The Story of Our Life

by Shari Low

  For a moment I thought she was going to ask what I’d done to regret, but she didn’t. Instead, she just cut straight to agreeing to help.

  ‘Okay, I will. You know, he’s lucky to have you.’

  I wasn't sure that was true. I’d betrayed him by sleeping with Vincent, and I’d regretted it every moment since.

  I hugged her again. ‘Thank you. I can’t believe I’m about to say this but in a way, I’m glad this happened. I understand so much more now. I just hope it’s not too late to make everything all right again.’

  ‘It’s not,’ she said, with more confidence than I felt. I was about to reply when a ringing phone interrupted my thoughts. ‘I think that’s yours,’ Jess said.

  I scrambled in my pocket, found it, checked the screen. ‘Unknown number.’

  ‘It might be Colm. If his battery has run out he might be using a different phone.’

  She was right, but I couldn’t help a twinge of irritation over the reason that she knew he hadn’t charged his phone last night. I was going to accept this, but I didn’t say it was going to be easy.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Shauna, it’s your mother.’ I was struck by how unlike my mother it sounded.

  ‘It’s your dad. He’s in hospital. Hammersmith. You have to come now.’

  ‘But mum, what’s…’

  ‘Just come now, Shauna.’

  The line went dead.

  40

  2009

  Saying Goodbye

  I pressed the doorbell, and there was a loud buzz from somewhere deep inside the house. I heard a woman’s voice. ‘It’s okay, I’ll get it. I’m going now anyway… Oh.’

  The last word was a sneer, delivered without hesitation or embarrassment as Carole and I came face to her perfect face. Bugger. I hadn’t expected her to be there.

  ‘Seriously?’ she asked, a question that I had no idea how to answer, given that I had no knowledge of the reference point.

  ‘Hi Carole,’ I grinned, and threw in a cute wave. That seemed to annoy her more.

  ‘Urgh,’ she uttered, strutting past me and down the path.

  I waited, not sure whether it was okay to enter or not. This was the first time I’d been back since that night, and I wasn’t sure of the boundaries until Vincent ambled down the hallway, in nothing more than a pair of jeans, surprise registering in his expression when he saw me.

  ‘Hi. Is everything okay?’

  Yes. No. Absolutely. Where to start? I answered with a shrug and a weak, ‘Yeah, I just wanted to… talk to you. Just for a moment. If you’re not busy.’

  More puzzlement from the incredible-looking man in the jeans and naked torso. The sudden thought that Annie would love this view made me smile.

  ‘What’s funny?’ Vincent asked, his smile now mirroring mine.

  I giggled. ‘I just had the sudden thought of how much Annie would love this sight right here.’

  The laughter, like the smiles, was contagious. He opened the black gloss cupboard above the sink and took out two mugs, slotting them both into position on his high-tech, NASA standard coffee maker, and pressing a few buttons. In seconds, the machine began to expel two streams of steaming liquid into the cups.

  He looked over in my direction and the glance became a stare, ‘Why are your knees dirty?’

  ‘Oh.’ I hadn’t even realised that they were. White jeans probably weren’t the best choice for kneeling on grass.

  ‘I was at the cemetery. Went to talk to my gran.’

  He responded with a soft smile, a memory of a special woman shared.

  When the coffee was done, Vincent lifted them both and handed one over. ‘Want to sit outside or inside?’ he asked.

  ‘Outside.’ Inside felt claustrophobic, what with Vincent, me and the ever-present guilt that came with us.

  ‘Good call.’

  It was still warm, the unseasonably warm October sun beating down on us as we sat on the loungers side on, so we were facing each other.

  ‘Carole looked pleased to see me,’ I said breezily, making him splutter his coffee. It took him a few seconds to recover. ‘Yeah, she’s hoping you’ll be very best friends,’ he said, carrying on the joke.

  I took a sip of the Columbian roast, felt my stomach lurch a little, and wondered if that was a hint that perhaps coffee would be an issue in the next few months.

  I put the mug down on the table that sat between the top ends of the loungers. ‘So is it all back on then?’

