by June Taylor
Chrissy felt her stomach grind at the mention of food. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘But we just need to get to a campsite now.’
‘Where are you heading?’
‘Paris,’ said Juliet.
‘I’m hoping to get to Paris tonight, if that’s of interest. My wife is expecting me. It’s my son’s birthday and I’m terribly late.’ He started walking back to his car.
‘He seems decent enough,’ said Juliet, watching him go. ‘It’ll be late when we get to Paris but we can always kip down in the coach station, get the first bus out tomorrow morning.’
‘We don’t even know where we are,’ replied Chrissy, dragging her rucksack over. ‘Let me get the map out.’
‘Are you mental? We can’t let him drive off. How many more nutjobs are out there? And what if that one comes back?’
Maybe she had a point.
‘Okay,’ said Chrissy, fastening her rucksack back up again.
He loaded their bags into the boot of his car, a brand new white Citroën, flashy and expensive-looking. Five minutes later he appeared with a gruyère baguette and a large bottle of Evian. Juliet almost took his fingers off when he offered it to them, and they tore into the bread like feral cats. Chrissy tipped the bottle of water vertically over her mouth and, with a gratifying sigh, wiped the droplets off her chin. Juliet grabbed the bottle and did the same.
‘Pas faim, hein?’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You English are just too polite.’
Chrissy was mortified that he had witnessed their feeding frenzy.
The headlights cut through the darkness as they pulled away, tyres crunching on loose stones. She kept imagining the terrible phone call that her parents would have received from the French police. Also Dan. Poor Dan.
‘It’s a five or six-hour drive to Paris, I think,’ he said. ‘I will try to get us there much faster.’
Juliet put her head on Chrissy’s shoulder and it wasn’t long before she started to doze. Chrissy, on the other hand, remained alert. Every time she saw a truck, her heart began to race. It bothered her that they were heading in the same direction.
CHAPTER 14
Manchester: 2007
‘I’m going to bed,’ said Chrissy, sliding herself back up the wall. She was still clutching Juliet’s letters.
‘Christ, Mum. Thank god you got away from him.’
Chrissy pulled Eloise to her feet. ‘Now do you see why I’m so worried about you?’
She wanted to say that she would never be that stupid or naive, not like her mother and Juliet had been.
‘You think you’re invincible at that age,’ Chrissy added. ‘When really, you’re not. Goodnight, Eloise.’ She disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door.
Eloise heard a thump.
‘Mum. You okay?’
‘I thought I’d made myself very clear about Juliet, that’s all.’
The soap dish clattered into the sink, and when she heard her cleaning her teeth Eloise could picture the blood swirling round the plughole from such vigorous brushing, audible even through the door. She took a deep breath before she dared say anything. ‘Well, maybe you should let me read her letters. So I know what’s going on between you two.’
Chrissy burst out of the bathroom, pushing past Eloise. ‘You never let go, do you? You just never let go.’
The bedroom door closed, putting an end to their argument.
Eloise contemplated the mess. Petals and bits of green foliage still strewn across the carpet, possibly shards of glass that she had missed, too. The wet patch had almost doubled in size. And Juliet could well be on the next plane back to Italy by now. Who could blame her?
‘Sorry about tonight, Juliet.
Thanks for the prezzies.
Eloise xxx’
A message came straight back, saying:
‘To be expected.
See you tomorrow.
J xxx’
Eloise hugged the carrier bag into her chest, then peered inside it. There were two boxes, each wrapped in purple tissue paper and tied with a gold bow. ‘For my most beautiful Eloise’ it said on one of the glossy labels.
Eloise fell asleep with the gift next to her bed, the scent of Juliet drifting into her dreams.
With or without her mother, she would still be going out with Juliet tomorrow night.
***
Chrissy had to be there when she read the letters; that was the deal. But she was still in the bath, taking so long to get ready, and besides, what harm would it do?
