by Katie Ginger
Nell’s heart sank even further in her chest, shrivelling with pain. She didn’t want to lose Mr Scrooge. She liked having him around. She’d begun to think of him as her cat, cuddling up with him at night, but she couldn’t keep him if he belonged to someone else. It wouldn’t be right. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she said, ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Thanks. Is three o’clock okay?’
‘Yes, fine. See you then.’
Nell drove down the long road that ran the length of the seafront, sucking in her emotions. Last night’s episode with Tom, her worries for Cat, and now facing the loss of Mr Scrooge, made it all feel hopeless. In between the little wooden beach huts, she spied the sea, a calm blanket of pale grey, barely distinguishable from the sky above. The windscreen steamed up from her warm breath mixed with the freezing air inside, and as she entered the town centre where houses, already decorated with looming inflatable Santas, snowmen and reindeer, gave way to pubs, shops and boutiques, she drove around the main roundabout – the one where Tom had his accident – and on towards the car park.
Being reminded of his so-called prang also reminded her of the accident with his finger, and of his strange behaviour last night. He hadn’t been around as much and when he had he’d acted so differently. She’d seen in his eyes that something wasn’t right. All she wanted was to talk to him and find out what was bothering him and explain about Harry dancing with her. Her cheeks flushed again with the discomfort of embarrassment. But speaking to Tom would have to wait until she’d dealt with Cat. Nell swerved the car into the first available parking space and shot out. After throwing money impatiently into the machine, she stuck the ticket on the window and walked around the corner to Raina’s.
Cat, her eyes puffy, her beautiful pink hair tied in a messy ponytail and remnants of make-up smudged under her eyes, sat at a table in the window. She looked devastated, like her spirit had been broken. With a quick check for Brenda, who thankfully was nowhere to be seen, Nell ripped open the door and threw herself into the chair, grabbing hold of Cat’s hands and squeezing them tight. ‘Whatever has happened, honey? We can fix it, okay? Is it the wedding?’ Cat nodded and Nell felt her face fall as her fears broke the floodgates. ‘Is it off?’
Cat’s head shot up, completely horrified. ‘What? No!’
‘Thank God. Then what the heck’s happening?’
‘I stood up to Mum.’
‘You did?’ Nell couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘I want to know everything. Actually, wait, we need tea for this.’ She nipped to the counter and ordered two teas and a large slice of an amazing-looking chocolate mousse cake from Lexi. She looked fabulous in a Fifties-style dress with her dark hair swept into a headscarf. A small Christmas tree at the end of the counter had been decorated with all sorts of homemade decorations. There was a star made out of lolly sticks and snowmen made from toilet roll tubes and cotton wool. It was wonderful. Nell guessed some of the decorations had been made by Lexi’s kids and in her mind, she jotted a mental note to run an event for kids next year. Before long she was back at the table and Lexi followed with the plates of cake and sweet vintage pots of tea.
‘So, what happened?’ asked Nell, her voice full of pride that Cat had done what they all knew she needed too. The lights in the window behind Cat twinkled against the grey gloom as she shrugged off her coat.
Cat wiped her eyes with her sleeve. ‘So, after we rowed last night, Kieran and I left.’
‘I’m sorry if I was harsh,’ Nell said, cupping her tea.
‘No, you were right. I was being stupid. It’s just that with Mum passive aggressively controlling the wedding—’
‘It’s more kind of aggressive-aggressive.’
‘Exactly. With Mum being a giant control freak I just got so stressed out. She was moaning about everything and going on and on at me until I changed things. She’d say things like, “I just think you should reconsider blah, blah, blah”. She’d even ring me up when she knew I was working. Part of me thought it was because she knew I’d agree to get her off the phone.’
‘It must have been so hard for you.’ Nell took her hand and squeezed it.
