by kendra Smith
She did have a bit of a memory of that night, creaky floorboards, creaky bed; it was only a tiny double bed she remembered. Far too small for James’s long legs. ‘Didn’t your feet stick out the end of the bed?’
He nodded. ‘Yup.’
‘And the duvet cover – revolting yellow – right?’
‘You said it reminded you of snot.’
‘But afterwards,’ she carried on, ‘I mean, after we lost the baby, I have flashes of memory, it wasn’t a good time, was it?’
He let out a breath. ‘No. We both withdrew into ourselves, really and that’s exactly when my job became more demanding, several bids were accepted at once, I was away, it was the perfect storm, really. You and the kids seemed to cope without me, it was, I don’t know, as if you didn’t need me. You became unreachable.’ He shrugged. Bubbles of soap were smeared across the windscreen. It felt oddly intimate, enclosed in the warm air of the car. ‘But maybe I should have tried harder. I didn’t appreciate how much you were hurting. I mean, if I was feeling wretched, God alone knows what you would have felt, after what you went through in hospital.’ She peeked over at him, but he was looking out of his window the other way. Then he turned to her. ‘When the twins were young and needy, it all seemed fine,’ he looked up to the roof of the car, as if for inspiration, ‘I mean we had a purpose, both of us, you had your role as a mother, I was working, then we were trying for another baby – that was a purpose too – but after the miscarriage, we let weeks slip into months, we didn’t talk – I mean properly talk – and I’d come home at the weekend and feel like a stranger in my own home.’
‘I was on anti-depressants, James.’
He nodded silently. ‘I didn’t realise the impact on you. I suppose we both needed each other but just didn’t say.’
The noise of the brushes buffeting the back of the car filled the space between them. James said nothing, but sat staring out the window.
‘I didn’t help by distracting myself with my appearance, did I?’ she offered. ‘But, you know, I can only imagine I was doing it for you – to make you appreciate me.’
‘And games on your phone?’ He turned to look at her and was smiling. ‘Look, I did appreciate you, Vicky, but you changed. You were—’
‘Grieving.’
‘Do you think about her?’
‘Of course I do. Some parts are so clear now. Bits and pieces have come back since I found that pink ribbon, like how we decorated the nursery, the butterfly mobile, how excited we were that we’d be a family of five. Choosing names… you liked, was it Amelia? I was stuck on Ashley.’ She glanced at him. ‘Did we never get beyond A in the baby books?’
James smiled briefly then scratched his cheek. ‘We spent ages looking at those books in bed at night. We felt like it was a gift. You were sure you wouldn’t get pregnant again. But then after, I don’t know. I lost you.’
‘We both lost each other.’
A thousand thoughts flitted across her brain, half-formed memories and flashes of images from the past. The nursery, the tiny pink blankets with white embroidery she’d allowed herself to buy. The aching feeling after the hospital. She couldn’t remember the hospital, somehow that was still blank, but she remembered the grief, the loneliness. Looking after the twins when they still needed her. Pushing it all from her brain. Telling everyone she was fine; always a smile and a cheery ‘OK’ when in fact she was crying inside; those fragments were coming back.
She was feeling light-headed. She gripped her seat and dug her nails into the soft leather. The rollers were coming back down over the windscreen, whirring and beating on the glass, thwack, thwack, thwack, and it was then that Vicky’s heart started to race. A scene flashed across her frontal lobe, the headlights, the scraping metal noise and suddenly she was back there with the thundering sound, the brushes blurring the windscreen, the drumming in her head, her breathing sharp, her chest constricted, moisture on her upper lip. It was like being sucked into a vortex of panic, things were blurring and she kept seeing the pink ribbon flash through her mind, then the bright lights of the accident, the smoke on the bonnet. She looked at the brushes rolling up towards her, faster, louder – gaining speed, coming right at her. She started to shiver uncontrollably.
