by kendra Smith
I nod as Markie wanders into my kitchen and starts to rummage around. Imagine if this was what it was like all the time? I allow myself a brief fantasy where Markie is in my kitchen, where we are a couple. But I force myself to stop. It won’t happen now.
‘Here you go.’ He places a perfect hot chocolate in front of me. There’s even some cream on the top, with chocolate powder sprinkled on top and a teaspoon in the mug.
‘Thanks,’ I say, picking up the mug from the table.
‘Here’s to new starts.’ We chink mugs. I stare at his funny dimple in his chin and nod and I realise I desperately want to tell him what the other thing was I’d been dreaming about. The problem is, it’s just too late.
49 Victoria
‘Vicky?’
Someone was squeezing her shoulder. ‘Wake up. I’ve brought you tea.’
‘OK,’ she whispered. Her throat hurt. Lulu was standing by the side of the bed wearing a purple fringed leather jacket and a frown.
Lulu waited till she’d sat up properly then handed her the tea. ‘There.’
‘You sound like Mum.’
‘You sound crap.’
They both smiled at each other. It was the day after the event and Victoria had spent most of it in bed, but she’d woken up that morning feeling much better and had been dozing since. It was now about midday.
A head poked round the door. ‘Are you OK, Mum?’ Izzy came in and sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers fiddling with the bedsheet. ‘You’ve been asleep, like hours, Dad told us to leave you alone, and I—’
‘I’m sorry, Izzy.’
‘You gave me a fright.’ Izzy folded her arms across her chest. And suddenly Victoria watched her sixteen-year-old morph into the ten-year-old she did remember. She sniffed. Her cheeks were red. She reached up and pulled Izzy close. ‘I’m fine, I feel much better today.’ She breathed into Izzy’s hair, kissing the top of her head. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to give you a fright, I was just trying to finish the race – you know, Dad’s such a good swimmer and I suppose I—’
‘Did too much.’ Lulu cut in.
Izzy looked up at her and rubbed her eyes. ‘Next time, Mum, no swimming, OK. It just reminded me of—’
‘I know, sweetheart, I know. My memory was playing tricks. One minute I thought it was just a nightmare, the next I worried it was a memory. Turns out it was a memory.’ And as Victoria lay in her dimly lit bedroom with her daughter held to her chest, and her sister by her side, she was engulfed in a feeling of gratitude that she was here, that nothing had happened and that she was able to hold her like she’d never let her go. Because no matter if Izzy was sixteen or six, Izzy needed reassurance, she needed her.
‘Izzy, I’m fine, really. I had a good sleep and I feel good. I really do.’ She gave Izzy her best Coping Mum Smile.
Lulu was looking out of the window, her arms wrapped around herself. She suddenly turned to face Victoria. ‘I said I’d take them out, to give you some peace. We’ll get the bus into town.’ She walked towards the bed and stroked Izzy’s hair.
‘Yeah, don’t forget you promised ice creams from that new place,’ beamed Izzy and suddenly the sixteen-year-old was back in the room. Lulu nodded. ‘Of course, your majesty – and will you have sprinkles with that?’ Lulu nudged her in the ribs.
‘Hey, don’t let your tea get cold Mum,’ Izzy scolded, sitting up.
‘I won’t, promise.’
‘I’m meeting Lara – remember, Melanie’s friend? I told you about her, she’s cool.’ She raised her eyebrows at Victoria. ‘Then maybe some window shopping. Aunty Lu can decide,’ she smiled, yanking down her top.
Just then Jake put his head round the door. ‘Hey, Mum. You OK?’
‘Yeah, I’m good, I’m great. Don’t worry.’
‘I’m not worried,’ he stage whispered, looking over his shoulder, ‘but Dad definitely freaked out last night, and he’s been pacing the kitchen floor all morning.’ Jake’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, and his cooking is a bit crap; last night he made us burnt sausages, raw pasta and some weirdo potato salad from the fridge, dated, like 1988 or something. So, if you’ve nothing better to do than recover from like, drowning, could you make our dinner tonight?’ He grinned at her and leant on the door. ‘And maybe don’t do that semi-drowning thing again.’
