“Hey, Leslie?” Sarah said.
“Yes.”
“You don’t know U2, do you?”
“No.”
“Okay, worth a try.”
On the way home Jim was still wearing his smug expression.
“I don’t know what you’re so smug about – that little surprise of yours could have gone very wrong.”
“But it didn’t.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“That’s what family’s for.”
“Is that what we are?”
“I like to think so,” he said.
“I’m pretty selfish.”
“What makes you think that?”
“I cut out John, Sarah and you because I thought I was doing you all a favour but the truth is I was just protecting myself.”
“How do you work that out?”
“Sarah’s going through what I went through. She faces the same challenges. I should have been there for her.”
“So you’ll be there for her now.”
“Yeah. I will.”
“Nora would be happy,” he said.
“Yes, I think she would,” she said, lying back, “and, Jim, let’s do as you said – let’s get away to the sun in September.”
“Ha ha! That’s the spirit!”
When Leslie went to bed that night she thought about Jane, Elle, Tom, Jim, John, Sarah, Claire and even Deborah. She had so many people in her life who cared and wanted to care. She no longer felt alone.
Chapter 13
Everybody’s Drunk
I’ve been biding my time I ain’t that gone
maybe one or two or three or four or five or six too many
but it eases my mind and loosens my tongue,
so come on, sister, won’t you take my hand,
be my Alice I’ll be Wonderland.
Jack L, Universe
September 2008
The plane was late, which was typical. Jane paced the airport floor from one end to the other, and as the arrivals area was about half a mile long Elle only spotted her every five minutes or so. Elle sat and read a magazine and drank a wheatgrass shot, hoping it would negate the damage she’d been doing to herself recently. She was on a binge and every other night she’d be found in a nightclub dancing on a table and her top was optional. She was living on a diet of champagne and morning fry-ups, and when Rose questioned her on her late comings and goings she merely replied that life was too short.
Jane appeared, asked the time and then she was gone. Elle flipped the page and there was a shot of Vincent and his bride. He was holding her tummy and she knew the woman was pregnant before she even read the caption because the bloody pose was so obvious. She wasn’t even showing and had just had her twelve-week scan. I hope she loses it. She turned the page. She started to read another article about being kind to feet but the interview with Vincent was calling to her.
Read me.
No. Go away.
You want to know what I’m doing and how happy I am.
I do not. I hope you get knocked down by a bus and dragged for a really long time.
You want me to confirm that I’m in a perfect happy relationship and that the reason we didn’t work was you and not me. I’m stable and you’re a lunatic. You need to read it. You need to understand that I’m so much better off without you.
“Fuck you, Vincent!” she screamed, to an airport full of strangers.
The woman beside her with two toddlers picked up three bags, hung them on a double buggy and, with a child holding on to each side of the buggy, scurried to a place far away from the vulgar mental case. Elle put her explosion down to excessive tiredness and promised herself that she would have a bath later and then an early night.
Minutes later Jane returned and flopped down beside her sister. “I think I’ve just walked about ten miles. Where the hell are they?”
They were more than an hour late and after her walk Jane was hungry. She turned to her sister to ask if she’d like to join her for a bit of lunch upstairs, then spied Martha arriving into the area. Martha spotted her immediately, waved wildly and bared that awful sinister Osmonds-on-acid smile.
“Oh, no,” Jane said.
“What?” Elle said.
“That woman, Irene’s mother.”
Elle looked around, saw her approaching and rubbed her hands together. “Oh, yeah, playtime.”
“Elle,” Jane warned, “play nice.”
“Absolutely,” Elle said, shaking her head to suggest she was planning on doing absolutely the opposite.
“Jane,” Martha said, and air-kissed her. “You look so refreshed after a couple of months without a teenager in the house.”
“Martha,” Jane said, refusing to respond to the redundant and annoying air-kiss or the barbed compliment. “This is my sister, Elle.”
Elle grinned and remained in her seat. “I’ve heard so much about you,” she said.
Martha sat in the seat opposite and removed her gloves. “All good, I hope.”
“Nope, all bad, I’m afraid,” Elle said, smiling.
“Well,” Martha said, “aren’t you hilarious?”
“I try,” Elle said. “So, Martha, how are things with the kid you were screwing? Back together yet or has he moved on to Betty White? I hear she’s a real goer.”
Martha got up and walked away without a word.
“You’re welcome!” Elle called after her, as a grin spread across Jane’s face.
“Who’s Betty White?” Jane asked.
“One of the Golden Girls.”
“I used to love The Golden Girls. Which one was Betty White?”
“Rose.”
“Ah, that’s right, a pleasant Rose. God, I wish she’d been our mother.”
Elle nudged her. “Jane.”
“Yeah.”
“Look.” Elle pointed to the arrivals gate and to her nephew, brown as a berry, his blond locks bleached white. He was waving.
Jane’s heart soared as she jumped to her feet and ran to him, managing to leap a suitcase in the process. They met at the barrier and he dropped his bags. They hugged and hugged and hugged.
“It’s good to be back, Mum.”
