Sensing that I wasn’t ready to talk (I think the crying gave it away), he’d switched the car radio on and we drove along in companionable silence, Dad patting me on the shoulder every now and again when my sobs became particularly loud. About halfway home, the tears finally dried up and I was able to get out the whole story of everything that had happened over the past few weeks. Taken in isolation, no one thing seemed insurmountable but as I recounted everything together for the first time that’s exactly how it seemed: insurmountable. I thought Dad would be mad at me, I felt like I’d let him down, but he hadn’t been angry. Just concerned. He’d asked a lot of questions when I started telling him about Tracy and I didn’t have all the answers (‘No, Dad, I don’t know exactly what she’s been saying to Lizzie.’ ‘I didn’t tell you she’d been in touch because I didn’t want to upset you.’ ‘I don’t know why she’s back.’ And so on, and so on). His face went red with rage when I detailed exactly how Nicole had pulled the wool over my eyes and humiliated me, and he made sympathetic noises when I brought up Seffy’s pictures (‘That must’ve been hard to see, kiddo, but Daniel’s a good lad. I think you’re right to believe him when he says nothing’s going on. Not with that little slip of a lass anyway – nowhere near Daniel’s type’).
By the time we get home I’m emotionally drained but I muster up enough energy to greet Jill, Dad’s new girlfriend, enthusiastically. She had pulled me in for a hug and whispered in my ear that she’d make me a nice brew, and I immediately felt at ease around her. The three of us are now lounging in the living room, drinking tea and munching on biscuits, when we hear a loud bang.
‘What the bloody hell was that?’ Dad shouts, marching over to the window and pulling back the blinds. ‘Oh, shit,’ he says, closing the blinds again.
‘What is it?’ I ask, sitting forward on the sofa.
‘What is it, love?’ Jill asks.
He looks at me, sympathy etched all over his lovely big face. ‘I think it’s those bloody photographers, Bex love. Paparazzi. There’s a bunch of people out there, all holding cameras.’
‘You’re kidding!’ I go over and have a sneaky peek out of the window. They can’t have followed me here. What are they hoping to see? ‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, turning to Dad and Jill. ‘You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. I’ll get rid of them.’
I march to the front door angrily and yank it open. I’m in my scruffs, hair scraped back, not a stitch of make-up on my face and I couldn’t care less. This is not on. Following me around London is one thing, but not here. This is my dad’s house. I’m not having it happen here. The cameras start whirring and snapping, and the photographers start calling my name.
‘Rebecca! Becky!’
‘Hey, guys,’ I say, trying to keep my voice friendly. ‘This is my dad’s home. Take my picture now if you like, but can you leave after that? He’s got nothing to do with this, and you’re trampling all over his lawn.’
‘We’re not going anywhere, love,’ says a paparazzi who looks familiar. He has an Australian accent. ‘We’ve gotta trail you, boss’s orders.’
‘What for?’ I ask, exasperated. ‘What do you think is going to happen? I’m just sitting inside with my dad, having a cup of tea. There’s nothing going on.’
One of the photographers has the good grace to turn a bit red. ‘Since that video went up on YouTube, we’ve been told to wait here in case you flip out again.’
Huh?
‘Flip out? What video?’ I ask, an all-too-familiar feeling of doom spreading through me.
‘Oh shit, she’s not seen it, fellas!’ One of them laughs. ‘I’d go and google yourself if I were you, flower. It’s a right laugh. Well, maybe not for you . . . ’
I slam the door shut and stalk back into the living room, heart pounding. What were they talking about? I didn’t think things could get any worse, but maybe they can. I remember giving a couple of diners the finger when Daniel was dragging me out of the restaurant. Did they have their phones out? Oh God, oh God, oh God.
‘Are they buggering off now?’ Dad says. ‘Shall I go out and have a word?’
‘No, no, that’s okay,’ I say distractedly, picking up my phone and turning it on. I’ve had it turned off since Dad picked me up. I google my name and go to the videos tab.
There’s a video on YouTube entitled Rebecca Ashworth Loses The Plot. I click on it and feel all the blood rush to my face as I see myself shouting and raging at Nicole in the middle of the restaurant, Elena and Rupert looking mortified at the table and Daniel dragging my out by the arm. Yep, there it is, I’m giving someone the finger. Great. Just great.