‘I’m sorry. Hey maybe we could bake some cookies?’ She winked at him.
‘No way.’ He came over and gave her the briefest of hugs. Then he looked at Lulu. ‘We off?’ She nodded.
‘Take it easy, Mum.’ And as they all left the room, she collapsed back on her pillows and wished more than anything that they could all be a family again.
When she woke up, little ribbons of sunlight were creeping around the curtain and lighting up the wall. Tiny specks of dust danced before her as she groggily realized where she was. Looking at the clock, two more hours had passed. It was two in the afternoon. She could smell something cooking in the kitchen, it smelt like bacon or onions, or both. She was ravenous, but she sank back into her pillows to the sound of cupboard doors banging and the occasional clip-clip of men’s shoes in the hallway. Then silence.
She must have slipped back to sleep because a while later there was a tiny knock on the door. ‘Vicky?’
She opened her eyes and James was peering round the door clutching a tray. ‘Are you OK? Only you’ve been asleep for a long time. I popped my head round every twenty minutes but you were always asleep.’ He leant on the door frame. ‘I was,’ he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, ‘um, a bit worried.’
‘I’m fine. Thank you.’
‘Well, I’m just keeping an eye on you, like I’ve been told. And I think you need to eat.’ He started to walk towards her.
She flopped back onto the pillows. ‘That smells good.’
He came over to her bed and placed the tray on the side table and helped her organise her pillows to sit up in bed. ‘You did too much, took on too much, especially after what you’ve been through. I spoke to the consultant.’ He narrowed his eyes at her and she looked down at the fibres of the sheet. ‘Anyway,’ he carried on, ‘I brought you a pot of tea and some bacon and cheese scones drowning in butter—’ He stopped mid-sentence. ‘Sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘That was insensitive.’
‘Hey,’ she placed a hand on his arm, feeling the soft wool of his jumper under her fingers. ‘It’s OK.’
He looked down at her hand on his arm. ‘It’s just that it’s not OK, is it?’ His voice was strained.
‘I thought I could do it, I—’
‘But you couldn’t, not really, could you?’ he took a deep breath. ‘Sorry,’ he rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘It’s probably my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you in the running, and I should have warned you about the swimming, about the— But I didn’t want to stop you being brave. It seemed so important to you. I thought you’d remembered, but – anyway, and when I thought I’d lost you, like really lost you…’ he looked out through the window and then back at her, his forehead crinkled in worry. ‘First the car accident, now this, and it just brought it all home, speaking to your Dad, how he lost Maggie—’ She stared at his strong jaw and the way he was wringing his hands together. ‘And it terrified me,’ he whispered.
She took a sip of tea and didn’t want to disturb the fragile silence between them. After a while she spoke. ‘James, what was it that I couldn’t remember? I was having these nightmares, drowning, what actually happened? It seems they were memories, not dreams.’
‘We were on a canoeing holiday years ago, the kids were little. We’d been off the coast of Dorset, hired canoes. You were with Izzy and I was with Jake. It was choppy, it had been raining heavily, we probably shouldn’t have gone out. But,’ he half-smiled, ‘the kids had draped themselves over the sofa, crying, and so we’d decided to go for it.’ He stopped and looked out the window. ‘But the coastal swell had been huge that day and you and Izzy went out too far. You capsized, the lifeguards had to get yo
u.’
‘I don’t remember,’ she said quietly as he lifted her hand into his and started to stroke her knuckles with his thumb. They both sat like that for a while, lost in their own thoughts. The air was stuffy. She didn’t want the moment to end. He held her gaze and he was back, her James. And after all the turmoil, here he was, laying bare his soul. She loved him more than ever.
‘But you didn’t lose me then, or now. I’m still here, I’m still your wife.’ She squeezed his hand. There was a beat until he glanced at her and smiled.
‘I’ll leave you to rest.’ And he got up and wandered out the room. She ate the two cheese toasted scones then sank back into the pillows. She lay there for a long time, sipping her tea, trying to make sense of what had happened the last time she’d been in the water. She picked up her phone and scrolled through it, images flashing in and out of her consciousness, but she couldn’t concentrate on any one thing. She put it down and fell into a light sleep, with the sunlight playing on her face.
