by Nikki Ashton
Sheila sighed deeply. “No, she’s not seeing anyone else. She doesn’t want to, but you’d know that if you just talked to her.” Kelvin opened his mouth as if to speak, but Sheila carried on quickly. “Don’t say anything Kelvin, you know as well as I do you are the one who is holding all the trump cards. She asked you last week to go home for Christmas, but you wouldn’t. She isn’t going out as much now you know?” Kelvin shook his head. “No, well that’s what happens when you won’t even speak to her. I’m not saying this because she’s my daughter; you know I’ve supported you throughout all of this, which isn’t easy when it’s your flesh and blood, but I think it’s time that you went home and tried to sort things out.” Sheila threw the knife into the sink and leaned against it, with her head down and looking toward the floor below.
“I’m scared Sheila, what if things don’t change, then me being here has been a waste of time?” Kelvin now bent his head next to Sheila’s. “I couldn’t bear that,” he whispered.
Sheila stood upright. “Well if you don’t go after New Year, I’ll be kicking you out, then you’ll have to go home, because I’m sure that you don’t want to go to your own mothers.” She turned to him speaking more kindly now. “Kelvin love, think about what she’s gone through over the last couple of years, her dad, the baby everything.” Sheila suddenly looked sad as she remembered losing Malcolm.
“I’m sorry Sheila; I know that this must be hard for you, caught in the middle. I promise that I’ll make an effort today and then tomorrow I’ll think about what you’ve said.” Kelvin smiled at her, grateful for the support that she had given him.
Sheila nodded silently. “Right, let’s get those veggies on the go,” she said quickly, as Kerry came back into the room.
“H-h-how is she?” Kelvin asked; the first sentence that he put together for his wife in weeks.
Kerry, taken aback, smiled. “She’s asleep, but she wouldn’t go until I’d sung Blue Moon to her.” They both laughed recalling Charlotte’s method of getting Esme to sleep.
“Do you want a drink?” Kelvin felt like a child on his first date, rather than talking with the woman who had given birth to his child.
“Can I have a diet coke please, is there anything that you want me to do Mum?” To hide her shyness, Kerry went over to her Mum at the cooker.
“Oh it sounds like Michael is here. Could you let them in for me?” Sheila smiled at Kelvin, and mouthed the words “thank you," as Kerry went towards the door.
“Hello sis, how are you? Merry Christmas.” Michael enveloped Kerry into a big bear hug, kissing her on the head.
Thank God for Michael, thought Kerry. Michael was the eldest of the four siblings, Kerry, being the youngest and only girl was his favourite. No matter what she did as a child he always stuck up for her, and he still did. Although he felt for Kelvin, he could never let Kerry know that he thought that she was in the wrong, she was his little sister, and he would protect her at all times.
“Merry Christmas Michael, hello Sarah, Merry Christmas.” Kerry kissed them both, happy to see them. “Mum is in the kitchen, with Kelvin.”
“Where’s my beautiful niece then?” Sarah asked, her eyes bright with expectancy. Sarah couldn’t have children, and so she and Michael doted on Esme. Andrew and Steven, Kerry’s other brothers both had boys, making Esme extra special.
“She’s asleep, sorry,” Kerry shrugged an apology. “She doesn’t seem too well, she explained.
“It's nothing serious though is it? Shall I check on her?” Sarah asked.
“Don’t you ever stop working Nurse Taylor?” Kerry laughed at her sister-in-law, giving her a gentle hug.
“Not where my little niece is concerned, no I don’t. Anyway,” she whispered, “how are things between you and Kelvin?” She cupped Kerry’s chin gently.
“Okay, not too bad at least we are talking a little more. And Mum has given me a good talking to.” Kerry smiled.
Michael gave a huge grin. “Oh dear, Mummy speaks, anyway, where is the old darling?”
“I heard that Michael Taylor, you are not too big for a smacked bottom. Merry Christmas love and you too Sarah,” she said, hugging them both tightly.
Kelvin who had stood back, now came forward in trepidation, he knew how Mike and Sarah felt about Kerry and wasn’t sure what reception he would get, even though it wasn’t his fault. He needn’t have worried; he got the same bear hug as Kerry, and so everyone relaxed and started to enjoy the day.
