by kendra Smith
Her wedding dress.
James sat up and reached for her hand. ‘It’s obvious you don’t remember our wedding, do you? I was watching you when we looked at that DVD together.’
‘No,’ she said quietly, enjoying the feeling of his finger tracing a line over her wedding ring. They both stared at the dress, dangling from the hanger, the satin shimmering in the dusky rays, the sequins in the diamante daisies casting tiny shards of light across the carpet.
‘Then let’s do it again.’ His eyes darted around the room. ‘We’ll have a party, I don’t know, call it what you want, an anniversary party – a mid-summer party, and you can wear your dress, we can renew our vows. Or is that too cheesy?’
‘Too cheesy.’
‘Right.’ He sank back down on his pillow.
‘But I like the party idea,’ she added hastily, planting a kiss on his chest, not wanting to deflate his enthusiasm.
He squeezed her hand as she grinned to herself. It was the second-best feeling she’d had all day – especially as an idea suddenly popped into her head which made it all the more exciting.
50 Victoria
Victoria looked out of the bedroom window. It was a beautiful day in late July. They’d been lucky with the weather. It had drizzled earlier and she’d been worried about the flimsy pop-up covering the guests and the dancefloor. But James had said he’d checked the forecast and it would be fine by about six o’clock, when all the guests were arriving. She’d hired a small acapella band to sing – and she’d asked Lulu if she’d mind doing a song – it was a duet, but she’d said their dad would do it with her, just for fun. Nothing too tricky, let’s mark the occasion, she’d grinned, hugging her secret to herself. Lulu had been delighted. ‘It’s been a while since I sang with Dad – Christmas karaoke ten years ago!’ she’d said at the time. Victoria had just smiled.
She spotted Izzy stringing lights up around the cherry tree, her hair loose and not confined to a plait for once. She was reaching up and carefully looping the lights across the branches, the sun catching the top of her tanned arms. Victoria felt fiercely protective and it made her think of Lulu, about the dreadful assault. Victoria had been speechless, had listened to her recount it with tears streaming down her face. But it all made sense now: that man had taken away her innocence and replaced it with fear; her sister had turned into a shadow of her former self – for a while. Victoria had seen such a change in her over the last few weeks. Nothing would happen overnight, yet she’d had her first counselling session and her eyes had been shining when she’d told Victoria about her meeting with the talent agency – there was nothing concrete yet, but she knew these things took time. At least she was on the road to being who she wanted to be. Her ‘old’ Lulu was back, the feisty sister who grabbed life by the shoulders and shook it up – not the sister who was about to throw away all her dreams and hide behind a shoddy marriage for security.
She looked up at the sky. It was a brilliant sapphire blue, with a few white clouds stretched above her like candy floss. Below, the garden was doing a great job of showing off. The wisteria was fluttering, pockets of perky lupins swayed proudly in the border and the red-hot pokers stood majestically above all the other shrubs, their fiery orange petals looking magnificent in the sun. The lawn had been cut – by Jake – and even though it wasn’t dark yet, the fairy lights across the cherry and apple trees at the bottom of the garden were twinkling in the sunlight.
Her dad and Pickle were both having a nap; they’d arrived on the train yesterday. But that wasn’t all. Standing shyly on the doorstep after the taxi had dropped them off was Liz, Dad’s neighbour and her little dog, standing obediently by her side. Her dad had been like a teenager around Liz all morning. It made her heart swell. Jake was just helping James put cutlery and glasses on the table outside, and Izzy had added some finishing touches here and there: small jam pots of marguerite daisies around the garden on tables and sprinkled silver horseshoes across them too. ‘It’s for good luck, Mum!’ She’d bought an extortionate amount of ready-made party food – who could be bothered cooking? Zoe was bringing dessert – no fat-free brownies, Victoria had insisted – and Jake and Izzy were going to help with the drinks.
