent’s sex life, and I had a feeling all three of us would feel uncomfortable. Robbie understood and we agreed to stay in our own homes.
I was amazed at the changes in Sam when I picked him up from the train station. Someone had stolen my boy over the previous three months and replaced him with a grown up version. He was at least three inches taller and was now filling out into his full potential. His boyish face showed signs of the chiselled features waiting to appear to dazzle the unsuspecting opposite sex. With his blond good looks, I suspected many a lovelorn female in the offing. My god, I loved my boys so much.
Christmas morning found us both leaning over the phone sharing a loudspeaker call with Toby.
‘You should see the shop Tobe, they’ve made a great job of it,’ Sam was saying.
‘A shop and a man, Mum… what’s happening to you?’ Toby laughed. ‘Seriously though,’ he continued, ‘it’s about time…and with Robbie too, it certainly took you two long enough.’
‘I like to pace myself,’ I kidded.
‘Well, so long as you’re happy…’
‘I am…’ I admitted. And I was, I had finally put my fears behind me and now couldn’t imagine my life without Robbie in it.
‘I love you, Mum.’
‘I love you too, sweetheart.’
‘Lurve ya, bro,’ Sam piped up.
‘Hey, you too man!’ Toby replied, and then they both laughed until Toby remembered something.
‘Oh, damn, sorry Mum, I meant to say thanks for the dosh.’
‘Well, you know how I hate giving money as a present, but I couldn’t think what else to do.’
‘No honestly, it’s always good to have extra spends, Dad and Ethan sent me some too.’
‘And thank you for the beautiful scarf.’ He had sent a surprisingly well-wrapped, silk scarf he had picked up on his travels.
‘You like it?’
‘I love it, it’s beautiful… I’m going to wear it today.’
We finished the call a while later and headed off to Alison’s in Sam’s Christmas present. He had passed his driving test the month before and I had decided to surprise him with a car. It was second hand, but Robbie had helped me to choose it, so I was reasonably sure it would provide a few years of good service. Sam was beside himself with excitement when he found it after I had sent him out to the garage for logs first thing. He had been chomping at the bit to drive it all morning.
Three days after Christmas, Robbie and I were sitting in his kitchen
after eating an Indian meal. Sam had left earlier in the day in order to spend New Year with his friends.
Robbie was taking a call from his sister, Julie, and by the sound of it, agreeing to go to Cornwall.
‘OK, I’ll ask her, hang on a minute.’ He placed a hand over the receiver and turned to me. ‘Seeing as I missed the usual family Christmas – which now seems to have been a crime – Julie wants us to go down there for New Year. What do you think?’
‘Both of us?’ Robbie nodded.
Good grief, Robbie wanted me to meet his family? ‘Umm…well, if you’re OK with that, then fine, I’d love to go.’
This was a huge surprise to me. What did it mean? Was it in any way significant? I was still thinking about it when Robbie hung up.
‘You know, you’d swear I’d killed a puppy instead of just missing one Christmas,’ Robbie said, as he started clearing the dishes from the table.
‘Oh dear, are they blaming me?’ I asked, while taking the rinsed plates from him and placing them in the dishwasher. It had become our usual ritual, which we did automatically. We seemed to have morphed into one of those couples that instinctively knew what the other was thinking.
‘Nah, but they are intrigued to meet the woman who kept me here. That’s the first family Christmas I’ve missed in twenty years,’ he replied, with a devilish grin.
‘Robbie… don’t wind me up, I’ll be nervous enough as it is.’
Right, listen up, dear friends. I have pinpointed this trip as the exact point in time where I made the mother of all mistakes. If you get the urge to feel sorry for me… please don’t, it was all my own, damned fault. I was merrily putting the cart before the horse, blithely writing my own script without giving a thought to my leading man, who it turned out, was actually reading a different play entirely. The reality of that hit me with the same force as a sucker punch to the solar plexus and I never saw it coming.
Chapter Nineteen
I’m not going to waste your time with a description of what was, for the most part, a boring drive to St Austell. Well, there were highlights like when Robbie would reach across for my hand and hold it on his knee as he drove. It’s pretty pathetic for that to be a highlight, but all these things meant something to me. Shared intimacies were a fundamental part of a relationship, as far as I was concerned.
Robbie’s parents lived in a small village about five miles south of St Austell, but his sister, Julie, with whom we were staying, lived in a large town house right in the centre. We had to park on the road outside and climb up three flights of stone steps to get to the path in front of the house. Julie, presumably watching for our arrival, was now standing at the door waiting for us.
‘You’re here at last… how was the journey?’ she asked, as she enveloped Robbie in a sisterly hug.
‘Oh, fine most of the way, bit of a hold up at Birmingham, but we made good time,’ Robbie replied, hugging her back. Then they both turned to me. As Robbie made the introductions, I noticed friendly curiosity reflected in Julie’s eyes, which incidentally, were the exact same golden brown as her brother’s.
‘Well,’ she said, linking her arm to mine and taking me inside. ‘You are very welcome, we’ve been dying to meet you.’ I turned around to glance at Robbie and was rewarded with an encouraging wink.
‘David? David, where are you… they’re here.’ Julie was calling from our position in the spacious hall of what looked like a beautiful home. The next minute a jumble of people and two black Labradors converged on us from various doors on either side.
‘Uncle Robbie!’ A young girl of about six shouted, as she launched herself at Robbie. He held onto the wriggling bundle of chestnut curls and swung her round.
‘Did you bring me a present?’ she asked, displaying a pair of irresistible dimples, once he had set her back on the floor.
‘Poppy! Where are your manners?’ said another woman, who I presumed to be Robbie’s second sister, Pamela. ‘Sorry, Robbie,’ she smiled and kissed his cheek.
