If I Should Go (Novella)

by Amanda Brooke

  The weather wasn’t ideal for the fete; the sky more white than blue and the sun no more than a vague orb of light behind a veil of cloud. The flimsy dresses Rachel and Hope were wearing offered little protection against the chill and only Karen had had the foresight to wear a cardigan. After casting a glance at the brooding sky, her mum decided to retrieve an umbrella from the boot of her car before they all headed towards the rear of the care home where a large marquee had been erected. The sides were open and the occasional gust of wind made the crockery on the refreshments table rattle nervously.

  There was still half an hour to kill until Martin was due to arrive, but rather than find shelter, Hope insisted they brave the cold and pulled her mum in the direction of a bouncy castle.

  ‘Can I, Mummy?’ she asked in her sweetest voice.

  ‘I thought we agreed to wait until later?’

  ‘But Nana said it might rain later and then you won’t let me go on it at all!’

  Rachel wanted to say no but she was loath to sour Hope’s mood. ‘If you rip your dress then I won’t be responsible for my actions,’ she warned.

  ‘Thank you!’ Hope said, giving Rachel a quick hug before hopping towards the inflatable and pulling off her shoes at the same time.

  Rachel handed a coin over to Carol who was standing guard at the entrance. ‘That flash of pink was mine,’ she said.

  ‘I hope she hasn’t got her wand with her today, I don’t want to be turned into a frog again.’

  ‘All lethal weapons have been left at home,’ Karen assured her.

  They hung around chatting to Carol as they waited for Hope to exhaust herself. It didn’t take long for the conversation to turn to the topic of the moment. ‘Are you looking forward to meeting Rachel’s new boyfriend?’ Carol asked.

  ‘It’s about time, I suppose. You’ve met him, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I got to know him quite well when his mum was here,’ Carol said, casting a glance at Rachel who was on tenterhooks as she awaited the verdict. ‘And I think she’s done very well for herself. I’ll be sorry to lose her when she goes off to Liverpool but you can’t deny Martin’s a good influence. It’s about time she started thinking about putting that brain of hers to better use.’

  ‘If I go,’ Rachel corrected.

  ‘Martin would be a fool to let you slip through his fingers,’ Carol said.

  Karen sounded as doubtful as Rachel when she said, ‘It is a lot for her to take on though, don’t you think? She’s going to have her work cut out.’

  ‘But you can’t knock the girl for trying,’ Carol said, seeing the look of disappointment on Rachel’s face.

  Karen saw it too and tried to smile. ‘And if anyone can do it then my Rachel can,’ she said.

  When Hope emerged from the bouncy castle with bright red cheeks and a raging thirst, they said goodbye to Carol and made a beeline for the refreshments.

  ‘Am I taking on too much, mum?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘I’ll do everything I can to support you,’ Karen said by way of an answer. ‘All you have to do is ask.’

  They had wandered into the marquee and when Rachel gave Hope money for a drink, the little girl squeezed between a forest of legs to reach the refreshments stand. One pair of legs looked familiar even without the plaster cast.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Wilson,’ Rachel said, putting her hand on the old lady’s shoulder to get her attention. ‘Are you sure you should be up and about so soon?’

  Mrs Wilson turned around and smiled. ‘Oh, hello, Rachel. Mr Wainwright has kindly lent me his Zimmer frame,’ she explained. Seeing the look of suspicion on Rachel’s face, she added, ‘He won’t even notice it’s gone.’

  ‘Well, make sure you don’t overdo it,’ Rachel warned. ‘Mrs Wilson, I’d like you to meet my mum, Karen.’

  ‘Oh, please call me Bea,’ Mrs Wilson said brightly. ‘Everybody does.’

  Rachel would beg to differ but said nothing; she was simply happy to see her in such good spirits.

  ‘Hello, Bea!’ Hope said as she emerged from the throng holding a bottle of bright pink lemonade. ‘Isn’t your leg better yet?’

  Bea’s smile broadened as she leant on the Zimmer frame until she was at eye level with Hope. ‘Your magic wand worked wonders,’ she told her. ‘I only use this clunk of metal to slow me down; otherwise all the old fogies in here will be jealous.’

  ‘Do you like my new dress?’

