Too Close to Home

by Susan Lewis

  “No, no, it’s fine,” she assured him. “It’s not what I was thinking.”

  “It’s just you’re only fifteen, and I…Well, you get what I’m saying?”

  “Sure, I get it,” she said, somehow not blurting out that she was nearly sixteen, and Liam didn’t seem to mind about Charlotte being fifteen. It would look too desperate and really put him on the spot, which would make everything a thousand times worse.

  “I’d kind of like it if we were friends, though,” he said. “Or I could be like the older brother you always wished you had.”

  Paige tried to smile. Friend? Brother? “What makes you think I always wished that?”

  He shrugged. “Just a hunch. But also it might help you to know you’ve always got someone to turn to if anything like this starts up again. I mean, it shouldn’t, because she’s being expelled, isn’t she?”

  “I don’t know. Anyway, I’m not sure that’ll stop her coming after me.”

  “The first sign of it, you’ve got my number. Cullum’s going to be on the lookout, so he’ll keep me informed even if you don’t.”

  Finding herself suddenly horribly close to tears, Paige said, “I probably ought to go in now.”

  Pushing himself away from the wall, he said, “Sure. Thanks for coming out.”

  “No big deal.”

  As she started to walk away he asked, “Hey, if you do decide to do the play on Good Friday, would it be OK if I came?”

  She couldn’t turn round or he’d see how upset she was. “I don’t expect I will,” she mumbled, “but I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

  Minutes later she was in her mother’s arms, sobbing as though her heart would break. “I wanted him to like me,” she gasped, “but he thinks I’m just a kid.”

  “Well, you are three years younger.”

  “So what? That’s nothing, and it hasn’t stopped Liam being with Charlotte. He doesn’t fancy me; he just doesn’t want to say so.”

  “He wants to be friends, though, and lots of relationships have started that way.”

  “No, he wants to be like a brother. That’s different altogether.”

  “Not really, because he isn’t your brother and never will be, no matter how close you might become.”

  “How are we going to get close if I don’t ever see him?”

  “He’s already said he’ll come to the play if you do it,” Jenna reminded her, “so you’d see him then. And we could always invite him and his family over to the Pitcher and Piano after to celebrate.”

  “Who says we’re going to the Pitcher and Piano? It’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

  “Dad thought it would be a nice idea, if it was what you wanted.”

  “So Dad’s coming to the play?”

  “Of course. You know he wouldn’t miss any play you’re in.”

  “Won’t he be gone back to the States by then?”

  “Apparently not.”

  Paige’s expression remained mutinous. “I haven’t said I’m going to do it,” she pointed out heatedly, “and now I feel I’m being forced into it.”

  “That’s not the case at all. The decision’s entirely yours. I’m just saying that if you do feel up to doing it, we could all go for a little party after to toast your success.”

  “You mean after everyone’s booed and shouted at me to get off, or howled because of how bad I sound?”

  Jenna frowned. “You read that part beautifully. Everyone thinks so, especially Miss Kendrick, who, by the way, wants to come and see you tomorrow.”

  “No way! I want everyone to stop coming to see me. It’s just making everything worse.”

  “OK, OK…”

  “She’s only going to try and talk me into being in her stupid production, and I don’t want to do it.”

  “I promise she won’t pressure you, and actually it’s not why she’s coming. She wants to say sorry for not going to Mr. Charles when you first told her what was happening with Kelly Durham.”

  Paige stared desperately at her mother. “I don’t want to see her,” she cried. “I really, really just want to forget all about it.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do for now, but I’m afraid you still have to see a specialist for an assessment of—”

  “All right, if I have to I will. I just don’t want to make the whole of the rest of my life about this, because I can’t see how that will help at all.” Tearing herself away, she ran upstairs to FaceTime Charlotte, who’d understand better than anyone how she felt about Oliver not wanting to go out with her, even though he wasn’t with Lindsay anymore.

