by Annie Lyons
‘Meee!’ cried Charlie, darting out of the living room, where she had been watching one of her American high-school comedies.
Jude’s bedroom door opened a fraction enough for Fran to catch the musky whiff of teenage boy. ‘Sorry, I can’t – my mum’s grounded me and anyway, I’ve become a vegetarian.’
Fran ignored him. ‘Get dressed. We leave in twenty minutes,’ she said, plucking her towel from the banister and heading to the bathroom.
‘I love adventures,’ breathed Charlie, bouncing up and down from the back seat as they sped along winding country roads. ‘Where are we going?’
‘To Tall Elms so that we can commune with nature,’ said Fran. Alan barked his approval.
‘Yay! I love nature,’ cried Charlie. ‘I just saw a pigeon.’ Fran smiled at her in the rear-view mirror, sorely wishing that she had her daughter’s talent for finding the best in everything.
‘I’m so bored without my phone!’ groaned Jude from the front.
‘You’ve only got yourself to blame for being sneaky last week,’ Fran told him. ‘You’re lucky I didn’t ground you for the rest of your life.’ Jude glowered at her. Fran sighed inwardly. The success of trips like these were dependent on the mood of the assembled party and given Jude’s grudging presence, she feared it could easily be an out-and-out disaster. ‘How about a word game?’ she suggested. It was lame but if she could engage Charlie, Jude might join in too. He might be a moody adolescent but he was still a doting brother.
‘I love word games,’ declared Charlie. ‘How about an “ABC of nature”?’
‘Great idea,’ said Fran, wanting to hug her daughter. ‘You start.’
‘’Kay, erm, apple. Your go, Jude – B.’
‘Badger,’ said Jude flatly.
‘Chestnut,’ said Fran, feeling more positive.
‘Oh, I love that – makes me think of Christmas,’ smiled Charlie. They carried on playing the game until Jude got to ‘N’.
‘No Wi-Fi,’ he said, folding his arms. ‘Therefore no fun.’
‘Personally, I think no Wi-Fi is a good thing because it means that you can enjoy being in the moment,’ said Fran.
‘Why are you talking so weirdly?’ frowned Jude.
‘I’m not. All I’m saying is that it’s important to take time to just be.’
‘Is this some crap you learnt on that course?’
‘Jude!’ giggled Charlie, scandalized.
Fran cleared her throat. ‘I am merely trying to re-engage with my family in an outdoor setting instead of our usual Sunday activity of each staring at a different iPad.’
‘I watch TV sometimes on a Sunday too,’ pointed out Charlie.
‘I know. I just thought it would be good to do something different.’
‘Fine,’ sighed Jude, sitting back heavily in his seat. ‘But can you stop talking like a self-help manual? You’re freaking me out.’
‘Very well,’ said Fran as they arrived at the woods. She spied a car vacating a space on the other side of the car park and was on her way round when a large black four-by-four sped in from the opposite direction and stole it.
‘Bastards!’ yelled Fran, sounding her horn.
‘Very zen, Mum,’ remarked Jude.
‘There’s a space just there, Mummy,’ said Charlie, desperate to stop her mother from committing GBH or worse.
‘Fine,’ muttered Fran, pulling in to the alternative space. She gave the female driver, her family and their slobbering Rottweiler a death-stare as they walked by. Alan supported her with a bark of protest. ‘Good boy, Alan.’
Sometimes your best intentions are richly rewarded. In Fran’s mind, she was hoping for a relaxing stroll through the woods with her beloved children and faithful hound. Their cheeks would turn pink from gentle exertions and she would reward them all with a hearty breakfast in the café afterwards. They would chat and laugh, taking in their surroundings with studied care. Perhaps this would become a weekly pastime. They could learn the names of the trees, flora and fauna. It might inspire one of the children to become an environmentalist and possibly even save the planet.
Fifteen minutes in, Fran remembered why she liked being at home so much. She didn’t have to deal with other people. It was one family, but that’s all it ever takes, isn’t it? One family, whose pudgy child thought it was okay to drop an empty Haribo packet on the floor, whose ugly Rottweiler chased poor Alan into some stinging nettles, whose sprout-faced matriarch threatened to break Fran’s finger if she carried on pointing it in her face. The same family who’d stolen Fran’s parking space. Naturally.