She stared at herself in the mirror in the bedroom. She’d tied her hair up in a messy bun and put her two new clips on either side – daisy clips – Izzy had given them to her as a present; they were made from tiny mother of pearl petals. And Izzy had also bought her and Lulu both a necklace – it was a silver necklace with a sweet daisy pendant. She said that it reminded her of being in the park that day and making daisy chains and it was the day she’d begun to feel ‘well, connected to you’ again, she’d mumbled as she’d handed Victoria the little charm. Victoria twisted the solid daisy around between her fingers. Her darling daughter. Her make-up was a bit of blusher and mascara followed by a slick of lipstick. She’d meant to paint her nails, but in the end, didn’t have time. Her wedding dress still fitted her – just – and she slipped on a beaded bolero jacket over her shoulders as she knew it would be chilly later – and it just made it look less formal.
‘Hey, look at you.’ James came over and kissed the back of her neck. Since the ice cream evening, they’d been inseparable. It was like he couldn’t get enough of her. He was in his dark lavender suit, with a white shirt, open at the neck. She spun round and put her arms around him and he drew her in for a kiss. She opened her eyes for a peek at them in the mirror. They looked like a couple on their wedding day. It was perfect – perfect for today, and perfect for forming new memories.
‘Are we ready?’ She smoothed down the back of her bun.
He glanced at his watch. ‘I think so. By the last count there are about 500 sausage rolls in the oven, and from what I can see, Jake is in charge of cocktails, which are a lurid orange. Pickle is wearing a flashing collar and Liz’s terrier has a bow. I’d say we’re ready.’
The acapella group were milling about singing various covers; there was a female lead vocalist and she had a beautiful, lilting country vibe. She reminded Victoria of Miley Cyrus. Guests gathered next to them in the late afternoon sun and sipped their drinks, some clapped, listening to the music. Victoria spotted Zoe talking to one of the school mums and went over to her.
‘Hey, sexy mama, check you out!’ Zoe gushed and gave her a peck on the cheek. ‘I knew that you’d wear that dress again! It looks dynamite.’
‘Thank you.’ It had been a great idea to wear her dress. She would probably never get the chance again. Just then, Lulu appeared – in a stunning white halter-neck jump suit as Izzy let out a squeal.
‘Aunty Lulu! Nice! That’s just like—’
‘Yours, yes, it is. I remembered where you said you bought it and ordered it specially.’ She did a twirl – she looked fabulous. Her cheeks were rosy and her shoulders and arms were a golden colour from her new hobby – running a couple of times a week in the woods. She’d told Victoria that she’d enjoyed walking in the Dales so much, she didn’t want to stop exercising just because she didn’t have a dog to walk, so had started running instead. Her tanned skin glowed beneath the white suit; and the white halter-neck accentuated her long, slim neck. Her blonde curls were untamed and were bouncing around her shoulders as she did a mini curtsey. She looked the happiest Victoria had seen her, well, for months. Lulu clasped the daisy necklace between her fingers. ‘It looks great on you,’ Izzy said, giving her a hug.
‘Thanks, sweetheart, I love it.’
Eric appeared in smart trousers and jacket with a blue shirt, grinning from ear to ear. ‘Oh pet,’ he said, giving Lulu a hug and then standing back. ‘Nobody told me it was Abba fancy dress.’ His face was mock-serious.
Lulu leant in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. ‘Thanks, Dad! I can always rely on you to make me feel good!’
‘Only kidding, poppet. You look radiant.’ And she did. That was the perfect word for her. Just then, Jake appeared holding a large silver platter in front of him with a mountain of sausage ro
lls. ‘I reckon if you eat twenty each, we might get through these sausage rolls.’ And with that he quickly lobbed one towards Pickle who was sitting patiently by his feet. Victoria pinched his cheek then put her arm around him.
‘Oi, Mum, I’ll get ketchup all over you!’
‘I don’t care,’ she laughed, popping a sausage roll in her mouth.
James came over and started to fill up everyone’s glasses, then slid his arm around Victoria with his free hand. She leant against him, feeling his solid warmth next to her and it was the best feeling. Her fingers found his hand at her waist and she squeezed it, tracing her thumb over his wedding ring, in its rightful place. ‘Good party,’ he said to everyone, then turned to Victoria, ‘Sure you don’t want to renew our wedding vows, wife?’ Was he serious? That was far too cheesy! ‘Have you lost your mind?’ she joked.
‘No,’ he said, as he headed over to a table and popped the bottle down, then sped back to the group. ‘You have!’