Why does everyone have to put everything online? Can’t they just leave people to their own lives? It’s just so . . . cruel. That video makes me look unhinged and maybe for a few minutes I was, but that’s not me. I never lose my cool, but it was one thing after another that day and yes, I did lose my temper a bit. Just this once. I didn’t even know I had a temper! Am I going to be reminded of it every time I’m in public? Every time I spot someone staring at me will I wonder if that’s what they’re thinking about? Will people be afraid of me, like they were with Lizzie? For the first time I have a real insight into how she must’ve felt when she saw that story about her. Oh, Lizzie, I think, I’m so sorry for all you went through.
Dad and Jill lean over my shoulder, watching the video, shocked looks on their faces. Then, to my surprise, the pair of them fall about laughing.
‘This is not funny!’ I point out. ‘Why are you laughing?’
Jill tries to compose herself but is unsuccessful and she has to sit down she’s laughing so hard. Dad has tears streaming down his face.
‘Look at that!’ he says. ‘You’re really giving it some welly! I’ve not seen you throw a tantrum like that since you were a kid!’
‘Stop laughing!’ I grumble.
‘Ooh, look at their faces!’ Jill laughs, taking the phone and zooming in on Elena and Rupert’s dismayed expressions as I give Nicole what for.
They do look pretty horrified.
And something about it is pretty funny.
Dad pulls me into a hug and plants a sloppy kiss on the side of my head. ‘Come now, Bex, you need to see the funny side of this. I know it all seems like the end of the world right now but really,’ he starts howling with laughter again, ‘Daniel’s parents didn’t know where to look! Wish I’d been there. I’d have told ’em where to go an’ all. Imagine Daniel trying to drag us both out of there. No chance!’
God, I love my dad.
And he’s right. Watching this through their eyes, I realise it’s not the end of the world. Before I know it I’m laughing too and it feels good. Dad and Jill rewind and replay the video, laughing more each time they see it, and I find myself joining in. It makes me feel normal again, and for the umpteenth time today I’m glad I’m home.
*
We eventually calm down from our laughing fit and we settle down in front of the TV for an evening of mindless entertainment. We turn it right up to drown out the sound of the photographers outside who are still making plenty of racket. I’ve turned my phone off again without checking any of the messages and I’m ready for a nice normal drama-free evening in front of the box.
‘Dad?’ A voice comes from the door. ‘Hellooo?’
‘Liz Wiz!’ Dad exclaims in delight, jumping up to envelop her in a hug.
Lizzie’s eyes meet mine and I instantly feel my defences go up as I remember our row and her words come rushing back to me.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, folding my arms across my chest.
Lizzie hesitates for a second. ‘I just wanted to get away from everything. I wanted to come home. What are you doing here?’
‘Same,’ I say.
Neither of us can think of anything else to say. The silence stretches between us. I think it might suffocate me until Dad says, exasperated, ‘Oh, for Pete’s sake, what’s the matter with you two? Normally I can’t get a word in, the pair of yo
u are always nattering. I’m not walking around on eggshells while you two ignore each other. Not bloody likely, not in this house.’
‘Sorry, Dad,’ I say meekly.
‘Yeah, sorry.’ Lizzie murmurs, shamefaced. ‘And, er, hello. You must be Jill? It’s nice to meet you.’ She holds her hand out to Jill, who pulls her in for a hug, much to Lizzie’s discomfort. Normally we’d share a private smile about how ‘huggy’ Dad’s new girlfriend is, but we don’t. It’s too awkward.
‘Right, Lizzie, you sit there,’ he gestures to the sofa, ‘and Bex, you sit next to her. Jill, you come and sit next to me.’
Dad and Jill are the only ones who look pleased with this idea, but Jill knows it’s time to leave and tells us she needs to run some errands. She kisses Dad quickly but tenderly before she leaves and in spite of everything I’m glad he’s found someone who makes him happy. Jill seems like a very nice lady.
Once she’s gone, Dad turns to us, his expression stern. ‘You two are not falling out over this. Remember what we’ve always said? The Ashworth way is family first. Have you forgotten that?’