“Oh, God, I missed you!” she said, and her eyes were full and of course she was crying because she always cried.
Elle was next to give her nephew a hug. “You look good,” she said. “Better be careful or Irene’s mother will make a move.”
Kurt laughed and looked back at Irene, whose reunion with her mother was slightly tamer and cooler. Her mother air-kissed her and made her stand back so that she could look at her. Then she squeezed her for a second or so. Kurt turned to his mother and shook his head. “Poor Irene,” he said. “I’d hate to be going back to that.”
Irene ran over to Jane and Elle and hugged them both far more warmly than she had her own mother. “We had a ball – we’d do it again in the morning. Can you believe how well Kurt did in his exams? When we got our results we were sitting at a beach bar. Incredible. Can you believe he’s got medicine and I’m going to be a nurse? I just scraped by, thank God. Oh, Jane, this summer was the best time in our lives!”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Jane said.
“I have to go,” Irene said, and seemed a little sad.
“I understand,” Jane said. “Come for your dinner tomorrow night.”
“Great,” she said. “I’ll bring photos.” She kissed Kurt and ran off to join her mother, who was waiting by the door.
“Are you hungry?” Jane asked Kurt.
“I’d eat a scabby leg,” he said.
“I’ll take that as a yes, then. Did I tell you how proud I am?”
“About a million times, Mum.”
She put her arm around her son and together they walked to the airport restaurant with Elle in tow, pushing the trolley carrying his bags.
Dominic arrived at Jane’s just after six. He ran up the steps and Kurt was waiting by the door. They hugged and Dominic messe
d Kurt’s bleached curls. “Jesus, son, albinos have darker hair!”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Great to have you home.”
“Sorry about Bella,” Kurt said, as they walked into the kitchen.
“Never mind.” Dominic smiled at Jane. “Long time no see, stranger.”
She nodded. “Good to see you, Dominic.” She was hoping her heart wouldn’t flutter. She hadn’t seen him in just over two months. She had not missed him once and she had told herself categorically and in no uncertain terms that she was to stop loving him. She did feel a flutter – Damn you, Jane – and her pulse did race a little, and although this disappointed her she managed to work out in those few seconds that even if she was still attracted to Dominic she didn’t love him. She had been glad of the distance, she had enjoyed it, so she could live with a flutter now and then because they were only friends and that suited her just fine.
Jane cooked a family dinner to include Rose, although Elle had made her excuses because Leslie needed help with something she wasn’t at liberty to divulge. Rose had promised to be on her best behaviour around Dominic. “I’m not a child, Jane – you don’t have to monitor my behaviour.”
“Of course I do, Rose. You have the capacity to insult someone with a mere look. I just want this to be nice for Kurt.”
“And don’t you think I want it to be nice for Kurt? He is my grandson.”
“Fine, fine, but I’m warning you, do not bring up Bella.”
“Hmmm,” Rose said.
At dinner Kurt talked about the various islands of Greece he’d been to, he talked about Paris, Milan, Rome, Barcelona and Amsterdam, at which point he shared a little knowing grin with his dad.
“I saw that,” Jane said.
“What?” Kurt said innocently.
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
“What are you talking about?” Rose said.
“Nothing,” Jane said.
“Sex and drugs on every corner, Gran,” Kurt said.
“Well, do you hear that, Janey? Maybe you should get yourself to Amsterdam – God knows, you could do with something to lift both your mood and your skirt.”
“Rose!” Jane screamed in exasperation, but Kurt and Dominic were holding themselves, they found it so funny.
Rose grinned at her daughter, who mouthed, “You are dead, old woman.”
During dessert Kurt talked excitedly about doing medicine in Trinity. He couldn’t believe he’d got the scores necessary because study was so boring that mostly he’d just played computer games.
“Your mother was like that,” Rose said. “When Janey was seven she got one of those kids’ encyclopedias that were so popular in the eighties. She read it in a week and I swear you could ask that kid any question and she’d know the answer. Remarkable, really.”
“My God, Rose, that’s the first nice thing I’ve ever heard you say about Jane ever,” Dominic said.
“I stated a fact, Dominic, and anyway how’s your wife?”
“Rose!” Jane warned.
“She left me,” he said.
“Good for her,” Rose said. “I’d like to propose a toast to Bella – may she find herself a half-decent husband next time around!”
“That’s it! One more word from you and you’re going back to the basement,” Jane said.
Kurt leaned back on his chair. “I really missed this,” he said. “I love you, Gran.”
“I love you too, darling,” Rose said.
They clinked glasses and drank, and it was just like he’d never been away.
Leslie walked out of the dressing room, feeling monumentally self-conscious. She was wearing red swimming togs and a matching red flowing top picked out by Elle. She’d also selected a wide-brimmed white hat but Leslie had refused to wear it. “Well,” she said, gesturing to the togs and top, “can you see?”
“No, I can’t,” Elle said. “You look lovely. I told you, red is your colour.”
Leslie looked at herself in the mirror. The top had enough material to conceal that she had no breasts and instead she just looked flat-chested.
“Try it on in green,” Elle said.