  —

  “I was thinking,” Jack said later that evening after bringing the children home, “I could sit down outside her door and refuse to move until she speaks to me.”

  Jenna raised an eyebrow. “She’s out with Waffle at the moment, so it wouldn’t do you much good.”

  “You know what I’m saying.”

  “Yes, and I know it’s worked in the past, but she’s older now and this is a little different.”

  He nodded dejectedly. “I’m running out of ideas here, so if you’ve got any…”

  Sighing, Jenna said, “Look, I know you’re in a hurry to try and make amends, but she still needs time.”

  “How much time?”

  “I’ve no idea. These things don’t run according to a schedule, and she’s been very hurt by your leaving.”

  Kay said, “Why don’t you write her a letter? Or send her an email?”

  “Saying what?”

  “Whatever it is you want to say when she’s ready to talk. If she knows in advance, she might be more willing to listen.”

  “Or not,” Hanna muttered.

  “Hanna,” Jenna chided.

  “Well, what’s he going to do,” Hanna cried, “explain to her that he’s fallen for another woman, so he’s not going to be living with you and the family anymore? She already knows that, so reading it or hearing it isn’t going to make her feel any better about it.”

  “She needs to know that his feelings for her haven’t changed,” Jenna told her.

  “And you think that’ll help?”

  “It can’t do any harm.”

  “She’s not a child. He can’t just palm her off with words that aren’t going to mean anything when he’s gone again.”

  “So what do you suggest?” Jack asked her helplessly.

  Hanna threw out her hands. “It might be a start if you told her you’d made a colossal mistake and want to come home.”

  Jenna looked at Jack and decided not to come to his rescue, in spite of not being sure she’d want him back now anyway. She might still love him and wish it was possible to erase these last few months, but she was beginning to realize that she’d lost respect for him, and without that—and trust—they were never going to stand a chance.

  “I have to be true to myself,” Jack said quietly.

  Hanna’s temper flared again. “And being true to yourself is blowing my sister’s inheritance, almost getting her charged with fraud, making her afraid she was about to lose her home—oh, and shacking up with another woman when you’ve got four children at home. How are you liking that truth, Jack? How well is it working for you? Because I can tell you this, it’s not working for me at all.”

  Jack eyed her darkly. “You’ve always had too much to say for yourself, too high an opinion of—”

  “Stop,” Jenna cut in sharply, “both of you. The younger ones are just on the other side of that door, and frankly I don’t want to listen to any more of this. All that matters to me is that my children are safe. I understand that matters to you too, Jack—”

  “Which is why he shot off to the States,” Hanna interjected.

  “And he came back when Paige was in trouble,” Jenna pointed out. “He has a lot of ground to make up with her, there’s no doubt about that, and I’m not paving the way for you, Jack. I’ll do what I can to help her through everything, obviously, and as soon as I feel that a rift between you is havi
ng a detrimental effect on her I will get on the case. Until then, think about what she’s just been through, remind yourself that everything’s about her, not you, and for God’s sake start taking her rejection like a man instead of hanging around here feeling sorry for yourself all the time. Oh, and let’s be perfectly clear about this: the real reason you want to hurry up and get back on terms with her is so you can return to the States to be with your mistress.”

  “Yes,” Hanna whispered behind her.

  Jenna turned to glare at her.

  “It needed to be said,” Hanna pointed out.

  Kay came to pat her back. “Yes it did, Jenna,” she told her. “I’m sorry, Jack, but it really did.”

  “So you’re all ganging up on me now,” he said sourly.

  “Yes, we are,” Paige told him from the back door.

  As everyone turned round, Jenna asked. “How long have you been there?”