  ‘I can see you take after your mum,’ Bea said. ‘Pretty in pink.’

  ‘And it’s still clean too,’ Hope said proudly.

  Rachel was about to warn her that it had better stay that way, when a hand slipped around her waist, startling her.

  ‘Martin,’ she said, her eyes opening wide. Her heart was hammering against her chest as she craned her neck to look up into Martin’s eyes, which were focused only on her. He was just over six foot, at least five inches taller than Rachel and a giant compared to the little girl whose eyes were just as wide though not quite as bright as her mother’s.

  Leaning forward, Martin went to give Rachel a kiss full on the lips but she turned her head at the last moment and the kiss was planted a little uncertainly on her cheek. When he pulled back, he cleared his throat as he looked from Rachel to Karen to Bea. ‘Hello, everyone,’ he said.

  Rachel’s mouth was dry as she introduced her mum then Bea. She had to prise Hope from her hiding place behind her nan before announcing, ‘And this gorgeous girl is my daughter, Hope.’

  ‘Hello,’ Hope whispered as she looked up briefly into the eyes of the stranger who insisted on being so friendly to her mum.

  ‘Hello, Hope. It’s very nice to see you again.’ He glanced at Rachel who smiled and willed him on. He coughed nervously before adding, ‘I have a little present for you.’

  He offered up a gift bag which, under other circumstances, Hope would have dived into, but it took further encouragement from Rachel before she tentatively accepted the present. Pulling out layers of tissue paper, Hope uncovered a silk bag with pink roses, matching her dress perfectly. ‘What do you say, Hope?’ Rachel asked as she took the discarded wrappings from her daughter.

  The little girl’s features gave subtle clues to her inner turmoil as she thanked Martin. Her jaw was set firmly to resist a smile but her eyes had sparkled at the sight of the bag. Rachel began to relax for the first time that day. She had bought the bag with the dress and only at the last minute came up with the idea to let Martin give it to her. It had been a stroke of genius.

  Martin began to relax too. ‘It’s lovely meeting you all.’

  ‘And you too,’ Karen said, with a smile that was as close to genuine as she could manage. ‘We were just about to get a hot drink if you’d like to join us.’

  Martin raised a hand and for a moment Rachel thought he would refuse; that it wouldn’t occur to him that it was more an offer of friendship than a drink. ‘I’ll get them,’ he said. ‘Would you like tea or coffee?’

  Rachel and Karen placed their orders but when he turned to Bea she shook her head. ‘I’d better get this contraption back to Mr Wainwright before he has an accident.’

  They were about to move when Martin realised he had forgotten someone. ‘Would you like anything, Hope?’

  ‘I’ve got this,’ she said quietly, lifting up the bottle and twisting the cap. Pink lemonade bubbled, fizzed and, with a violent hiss, showered the entire group.

  ‘Hope!’ Rachel cried, grabbing the bottle to twist the top back on.

  When peace returned, Karen shook drops of lemonade from her cardigan, Martin wiped at damp spots on his beige chinos and Bea licked droplets from her fingers. All eyes turned to Hope who was drenched from head to foot, tears welling in her eyes.

  ‘I think you should have let your mum open that,’ Martin offered helpfully.

  The first tear broke loose and dissolved into the river of lemonade streaming down Hope’s face.

  Karen found a tissue and she and Rachel knelt down to begin what was a futile
attempt to dry the girl and her tears. ‘It’s all right,’ Rachel said. ‘It was only an accident.’

  Hope’s lip trembled. ‘I want to go home.’

  ‘I can take you inside the house and put your dress in one of the dryers if you want.’

  ‘I want to go home.’

  Karen took off her cardigan and wrapped it around Hope’s shoulders. ‘Let Mummy and me have a cuppa first and then we’ll see how you feel.’

  Realising she was fighting a losing battle, Hope simply nodded.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Rachel asked, turning to Bea.

  ‘Oh, a little lemon-flavoured water never harmed anyone. I’ll count it as one of my five a day. Why don’t you have a nice hot chocolate, Hope?’ she suggested. ‘That might warm you up.’

  Hope tried to smile.