‘Leave my mummy alone,’ screamed Charlie. ‘She’s a widow and you have to be nice to her!’
The woman stared at Fran dumbfounded. Fran saw pity in her eyes and it made her blood simmer. She didn’t want this woman’s pity. She didn’t want this woman’s anything. ‘Come on, you two,’ she declared, turning on her heels and marching off towards the car park. ‘This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.’
‘Amen to that,’ said Jude.
‘Mum?’
‘Yes, Charlie?’ asked Fran as they reached the car.
‘I think I trod in some dog poo.’
‘Terrific. That’s just terrific.’ Fran stared up to the heavens unsure whether to laugh or cry.
Really, universe? This is what my attempt at mindfulness brings, is it? A mind-full of the desire to punch someone in the face? That would be funny if it weren’t so effing tragic.
If Andy had been here, he would have caught her eye at this moment, his mouth twitching into a smile, which would have in turn caused her to laugh or at least see the funny side of her lame shot at family bonding. She felt exhausted with sad longing and had a sudden urge to lie down in the middle of the path.
‘Fran?’
Fran snapped back to the present and looked round in surprise. ‘Heather, hi! What are you doing here?’
Heather gestured back towards a tall, good-looking man who was pacing up and down the path, talking on his phone. ‘We were about to go for breakfast and a walk – I’m trying to get Luke to do this every week. We’re going to see a wedding venue later – Chilford Park. Do you know it?’
‘Wow, yes I do! Chilford Park is gorgeous. I think they use it to film period dramas sometimes. How exciting! So is this Sunday routine part of your happiness homework?’
Heather pulled a face. ‘Will you call me a swot if I say yes?’
‘It would be a bit hypocritical. Guess what I’m doing today?’ she said, nodding her head towards the children. ‘I was trying to do the whole mindful thing and prise the kids away from their digital devices at the same time, but, to be honest, it’s been a bit of a disaster.’
‘Gold sticker for effort,’ said Heather with a grin.
‘Who’s getting a gold sticker?’ asked Charlie, bored at being ignored. ‘I’m Charlie by the way.’ She nudged herself towards Heather. ‘And that’s Jude. He’s grumpy because he’s had his phone confiscated but he did sneak out to play in a pub so it’s hardly surprising. And this is Alan.’ Alan barked a happy greeting.
‘Lovely to meet you, Charlie. I’ve heard a lot about you. And Alan of course,’ she said, patting the dog’s head. ‘That’s my fiancé, Luke,’ she added, pointing over her shoulder to where Luke was still talking on the phone. ‘And I was lucky enough to be in the pub to hear you, Jude. You have an amazing voie.’
‘Thank you,’ muttered Jude, half smiling, a flush of pink spreading up his neck.
Luke had finished his call and was walking towards them. Fran noticed that he didn’t acknowledge her or the children at first – his attention was fixed on Heather.
‘Hey, babe, listen, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to bail.’
Heather’s face fell. ‘What? Why?’
Luke shook his head. ‘It’s this acquisition – we’ve hit a bump in the road and Mike needs some figures ASAP. I’m going to have to go home and work.’
‘But, Luke, you promised! We’re supposed
to be going to Chilford Park – they’re holding the date for us.’
Fran noticed a flicker of irritation cross his face. ‘What do you want me to do, Heather? It’s work and if you want your fairy-tale wedding, I’ve gotta work, okay?’ Heather stared at him as if she’d been stung before giving a resigned nod. Luke’s face softened. ‘I’m sorry, baby. I know I’ve been busy lately and I know you want to get the wedding booked. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I’ll get this report done and cook us a nice dinner later, okay?’
Heather nodded again before turning to Fran. ‘We have to go,’ she said, looking disappointed.
‘I could give you a lift back if you want to join us for breakfast?’ suggested Fran, feeling sorry for Heather. ‘We were going to head home but I could murder a bacon sarnie to be honest.’ She turned to Luke. ‘Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Fran and this is Charlie and Jude.’
She noticed a frown of suspicion flicker across his face before it was replaced with a charming smile as he held out his hand. ‘Luke,’ he said. ‘Good to meet you.’