Lizzie and I remain mute.
Dad puffs his cheeks out in exasperation. ‘Bex, we’ve had a good long talk about everything that’s happened but we haven’t talked, Liz Wiz. Want to tell me what’s been going on?’ His eyes are kind and it’s almost too much for me as I try to hold back the tears. No such luck with Lizzie who’s crying openly. She buries her head in her hands.
‘Everything’s such a mess,’ she howls.
Over the next half an hour, Lizzie speaks. Some of what she says I already know about but a lot of it is news to me. My heart squeezes when she tells me about Justin and how much she liked him. She found someone who wasn’t an utter waste of space? I’m happy for her – until she gets to the part about Nicole’s role in everything. My mouth drops open.
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ I say. It all makes such horrible, perfect sense now.
Lizzie shakes her head miserably and Dad looks like he’s ready to explode. He keeps it in check though – now isn’t the time for him to lose it – and just says tightly, ‘Go on, sweetheart. Is there anything else?’
Surely there can’t be? I think, but Lizzie is already nodding. And she tells us about Tracy, how hesitant she was at first and then how much she warmed to the idea of having a mum in her life, how she began to open up and then Tracy’s ultimate betrayal.
‘Maybe . . . ’ Lizzie said hesitantly, ‘it wasn’t her? Maybe it’s just a coincidence and I’ve got this all wrong.’
Dad and I exchange a look. We’re both certain she’s behind it. ‘Lizzie, love,’ Dad says, ‘I think she might have been the one to speak to the papers. I’m sorry.’
Lizzie starts crying again and out of pure instinct I pull her towards me. She rests her head on my shoulder, both of us finding comfort in the familiarity of one another.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about the email?’ she asks in a small voice.
‘It wasn’t that I couldn’t be bothered,’ I say carefully. ‘Like I said yesterday, I really was just trying to protect you.’
‘You were worried I’d react badly?’
‘No, I was worried you’d get hurt.’
‘I wish you’d just told me.’
‘Me too,’ I admit. ‘Perhaps this all could’ve been avoided if we’d just been honest with each other, for God’s sake. And I do mean we, Lizzie. You should’ve told me that she’d been in touch.’
‘I know, I was going to.’ She sits up and looks at me imploringly. ‘But I was unsure how you’d react so I just kept bottling it and then was distracted with Justin.’ She looks like she’s going to start crying again so I pull her in for another hug.
‘You really hurt me yesterday,’ I say.
‘I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was just defensive and angry. It’s no excuse, I know, but it’s the truth.’
‘You don’t really think I believe you’re stupid or any of those other things, do you?’ I ask, not sure I really want to hear the answer.
‘Maybe a bit,’ Lizzie says. ‘Sometimes I feel as though you just put up with me, you know? Silly little Lizzie moving from one mess to another, never getting anything right.’
‘No, that’s never been it at all,’ I say. Is that really how she’s felt all this time? I had no idea. ‘I’m proud of you, always have been and always will be. I just wanted you to know I have your back, no matter what. Maybe I went about it all wrong. Maybe I can be a little bit overbearing.’
‘I know you and Dad have always felt this need to shield me from things,’ Lizzie says, ‘but I can handle the truth. I’m a big girl now. You don’t need to do that any more.’
‘I think we should tell her, Bex,’ Dad says gruffly, his voice thick with emotion at watching his two girls open up.
No, I think. I don’t want to Lizzie to know. I look up at him, uncertain.
‘We have to,’ Dad goes on. ‘She deserves to know the truth.’
‘About what?’ Lizzie asks, her gaze moving between me and Dad.
‘About what happened after your mum left,’ Dad says.
‘You mean when she tried to come back?’ Lizzie says. ‘I already know. She told me that she wanted to come back but you both told her to leave.’
I blink. WHAT?! Dad is speechless too.
‘That’s not what happened,’ I say.
‘She lied about that too?’ Lizzie asks.
Dad nods sadly. ‘She never tried to come home.’
‘Then what are you talking about?’ Lizzie says, frustrated. ‘Just tell me!’
