Five Unforgivable Things

by Vivien Brown

  ‘Checkmate!’ Ollie had screamed excitedly earlier that evening as he had beaten Trevor, fair and square, for the first time ever, and I don’t think I had ever seen my son look so happy.

  I bent to pick up one of the pieces, a pawn, that must have slipped down when Trevor was tidying the game away, and laid it carefully on the windowsill ready for the next game, as I reached for the first shirt from the top of the ironing pile. Maybe that was what I needed. Not chess, but an interest of my own, a hobby, something to get me away from all the domestic stuff once in a while. Something that could make me feel the way Ollie felt in that moment of triumph. I was just toying with the idea of taking up badminton and wondering if Caroline King might consider being my doubles partner when I heard the key in the front door and the sound of footsteps in the hall.

  ‘Dan? Where have you been? Your dinner’s …’

  But I didn’t get to finish the sentence. My mouth had stopped moving and fallen open like it was hanging on a loose hinge.

  Dan was standing very still in the open doorway, holding the hand of a small girl in crumpled pink pyjamas. She stared up at me through wet, sleepy eyes, her tiny hands hanging on so tightly to a tatty floppy-eared rabbit that it looked like her life might depend on it.

  Dan’s face was deathly pale. His voice, when it came, wavered and almost broke. ‘Kate,’ he said, holding my gaze with his own, as he bent down to wrap his arm tightly around the child’s shoulders. ‘This is Jenny …’

  Chapter 42

  Natalie, 2017

  Natalie shivered as she sat up in bed, rubbed her eyes and tried to focus on the glass of buck’s fizz Beth was holding out to her. She loved having her own little annexe here at the side of the house, but like any ex-garage, no matter how well carpeted and how many radiators were installed, it was still not the warmest of rooms at this time of year. She pulled the duvet tightly around her shoulders and peered at the clock. Not quite eight, and a bit early for booze.

  ‘Happy wedding day!’ Jenny shouted, bouncing in with a tray of warm croissants fresh from the microwave and a pile of cards she’d been picking up off the doormat for days and hiding until today.

  Natalie sidled across the bed to make room for her sisters to sit, the tray immediately occupying the centre of the space she had left. ‘Thank you,’ she said, taking a sip of the cold drink and giggling as the bubbles hit the back of her throat. ‘Although a trip to the loo wouldn’t go amiss before I get too into the celebrations. And I need to brush my teeth.’

  ‘Never too early to get started on the bubbly,’ Beth said, taking the glass back temporarily while Natalie eased herself into her chair and wheeled away into the en-suite.

  ‘If you say so. But I’m taking it slowly. I refuse to get drunk,’ Natalie called through the partially open door, her mouth full of toothpaste, before eventually rolling back into her bedroom, still drying her hands on a towel. ‘At least until after the ceremony.’

  ‘Spoilsport!’

  ‘Look, this is my day. You two just remember that. And what I want, I get. It’s the law!’

  ‘Yes, Ma’am.’ Beth pushed the glass back into Natalie’s hand. ‘And what you want now is a drink, right?’

  Natalie took another sip and gave in. ‘So long as I get at least two of those croissants to help soak up the alcohol.’

  ‘Alcohol? There’s hardly any in this stuff. It’s nearly all orange juice. Nat, you are such a lightweight!’

  ‘Well, I just hope Phil agrees with you when he has to carry me over the threshold.’

  ‘No problem. He’s an old hand at carrying you about. He could do it in his sleep, that one.’ Jenny picked up a croissant and started dropping flaky crumbs all over the duvet as soon as she bit into it. ‘Mmm, these are good. Come on, Nat, tuck in. You have a busy day ahead of you. Can’t have you fainting from hunger, can we? So, what’s first? Open your cards? Hair, make-up, flowers …?’

  ‘No cards until Phil and I can open them together. And the flowers aren’t being delivered until … oh, I can’t remember. Let me just find my list.’ Natalie reached for her bag and pulled out the trusty notebook that had hardly left her side for months.