The envelopes lay next to her on the bed. Eloise could just see the words:
‘Your best friend forever, Juliet xxx’
The one that resembled an old teabag needed some gentle coaxing out of the envelope. She took great care not to rip any of its six pages as she opened them out. To think that Juliet had written them nearly twenty years ago.
‘My Dearest Chrissy, 24th October, 1989 …’
But that was as far as she got before they were snatched from her hands.
‘Never go behind my back again, Eloise.’
‘But you said I could read them before we went out and there’s hardly any time left.’ Their eyes locked together. ‘Juliet said we don’t even have to talk about any of that stuff, Mum. Didn’t you hear her?… What? What’s wrong?’
Chrissy was looking at her aghast.
‘My god, look at you. You look stunning, Eloise. Let me see.’
She forced a smile, giving her the full twirl, spinning on one heel and holding out the ends of the dress. Her hair was pinned up in a messy backcombed style for a grungy-chic look.
‘Is that from—?’
‘Juliet.’
‘It fits you perfectly.’
It was a short, floral print summer dress in red and black. Beautifully made: 100% pure silk crêpe de chine. Juliet had put a note inside the box:
‘Eloise, I am basing your shape on what I remember your mother’s to be. If it’s not suitable you must choose something out of any of the collections. Love Juliet xx’
‘Why don’t you wear yours?’ Eloise asked, her eyes drawn to the piles of clothes scattered across the floor. She picked out the purple box and offered it to her mother. When she refused it yet again, Eloise pulled on the gold ribbon, parted the purple tissue paper and unfurled a Fifties-style black dress. ‘Wow! That is just lush.’ It had lace detail in a V-shape around the neckline. Sleeveless, pinched in at the waist with a full flowing skirt and just a hint of net underskirt below the hem. Simple, but elegantly beautiful.
Her mother didn’t react.
‘Let me quickly dry your hair,’ said Eloise. ‘Get the full effect.’
After that she helped her slide the dress over her head, being careful with the waves she had just created. Eloise admired the way the dress drew in around her curves when she zipped it up at the back.
‘Blimey, it’s tight,’ Chrissy gasped.
It was a perfect fit for her slim, athletic figure. She had a slight tan due to all the running that she did, and the dress complemented her golden skin tone.
‘Look, you have a waist, Mum. And boobs. You look gorgeous.’
Chrissy allowed herself only the briefest moment in the mirror before she was tugging at the zip again. ‘I can’t come out tonight,’ she said.
‘Why? Wear something else then.’
‘It’s not the dress.’ She was getting more and more impatient with the zip.
Eloise rushed over before she damaged it.
‘I won’t tell Juliet about the brooch, if that’s what you’re worried about. That you stole it.’
Chrissy stepped over the dress, catching it with her toe and flicking it off. ‘It’s not about the brooch either.’
Eloise picked up the dress, folding it neatly with the respect it deserved. But she could feel her anger building. ‘You just can’t let anyone else get close, can you?’ she snapped, stepping into her mother’s face. ‘Stuck in the same old house in the same old city, forever and ever. Doesn’t mat
ter what I want. You don’t bloody care!’
By now Chrissy was in her dressing gown. She looked at Eloise, shell-shocked, then yanked on the belt pulling it into a tight knot. ‘Actually, Eloise, this may surprise you, but you’re all I care about.’
‘Yeah, right.’
As she tried to leave the room, her mother blocked her way.
‘I’m sorry it’s not how you’d like it to be. And I’m sorry if you feel trapped,’ she said stiffly. ‘But, like it or not, Juliet is not the answer. I can’t just welcome her back into my life. There’s a lot to consider. One day you’ll understand that.’
‘How?’ Eloise yelled, barging her way through.
‘Where are you going?’ Chrissy shouted after her.
‘Round to Anya’s.’
She had already asked Anya to cover for her, if questions were asked. Because that’s what friends did for each other.
As Eloise raced blindly down the stairs she realized she felt secretly pleased that her mother wasn’t coming out this evening. It meant she could have Juliet all to herself.