  ‘I can see you’re a very smart young lady and I should know, I used to be a teacher,’ Bea said. ‘In my experience, we learn far more from our mistakes than we do from getting things right first time. We learn to hold our heads high and carry on and I can tell that’s exactly what you’re thinking of doing.’ She added a wink to cement the idea in the little girl’s mind.

  To Rachel’s surprise, Hope winked back, squeezing out the last of her tears before taking a long look at the mess she had made. Her dress was mottled with dark stains, as was the matching bag, but her eyes settled on the half empty bottle of lemonade her mum was now holding. ‘I think I’ve learned that I don’t like pink any more,’ she announced.

  Rachel’s jaw dropped as an image came to mind of her daughter’s bedroom with its pastel-pink walls, rose-coloured curtains and a wardrobe stuffed with clothes covering every shade in the pink spectrum.

  ‘So what’s your new favourite colour?’ Bea asked.

  Preoccupied by the green cardigan she was using to cover up her stained party dress, Hope said, ‘Number eight.’

  Martin was the only one to laugh. ‘She asked you what your favourite colour was,’ he said.

  Hope glared at him. ‘It’s number eight.’

  ‘Right answer, Hope,’ Bea said quickly, giving her another wink.

  While Karen took her granddaughter to find an empty table, Mrs Wilson held Rachel back for a moment. ‘Did you know you’re daughter has synaesthesia?’

  ‘Synaes-what?’

  Seeing the look of alarm on Rachel’s face, Mrs Wilson added quickly, ‘Oh, it’s nothing to worry about, Rachel. Think of it as a curious quirk of the brain where the senses can overlap. A little misfiring, that’s all.’

  Martin had remained at Rachel’s side and spluttered as he asked, ‘Her daughter’s brain might be misfiring but Rachel shouldn’t worry?’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Rachel asked.

  ‘Honestly, it’s nothing bad,’ Bea said with a glare that wiped the derisive look off Martin’s face. ‘It affects people in different ways, some will associate a smell or taste with a particular visual stimuli, while others like Hope will see colours when they look at particular letters or numbers.’

  ‘That was why Hope needed the green crayon for her number eight,’ Rachel said, making her own connections.

  Mrs Wilson nodded. ‘I’ve met a few people in my time who’ve had it. I can recall one little boy who saw colours when he listened to music. It frightened him in some ways because he knew he was different, but once I explained how people with synaesthesia are often very creative, he began to appreciate what a gift he had. Last I heard he was a concert pianist. Just imagine how his music must play in his mind,’ she added wistfully.

  ‘And I thought you said you didn’t have any legacies,’ Rachel told her.

  It was impossible for Bea to argue and she was still smiling, a happy blush on her cheeks, when Rachel left to go in search of her gifted daughter.

  Rachel and Martin huddled around a small bistro table to the side of the marquee as they watched Karen take Hope for one last play on the bouncy castle. The dregs of their drinks were now cold and Rachel’s bare arms covered in goose bumps. Her teeth chattered but she wouldn’t go home until she felt able to declare Martin’s introduction into her family a success or, at the very least, less of a failure.

  Martin tried to smile but it was more of a grimace. ‘Your mum’s lovely,’ he assured her, ‘and Hope’s adorable, but maybe it was a bit too much to expect them to be happy about me coming in and upsetting the apple cart.’

  ‘It will get easier, I promise.’

  ‘Easier but not easy,’ Martin added. ‘I told you I’m hopeless with kids.’

  ‘You’re out of your comfort zone, I understand that but we have to do this, Martin.’

  He leaned in and whispered, ‘But I like my comfort zone, the one that involves you, me and the bedroom.’

  When he tried to kiss her, she pushed him away. ‘I’m trying to be serious, Martin!’

  He raised his hands in submission. ‘I know, I know and I promise I’ll do whatever you ask of me.’

  Rubbing her arms to force away the chill, she smiled. ‘In that case, how about having a go on the bouncy castle? It would certainly warm us up.’

  Martin went to laugh but caught the look in her eyes. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’

  Rachel’s courage wavered. ‘OK, maybe not in this dress, but I am tempted. I don’t know what it is about you, Martin but you make me feel so young again.’ She leaned in towards him and he met her half way so their noses were almost touching.

  ‘You are young, and beautiful, and clever. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you. I love you, Rae.’