His hand was on her cheek, pulling her face towards him. ‘Vicky, Victoria, are you alright? You’re burning up.’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No, the noise, the accident. I—’
‘Let’s get out of here.’ Just then, James started the engine, pressed his foot on the accelerator, even though the brushes were still on the roof, and sped out of the carwash. Vicky glanced to the left to see one of the attendants on the forecourt waving his fist at them. If she didn’t know better, she’d think James actually cared.
He was crouched on the floor when she came in.
‘James?’
He looked up at her, and wiped his eyes. His hair was dishevelled, like he’d been tugging at it; it was sticking up on one side.
‘Alright?’ She smiled at him and then knelt on the floor and sat next to him as if he were an animal she didn’t want to frighten. He uncurled his legs and stretched them out and leant on the wall. He smelt of sandalwood and pencil shavings as she sat next to him, their legs side by side.
‘How are you feeling?’ he said gently.
‘Better.’
‘You’ve been asleep for ages. I asked Izzy to check on you.’
She nodded and touched his knee lightly. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Oh, I thought I’d wait to see how you were. I, well, I was just looking for some of my stuff to take away with me from under the desk and I came across this.’ He smiled thinly. He was holding onto a small DVD case with a silver DVD in it. He handed it to her.
‘What is it?’
He opened up the box and took out the DVD to show her and turned it around in his hand, holding it between his thumb and index finger; it glistened in the sun’s rays. He handed it to her. There was purple swirly writing on the disc.
❤ James & Vicky. September 2001. ❤
Tiny purple hearts were next to their names.
‘Our wedding DVD?’ she whispered.
He nodded.
‘Have you watched it?’
‘Not yet.’ His voice was hoarse.
‘Shall we have a look? It might – you know— It might help.’ She eyed him sideways to see how he’d take it. She could see the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow across his jaw and she longed to stretch out her hand and touch his skin, feel the roughness of his cheek against the back of her hand. In fact, what she really wanted to do was to curl up and lay her head on his lap and let him tell her a story, transport her out of this pain, be the couple they used to be again.
He took the DVD from her. His hands were trembling. ‘OK,’ he said softly. Then he knelt up and grabbed his laptop and put it on his knee. As he opened the little drawer for the DVD, Victoria felt slightly short of breath. She put her hand to her forehead and tucked some hair behind her ear. The air in the room had turned heavy. It was about six o’clock, a beautiful sunset was spreading its golden fingers across the treetops; birds were chirruping their evening song outside. A thin ray of light was reflected on the screen and then – suddenly – there they were. She was laughing and throwing her hands in the air – a moment, no – a lifetime ago – captured on a silver disc. They looked joyous. She was throwing her bouquet in the air; a cheer as someone caught it – Lulu! She looked radiant in a lilac dress with a halo of daisies resting on her long blonde curls like a Glastonbury babe. More laughter, the video showed the guests following James and Vicky, like the pied piper, and a sea of well-wishers were gathered behind them, the cathedral providing a stunning backdrop.
‘Where’s that?’
He cocked his head to one side and seemed to be summing her up. ‘Winchester Cathedral.’
‘We were married there?’
James’s eyes widened at her as he smiled and nodded. ‘We were. It was a m
agical day.’
She took in the majestic buttresses of the stone cathedral behind them, the guests milling around, a swarm of pastel-coloured dots as the camera angle had now switched to a higher vantage point. Silk shining in the sun, confetti nestled in up-dos and on men’s shoulders as if the heavens had opened and showered multi-coloured rain on everyone.
‘You looked—’ James nodded at the screen. ‘Stunning.’
He was blinking rapidly. She desperately wanted to reach out and touch his hand but she daren’t break the flimsy connection in the oddly intimate moment, sitting side by side on the floor.
Memories faded and then returned as she studied the two of them holding hands. It was like watching a movie, and yet – it was real, too. James spinning her round, then standing under a stone arch, the perfect backdrop – that’s where the picture in the lounge had been taken, she realised now – and he pulled her tight towards him, hands on her waist, and kissed her fully on the lips.