***
‘She really isn’t coming?’ said Juliet as Eloise piled into the car. She had to be quick in case Chrissy was out on the walkway.
The driver shut the door. She hadn’t even realized he was standing there; in so much of a hurry to get in.
‘She says it’s because she wants you to tell me the rest of the story, Juliet.’
Eloise felt herself flush.
Juliet smiled. ‘So she hasn’t let you read my letters?’
‘Not yet, but she’s started to tell me stuff. I know she saved you from the lorry driver.’
‘The lorry driver?’
‘Yeah, the one who was really horrible to you.’
Juliet tapped on the glass; they moved off slowly.
‘It fits you well,’ she said, turning to admire the dress.
‘Oh, it’s perfect. Thank you so much. Mum loves hers too. You should see her in it, she looks like a film star. I hardly recognized her.’
She saw that Juliet had toned it down tonight, wearing a simple navy blue dress with a white short-sleeved cardigan. She obviously wanted Chrissy to be the one to shine this evening. The cardigan was secured at the top with the silver cat brooch. There were tiny cuts in the metal, creating stripes along its back. Didn’t she ever take it off? Surely she hadn’t been wearing it every day for the past twenty years.
As they drove round the grassy island in front of their block, Eloise felt the need to say: ‘This is just a temporary place, by the way. We’re sort of between houses.’
Juliet smiled and linked arms. ‘Well, let’s have ourselves a good time, you and me, Eloise. It’s a chance to get to know each other a bit.’
Already Juliet had begun to unravel the knots in Eloise’s stomach.
It was only as she began to relax that she registered the car.
Black. One-way glass.
She tried to get a look at the driver’s face. His profile alone told her enough. Something was not right about this.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘You’ll see,’ was all Juliet would say.
CHAPTER 15
Manchester: 2007
Eloise felt slightly more at ease when they continued up Oxford Road, heading into town.
‘This is where I work,’ she said as they passed Maria’s Café. She wanted to bring some normality to the situation. The bars and fast food places on Oxford Road were busy with students. A small crowd was gathered in front of the Cornerhouse; on the other side, the queue was growing for the Palace Theatre. Their car moved slowly through the traffic as people were being dropped off and taxis tried to push their way in.
‘Yes,’ said Juliet. ‘But you go to Sixth Form College.’
‘How did you know that? I – I never told you that.’
‘Forgive me, Eloise. You see, I had to make some enquiries. Anton followed you on a couple of occasions. I hope you don’t mind.’
She must have looked shocked because Juliet touched her hand and said: ‘Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to scare you. If I’d got the wrong Chrissy it would have been terrible. Can you imagine?’ She let out a laugh. ‘Anton’s a much better chauffeur than he is a spy.’
Eloise wondered how many times she had been followed and not even known about it. And when had it started?
‘It’s okay. I – I get it,’ she replied, trying to convince herself that it was. The knots in her stomach were beginning to re-form.
‘Your mother, on the other hand, proved much more elusive.’
‘Yeah, I bet. She runs everywhere, doesn’t she?’
A tram was just pulling into St Peter’s Square and as their tyres rattled over the tracks, the Midland Hotel on their left, Eloise thought this could be their destination. It seemed the sort of place Juliet might stay. Instead, they turned down Mount Street towards Albert Square. The Town Hall shone magnificently in the evening sunlight. At least Manchester was not letting her down.
‘I’m so sorry to hear about your dad,’ said Juliet when the traffic began to slow again. ‘So young, as well. It must be hard for you, Eloise. And your mum.’
‘Did you know him well?’
‘Yes.’ Juliet beamed at her. ‘I bet he was a great dad. Oh, but I’m not upsetting you by talking about him, am I?’
‘No, it’s okay. I do miss him.’
‘I’m glad Chrissy got her happy ending,’ she said, pulling Eloise into her side. ‘I truly am.’