  When she kissed him, the intensity of Rachel’s desire provided fleeting warmth to her body but then she pulled back and glanced over her shoulder self consciously. Her mum was on her way back over.

  ‘Bea turned up and said she’d keep an eye on Hope until she’s jumped herself dry,’ Karen explained.

  ‘Those two are becoming firm friends,’ Rachel said, trying not to look at Martin or make a comparison.

  There was an awkward silence as everyone tried to think of something to say. To Rachel’s surprise, it was Martin who spoke first. ‘Do you think she’ll ever accept me?’ he asked Karen.

  ‘It’s early days,’ she said a little too brightly. ‘Just take it slowly and you’ll be fine.’

  Rachel noticed Martin shift uncomfortably. ‘What?’ she asked.

  He looked furtively at his phone which was lying face down on the table. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything yet but I had an email from Rob this morning. He’s my business partner,’ Martin explained to Karen. ‘There’s a new contract coming up that would be perfect for us but it would mean starting up the business that bit sooner.’

  ‘Including the move to Liverpool?’ Rachel asked.

  When he nodded, Karen asked the question that was on the tip of her daughter’s tongue. ‘How soon?’

  ‘This side of Christmas.’

  Rachel’s pulse began to race. She knew she was ready but she needed more time to sell her dream to her family. Martin and Karen were both looking for her reaction. She tried to swallow but her throat was dry. ‘It’s sooner than I would have liked.’

  ‘But on the bright side, it means you could start that accountancy course in Liverpool in October. No correspondence course, no waiting until next year.’

  ‘But what about Hope?’ Karen asked. She sounded desperate.

  Martin bit his lip. ‘I won’t lie to you, Karen. I am worried. As well as getting used to me, she’d have to start a new school, make a new group of friends.’ He looked over towards the bouncy castle where Hope had yet to re-emerge. ‘It won’t be easy for her. Especially now this synaesthesia thing has cropped up.’

  ‘What?’ Karen asked.

  Rachel did her best to relay the information Bea had shared earlier. ‘It’s just a quirk, that’s all,’ she concluded.

  ‘I still think you need to look into it more,’ Martin said, but then shrugged as he added, ‘Although in the scheme of things it’s not going to be one of her biggest
challenges. Do you think she’ll cope with so much change all at once?’

  He had directed his question to Rachel but it was Karen who answered. ‘That offer still stands,’ she said. ‘If you want time to get settled in Liverpool then I don’t mind if Hope stays in Sedgefield with me.’

  Rachel was too stunned to answer and even Martin was shaking his head as he said, ‘It’s a kind offer, Karen, and even though I can see how it might work, it’s Rachel’s decision.’ He turned to give his girlfriend his full attention. ‘And you’ve already said you won’t consider leaving her. I don’t blame you; in fact I admire you for it. I may not be a father but I know how strong that bond is between a mother and her child; nothing should come between the two of you, not even me.’

  The external temperature was nothing compared to the stab of ice-cold fear Rachel felt in her heart. She wanted to make everyone happy but had a sickening feeling that there was no perfect fit for Martin in their lives. There were sacrifices that would have to be made and she was full of self-loathing when she heard herself say, ‘Maybe it could work.’

  4

  Rachel closed her eyes and listened to the sound of the trees swaying in the gentlest of breezes. The warm air enveloping her had undertones of rose and freshly cut grass.

  ‘I could stay here all day,’ she said, stretching her legs out in front of her and leaning back against the bench. She waited for a response and when none came she opened her eyes and turned to Bea. ‘Whereas you on the other hand, can’t wait to leave.’

  Mrs Wilson was looking across the lawn, her gaze cutting through the veil of rambling roses and the wall behind it towards some place out of view. She was reluctant to return to the present but said, ‘I’ve been counting down the days.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re ready?’

  ‘Yes, I’m ready, although,’ she added with a half-smile, ‘I can’t say I won’t have a few regrets.’

  There had been a noticeable change in Mrs Wilson during her stay at Sunny Days; her bones had mended, she had regained some weight and even though she hadn’t exactly made friends, she had learned to tolerate her fellow residents. For a while Rachel had lost sight of the woman she had first met, the one who had all but given up on life, but at moments like this, she could see the shadows wrapping around Mrs Wilson like a shroud.