Later, that day, over at the Price house, Bets was enjoying Christmas day with Charlotte and all her family, strictly it was Kerry’s turn to have her over, but under the circumstances, Bets thought that descending on them with party hats and mince pies would be slightly tactless! She felt like a maiden aunt, passed from pillar to post every year, but at least she didn’t have to eat a frozen turkey dinner with just Alfred for company. It was late afternoon and as usual, everyone had eaten too much, and was now drinking equally as much, Charlotte in particular. In fact, she hadn’t stopped drinking since the Palmer Insurance Christmas party, that Bets had accompanied her to on Saturday night. She sat on the armchair, watching Eastenders, hugging a large bottle of Lambrusco, a present to Bets from one of her clients. Bets looked at her sad little face and whispered to Tom, who was sitting next to her on the sofa.
“She’s going to be sick, if she’s not careful.”
“She’s already lovesick,” he hissed.
“I’ve not seen her like this for ages,” whispered Kathleen, from the other end of the sofa.
“Fancy getting like that over a bloody Irishman,” moaned Ken, who wouldn't ever forgive George Best for not signing for Manchester City.
“Will you take her out and find her, a bloke or something?” Tom asked, still staring at the T.V.
“Hmm, maybe Amanda will invite someone nice to her party.” Kathleen smiled, thinking of the possibility of matchmaking for her youngest daughter.
“Oh no,” whispered Bets to Tom. “I’d better warn Amanda, and Charlotte for that matter.”
“Will you shut up and let me watch this please. He’s trying to tell her he loves her.” Charlotte’s sudden stage whisper surprised them all.
“Sorry,” was the unison reply.
They sat for a few more minutes until they heard the familiar drum beats of the theme tune, and visibly relaxed. No one was allowed to speak when Charlotte was watching her favourite soap opera, especially when she was feeling sad or unhappy, it gave her reason to wallow.
“Does anyone want to play a game of something?” Tom asked brightly, trying to lighten Charlotte’s mood. He got no response from her, just nods from everyone else.
Kathleen took Bets to one side. “If we play on the coffee table right in front of her she’ll have no option but to join in eventually. I’ll get the nibbles.”
Bets groaned again. It had only been two hours since lunch, and she was absolutely stuffed, but what the hell, it was Christmas and you couldn’t refuse Kathleen. She went back into the living room and sat upon the arm of Charlotte’s chair.
“Are you going to play Charlotte?”
Charlotte shook her head. “No, I’m watching telly.”
Bets didn’t know what else to do; Charlotte was fine all day, laughing and joking through lunch. However, the more she drank the more morose she got and by the time her favourite T.V. programme came on she was practically suicidal.
Charlotte had telephoned Bets as soon as she had got home on the evening of the kiss and had told her everything that had happened. She explained about Niall, about lunch and about “bloody Ingrid Cathcart." Bets had thought that she seemed okay, angry yes, but okay. But then, the following evening at Palmer’s Christmas party, she’d really gone to town about it all.
Charlotte was pretty sloshed by the time Bets had arrived in the hotel, which didn’t help matters. Paul had treated the staff to a night’s stay, and Charlotte had been there since she’d picked her car up earlier in the day, and since early evening
the mini bar took some hammering.
“Why say all those things to me Bets when he knew that nothing could come of it, you know he said I was sexy don’t you, and pretty?”
Bets was helping a very drunk, slurring, Charlotte up to their room after the party had finished. Luckily, she was quite well behaved, sitting steadily getting drunker by the minute. Bets knew that Charlotte was hurting, she was a morose drunk when she was deeply upset; Charlotte misbehaved badly when she was happily drunk.
“You said Charlotte, about a hundred times…come on lean on there while I push the lift button.” She propped Charlotte against the reception desk.
“I should have stayed hating him, but no, he flatters me and wins me over with lasagne, chips and lager, the shit head. Oh God, why is he so gorgeous Bets, why can’t he be ugly like, oh, I don’t know, let’s say Bobby…ooh hi Bobby, hi Judith?” Charlotte’s hand covered her mouth as she tried to suppress a giggle.