‘I know I should have stood up to her at the start, but I didn’t and it just kind of snowballed from there. I love Kieran so much, but when I was …’ Nell could see she was struggling to say the words out loud. Tears formed again in her eyes and her face washed with guilt. ‘When I was being silly with Niall, who didn’t flirt with me by the way, he’s just really friendly and tried to make me feel better about Mum, I just felt like my old self again. Last night I really didn’t mean to flirt. But when you said how it looked to you and Kieran, you made me realise how stupid and selfish I was being. When I said yes to marrying Kieran it was honestly the happiest day of my life and I’ve never wanted anything more. Then Mum started stealing all my enjoyment of it and everything else in my life. She’d argue with everything – literally everything – down to my bloody underwear. I want to wear my own pants on my wedding day. Is that too much to ask?’ She took a sip of her tea, both of them too caught up in this moment to even think about cake. ‘Last night when Kieran told me how scared he was that I didn’t love him anymore, I knew I’d let things go on for too long. I love him and I’d never hurt him. This morning, I told Kieran that I wanted us to go and visit Mum and tell her that we’re going to have the wedding we want, and she can’t control it anymore.’
Relief and surprise caused Nell’s emotions to swell. ‘And how did that go?’
Cat looked up, her eyes welling with tears again. ‘About as well as can be expected. She called me an ungrateful child, told me she was doing all of this to help me and that if I wasn’t going to appreciate her, she wouldn’t help anymore. Dad had to basically physically restrain her and now she’s stomped off to bed with a headache. I never wanted to hurt Mum and maybe if I’d been stronger right back when we went wedding dress shopping, I’d have set the tone and stopped us all getting hurt. Her heart’s in the right place but she’s taken it all too far. Even Dad told me I’d done the right thing. He said Mum was tying herself up in knots too.’
‘And how’s Kieran now?’
Happiness spread over Cat’s face as she beamed. ‘He’s really pleased. He said he wanted to help but he was too afraid to get involved and I kept pushing him away. I told him I was worried that if he got involved then the wedding prep and our special day would turn into a warzone. Mum has been pretty terrifying. But we’re going to do it together now. We’re going to go back through the list of what’s been organised and make sure we’re happy with it. As the wedding is at the hotel, and you know what we like, we were kind of hoping we could sort most of it between the four of us. I know there’s only a week to go, do you think we have time to put things right?’
‘Of course we do,’ Nell replied enthusiastically. It would be a challenge, but if they all worked together there was no reason why not. But the four of them also meant Tom and she had no idea how to talk to him or what to say at the moment. ‘I love you, you crazy bird.’
‘I love you, too. I’m sorry I’ve been such a pain in the bum.’ Cat pulled her cake towards her. ‘How did it go with Tom?’
Nell sighed heavily. ‘It didn’t. He was weird and standoffish last night. It was like he wanted nothing more than to get away from me. Then he saw Harry dancing with me and just left. And you’re right by the way. I’ve been living my love life in my head instead of in reality. I don’t know why. It just seemed safer somehow.’
Cat eyed Nell then her cake, but didn’t take a bite. ‘I think your imagination is a wonderful thing, and we all love that about you, but like with me and Mum, it’s about taking control and not letting it control you.’
‘You’re so wise,’ Nell teased. ‘So, what’s first on the wedding list?’
Cat forked a tiny piece of the chocolate mousse cake into her mouth and savoured it. Nell did the same, waiting for her response. ‘The one thing I don’t think I can fix – my wedding dres
s.’ Cat pushed the plate of delicious food away. ‘I shouldn’t really be eating this, the bloody thing is tight enough as it is, even with my horrendously unsexy suck-it-all-in-and-not-let-me-breathe underwear.’
‘Why can’t we fix that? Can the dress be let out?’ Cat shook her head and Nell knew she’d been right, that this was one of the main causes of the problems they’d had. Nell believed that every time a bride talked about her wedding dress, she should be excited to wear it and have a dreamy expression on her face. Whenever Cat had talked about hers, she’d scrunched up her face like she could smell something foul. The purchase of the dress had been the start of things going wrong. Nell remembered the day they’d all gone shopping and though she’d mentioned her reservations, there’d been no talking Cat into changing her mind or telling Brenda no. ‘Cat, do you actually want to wear your dress? After everything you’ve gone through with your mum, now’s the time to get the wedding you want and that means every aspect of it.’