  Vincent made that face he always did when he was deliberating. ‘I don’t know. She’s moving to New York, wants me to go with her, says we’ll have a better chance over there without “that bloody woman” everywhere.’

  ‘I’m “that bloody woman”?’

  ‘Yep. Don’t take it personally,’ he grinned. ‘Anyway, obviously moving to the US isn’t feasible, so it’s a moot point.’

  ‘Would you want to go? If it wasn’t for the business?’

  I expected a firm ‘no’ but he hesitated. ‘Honestly? I don’t know, Shauna. Look, I know we agreed not to talk about…’ he pondered the right words, ‘…what happened… but if we’re going to discuss this we need to lift the ban.’

  I didn’t like to say that we were about to completely blow the ban to smithereens once we got on to talking about the reason I’d come here, so I just nodded.

  ‘Ban lifted,’ I agreed.

  ‘Okay, so…’ Suddenly he was floundering, his whole demeanour going from cocky and funny, to deflated. ‘I don’t know if I can be happy here any more. How can I move on and love anyone else when I’m seeing you every day? You’ll never leave Colm, Shauna. I accept that. I really hoped you would, even after we were together, but I knew I was wasting my time. Going to New York makes sense on many levels. It would give Carole and me a chance to see if we could make it work. It would be a new start, a new city, a place where every damn thing didn’t remind me of you.’

  His stream of consciousness ended there, and took a moment to adjust to a different viewpoint. ‘But obviously we have the business here, and we’ve worked so hard to make it a success. If I left now it would leave you totally in the lurch and I wouldn’t do that to you, especially when you and Colm are still struggling financially.’

  I realized that I hadn’t thought about our overdraft or the implications of the latest development on our finances. Money no longer seemed to matter quite as much.

  A bird landed on the ground at the end of the lounger and hung around, eavesdropping.

  ‘I think you should go,’ I said, my gaze meeting his as his brow furrowed.

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Yes. I think Carole’s right. Please don’t tell her that. But I think you need to see if a new environment changes things. You might discover after a week that you didn’t love me at all and I was just a habit. Like smoking. Or vodka shots.’

  And, I added silently, that would make what I came here to tell you so much easier.

  He feigned pensive thought, then nodded. ‘You could be right. It took me a while to realise vodka shots were not the route to happiness.’

  ‘Vince,’ I said, serious again, ‘Please go.’

  ‘Why are you so insistent?’

  It had to be now. ‘Because I’m pregnant.’

  The jokes, the conversation, the world changed. His head reeled back liked he’d been slapped.

  ‘You’re… is it mine?’

  I’d known he would ask. Of course he would. And it broke my heart that there was a tiny hint of hope in his question.

  ‘No,’ I whispered. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s not. I’m only about two months gone.’ It was October now. We’d been together in May, five months ago. There was no question. ‘It’s Colm’s baby.’

  He closed his eyes for a long moment before he went on. ‘I hope he realizes how lucky he is to get this life, Shauna. You, a baby… that’s an amazing future right there.’

  He leaned over, gently slipped his hand onto my neck and then leaned over and kissed me
lightly on the lips.

  ‘Congratulations, honey. I’m so glad you got your wish.’

  I knew he meant every word. Just as I meant every word later, when I told him I loved him and walked away, knowing that I’d never see him again.

  I did love him. As a friend, a partner, a person.

  But I was in love with Colm and our child. Our child. Mine and his.

  In a perfect world, Vincent would have different feelings and we’d have been able to carry on working together, seeing each other every day, rubbing along as we built our company – but you couldn’t have everything and I’d take what I’d just been given over everything else. A proper family.

  I was choosing a new life… and that meant knowing when it was the right time to say goodbye.

  41

  2016

  The Hospital

  Less than half an hour after I’d left Jess’s house, I burst through the doors of Hammersmith Hospital’s A&E department and saw my mother, directly ahead, sitting alone in the midst of a pile up of cuts, bruises, wounds and wails. Despite the chaos, she sat ramrod straight, staring forward, ignoring the human suffering around her. Her stoic isolation was almost pitiful.