  ‘Nat! Can’t you ever just be a teeny bit spontaneous?’ Beth was already running Natalie’s hair through her fingers and holding strands of it up towards the light. ‘Sit back and relax and let us take over for once. It’s the last time we’ll all be here like this, living under the same roof. We want to pamper you.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘No buts, Nat. Come on, eat up and get up, then let’s get this special day started, shall we?’

  ***

  ‘I knew we shouldn’t have booked a two o’clock wedding!’ Natalie looked at her new diamante watch and shook her head. ‘My hair’s done, the flowers are here, everything’s checked and double checked and there’s still two hours to go. What are we supposed to do now?’

  ‘Well, we could have some early lunch. It’ll be a while until the meal gets served up, what with the photos and everything, and I don’t fancy having a rumbling tummy in church.’

  ‘Beth, I can’t possibly eat any lunch. I’m still full of croissants, and my tummy’s so fluttery with about a thousand butterflies dancing around inside it that I can’t even think about food.’

  ‘Well, I bloody can! How about you, Jen? Toasted sandwich, extra cheese?’

  ‘Sounds good to me.’

  ‘You two go. Give me a few minutes on my own so I can have a bit of a rest. I need to conserve my energy for later.’

  ‘Woo hoo! Nat’s talking dirty,’ Beth screeched. A couple of glasses of bucks fizz and she was already getting silly. ‘Saving herself for the excesses of the wedding night!’

  ‘Beth! You know that’s not what I meant. Go on. Go and stuff your faces, but don’t come moaning to me when you can’t do the zips up on your bridesmaids’ dresses! Try and get Mum to sit down and eat something too, will you? I expect she could do with calming down a bit. She was replacing the pins in the buttonhole flowers with safety pins from her sewing box last time I looked, just in case someone pricked their finger. I think she’s got this wedding confused with something out of Sleeping Beauty.’

  ‘Will do!’

  Natalie looked at her watch again. ‘God, I do hate all this hanging around. I just want to get ready and get on with it now. As soon as Ollie arrives, we can all get dressed and get out of here. The bells will be ringing, and people will be milling about in their posh hats, and the sun’s out for a change … and I don’t want to miss any of it. Not one single second. And my gorgeous groom, of course. I can’t wait to see how he looks. I do love a man in a suit.’

  ‘There should be a fair few of those around today, so mind you pick the right one! But, honestly, Nat, we’ll go as soon as we can, once the cars turn up. I don’t fancy walking to the church. Not in those new heels! And we can’t get there too early, can we? Not before they’ve all gone inside and Phil’s stewed for a bit, wondering if you’re going to turn up. Brides are supposed to be late, not early. It’s tradition. And they do say patience is a virtue.’ Beth ran her hand over the back of her sister’s hair and gave it another squirt of hairspray. ‘And, anyway, I might just want to do a few final tweaks here before we go. I’m not totally happy with this curl …’

  ‘Go! Out! The pair of you. My hair looks fine. And bring me a cup of tea when you come back, will you? I probably won’t get another one all day.’

  ‘Tea? When there’s a bottle of champers on ice in the kitchen? The condemned woman drank a last cup of hot sweet tea before going off to meet her doom …’

  ‘Groom! Not doom! And mock as much as you like, but it’s my day, and if tea makes me happy, tea I shall have.’

  ‘Fine. All the more booze for us then! But don’t you go lying down on your bed while we’re gone. If you mess up your hair …’

  Natalie smiled. ‘I wouldn’t dare.’

  It was blissfully quiet after they had left. Time to think, to breathe
, to be herself for a little while before the ring was slipped onto her finger and she became someone else. A wife. A real grown-up. She rolled over to the mirror and took a good look at herself. Still in her dressing gown, but with full make-up on and her hair in the most fancy style she had ever had, she made for a strange looking figure, like two halves stuck badly together, one on top of the other, a mixture of her most glamorous and her most sloppy selves.