‘We were happy,’ he murmured, pressing ‘Pause’ on the screen.
She pulled the fabric of her top down and smoothed it over her legs. The hum of a distant lawnmower was the only sound for a while. They sat surrounded by their thoughts and breathing as the sun slid further behind the trees, its rays flickering over the oak tree, casting shadows through the window. She pulled her mohair cardigan tight around her. James closed the lid of the laptop, lifted it onto the chair and knelt on one knee to stand. Stretching his arms above his head, he looked down at her. Then, slowly, he extended his hand to her, offering his help for her to get up. She took it. It was the first time they had properly touched since she came back from hospital. His grip was warm and he wrapped his fingers around hers as he pulled her up to standing, then suddenly they were face to face. The urge to touch him was overwhelming and his hair was still sticking out.
‘I’d better go,’ he said, smiling as he squeezed past her towards the door.
42 Victoria
‘You had a panic attack in a carwash?’
‘Well, yes. No. I mean yes, Lulu, it was awful. But then, actually, James was so sweet.’ Victoria switched the phone to her other ear and told Lulu what happened. But not the bit about after he left. That that one sound of the door clicking shut had elicited a thousand emotions in her.
‘Vicky, you OK?’
‘Yes, I’m fine now.’ And she was. She had slept so much better the past two nights. It was as if she and James had crossed some invisible bridge.
‘Well, actually my legs are killing me, I could hardly sit down earlier, but it was worth it.’
‘I can’t believe you two went running. By the way are you sure you should have been running? Did you check with the doctor?’
‘Yes. No. I lied, I told him it was a charity walk.’
‘Vicky!’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I probably will walk some of it anyway. Look, I need to do this for James, for us, for Izzy. Listen, I wanted to ask if you’d be up for running with me? Just a bit – today, to get some fresh air, and – well, I’ve got to get all the practice I can get.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Please?’
She heard Lulu let out a long whistle. ‘Good work, sis.’
‘He hasn’t even moved back yet, Lulu but—’
‘Progress, right?’
‘Yeah, I think so. Anyway you’ve been cooped up at home since you spoke to Simon. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were hiding from something – or someone,’ she said pointedly. ‘See you at the rec. Twenty minutes.’
‘What like twenty minutes, twenty minutes?’
‘Don’t be late,’ chirped Vicky and then she hung up.
‘You’re, running, again, Mum? As in jogging? But you can’t even walk properly after the last time.’
Victoria was crouching down in the hall, adjusting her shoelaces. She stood up and put a hand on her lower back. ‘Ow. Well, no, you’re right, but I need to keep practising.’ She pulled her ponytail tight then winced as a pain shot through her backside.
‘Didn’t think you were serious. I thought it would be one run and it’d be all over.’ Izzy did her ‘fish-eyes’ as Jake called them, where they bulged out as she opened her eyes wide. For such a pretty girl, it made her look like a fly.
Victoria stared at her daughter. Those teenage hormones must be pretty potent. She really, really wanted to support Izzy through all this anti-bullying, but, at this very moment, she could hit her. ‘Yes, Izzy. I am. Three kilometres, in fact, and then swim. To raise money for your school, to help you. With your dad, OK?’
Izzy jutted her chin out and shifted her weight to her other hip, her crop top revealing a slice of brown midriff. ‘Yeah, well, I didn’t ask you to.’
‘I know you didn’t. We want to do it. And I’m meeting Aunty Lu today, it’s a park run.’
‘Whatever.’ Izzy rolled her eyes. ‘Just make sure you wear a decent bra,’ she said, glancing at Victoria’s bust.