There was a hushed silence from everyone as his words sunk in. James bit his lip. Izzy was doing her ‘bug eyes’, looking from her to James, Victoria took a sip of wine and started to cough, but then she burst out laughing. Lulu spat out a bit of sausage roll as she was giggling so much. Jake mouthed ‘phew’ at his grandad and wiped his brow with his free hand. Then James lifted up Victoria’s arm and twirled her round in her satin wedding dress and pulled her close. As she glanced over his shoulder to see if her plan would come together, he whispered in her ear: ‘But I’m incredibly glad you did. Welcome back, Vicky,’ to the sound of cheers from everyone standing around them as he then kissed her fully on the lips.
51 Lulu
It just goes to show, joking about your wife’s amnesia is a good party trick. I’m thrilled for them, they deserve this – and to make some new memories. The band have finished their sets; now the DJ is setting up his decks, encouraging everyone to hit the dancefloor later. Victoria’s asked me to sing a song with Dad while they’re doing that – she says she’s sure I’ll know the words. Whatever it takes, I don’t mind. I’ll sing ‘Wheels on the Bus’ if she wants; this is her day and I’m so happy for her.
Suddenly, a song strikes up that I recognise. Victoria’s waving frantically at me, motioning for me to go and get the microphone. I haven’t performed for adults for a long time, and all I’ve had to drink was a peculiar orange-coloured ‘mocktail’ made by Jake. It tasted of toothpaste. Here goes. It’s a melody I’m familiar with – oh, God, it’s the opening guitar riff from A Star is Born – ‘In the Shallow’ – surely that can’t be right? Where’s Dad? Victoria’s nodding at me to start – maybe she doesn’t know it’s a duet and I open my mouth to start to sing the male part when, from behind me, Markie appears – and starts to sing. There’s a hush. He’s standing tall, on the edge of the dancefloor, staring at me, singing to me, his beautiful voice, his eyes searching mine and shining. My legs turn to jelly and I feel like there are a million emotions flitting across my brain. Why’s he here? Then suddenly it’s my turn to sing, and I know all the words, it’s one of my favourite songs and I open my mouth. I take a huge lungful of air and I’m singing, looking at a sea of eager faces, willing me on, then Markie is right beside me, holding his microphone, his green eyes smiling. The tempo changes and we’re both singing the finale and it’s raw and it’s powerful and tears are streaming down my cheeks. This song has always moved me to tears, and now, today, standing next to him, it’s almost unbearable.
When we take our last breath and finish the duet, I can see Markie’s eyes are leaking a few tears. He wipes them away hurriedly. I scan the room, looking for Katia.
‘That, Lulu, was awesome.’ He holds my hand as we both take a bow, to huge applause. When the noise dies down, he turns to me and whispers in my ear. ‘Hold on, there’s someone I want you to meet.’ He squeezes my hand, then lets go as he dashes off the dancefloor. The moment’s gone and my heart sinks, because as much as I wish him well, I don’t want the moment to end, I don’t want to see him and Katia together, to tersely wish them well. I’d rather ram fifteen sausage rolls into my mouth in the kitchen to muffle my crying.
I step off the dancefloor to various people saying well done. I nod and smile, but it’s as if I’m underwater. I can’t hear the noise, the crowds. My eyes are fixed on Markie. He wanders into the crowd and I follow him with my eyes. My heart tells me to run away, into the house, into the quiet and yet I’m rooted to the spot. I can’t face this. Then suddenly I see him snaking through the crowds. He’s holding someone’s hand. But it’s not Katia. A woman in a gold sparkly top with bows on the shoulder and black trousers with huge heels totters towards me and holds out her hand. Her lips are painted deep red; they match her fingernails. Oh, God. He has another girlfriend.
‘Lulu, this is Gina.’
My stomach clenches. Why is he doing this? Why would he look at me that way when he was singing and then introduce me to his girlfriend? I want to hide in the loo, anything but go through with this.
I blink and look over the sea of people. The DJ is playing popular hits now and the makeshift dancefloor is crammed. It’s dark, but I can make out Dad and Liz shimmying in the distance; Izzy and Jake are doing some weird dance with their hands in the air, taking selfies, and Victoria and James seem to be waltzing to Pharrell Williams’s ‘Happy’. I smile despite this awkwardness. I turn to Gina, determined to get through this. ‘Nice to meet you. How did, er, you two meet?’ It’s excruciating doing party small talk. I’d rather eat Pickle’s dog food.