  “Long enough,” Paige replied, hanging Waffle’s lead on its hook. “Mum’s right, Dad, you’re only staying until I’ve said it’s all right that you fell for someone else and that I understand, but I’m never going to understand it. Perhaps one day it won’t matter anymore, but right now it does and I’m not going to pretend it doesn’t. You’ve hurt the person I love most in the world, and she really didn’t deserve it. You’ve hurt all of us too, me, Josh, and the twins, and we didn’t deserve it either. That’s not to say I don’t love you, because I know that on some level I still do, but it’ll never be the same between us again, and that’s what I’m finding really hard. You’ve ruined what we had, but instead of understanding that, you seem to think everything’ll be all right just as long as we play by your new rules. Well, it’s not going to happen. It can’t, because what you’ve done has changed everything. I’m Mum’s best friend now, not you, and she’s mine. You can be a part of it, but you’ll never be at the center of it the way you used to be. I expect it’ll be easier for you with Josh and the twins, because they’re younger, but don’t think they won’t know as they get older that you put someone else before them. That’s not me saying I’ll tell them you did, because I won’t; they’ll work it out for themselves, and they’ll realize that we have the best mum in the world who loves us more than anything and would do anything for us, and a dad who loves us and would do anything for us provided it doesn’t get in the way of what he wants. Good luck with that, Dad. I hope it goes well for you, but don’t ask me to forgive you right now, because I can’t.” Leaving them all speechless, she clicked her fingers for Waffle to follow and took herself off upstairs.

  Jack’s face was even paler than Jenna’s as he stared at the empty doorway.

  In the end, Jenna said, “I hope, when you’ve stopped thinking about how this is affecting you, Jack, that you’ll spare a moment to feel proud of her for being able to speak her mind the way she just did.”

  Jack’s eyes came to hers as he said, “I think I already do.”

  Paige was in her mother’s car outside the Dylan Thomas Centre. Her grandma, Bena, and Auntie Hanna were in the car behind, while Josh, the twins, and Waffle were at home being looked after by Mrs. Keys from the village. The children were too young to come to a play like this, even though they’d been mad keen to see their sister perform.

  “I expect you’re going to be famous after,” Flora told her so earnestly that her little glasses steamed up with the excitement of it, “and everyone will want your autograph. Can I have it now so I’ll be the first?”

  Paige had dutifully signed the back of a drawing, the only piece of paper Flora had been able to find. Josh and Wills were next in line, with an old envelope in Josh’s case and a birthday card in Wills’s.

  In truth, Paige still wasn’t sure she could go through with it. Though she’d been attending rehearsals for the past week, which had all gone well, it wasn’t the same as having to stand up in front of an audience that the recently expelled Kelly Durham or one of the Durmites might have snuck into.

  On the other hand, she was determined not to let them win. She wanted to do this. She loved the play and knew how much it would mean to her mother to see her in the lead role. Oliver was coming, and that meant a lot to her, even if he didn’t want to go out with her. She’d feel a proper loser if she backed out now, and yet the truth was she desperately wanted to.

  “Are you OK?” her mother asked gently.

  Paige nodded. She was glad they were in the car park next to the river, well past the hotel she’d seen her dad coming out of with Martha the last time she was here. They’d obviously been in there screwing, which made her feel sick and angry with him all over again.

  He probably wouldn’t come tonight after the way she’d spoken to him the last time she’d seen him.

  Good. She didn’t want him here anyway. He wasn’t a part of their lives anymore.

  Swallowing the tears that suddenly threatened, she said to her mother, “Did you know that Olivia was supposed to be performing Stravinsky’s memorial piece tonight?”

  “You mean ‘Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night’?” her mother replied. “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “She’s not now. Miss Kendrick confirmed today that she’d pulled out. I wonder if she and Owen might come to see the play anyway.”

  “It’s probably more likely that they’ve already gone to Kent with their aunt,” Jenna reminded her.

  Paige wasn’t entirely sure why, but it made her feel horribly sad to realize she might never see them again. “I keep thinking about her,” she admitted, “and wishing she’d had the courage to make friends in the proper way. We’d have made her feel a part of our family—and shown her what we’re really like.”