‘I hate it,’ Cat answered quickly without a hint of hesitation. ‘Absolutely hate it. I mean, I’m sure it would look lovely on someone else, but it’s too long for me, the bodice is so tight it makes the tops of my arms look enormous and then it’s all massive at the bottom and it weighs a tonne. I won’t be able to get on a toilet in it and I can’t even imagine wrestling with that bloody underwear and the twenty-seven million layers of net and ruffles every time I need a wee. And once I’ve had a drink I need a wee every five minutes. But it’s been paid for and my last fitting is later today.’
‘You could re-sell it. If you had your way, what type of a dress would you like? You loved the vintage one Lexi brought to the wedding fair, and the one you tried on at the shop. Your eyes sparkled when you saw that one.’
Cat glanced at Lexi, their gorgeous vintage-dressed waitress. ‘I’d adore a Fifties-style dress. I’ve always loved them. They’re so simple and stunning and elegant. That one of Lexi’s was perfect, and I’d only need a small net underneath so it poofs out a little bit. Did you see those cute pillbox hats she had on the table? The ones with the little veil? And the little gloves?’ Nell suddenly saw the dreamy, faraway look in Cat’s eyes she’d hoped for and called Lexi over.
‘Hey, ladies, what else can I get you?’
‘Lexi,’ Nell said, ‘Do you still have that wedding dress Cat loved from the wedding fair?’
Lexi’s eyes brightened with excitement. ‘I do. Are you interested, Cat? I thought your dress was all sorted.’
‘It is – I mean – it was. I’m making some last-minute changes and I’ve realised it’s not really me. Do you think that one of yours would fit me? And I’d love one of your little pillbox hats with a veil.’
Lexi’s trained eye roved over Cat, assessing her measurements.
‘I’ll pay for it,’ said Nell quickly.
‘No!’ Cat interrupted. ‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘I want to. You’re my best friend. It can be my wedding present to you. What do you think, Lexi?’
Lexi smiled and put her hands on her hips. ‘I reckon with a bit of tinkering it’ll fit you like a dream.’
‘Thank you so much, Lexi. You’re amazing.’
‘I finish work at one. Can you come over this afternoon and we’ll do a fitting? Looking at you though, I’m pretty positive it’ll only need minor adjustments to the top.’
Cat was bouncing in her seat with excitement and her eyes misted with tears again. Nell pushed the plate of cake back in front of her and, genuinely happy, Cat forked in a massive mouthful, and this time ate it with glee.
Chapter 22
Sunday afternoon, Tom stood outside the care home, trying his best to muster some courage and go in to see Grandad Nigel. Last night, after the party, he’d fallen off the kerb and twisted his ankle while marching home and if he ever needed a sign that he had to stop being such a wimp and tell his grandad what was happening, that was it. Now, facing the big white building, the front door decorated with a wreath he’d made them, he couldn’t help the anxiety weighing his body down. He didn’t want Grandad Nigel worrying about him, he didn’t want him thinking he wouldn’t be able to visit or pay for his care. He wanted Grandad Nigel to know he was safe and well and enjoy his later years.
Tom would have given anything to be able to delay this news until the New Year. Ideally, he’d never have to tell Nigel something like this at all, but his cards had been dealt and the sooner it was out the better. Who knew how much worse his sight would be in January? Fear almost strangled him as he prepared to ruin his grandad’s Christmas with bad news and worry. Tom didn’t normally feel the cold this much, but today, he couldn’t get warm and his teeth were almost chattering. The longer he stood there, the harder it became to move his legs and step inside. Giving himself an internal shake, he put one foot in front of the other and moved.
The wreaths hung high on the entrance corridor wall. Their pine scent filled the air along with cinnamon, cloves and dried apple. Tracey was on duty, as usual, and she bustled around behind the little office station at the other end of the TV room.
‘Hello, love,’ she said, when she saw him. ‘How’ve you been keeping?’
Difficult question. ‘Not too bad, thanks, Tracey,’ he lied. There was no point in telling her the truth just yet. He had to tell his grandad first.
‘Oh good. Nigel’s in the TV room with Edith.’