Victoria’s mouth fell open as a hundred retorts zoomed across her brain. She was amazed all these sarcastic slogans were still lying dormant in her consciousness, waiting to be used. Where had they come from? But no, she wouldn’t say anything. Izzy was just finding it tough, she reminded herself. Since the Heath Farm incident they had discussed moving schools, but Izzy was insistent on staying. ‘I don’t want Bella to think she’s won,’ she’d said. ‘And anyway, she doesn’t talk to me now.’ And, of course, she had a new circle of friends, including Melanie. The feisty girl who was on her guard the whole time was slowly being replaced by a newer, softer Izzy. Her grades were improving and she was no longer wearing quite so much make-up. ‘It’s her mask,’ she’d told James. ‘She can’t face the world without it, or so she thinks.’ There had been less make-up, more Izzy.
Victoria suddenly had an idea. She marched towards the hall table where the little basket of keys lived and grabbed the car keys. ‘You know what, why don’t you come with me, too? It would be good for Aunty Lu to see you,’ she said, dangling the keys on her finger.
‘What, like, and run?’
‘Yes. Come on. You haven’t seen Aunty Lu for weeks. She could do with some cheering up. Look, it’s just a park run, like I said, three kilometres, nothing too strenuous. We can walk a lot of it. Be good for you,’ she said, then quickly added: ‘For us. To have some time together.’ She smiled at her daughter. She badly wanted to do this, to prove that she could do this for Izzy, for James, and well, for herself. It was important for her to show Izzy that she was taking it seriously, that she wanted to support her not just with seeing the teachers at school, not just with talking her through and actually implementing the online bullying guide, and not just with getting her to go to the school counsellor, but to run, to raise money, to show her that Mum was present. She wasn’t on her phone, distracted. Even if Izzy couldn’t see it at the moment.
Izzy hesitated at first and put her hand on the banisters as if to go upstairs, not looking at her mother. Victoria was sure she would shrug and walk up the stairs, but instead she turned round. ‘OK then. I’ll come. Give me a minute to get my stuff on.’ And with that, she bounded up the stairs.
Half an hour later they were pulling into the small car park next to the field that had become the starting point for Little Norland’s Park Run. The weather was warm, with a cool breeze blowing. The sky was a milky blue and she could see a kite soaring above in the sky, gliding on the thermals. She looked at all the other runners lining up, chatting and joking, and searched for Lulu. It was the first time she’d seen her since she’d been home to Dad’s in Yorkshire. They’d texted and had a FaceTime call – especially after the Simon incident, but Victoria knew she’d wanted to chill on her own in her flat. Time to get her head straight. She spotted her standing by the fence in stretchy purple leggings and an orange running top. She had to hand it to Lulu, she certainly got into the role when she’d made up her mind. She waved at her and went jogging over.
‘Hi!’ She gave her a big hug and then stood back. ‘Yo
u look great!’ And she did. She’d put on a little weight, her cheeks had filled out and her complexion was glowing. The fresh air of the Dales seemed to have done her a world of good.
The officials in high-vis jackets were dotted about the field, directing people about where to stand. There was a carnival sort of atmosphere about. They were due to start at 10 a.m. Victoria really needed to get this distance under her belt to know she could do it. Last week she had managed to do two kilometres running and walking. She was building up to three. As for the swimming – well, she’d be fine, surely? Breathe in slowly… then out. She knew she was a strong swimmer. But since the car accident, she’d been having these terrible nightmares about being underwater, looking for things in underwater caves and not being able to speak, she’d open her mouth and no sound would come out. She’d usually wake up and reach over for James, forgetting he wasn’t there. And she’d tremble, alone, reliving the nightmare without anyone there to put their arm around her. She picked up the pace because that was easier than letting her mind dwell on anything else.
‘Hey, slow down!’ Izzy was panting by her side.
Victoria laughed. ‘C’mon slowcoach!’ She nudged her in the ribs and saw Izzy shake her head and roll her eyes at Lulu. ‘Mum’s now, like some personal trainer.’ And the three of them laughed as they set off up quite a steep hill. It felt good to laugh together, to be outside enjoying the fresh air and smile at the other runners, feeling a sense of achievement with Lulu and Izzy.