Twenty minutes later, with a happy Poppy playing with her new Barbie Princess, I had met everyone present. David was Julie’s husband and they had the two teenage boys, Robert and Justin, I tried to remember. Pamela was married to Geoffrey and they were Poppy’s parents.
Over a noisy lunch, I learned Geoffrey was an inspector in the police force and David was the local GP. Julie and he had met when she had been working in the same hospital some years previously. When I enquired as to whether she had been a nurse there, I almost choked on my bread roll when she revealed she was a psychiatrist.
‘Oh, Robbie never said,’ I replied.
Julie laughed. ‘There’s a very good reason for that…’
‘Yes,’ Robbie interrupted. ‘As soon as people find out, they start trying to convince her they are completely normal, which makes them seem like complete nutters.’
Everyone laughed, including myself, but I was silently vowing to avoid close scrutiny if at all possible – not that I thought there was anything wrong with me, of course – no, it’s just that if there was, I’d prefer Julie not to know.
‘I can’t believe you never told me your sister is a psychiatrist,’ I told Robbie later that evening. We were in the guest room at the top of the three-story house. As with everything else in the home, it was a lovely room. But for me, the magnificent view over the town’s rooftops and then still further, the sea, was the most beautiful part.
‘Is it bothering you?’ he asked.
‘No, not really… but I do find myself wondering if I’m being analysed,’ I laughed.
‘Well, you’re not. If Julie started analysing everyone she met she would be a nervous wreck. She’s done the job for a lot of years and knows how to leave it in the office.’
‘OK,’ I said, from my position at the window. Robbie came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I leaned back into the solid wall of his chest.
‘You know you worry too much about what people think,’ he said, resting his chin on the top of my head.
‘Do I?’
‘Mmm…look how worried you were about coming here, and they all love you.’
‘They may just be being polite.’
‘They might… but I don’t think so. Anyway, it’s my opinion that counts.’
‘Oh really… is that so? So tell me – what is your opinion?’ It was a leading question and I shocked myself by asking it. I held my breath waiting for his answer.
The slight pause before Robbie spoke, was enough to illicit the first twang of embarrassment. Jesus, I thought, me and my big mouth…again.
‘I think…’
‘Yes?’ I asked, without turning around.
‘You are fishing for compliments,’ he laughed, as I let out a breath that was a mix of both disappointment and relief.
‘Anyway,’ he said, whacking my bottom with the back of his hand. ‘Come on, it’s time we got changed. You have yet to have the pleasure of meeting Granny Collins and that…trust me on this…is not to be missed.’
That was neatly done, I thought. I had to silently congratulate Robbie’s powers of distraction as I dressed for the party, which by the sound of it was already starting. I tucked the slightly bereft feeling our conversation had left to the back of my mind to examine later.
Granny Collins, the diminutive matriarch of the family, who had arrived with Robbie’s parents, was ensconced in an armchair in the lounge, receiving hugs and kisses from all in her vicinity. Robbie had me by the hand as we crossed the room to her.
‘Granny… how are you?’ Granny Collins almost disappeared beneath the hulking body of her grandson as he kneeled to hug her. It struck me how demonstrative the family was. As you know, it wasn’t something I had grown up with and I found it a tad overpowering. Don’t get me wrong, of course I hugged and kissed my boys, especially when they were younger, but that and the odd hug with Alison and her mother was about it.
I returned my attention to Robbie, and had to stifle a grin, as I watched a
six-feet-four-inch man get a sound telling off from a tiny woman with more wrinkles than a raisin.
‘I don’t know how many I’ve got left,’ she admonished now.
‘Rubbish Granny…you’ll out live us all,’ he laughed.
‘So where is this girl of yours, why haven’t I met her yet?’
Robbie turned to me and I knelt down beside him.
‘She’s right here...this is Katie, Granny.’
‘How do you do, Mrs Collins?’ I said, holding out my hand, into which she placed her tiny gnarled fingers. As soon as she let go she picked up her folded glasses and peered through them.
‘Very pleased to meet you too, dear, but it’s a while since you were a girl, isn’t it? Still, you seem to be wearing well.’
I was astonished by her candour, which was delivered with such aplomb, it was impossible to be offended. Robbie cocked an eyebrow and grinned at me as if to say, “I told you so.”
We were rescued by Helena, Robbie’s mother, who was wearing a pained expression.
‘I’m so sorry, I’m afraid my mother-in-law has reached an age where she feels she can say what she likes… and frequently does!’
‘Mum…hello.’ This was followed by another hugging session. ‘I did try to warn her,’ Robbie laughed.
‘So you are Katie.’ I didn’t get a chance to reply before she turned to scan the now crowded room.
‘Bob… here,’ she waved. Bob, who was obviously Robbie’s father ambled over, good naturedly greeting people as he came.
‘Hello, son,’ he said, as he slapped Robbie on the back.
‘Mum, Dad, this is Katie Roberts.’ I couldn’t be sure but I could almost imagine I heard a note of pride in his voice as I was introduced. A warm feeling settled in my belly.
‘We were so pleased when Robbie said he was bringing you… weren’t we Bob?’
‘Yes indeed. I must say, I can see why Robbie preferred Nottinghamshire this Christmas.’ Bob’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he said this. So that’s where Robbie got his wicked sense of humour, I thought.
Later, after the guests had left, the whole family sat in the lounge for a nightcap. As often happens at New Year, they were reminiscing about years past and listening to their gentle teasing, I began to feel a little out of things. As if sensing this, Robbie who was sitting on the floor, with his back propped up against the arm of his mother’s chair, began regaling his family about my soot-covered fight with the chimney. He could hardly tell it without laughing and the whole family joined in as he finished the slightly (in my opinion) exaggerated tale.