I can’t say it so I look down at my feet. Dad starts speaking. ‘It was actually the other way round, love,’ he says. ‘We found out where she was staying through a friend of a friend, you know how it is. Anyway, I went round there, your sister came with me, you were at a mate’s birthday party, I think?’ Dad looks at me for confirmation and I nod. I remember EVERYTHING about that day. ‘So we went over and I tried to convince her to come back, if not for me, then for you girls. I begged and begged, but she wasn’t having any of it. Just said this wasn’t the life she wanted, to just scrape by, that she’d never wanted kids. I tried, Liz Wiz, I did, but then your sister . . . ’ Dad’s voice trails off.
Lizzie looks back at me, her eyes wide. ‘What did you do?’ Her voice is a whisper.
‘I begged her,’ I say, choking back a sob. ‘I got down on my knees and literally begged her to come back to us. I said you needed a mum, that I couldn’t do it, she needed to come back for you. And she just looked at me and then walked away, without a word. Left me there on my knees. She didn’t look back.’ And then I’m crying again and this time it’s Lizzie who’s hugging me.
‘I had no idea,’ she says. ‘I’m so sorry you had to go through that – so so sorry. I get it now. Oh, Bex,’ she squeezes me tighter. ‘You’re the best mum I could’ve ever had – even better than a mum because you’re a sister too, a two-in-one. You do it all. Swiss Army Bex, that’s what I’m going to start calling you.’
Lizzie is so sweet and that just makes me cry harder.
‘I was such an idiot,’ Lizzie says. ‘She . . . she was so nice to me, though. She looked after me when . . . yesterday, you know.’
Yes, I knew. ‘She took advantage of the situation and the fact that you were upset,’ I say.
‘I can see that now. Why am I so trusting?!’
‘That’s your best quality, love,’ Dad says. ‘Don’t ever change.’ He comes over and squeezes in between us, putting an arm around each of us. ‘Your mum isn’t a good person and that’s nothing to do with either of you. Money’s always been on her mind so she saw an opportunity and went for it. She must’ve seen your engagement announcement or something, love, looked up Daniel’s family and got in touch when she realised who they were. Always on the make, that one.’
‘I wish I’d never told her anything. I wish I’d never told Justin, then none of this would be happening.’
‘I tried,’ Lizzie says. ‘Remember I texted you to tell you I was going on a date and I wanted some tips? You didn’t reply and then things started kicking off so there was never the right time.’
I sigh. I remember that message – I received it the same night Tracy emailed. Lizzie’s right, my mind has been somewhere else.
‘That was the night Tracy emailed,’ I explained. ‘I was distracted and forgot to respond. I’m sorry, you’re right. I haven’t been around for you lately.’
‘We seem to be saying sorry a lot,’ Lizzie said with a smile.
I return her smile and say, ‘Well, there’s a lot to be sorry for. So about Justin . . . are you going to speak to him?’
‘No way,’ Lizzie sounds determined. ‘He was just using me. I liked him, really liked him as well, but that didn’t mean anything to him. He was never interested in me, I was just a part in Nicole’s twisted scheme and he’s nothing but her sad little lapdog.’
‘You’re sure?’ I coax. There’s something about the way Lizzie speaks about him, the look in her eyes, that makes me think perhaps she’s deluding herself. Having never met the man, I have nothing to go on, and the way he’s treated her . . . it makes my blood boil. But I know first-hand how manipulative Nicole can be. She had me fooled too for a while so maybe Justin’s worth fighting for. I don’t say this, but it’s very much on my mind.
‘Is Daniel with you?’ Lizzie asks, swiftly changing the subject.
I realise Lizzie doesn’t know what happened before I went round to Jay’s so now it’s my turn to fill her in. I tell her exactly how Nicole broke the news about Tracy to me (Lizzie: ‘That little Balfucker!’ Dad: ‘Lizzie, language . . . ’), the scene in the restaurant and the video that’s appeared online, finding the photos of Seffy on Daniel’s phone (Lizzie: ‘That slag! That Angelina Jolie wannabe! What the hell was she thinking?’) and Daniel’s plans to go back to university so he can train to be a vet (Dad: ‘Always knew that lad was meant for more than a business suit and fancy desk. Good for him.’).
My Sister's Wedding: For better or worse, two families are about to become one . . . Page 23