Tom slid his scarf from around his neck and his thick, heavy coat from his shoulders, hanging both over his arm. He ran a hand through his hair, and walked towards his grandad, nerves mounting with every step. Nigel and Edith were chatting away and Tom didn’t want to disturb the happy scene. Everything would change the moment he said the words and once he had, there was no going back. His grandad had a bright smile and his unseeing eyes shone. He seemed happy enough even though he was blind, but he was 87, and these sorts of things were to be expected at his age. It was different for Tom who had so much of his life ahead of him and longer to cope with being different and less able than other people. He hesitated. It was going to be so hard to say the words out loud, but he’d come this far.
‘Hey, Grandad. All right?’
Nigel spun his head towards the sound of Tom’s voice. ‘Tom, my boy. What’s wrong? You’re asking me if I’m all right, but I can tell from your voice you’re not.’ Even though his grandad couldn’t see him, Tom dropped his eyes.
‘There is something I need to talk to you about, if that’s okay?’
Fear flooded Nigel’s features. Edith patted his arm and stood. ‘I’ll leave you boys to it.’
‘Come on then, boy. You’d best sit down.’ Tom took the vacated seat, placing his coat and scarf next to him. The din from the giant TV had seemed so loud when he’d walked in, turned up high for those residents who were hard of hearing, but now, as the moment approached and he concentrated on his words, all noise faded into the background. ‘So out with it, boy.’
This was it. This was the moment that he had to admit his health wasn’t great and that it might ruin the rest of his life. Worse than that, it might impact on Nigel’s life too, and he really didn’t want the old man to worry. He’d had years of worry – worry that came from living through a war, and the worries of everyday life – and now, at his age, he deserved to relax and enjoy himself. But there was no way around it now the consultant had confirmed a diagnosis and it was already beginning to affect Tom’s life. He had to man up and just get the words out.
‘I’ve been having a bit of trouble with my eyesight recently, Grandad, and I went to see a doctor – well, a consultant actually.’ Nigel cocked his head, listening intently. ‘He told me that I had a condition called Retinitis Pigmentosa.’ He took a deep breath, but Nigel didn’t speak, letting Tom go on at his own pace. ‘It means I’m going to lose my peripheral vision completely and possibly go completely blind.’
Nigel kept quiet, taking in all that Tom had said. For Tom, there was a fleeting sense of relief that the words were finally out,
but watching his grandad’s face and trying to gauge his reaction was heartbreakingly difficult, knowing he could be changing his grandad’s life as well as his own. A resident shouted out, ‘Melon balls,’ in answer to the game show they were watching on the TV, shattering the bubble of silence between them. On any other occasion, Tom would have found it funny, but then Nigel reached out and took his grandson’s hand, holding it tightly. ‘How long, boy?’
‘They can’t tell me.’ The stinging in his nose and throat took his breath away as he held back tears. Nigel’s thin, papery skin felt cold over his hand. ‘It’s a degenerative condition and everyone’s different. It could be months or years. I just don’t know. But I don’t want you to worry about anything, Grandad, okay? I’ll find a way to pay for the care home even when I can’t work anymore. Mum and Dad pay half and I won’t stop paying my bit, even if I have to sell the shop. You won’t have to leave. I promise.’ He was speaking quicker and quicker and when he finished, he was glad that it was all out yet reticent of the repercussions.
‘Now hold your horses, boy.’ Nigel’s voice was strong and forceful. ‘I don’t care about where I live. I mean I like it here, and even Tracey isn’t that bad at times.’ He raised his voice for the last part of the sentence so Tracey could hear him.
‘I heard that!’ she shouted from her place behind the desk. ‘No mince pies for you, young man!’
Grandad chuckled. ‘Young man? Ha!’ But then his face and voice lost all humour and became serious once more, lowering his voice again. ‘Tom lad, all I care about is you. Since your mum and dad decided to emigrate – and I don’t begrudge them going off and making a life for themselves – it’s been just the two of us, hasn’t it? You’re all that matters to me. Now, what’s the state of those eyes at the moment?’
An unexpected grin appeared on Tom’s face at his words. He was always to the point but never cruel. ‘I find it really hard to see in the dark and when the light changes. I get headaches and I’ve already started to lose some of my peripheral vision.’