‘Lulu, I asked Gina to come along tonight. To hear you sing.’
‘You knew I was singing?’ I look at Markie and I see a twitch of a smile.
‘Yes, Vicky set this up. The duet,’ he says.
I’m confused.
‘You’ve got a great voice, Lulu.’ Gina nods at me and takes a sip of her cocktail.
As I open my mouth to say thank you, Markie butts in: ‘Gina heads up an indie record label, and she’s looking for—’
‘You’re not his girlfriend?’ I blurt out. I just can’t help myself.
‘No, sweetie, my girlfriend is over there.’ I follow her gaze to a woman in a peacock blue dress, who’s sitting in one of the chairs with Pickle on her lap, stroking his fur.
‘Oh,’ I manage as the realisation sinks in. I look between her and Markie. ‘You like my voice?’
‘I do. I’ve seen some of your work on YouTube.’
‘That seems a lifetime ago,’ I say, fiddling with my necklace. ‘But I did upload some stuff recently.’
‘I know. It’s good.’ She opens up her handbag and rummages around. She hands me a business card. ‘I’m on all the socials, look me up. But why don’t you give me a call, then we’ll take it from there.’ She winks at Markie and then disappears off. I hold the card in my hand, too stunned to talk.
‘Shall we get some air?’ Markie nods and we both wander out of the pop-up tent, across the lawn. There’s a question I’m dying to ask and my eyes flit across the garden and back to the pop-up looking for the answer, before I take the plunge.
‘What about Katia?’
‘What about her?’ Markie’s lilt travels through the air between us. I study his face for clues and his eyes are dancing. He’s standing inches away. I can see tiny bits of stubble appearing, and smell fresh soap on his skin.
‘Well, aren’t you two, you know, together?’ I say, my breath catching in the cold night air.
‘What makes you ask that?’
‘Because I saw you hug and kiss! At the village hall.’ It’s out before I can help it.
‘Oh, for the love of Jaysus! Yes, but that was a friendly peck on the cheek, so it was. I won’t deny it. Want to know why?’
I take a step back and stand with my hand on my hip, my heart thudding. ‘Yes.’
He starts to walk towards the cherry tree. I follow behind him. We are slowly making our way down to the bottom of the garden. The fairy lights are glittering like stars that have falle
n from the sky. It’s much darker now and I feel a cool breeze across my shoulders.
‘I told her about you,’ he begins, ‘about what had happened – an edited version.’ He stops and turns to me. ‘She was at college with Gina – and well, she offered to get in touch, when I’d explained everything and, y’know, I kinda got over-excited and kissed her on the cheek.’ He shrugs. ‘Satisfied?’
Most of me wants to believe it, but my faith in myself has taken such a battering, I almost don’t trust myself to hope for this.
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’
I look up at him, his earring glinting in the fairy lights.
‘I want to believe you but—’ Just then Pickle comes bounding up with a pink strappy sandal in his mouth. Markie manages to scoop him up, retrieve the sandal and pops it in his pocket, then gently lets Pickle down and ruffles his head. He stands in front of me, puts both hands on my shoulders and I am aware of the warmth in his fingers pressing down on my skin.
‘Well, perhaps this will change your mind.’ He takes his hand and strokes my cheek with the back of it as little electric shocks dart across my skin. Then he places it back on my shoulder. ‘I have always loved you, Lulu, from the moment you stumbled into that marquee on the very first day when your heel broke, from when you opened your mouth and sang, when you do your crazy, stupid, brilliant Macarena dance, I love that you care about the kids as if they’re your own, I love you on stage – and,’ he pauses, ‘I even love you in the Caterpillar outfit,’ his eyebrows jiggle a little ‘—but the problem—’ he rubs my shoulders as a thousand fireflies are released in my stomach, my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and all I can feel are his hands on my bare skin as I look into his shiny eyes – ‘the problem,’ he says again, and takes a breath, ‘was that you didn’t love yourself. I could never understand why – until you explained it all to me.’