  I dashed across the room, but when I got to her side, realized I didn’t know what to do. We’d never been a ‘hugging’ family. We didn’t do sharing of emotion or demonstrations of affection. I’d never seen her stricken like this, and I had no idea of how to respond. After a hesitation, I sat down beside her and put my hand on her arm. ‘Mum, what happened? Is he okay? What’s going on?’

  It was just a little movement at first, a slight undulation, then it became a steady pendulum of pain as she rocked backwards and forwards, no tears, no wails, her voice still strong, carried by the momentum of her sway. I could see a man in the next row watching us with interest – this middle-aged woman, perfectly groomed with her blonde bob, pink jeans and chic leather jacket, looking woefully out of place in this setting. Beside her, an exhausted companion, all dressed in black, displaying confusion and awkward body language.

  She finally answered my question.

  ‘They’re working on him now. They say it was a heart attack. Unresponsive in the ambulance. No way of knowing how he’ll be.’

  Still staring forward, no emotion, just backwards, forwards, backwards. I’d never seen her upset before, so close to dissolving that pristine, impenetrable façade.

  ‘Mum, it’s okay,’ I told her. ‘He’s going to be fine.’ Of course he was. My dad was what? Sixty-four years old? Sixty-five? It was a sad indictment of our relationship that I couldn’t recall his age. He was still a fit, healthy strong man. This must be a pulled muscle. A faint. Something simple. Not a heart attack. No way.

  ‘What was he doing it happened? Was he on the golf course?’

  She turned to look at me, her expression very strange, like I should already know or like it was obvious. At least she’d stopped rocking. I felt a pang of regret. Or perhaps it was resolve. After this was all over, I really had to talk to her and my father, find out what was happening in their lives. I don’t think we’d had any more that a four-sentence conversation in the last ten years.

  I realized she’d answered me, but it was a whisper that I didn’t quite catch.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘He was with his girlfriend,’ she said, perfectly calmly. Oh God. This couldn’t be good. Lulu had told me years ago that our parents were no longer sharing partners, but that must have changed again. Bugger, Lulu’s mum must be traumatized. I really hoped that when it happened they weren’t in the middle of having… urgh, I couldn’t finish the thought.

  ‘So where’s Gwen now?’ I asked.

  My mother stared back blankly. Damn, she was totally altered by this.

  ‘Gwen? Gwen isn’t here.’

  ‘But you said…’

  ‘I know what I said,’ she snapped. ‘He was with his girlfriend. She’s over there.’

  Oh for Christ’s sake. Not only did she have to deal with my dad being ill, but his bloody girlfriend was here too. I looked around for Gwen. Lulu would go crazy at her mum for this and I had a good mind to tell her to piss off.

  ‘Gwen? Where is she?’

  My mother flinched, then a sad smile. “Not Gwen. That seems like so long ago.” Her tone suddenly hardened. ‘Her replacement.’

  Well this was news.

  Slowly, perplexed, my head turned in the direct of her stare and there was… no.

  No way. This couldn’t be right. On unsteady legs, I got up, crossed the room to where she was sitting, on her own in the corner, bent forward, her arms around her stomach as if she was hugging herself. I hadn’t even noticed her before. Now, she looked up at me, eyes pleading, apologetic, scared.

  ‘Rosie?’ A question, born out of incomprehension. Then realization. ‘You’re my dad’s girlfriend?’

  ‘Shauna, I’m so sorry, please…’ Begging now. I tried to sit, but it was more of a fall into the seat beside her.

  ‘Oh dear God. I don’t believe this. You’re seeing my dad.’ No longer a question. An accusation. A pissed off, outraged, furious accusation. ‘Since when?’

  ‘About fifteen years ago.’

  If she’d revealed she was shagging Brad Pitt I wouldn’t have been any more shocked than I was now.

  ‘It was at their anniversary party. Their twenty-fifth. You were there with Colm.’

  I flicked through the memories in my mind, turning back time.