“Night Charlotte,” muttered Bobby. He had seen Charlotte drunk before, and decided to walk upstairs and not share a lift with her.
“Night,” sing songed Charlotte. “Miserable prat!”
“CHARLOTTE!” Bets scolded Charlotte, as she stabbed her finger once more at the lift button.
“Well he is.”
“Maybe, but you shouldn’t shout it out. It may come as a shock to Judith.” Both Bets and Charlotte burst into fits of giggles.
Just then the lift finally arrived, and Bets and Charlotte peered inside. Rob and Laura were in a state of undress on the floor. They stopped momentarily to gaze up at their audience.
“Are you going up?” Bets asked, exasperated.
“I think he already has!” Charlotte exploded into fits of laugher, as she fell inside.
Since that night, Charlotte had only stopped drinking to sleep. When Bets had arrived at eleven o’clock on Christmas morning to find her sober, she was really pleased. Bets thought that Charlotte had obviously got Niall out of her system, but she was patently wrong. Charlotte had refused to play Operation with them, but just tutted every time one of them had set the buzzer off. Then when the second instalment of Eastenders had started she had taken herself into another room to watch it and to partake in some quiet sobbing into a cushion. Bets had eventually followed her to try to get Charlotte to re-join the land of the living. Charlotte, sobbing silently, ignored her.
“Charlotte, what is the matter?”
“It’s just so sad,” she cried, pointing at the screen.
“Charlotte, they are teenagers, and it’s not real. Why don’t you come and play Buckaroo with us?”
Charlotte shook her head. “No, there’s ten minutes left.”
Bets gave up, and shaking her head, re-joined everyone else, already getting ready for the next game.
“Well, is she coming back in?” Tom asked.
“Maybe, when it's finished in ten minutes.” Bets picked up her wine and took a large swig.
“Perhaps Kerplunk will change her mind.” Kathleen tottered away in the new fluffy, pink slippers that Tom had given to her as a joke, but unfortunately, she loved.
“Ooh, that’s bound to change her mind,” Ken sighed, not un-sarcastically. “I’m going to see a man about a dog.” He wandered off through the patio doors for his usual alfresco wee.
“Oh God,” sighed Tom. “I didn’t realise that she liked this bloke that much. A furtive snog wasn’t it?” He took a drink from his can and shrugged his shoulders.
“You know Charlotte. A furtive snog can mean everything to her; she’s a romantic through and through.”
“Hmm, maybe. At least, he hasn’t dropped dead on her, now that is something to cry about.” Tom’s smile was sympathetic as he looked at Bets.
Bets grinned back and threw a cushion at him. “You are such an agony aunt aren’t you?”
“I know I’m all heart. Seriously, though, I haven’t seen her like this since Grant, and look what a dick head he was?”
“Well whatever, she’s obviously cut up about it, and we should try to help her get through it.” Bet’s brow furrowed. “She’s always there for everyone else don’t forget.”
Tom stood up and catching hold of Bet’s hand pulled her up. “You’re right, come on let’s make her some coffee and rescue her from Mum before she decides to watch 'Gone with the Wind' or 'Dirty Dancing' again.”
Meanwhile, Kerry and Kelvin were washing up the supper dishes while everyone else sat in the living room chatting. Michael, who had been helping Kelvin, had mysteriously disappeared and sent Kerry in as a reserve.
“How did your work’s do go then?” Kerry was careful not to look at him so that he couldn’t see the jealousy in her eyes.
“Oh okay, I left about ten o'clock. I just wasn’t in the mood, and Beth was getting a lift with Richard, so I didn’t need to stay.” Kelvin passed her another plate to dry.
“Beth? Is that the girl whom you told me about?”
“Yeah, she’s going out with Richard, actually they are moving in together next week. She's a nice girl.”
The rest of the house seemed silent. All Kerry could hear was her heart hammering inside her chest; surely, Kelvin must hear it too; it was so loud? She licked her lips nervously, aware that the next answer she got could mean the end to her marriage.
“Kelvin, please will you come home? I’m going to see the doctor and get some help I don’t want to be like this, I just…”
“Ssh, it doesn’t matter you don’t have to tell me anything.” He still didn’t touch her, or look at her, but Kerry could tell by his voice that his face was kind.