After a while, she woke up, her head groggy with memories and dreams. She slid out of bed and hauled her treasure box out from underneath the bed. She opened the cardboard flaps and started to rummage through her keepsakes until she found it. She pulled it out with a flourish and gave it a shake. The tiny daisies sewn around the edge of it, their yolk-yellow centres and delicate petals still in perfect condition. Victoria sat on her dressing table stool and slid the veil’s clasp through her hair, then pulled the veil up and over her face. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror and turned from side to side. My wedding, she sighed to herself. Would she ever remember?
Sitting back down on the edge of her bed she flicked the veil back over her shoulders and scanned the tray. Her stomach rumbled. She fancied something sweet. Ice cream. Yes. She tip-toed downstairs over the soft carpet and wandered into the kitchen. She could hear the low rumble of the radio in the lounge. The fridge was humming quietly and the afternoon sunlight was flooding in across the tiled floor. She crept over to the freezer and opened it up. There were two tubs of chocolate ice cream and one rum and raisin. She lifted out a tub, and closed the freezer door with her foot, humming to herself. Then, she stood at the kitchen counter and peeled back the plastic seal and dug a spoon deep into its velvety centre. She leant back against the counter, closed her eyes and was just savouring another spoonful when she heard a noise. Her eyes flew open and James was standing in the doorway staring at her, with his head cocked to one side. His expression was unreadable. Was he angry?
‘What are you doing out of bed?’
She shrugged. ‘Sorry, doctor, but I’m hungry.’
He grinned. ‘But you don’t like chocolate ice cream,’ he said, his eyes darting to the spoon.
‘Oh, don’t I?’ she stopped mid-lick.
‘Nope,’ he said folding his arms across his chest. ‘Never have.’
‘Right.’ She caught his eye. ‘Maybe you should have it, then?’ She took a big lick then held it out to him. His eyes flicked over her, and he looked up at her face. He approached her slowly, as a predator might stalk a deer. The floor felt solid beneath her and yet everything else in the room seemed to tilt on its axis. She held out the spoon to him, biting her cheek, as he stood next to her and gradually opened his mouth. She looked at his shiny white teeth as she slid the spoon in.
‘Delicious,’ he murmured, holding her gaze. She studied his face, his tired, kind eyes searching hers.
‘Isn’t it? So – why don’t I like chocolate ice cream?’
He tilted his head to one side and licked his lips. ‘Beats me. It’s rich, chocolatey, more-ish, gives you tingles down your spine; can’t think why not.’
‘Then what do I like – or love? Because I’ve sort of lost my memory, you see. And perhaps I need some help remembering. In fact, maybe if you tell me what you like, I’ll remember.’
‘Alright then,’ he said, leaning in towards her, and lifting up the veil on her shoulder with a finger. ‘But first, this way.’ And he held his hand out to her. She placed hers inside it, as he wrapped his warm fingers gently around hers as her stomach plummeted towards her feet, and then seemed to lift up again. It was the same sensation as being on a rollercoaster. Only she wasn’t in a rollercoaster, she was in the kitchen with her husband and the noise of blood rushing to her ears was almost deafening. He tugged at her hand, leading her back up the stairs, her bare feet treading slowly on the soft carpet. He looked back at her every now and then, pulling at her hand gently as tiny sparks lit up in her belly.
‘You asked what I love?’ he said, nudging the bedroom door behind him closed and stood in front of her. ‘Well,’ he said, pushing the veil over her shoulder softly, as her heart raced, ‘winning races, chocolate ice cream, skiing, beautiful buildings, and my two glorious, grumpy teenagers.’ He touched her chin. They were by the edge of their bed and she stood there in her veil and pyjamas, her heart strumming as he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her softly down onto the bed, where she sat in front of him.
She looked up at her husband and fiddled with the netting of her veil, rubbing it between two fingers.
‘Is that all?’
‘No. Another thing I love…’ He knelt down and held her face in his hands, his thumb tracing tiny circles over her cheek, ‘is being at home, with you – this you.’