Eloise wasn’t sure what she meant by that exactly; she had never considered herself a happy ending before. The remark made them both pensive for a while, although the traffic was a distraction crawling around the Square.
Finally, she spotted the sweeping curve of the Lowry Hotel. As they pulled into the car park the impressive Trinity Footbridge was just visible and Eloise found herself wishing, rather guiltily, that her mother could be here to experience this too. She was so distracted she hadn’t realized that Anton was waiting for her to get out of the car. He gave her a steely stare, and she was relieved when Juliet took her arm.
They were escorted up to the terrace bar, where chairs were pulled out for them and a pianist played a Frank Sinatra song which Eloise vaguely recognized. Juliet ordered two glasses of champagne.
‘Ssh. You look old enough,’ she whispered. ‘And we won’t tell your mum.’
‘She won’t mind as long as I don’t go home arseholed.’
Eloise squirmed, wanting the evening to begin again.
‘Well, here’s to us,’ said Juliet. ‘And to your wonderful mother, who is very, very dear to me.’
Eloise thought she could see tears in her eyes and felt the need to look away out of politeness. Sipping her drink, she focused on the bridge instead. From here it was like a giant harp suspended across the River Irwell, reflecting wavy reds and purples on the water.
Then she became aware of Juliet rooting around in her bag.
‘Ah!’ she said when she had located her cigarettes and lighter. But as she was putting her bag back down by her feet, some of the contents spilled out onto the floor.
Eloise jumped up to help.
Confusion flooded her brain when she saw it.
‘My god, Juliet. How come you have that?’
She picked up the little yellow bear that had gone missing from their flat a few days earlier.
‘I can explain,’ said Juliet, scooping the rest of her things into her bag. She took the bear from Eloise and held it up. ‘Do you know where this came from?’
‘My dad gave it to me,’ she replied, feeling the disappointment all over again that it wasn’t a special present just for her, as she had always thought. ‘But why have you got it?’
Juliet winced. ‘Anton again, I’m afraid. He was a little too keen to prove that he’d found the right Chrissy.’
‘So he came into our flat and took it?’ Eloise was trying to work out when that might have been, thinking back t
o the incident when her window was open and their flat smelt of cigarette smoke.
‘I can only apologize, Eloise. You see, I’d shown him photos of what your mum used to look like. In among them was one taken of me and your dad with this little fellow, in Bristol. Anton was only meant to find out where you lived and report back to me. When he returned with the bear … well … I’m so terribly sorry.’
‘You found it on the bus. My mum told me.’
‘That’s right,’ said Juliet, handing it back to Eloise.
‘You might as well keep it now,’ she said sulkily. ‘I’ve got other things to remember him by.’
‘Are you sure? Well that’s very kind of you. I shall treasure it.’
Eloise wasn’t sure, but it was too late now; she couldn’t ask for it back. She would have to say she had lost it, or the neighbour’s dog had got it, if her mother should ask.
Juliet went out onto the terrace for a smoke before their meal arrived. Eloise could see her talking on the phone. Probably a business call. Or maybe Luca. Other people were staring at her as well; she was that sort of person.
The dinner was confusing; French, and a never-ending array of courses. Eloise was flattered when a waitress thought she was Juliet’s daughter, and she could tell Juliet was pleased too. Then she found herself wondering what it would be like to have Juliet as her mother, and may even have wished that she was.
‘Don’t you have any children?’ she blurted. Not only was it an inappropriate question, it felt like she had betrayed her own mother by asking it.
‘No,’ Juliet replied, tearing her bread roll. ‘Luca already has a family. Besides, he lives in Italy and I prefer London.’
‘Oh, I see,’ said Eloise. She didn’t at all, and searched for a much safer question. ‘What are you doing in Manchester?’
‘Seeing you.’ Juliet took a sip of water. ‘And promoting the new collection. I’d also like to open a couple of boutiques in the North of England. We have small concessions in Manchester – Harvey Nichols and Selfridges – but we only have one Ricci store in the whole of the UK.’