“I do have to tell you, you’re my husband, and I love you.”
Now he turned towards her. “I know you do and I love you,” he said, “but I need you to feel better first before we decide anything. Look, I think that Esme should be with you, so how about you take her home, and I’ll stay with Russ for a few weeks, he has offered and I can’t stay with your mum for much longer.” He dried his hands with the tea towel in Kerry’s hands, the most contact they’d had for a long time.
“If that’s what you want,” Kerry replied, “but I need you to know that I haven’t felt right for months, sort of sad and lonely and frightened.”
“Frightened, frightened of what?” he asked incredulously.
“I don’t know,” Kerry answered honestly. “Maybe about getting old, or of having the huge responsibility of being a wife and a mother. I don’t know, all I know is I couldn’t cope. When I was going out all the time it was, as though I didn’t have all those things to worry about. I felt young and I'm ashamed to say; I forgot that I had a husband and a baby; I felt nineteen again. I suppose it sounds stupid to you. It should do because it sounds stupid to me now, but at the time it was important to me.”
Suddenly, Kelvin put a finger under her chin. “Hey come on,” he whispered. “The main thing is you want to put things right now. I know I’ve been a shit this last couple of weeks, but I’ve been frightened too, I was frightened this was it, and we weren’t going to make it, but that doesn’t mean I think we should rush things. You need to be absolutely certain that you want us to work, and not get back together just because it’s what’s safest for you. I promise you I will be there for you whatever, but just not at home, not until you are properly ready, okay?” He didn’t kiss her, but pulled her to him, folding his arms around her, while she sobbed silently into his chest.
Chapter 20
It was New Year’s Eve, and Kerry was on her way to Amanda’s party, alone. She had been hoping that Kelvin would go with her, since Christmas Day they’d been getting on a good deal better, talking a lot about the future and how they were going to put things right, then this morning happened. Kerry and Esme had gone over to see Kelvin at her mum’s house as Kelvin had arranged to stay with Russell and his wife for a while, and was moving out on Tuesday. Kerry thought that she would have one last go at persuading him to come home. When she arrived, Sheila informed her daughter that Kelvin was in h
is room packing the few belongings that he had with him. Kerry left Esme with Sheila and moved slowly upstairs to Kelvin’s room.
She knocked at the door hesitantly, waiting outside until she heard a muffled ‘come in’. Kelvin was attempting to fold a shirt, the collar of which was tucked beneath his chin while he struggled to get the arms together. Kerry smiled at his endeavours.
“Here give it to me, I’ll do it.” She took the shirt from him.
“Oh thanks, are you okay then?” Kelvin asked, pecking her on the cheek, in a friendly way; however, Kerry was even grateful for that.
“Hmm, but why are you packing now, I thought that you were going on Tuesday?” She asked placing the shirt in the suitcase with all his other clothes.
“Didn’t your mum tell you? I’m going today.” Kelvin moved away and started to collect his things from the dressing table, slotting them down the sides of his case.
“But you can’t its New Year’s Eve,” protested Kerry anxiously. “Why don’t you come home instead, why stay at Russell’s when you have a home of your own to go to?”
Kelvin didn’t look at her. “Kerry, we talked about this on Christmas Day. You have to be sure.”
“I am,” she whispered. “That’s why I’m here.”
Kelvin shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you hurt me, and I need to be sure too. You almost threw our marriage away, and I can’t risk coming home, and you doing it all over again. Don’t say you won’t, because until you get some help, you don’t know that. See the doctor and we’ll talk about it once more; I’m not coming back to be a baby-sitter for you when you start to feel the need to be young once again."” Sadness was now creeping into Kelvin’s voice.
His words were like a slap on the face to Kerry; his words on Christmas Day were obviously empty ones to appease her.
“So you didn’t mean what you said on Christmas Day then; that you understood how I felt?” Kerry thought aloud. “You don’t want to be there for me, and you didn’t believe me when I said that I loved you and wanted to put things right.” Her tone was quiet and measured. She gently placed a hand on his arm even though she wanted to shake him and make him go home with her.