Heather’s face brightened at Fran’s suggestion. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course,’ said Fran with a smile.
‘Okay, well I gotta shoot. Good to meet you guys,’ said Luke with a quick wave before pecking Heather on the cheek and heading to the car park.
Heather watched him go with a look of discouragement. ‘Come on,’ said Fran reassuringly. ‘I’ll buy you that bacon sarnie.’
‘Thanks,’ said Heather.
‘Erm, Mum, what shall I do about my trainers?’ asked Charlie, looking worried.
‘Bugger. I forgot about the dog poo incident.’
‘How about we scrape off the worst on the grass and then rinse them under the tap?’ suggested Jude. ‘I’ll help you, squirt.’
Fran stared at him in surprise. ‘Thank you, Jude.’
‘No worries. I’ll have a bacon and egg sandwich, ta,’ he said with a grin.
Fran smirked at Heather. ‘I knew there’d be a catch. Okay, we’ll see you in the café. Make sure you both wash your hands a million times.’
‘Yes, ma’am!’ saluted Charlie.
‘They’re lovely kids,’ remarked Heather as they joined the queue for breakfast. The small café was busy with Sunday morning dog walkers and families, all enjoying the early spring sunshine.
‘Thanks. Yeah, they’re not bad,’ said Fran with a smile.
‘It must have been hard for you all.’
‘It was. Still is. But grief sort of binds you together like super-glue. I would have fallen apart without them – we’re an unhappy band of survivors but survivors nonetheless. Must have been much worse for you losing both your parents at the same time.’
Heather gave a wry grin. ‘Yeah, sorry, but in the grief competition, I win.’
Fran laughed. ‘Congratulations.’ She stole a glance at her new friend. ‘It’s good to talk to someone who gets it, you know?’
Heather nodded. ‘I do. It’s less raw for me these days but I do get it.’
Fran sighed. ‘I worry about the kids. They seem fine but it’s still there all the time.’
‘I don’t mind talking to them if you want me to? Not in any heavy-handed way. And only if they want to.’
‘Trust me, Charlie will definitely want to. I’m not sure about Jude.’
‘Well, the offer’s there.’ Fran gave her a grateful smile as the kids returned. ‘Shall we go and find a table?’ she suggested.
‘Thanks.’ She watched as they took their place on the decking overlooking the pond. Charlie gave Fran a wave, her face anxiously searching until she was certain that her mother had seen her.
It was completely understandable that having lost her father, Charlie had developed an innate anxiety that Fran was somehow next in line – irrational of course but entirely understandable. It was also endlessly wearing for Fran. Charlie was fine at school but at home, she needed to constantly check that her mother was a) still breathing and b) not going anywhere. Fran did her best to stay patient and cling to the hope that she would grow out of this fear whilst also trying to remain sensitive to her daughter’s needs. It was a fine balance. Usually, Charlie was fine if she was left her with Fran’s mother but more often than not, Fran would get a call and need to reassure Charlie that she was okay. Earlier that year, Fran had popped to the shops taking what turned out to be a rash decision to leave Jude in charge. Her biggest mistake had been to tell Jude but not Charlie that she was going out. She had returned half an hour later to find a police car parked over her drive.
‘Your daughter reported you missing,’ said the weary-looking policewoman. Charlie stood frowning at her mother, arms folded as Jude plodded down the stairs, apparently surprised to find all these people gathered in the hall.
‘Jude! What happened?’ cried Fran in exasperation.
He shrugged. ‘I dunno. I was upstairs listening to music.’
‘I couldn’t find you,’ said Charlie accusingly. ‘I got worried.’
Fran turned to the policewoman. ‘I’m really sorry. Her father died and she gets a little anxious.’
‘I can hear you, you know,’ remarked Charlie.
‘Maybe it would be best not to leave them on their own in future,’ said the woman.
‘Righty-ho. Sorry again,’ said Fran, when what she actually wanted to say was, No shit, Sherlock.
She gave Charlie a reassuring wave before turning back to the woman behind the counter and placing their order. She fetched cutlery and carried the tray of drinks out into the sunshine.
‘Here we are. Number forty-two. I think I just heard them called thirty-five so fingers crossed.’ Fran smiled, taking her place next to Jude and opposite Heather and Charlie.