  Smiling at the irony, Jenna said, “I’m afraid she wasn’t capable of connecting in a normal way, which is a great pity. She probably could have been a lovely friend.”

  “When I think about all those vile things people said about me and Dad and then I think about her…She was really going through it, and he’s her real dad, for God’s sake. It’s so horrible, and her mum was a part of it. Can you imagine how bad it must have been? I hope they get sent to prison for the rest of their lives.”

  “I don’t think the sentence is as long as that,” Jenna responded, “but it ought to be.” After smoothing Paige’s hair, she said, “Are you ready to go in now?”

  “I guess so,” Paige replied, feeling another surge of nerves swamping her resolve.

  When she didn’t move, Jenna said, “If you’ve changed your mind…”

  “I haven’t. I just…” Spotting Auntie Hanna and Bena waiting out in the cold, she opened the car door. “I’m going in now,” she declared to her mother. “You don’t have to come with me.”

  Since they’d brought Paige early for costume and makeup, Jenna said, “We’ll probably go across the road for a drink, but I’ll keep my phone turned on in case you need me.”

  “OK. Thanks, but don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

  Famous last words.

  An hour and a half later Paige was at the side of the stage with Captain Cat, Rosie Probert, and the five drowned sailors ready to begin at the beginning. Cullum and Charlotte, who were playing Mr. Edwards and Miss Price, were still hanging back, but they didn’t need to be ready for their cues yet. Paige’s opening speech was a long one, and though she knew it by heart, right now she couldn’t think of a single word.

  “Breathe,” Miss Kendrick whispered in her ear. “Nice deep breaths.”

  Doing as she was told, Paige felt the lines slowly reassembling, all the richly witty and outlandish adjectives, the strange and thrilling use of verbs, the poetic conjuring of the sleeping town of Llareggub. From the other side of the curtain she could hear the burble of voices, and she tried to picture where her mother was sitting, and Oliver, and Kelly Durham if she’d managed to sneak in. Once the lights went up she wouldn’t be able to see the audience, so she wouldn’t know where anyone was, which might be a good thing.

  What was she going to do if ever
yone started catcalling and booing?

  Die and never put herself in this position again.

  “OK, make with the dry ice,” Miss Kendrick instructed Lloyd Brace, one of the stagehands.

  As the predawn mist began to billow over the stage, Paige felt a sudden, desperate urge to flee. She might have done so, were she not frozen to the spot in panic.

  Breathe. Just keep breathing.

  Captain Cat—aka Tom Parsons the class clown—was going onstage to lie on his bunk.

  As he disappeared in the mist Miss Kendrick’s hand touched Paige’s arm, gently easing her into position.

  When the curtain went up she would be performing solo for a full three minutes. Everyone would be watching her, listening to her delivery of the world-famous lines, assessing her understanding of how they should be spoken, judging how worthy she was of this great honor. A female almost never took on the role of First Voice; it had been written for a man, and the Thomas diehards, the purists, would want to see and hear it performed by a man.

  They were going to hate her, boo her, and shout her off.

  From the corner of her eye she caught Miss Kendrick’s arm going down, Lloyd’s cue to raise the curtain, and hers to begin at the beginning.

  She heard herself speaking the words: “To begin at the beginning: It is spring, moonless night in the small town…” The audience could see her now, a girl, an impostor seeming to float in a groundswell of fog, an apparition in Llareggub. “…starless and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent…”

  There wasn’t a murmur in the room; the only sound was her, speaking softly, lyrically, wryly, with Captain Cat, asleep on his bunk, being slowly revealed.

  She wasn’t sure at which point she lost the sense of herself and became totally immersed in the bizarre and wonderful tragicomedy; she only knew on a level too distant to touch that there was nothing apart from the hilarious and intriguing oddities of the characters, their dreams, rivalries, disappointments, passions, and the day they were spending “Under waking Wood.”

  Until finally Polly Garter met Mr. Waldo in the forest, and “the thin night darkens” and Llareggub was quiet again.