“It will look the same,” Leslie argued.
“No, it will be a different colour and that changes the outfit utterly,” Elle said.
Leslie went back into the dressing room. Elle’s phone buzzed and it was a text from Dominic: Just had dinner in Janes. Feel like shit. What are we doing????? She put the phone back in her bag. Leslie appeared in the same outfit in green.
“Looks good,” Elle said. “Buy them both.”
“Really? I feel so exposed.”
“You’re going to be on a beach not at the opera. Buy the clothes, please.”
“Okay.” Leslie took one last look at herself and secretly she was pleased: without clothes her body was broken, but with clothes she looked quite good for her age. I can do this.
After they had spent another hour on Leslie’s holiday wardrobe they stopped off for coffee and a toasted sandwich in a coffee shop that Elle hadn’t been to since she was a student.
“It’s a bit grotty, isn’t it?” Leslie said.
“That’s character.”
Leslie sat into a bench, pushed the table towards Elle and fixed herself in the seat. “Since when has filth become character?” She pointed to a large cobweb in the corner.
“It’s a cobweb, Leslie, not a dangling bucket of shit.”
“And there goes my appetite.”
They were finishing their coffees when Elle confided what she was doing with Dominic.
“Two more coffees, please,” Leslie said to the waiter. “You are insane. Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know. I can’t help it. It makes me feel …”
“Feel what?” Leslie asked.
“It makes me feel, full stop.”
“Well, stop feeling because it will end in tears.”
“It was easy when Kurt was away, but now he’s back, Dominic is back in Jane’s life. When Kurt was away we could pretend it didn’t matter.”
“So stop.”
“So Jim’s all packed and ready for this sun holiday, is he?” Elle asked.
“Don’t change the subject.”
“Excited, I bet.”
“Stop what you’re doing,” Leslie said.
“I know, I know,” said Elle. “Stop what you’re doing with your nephew’s father, you hillbilly lunatic.”
“Well, that wasn’t exactly where I was going but close enough.”
Leslie was leaving for her sun holiday with Jim the next day and she was anxious about what she’d wear, how she’d look, how she’d feel, whether or not it was too soon and how they would get on. She had thought many times about pulling out but it was actually Deborah who managed to talk her around one day when they met in the hall.
“Why the face?” Deborah asked.
“I was born with it.”
“Oh, ha ha ha. What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m having second thoughts about going on holiday.”
Leslie got into the lift. Deborah followed her and pushed the button for their floor. “You’re going,” Deborah said.
“I’m scared,” said Leslie, “not to mention sore, tired and itchy.”
Deborah’s demeanour softened. “You’ve been through a lot. You deserve to have fun.”
“But will it be fun?”
“I have no idea,” Deborah said, “but it will definitely beat sitting in that apartment of yours and staring at four walls.”
Leslie sighed. “I don’t do that so much any more.”
“Not as much but you still do it.”
“I’ll go, then.”
“I think you should.”
“So you’ll still mind the cat?”
“Yes, I’ll mind the stupid cat.”
“Will you be nice to her and give her at least one hug a day?”
“I’ll be nice, as in I won’t kick her when I see her, but I will not hug her.”<
br />
“Will you let her rub against your leg?”
“Fine. I’ll let her rub against my leg.”
“Good,” Leslie said. “I’ll bring you back something special.”
“It better cost more than twenty euro.”
Leslie laughed and entered her apartment.
Jim picked her up and they drove to the long-term car park, then got a bus to the airport. Leslie checked her handbag for her passport and tickets so many times that Jim took them from her. They put their bags through and went straight to their gate where they had time for some lunch.
Leslie was extremely nervous and kept tapping her fingers on the table.
Jim placed his hand on hers. “Relax,” he said, “we’re going to have a great time.”
“I can’t relax,” she said. “I’ve just remembered I hate flying.”
Jim laughed at her and promised that if she got too nervous he’d share his stash of Valium.
“Why do you have Valium?”
“Oh, the doctor gave them to me after Imelda died.”
“That was more than ten years ago.”
“Yeah, but pills don’t go off, do they?”
“I think they do, Jim.”
“Oh.”
“Still, give me one anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay, but only one.”
“Fine,” she said.
He opened his bag and tapped a few Valium into his hand. She grabbed two and swallowed them without water. An hour later she floated onto the plane.
*
Jane spent the day with the party organizers. The tent had arrived and was being erected in the back garden. Rose had spent much of the morning shouting for the men to watch her various plants. The booze had arrived and the catering team had set up a good-sized bar. The dance floor had lights flashing around it and the DJ arrived good and early to sound-check. Dominic kept Kurt entertained for the day because although his belated eighteenth birthday party was no surprise Jane wanted everything to be perfect when he walked through the door. Irene arrived late afternoon to see if there was anything she could help with but Jane was pretty happy that everything was right on track and instead they enjoyed a coffee on the patio together because, thankfully, in September it had stopped raining. They talked about the party plans and Irene was so excited she broke into a clap every now and again. When they were all talked out on the party theme, Jane broached the subject of how Irene was getting on at home.
The One I Love Page 22