  It was weird to think that this would be her last day living here in this house, her last day as Natalie Campbell. And to think that her dad wouldn’t be there, as she’d always hoped – assumed – he would be. She choked back a big lump of sadness that rose up into her throat and lay her hand there. Dad. How was he doing, she wondered? She would have loved to phone him, but she knew that since the operation he was finding it a strain to talk. With the lump now gone and his throat swathed in bandages, he had insisted he just needed to concentrate on getting better now, and that they should leave him to do just that. Just as she, under his express orders, had to concentrate on having a wonderful wedding day, and on being happy.

  Dad’s life had taken a very unexpected turn, but her own was sailing along on the track it had felt destined to follow for as long as she could remember, and from tonight, when they left the reception as husband and wife, her whole life would be moving in a new and even more wonderful direction.

  It was something she had always dreamed of, being married, having her own home, doing the things other girls did. Whoever would have thought that, of all her siblings, she would be the first? Little Natalie, who hated to be the centre of attention, but who, despite the wheelchair – no, because of the wheelchair – had never let life’s challenges get her down. Her chair had never defined who she was because she had refused to let it. And today was the proof of that.

  Phil loved her, chair and all, and probably had done, in his own special way, ever since he’d first hitched a ride on her lap in the playground all those years ago. That they had stuck together, all through school and Phil’s years away at uni, neither of them even looking at anyone else as their friendship turned to love, had to be the most amazingly wonderful thing in the world, and something she would never ever swap, not even if she was offered a brand new pair of legs – walking, running, super-dooper working legs – and all the opportunities that came with them.

  She picked up the necklace he had bought her, especially for today, and held it up. Tiny sapphires gleamed in the light. ‘Blue, to match your eyes,’ he had told her when she’d opened the satin-lined box. She probably would have cried if he hadn’t immediately followed with, ‘and because Chelsea play in blue, obviously!’ and sent her into a fit of giggles instead.

  She fiddled with the clasp at the back of her neck and finally managed to get it to connect, pulling the heart-shaped pendant carefully into position at the front. Chelsea, indeed! Still, if a man was willing to get married on a Saturday afternoon and miss going to the match, it surely must be love!

  The doorbell chimed its usual Edelweiss tune and within seconds Jenny burst back into the room. ‘Ollie’s here!’ she said, excitedly, a dribble of fresh tomato pips sliding down the front of her dressing gown. ‘So, we can get ready now, Nat. Properly ready, dresses and shoes and everything ….’

  ‘Just one thing first, though. Where’s my cup of tea?’

  ‘Oh, yeah. Forgot about that. Coming right up, I promise.’ And she was gone again, leaving the door wide open and the smell of warm cheese wafting in from the kitchen down the hall.

  ‘Hiya, Nat.’ Ollie put his head around the door. ‘All right if I come in?’

  She nodded. Her brother was wearing his suit already, immaculately pressed and with what was obviously a new white shirt, because she could still see the creases from where it had been folded in its packet. Maybe I could offer to iron that for him, she thought, before pushing the thought away again. He wouldn’t want the fuss, and she could surely find better things to be doing on her own wedding day than her brother’s ironing. She had to admit he looked great, even though his tie was a little crooked. All he needed now were his buttonhole flowers, safety pin and all.

  ‘No nerves? Second thoughts? Cold feet?’

  ‘None at all.’ She beckoned him over to sit on the end of the bed and grabbed his hand in hers. ‘But thanks for asking!’

  ‘Apparently it’s what I have to do before I give you away. Make sure you really do want to be given away!’

  ‘Well, consider it done. And, yes, please. Give away to your heart’s content.’

  ‘You sure you’re happy about me doing it?’

  ‘Well, I don’t have much choice, do I?’ She grinned at him. ‘Ollie, you will do me proud. Really, I know you will. And you’re looking so handsome, no one will be looking at me at all. You never know, you might even pull today, if you’re lucky.’

  Ollie laughed. ‘Chance’d be a fine thing. And don’t you think for a minute that no one will be looking at you, because brides are beautiful. All of them. Always.’ He spotted her dress hanging from the wardrobe door, still in its stay-clean see-through wrapper. ‘And if that’s what you’re wearing, believe me, you are going to look stunning. This is one occasion where you’re going to have to put up with being stared at – in the nicest possible way – whether you like it or not.’