And then he kissed her, taking his time and she melted into the moment, everything was about his touch, his breath on her lips. He stood back and carefully peeled off her pyjama top and let it fall onto the bed, then slowly traced a line from her chin to her breasts, where he circled his thumbs around each nipple. She could feel the desire welling up in her, she could hear her heart hammering in her chest as he slowly lowered her to the bed, where he whispered in her ear all the other things that he loved.
She was still out of breath when James threw off the bedclothes, grabbed her by the hand and yanked her out of bed. ‘Come with me!’ He leapt out of bed and threw on his jeans.
‘What are we doing?’ Victoria wrapped her silk dressing gown around her and flew out the door after him.
‘You’ll see.’ He grinned at her then raced down the stairs, two at a time. He went to the hall table and opened the drawer. Pulling out some papers he said: ‘This is what deserves to happen to these.’ Victoria stood beside him with her head tilted to one side as her husband, the one she so nearly lost, neatly ripped one, then two, then three of their divorce papers into shreds; then he got the shredded pieces from the floor and started to tear them apart again. After that he placed the whole lot in the palm of his hand and threw them up in the air, letting them shower over them. He folded his arms and turned to look at her. ‘That should do it,’ he said, grinning.
They wandered back up the stairs, tiny flecks of paper in his hair and flopped on the bed laughing. After a while, they were silent, lying side by side in the tangled sheets, legs intertwined. The sun was just visible behind the trees outside, and the open window let the sound of blackbirds chirping their evening song flood in. Her veil was thrown over a nearby chair and her pyjamas lay crumpled on the floor. She looked up to the ceiling and then her eyes settled on James. He was lying with his eyes shut, his long lashes grazing his cheek. It just felt right having him next to her. It was solid and real and normal. Whoever she’d become, this was what she wanted. This kind of normal. And it felt more real than anything had in the last five months, that much she did know.
‘What made you change your mind?’ She nudged his leg with her big toe.
His eyes opened and then he sat up on his elbows and leant towards her. He stroked her cheek with his hand and she pulled the sheet up around her and snuggled under his arm.
‘Well?’ And she could feel tears threaten, because she was so happy, yet so sad they’d had to travel down such a long hard road to get to this place. She knew life was complex, she knew it was made up of light and shade, but she was, well – emotional.
‘I didn’t change my mind, Vicky. It was never on
e thing—’ he looked out the window and then back at her. ‘It was countless things: watching you with Izzy, seeing you puzzle over the coffee machine, it was difficult not to laugh; how you put your family first, wanting desperately to hold you at the hospital when you had your scan but I was confused then,’ he sighed. ‘And then how sorry you were, for well – everything. Being in that dreadful Airbnb and missing you all – and it gave me time to think, to realise that what your dad said was right: it takes two to give up on a marriage, and I lost sight of that, I lost sight of my part in it – and I’m sorry.’
He altered his position. ‘And, if you must know,’ he said, pushing some hair off her forehead, ‘seeing you standing there in the kitchen in your pyjamas and veil, with chocolate ice cream on your chin, you looked simply adorable. And vulnerable – and as far as tipping points go, that sent me over the edge. I stood there and I just wanted to hold you.’
She leant over and laid her cheek on his bare chest. ‘There’s been a bit more than holding going on here…’ She slid her hand around his waist and held him tight.
He kissed the top of her head and pulled her close. ‘And I also realised, when you were in the water, when I looked over and saw what had happened, I just froze. Then I couldn’t act fast enough, I was desperate, I wanted you out, I wanted us to go back to how we were, I knew it was our second chance and—’ but he didn’t finish his sentence because the door was flung open wide and Jake screeched in.
‘Mum! Tell Izzy – whoa! Is that, like you, Dad?’ He squinted in the dim evening light.
‘Yes, Jake, it is.’ James sat up in bed just as Victoria lowered herself down a little under the covers. She started to giggle.
‘What’s going on?’ Izzy was standing behind Jake, her hands on her hips.
‘Enough! Enough! Reverse! I’m heading downstairs. Netflix calls!’ And with a bit of shuffling, her children backed out of the room. Jake tried to close the door behind him, only it wouldn’t shut properly as there was something in the way and it clicked when he tried to shut it.