  ‘But I saw him with Gwen that night.’

  She nodded. ‘We got talking later, and that grew into… something.’

  No. This didn’t make sense. It just didn’t. Another flashback. Rosie and my dad dancing, a crowd around them, her flushed face as she rejoined us. That was the start of something that had lasted fifteen years? I tried again to understand.

  ‘But, Rosie, all the guys you’ve met since then? You so wanted things to work out with them.’

  She sighed, sadness enveloping her like a thick cloud.

  ‘I did. Jeff said…’

  My mind interrupted with a scream. Jeff? Jeff? Not bloody Jeff. My dad. MY DAD! The thought didn’t make it out of my mouth.

  ‘…that he would never leave Debbie.’

  My mum. MY FRIGGING MUM! Again, my objection was only on the inside.

  ‘So I went out with other guys. Jeff wanted it that way, didn’t want me to be sitting at home waiting for him. So I didn’t. And every time I met someone I wanted it to be the one who would make me want to change this, the one that I’d love more that Jeff. I tried so hard to make that happen, but it never did. I always loved him more,’ she whispered.

  Another memory raised its head. Jack, at Rosie’s party, telling us he thought she was seeing someone else. He’d been right and we’d dismissed that theory out of hand. He’d sensed it, while we’d remained absolutely clueless. Fools. Fucking fools. How had we missed it?

  ‘I’m sorry Shauna, but I couldn’t tell you.’

  I understood that. How did you even start that conversation? ‘Hey chum, we’ve been best mates forever but guess what? I’m shagging your dad.’

  This was surreal. It felt like I had been transported to a parallel universe or the set of a TV show, anywhere other than my own life. How should I react to this? What was the accepted response? I plunged to the depths of my emotional reservoir and came up with…. Nothing. Numb confusion.

  All these years of friendship, based on a lie. We’d shared every aspect of our lives, lived like sisters, and all the while I’d no idea there were shades of incest going on.

  My father. Rosie. This wasn’t some cute Michael Douglas/Catherine Zeta Jones twenty-five-year age difference love match. This was my dad and my best bloody friend.

  ‘Do you hate me?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m not sure I know how to feel. My relationship with my dad has always been… complicated.’ A bitter laugh escaped this time. ‘Who am I kidding? It wasn’t complicated, it was non-existent. There was n
o love there, Rosie. Not like a normal mum and dad. Sometimes I think that the only good thing to come out of my relationship with them was that their indifference made me tough, independent. I’m not sure I could have coped with everything that’s happened to us if I wasn’t as strong.’

  She didn’t respond, let me ramble on until I wasn’t sure if I was talking to her or myself. I took it back to her.

  ‘But that’s what I don’t get, Rosie. All these years you’ve listened to me talk about him, you’ve watched how he treated me, saw what that did and yet you were screwing him?’

  That was the betrayal, right there. He’d hurt me. Ignored me. Made me feel that I didn’t matter. And she’d rewarded him for treating me that way by loving him? Sleeping with him? How could she do that?

  Nausea overwhelmed me and I fought it back until I could speak again.

  ‘I just can’t believe I didn’t see it. Does my mum know how long it’s been going on?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Bloody hell. ‘She’s always known?’

  Rosie shook her head. ‘Not right at the start. Back then she was in a thing with Lulu’s dad. Now there’s someone else. Her personal trainer.’ My mum and Lulu’s dad. So it had been a full-scale wife swap situation. Lulu and I hadn’t sussed that one.

  ‘Welcome to my family, people,’ I said, utterly depressed by the thought. ‘I’ll never understand why they stay together.’

  Rosie’s whole face crumpled. ‘Jeff says they love each other. They just don’t consider sex to be part of that. He loves me too, but there’s a loyalty to Debbie that he won’t break. They’ll never separate; never break up the lives they’ve built. I don’t understand it either, but I’ve learned to accept it.’

  ‘So you’re going to go through the rest of your life waiting for him? Always being second choice? Being on your own while they’re pissing off to Marbella every second month?’