  ‘If you say so. But I mean it, Ollie. Someone is going to come along and snap you up one of these days, and then it’ll be you walking down that aisle for your own wedding. If you weren’t my brother, I’d go for you myself! Well, except for the wonky tie, maybe. Here. Let me … There! You’ll do. Now, go and keep Mum busy somehow so I can get ready in peace. It’s bad enough having Beth and Jen fussing around me in such a confined space. I don’t think I could tolerate Mum as well.’ She looked across at her dress and felt her heart do a little flip. ‘Tell her to expect the grand unveiling in about twenty minutes.’

  ***

  The music swelled to a final crescendo as they glided the last few yards and reached the front of the church, her wheels polished to a super-shine, and the soft folds of her dress falling forward and concealing her feet. Beside her, Ollie took a step away and, as she turned her head, there was Phil, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes shining, the huge pink rose pinned to his grey suit lapel drooping just very slightly to one side. Where was Mum with her pot of safety pins when you needed her? She felt his hand slip gently into hers and squeeze it as Beth and Jenny let go of the back of her chair and moved to stand where she could see them, at the side of the aisle.

  In the front pew, Mum and Gran sat close together, clutching hankies. And there were Aunt Jane and Granny Molly, in their unfamiliar finery, feathery hats and all, tucked into the row behind, Jane fiddling with a camera and Granny shuffling through the pages of a hymn book she was not going to need as all the words were printed on the order of service sheet in front of her. On the other side, Phil’s mum Caroline was gripping her husband’s hand and grinning like a cat that’s got the cream, while behind them rows and rows of smiling faces had merged blurrily together as Natalie had come slowly down the aisle and tried to pick each one out through the mist of tears. Theirs as well as her own.

  She could hardly believe, after so many long months of planning, that the moment had actually come, but here she was, about to marry the love of her life. She looked up at Phil, who gave her a reassuring wink, and then the vicar came forward, smiling, holding out his arms to welcome the congregation and gesture that they should be seated, and the last notes from the old organ finally faded away into silence.

  ‘Dearly beloved …’

  There was a loud creak from the back of the church and the vicar stopped in mid-sentence, almost before he had begun. The heavy wooden door opened on its ancient hinges, just enough to send a long dusty beam of light straight up the faded red carpet that had been laid along the aisle floor, and onto the back of Natalie’s dress. There was a muttering from the guests and, as the silence was broken, someone took the opportunity t
o cough. Natalie turned just as the door closed again and the beam disappeared, throwing the interior of the church back into semi-gloom, but not too late to see the unmistakable shape of her father edging his way around the pews and into the side aisle, making his way slowly and as quietly as he could towards the front.

  ‘Well, you cut that a bit fine,’ she heard her mum whisper, as he sat down in the space beside her, almost as if she’d known he would be coming all along. Natalie saw the vicar make some sort of sign to Ollie, who tipped his head enquiringly towards the front row, but Dad shook his head and mouthed something she couldn’t quite make out. Nevertheless, Ollie walked over and took Dad’s hand in his, pulling him to his feet, and without saying anything more, the two men changed places.

  She felt something like relief flood over her. He had come, just as she had always hoped he would. Not quite in time to walk beside her up the aisle, and it was too late to change that now, but he would be the one to give her away. She gazed at him for a moment, noticed the white flash of a dressing taped to his throat and sticking up over his collar, saw how pale he looked, how his hands shook as he clasped the order of service sheet between them, but there was no time to ask how he had got here, to wonder if he was okay, to worry if he should have come at all. Not now.

  ‘Dearly beloved,’ the vicar began again, as everyone stopped shuffling about, and the ceremony finally got underway.

  Chapter 43

  Kate, 1996

  I didn’t need to ask whose she was. While Beth, Ollie and Nat, with their dark hair and round faces, all looked so much like me, this child was the absolute image of Dan.