‘Heather’s dad died too,’ reported Charlie, placing a hand on her new friend’s arm. ‘And her mum.’
‘I know, it’s very sad,’ said Fran nodding.
‘And now she’s getting married but she hasn’t got anyone to give her away,’ said Charlie sadly. ‘Do you miss them every day? I miss my dad every day.’
‘I do but they died a long time ago so I’m used to them not being around – does that make sense?’ asked Heather.
‘Kind of,’ frowned Charlie.
‘Yes,’ said Jude. ‘You’ve had to accept that they’re gone so that you can get on with your life.’
Fran stared at him in surprise. Out of the mouths of babes.
Heather nodded. ‘I think so. Of course, I miss them and I wish they were here to see me get married and know how happy I am with Luke, but they’re not. And I’ve had to accept that. You have to find other things to fill the void and make new memories. At least that’s how it’s been for me.’
‘Do you honestly think you can get over grief?’ asked Fran with genuine interest.
Heather regarded her for a second. ‘No. But you can find a way to cope so that it doesn’t stop you living.’
Fran noticed Jude looking at her, his eyebrows raised as if to make a point and felt an uncomfortable truth creep through her veins. ‘Three bacon and one bacon and egg sandwich?’ said the waitress, approaching their table.
The mood changed as they tucked into their food. Fran wondered if she should make, ‘eat more bacon’ one of her happiness goals and realized how relaxed she felt sitting here in the sunshine with Heather, Alan and the kids. She could tell that Jude and Charlie liked Heather by the way Charlie leant in when she spoke and Jude seemed to have lost all traces of his earlier moodiness. Even Alan had forsaken his usual position at Fran’s feet and now sat by Heather’s side staring up at her with complete adoration. It may have been because she’d slipped him a piece of bacon of course, but it made Fran smile.
‘He’s such a gorgeous dog, aren’t you, Alan?’ Alan barked in the affirmative. Heather laughed.
‘So, what are you going to do about Chilford Park?’ asked Fran.
Heather pulled a face. ‘I guess I’ll have to put it on the back-burner for
now as Luke’s working.’
‘We could come with you? If you want us to?’ suggested Fran, taking a sip of coffee.
‘Oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,’ said Heather, looking unsure of herself.
‘Nonsense. We’d love to, wouldn’t we, Charlie?’ Charlie gave a series of rapid excited nods. ‘Look at that face – to be honest, you’d be letting her down if you said no.’
Heather looked at Charlie’s expectant, ketchup-covered face and laughed. ‘Well, if you’re sure, but what about Alan?’
‘I’ll take him for a walk,’ offered Jude. ‘S’fine. No offence, Heather, but I’m not big into weddings.’
‘None taken,’ said Heather with a grin. ‘Okay, thank you – that would be wonderful.’
Chilford Park Hotel was the absolute height of sophistication and elegance in the world of wedding venues. Fran and Heather smiled at one another as Charlie slid at great speed across the polished wood floor in the Empress ballroom, whilst the wedding coordinator kept her face fixed in a rictus grin.
‘It’s just like Strictly in here,’ Charlie declared, gesturing up at the gigantic lavish chandeliers before galloping around the room to her own version of the theme music. ‘Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duhhhh, duh-duh-duh-duh-duh!’ she sang happily.
‘So we can accommodate eighty adults during the day,’ said the coordinator, trying her best to ignore Charlie and remain professional. ‘Plus up to forty in the evening, making a total of…’
‘One hundred and twent-y!’ cried Charlie like a darts commentator.
‘Precisely,’ said the woman with a thin smile.
Charlie grinned at her. ‘Your name is Jasmine,’ she said, gesturing at her badge. ‘Like the princess.’ She inhaled. ‘You smell like a princess too and you have lovely hair.’
Fran could tell that the woman wasn’t quite sure what to make of her daughter. ‘Thank you,’ she said slowly. ‘Should we go through to the library so that I can take you through the menu options?’
‘Thank you, Jasmine,’ said Charlie seriously, walking alongside her. ‘That would be great.’
Jasmine looked helplessly at Heather, who gave her a reassuring smile, before leading them to the library, lined with ceiling-to-floor bookcases and red velvet curtains.