by A B Turner
I had expected her to want to go shopping, which we did, but actually, she was infinitely more interested in some of the famous landmarks we had somehow never got round to visiting during her childhood. Like an enthusiastic tourist, she snapped away with her camera, as if she was trying to make sure she captured every last nuance of the city, so she could take it with her when she left. During the morning, I checked my phone, but there were no messages from Kat, I had hoped Lainie had not seen me, but as we sat by the river, it was clear she had,
“Why don’t you text her ?” she asked carefully, obviously hoping not to cause any further distress, “You obviously want to sort things out.”
I gazed out across the river, the sun was now high in the sky, almost framing the dome of St Pauls Cathedral, people were walking across the bridge, some clearly having read about the fact it was supposed to sway in a strong breeze, were treading gingerly along, glancing anxiously down at the water below. There were two older women clutching on to each other, walking along the very middle of the path, they were laughing nervously, clearly anxious to get to the other side and thankful they were not alone. Seeing them, made me find my phone in my bag and text Kat, asking if they were anywhere nearby and did they want to meet for lunch. I had barely pressed send, when her positive reply appeared on the screen, I looked at Lainie who was beaming,
“Don’t you ever get tired of being right ?” I asked, shaking my head slightly.
“You’d think I would...but no !” she laughed, then insisted we leave the comfort of the bench and go to meet them as soon as possible. When the four of us were reunited, Kat and I hugged almost immediately, speaking over each other with heartfelt apologies and promises never to argue again. After several minutes of this, Matt interrupted , smiling but clearly impatient,
“OK...OK..we all love each other, now, somebody mentioned lunch !”
When Kat and I failed to move instantly, he offered his arm to Lainie and they started to walk away, I was about to follow, when Kat pulled me back,
“Carrie, just one thing...when you can tell someone...let it be me, OK ?”
I looked at her, for a moment, so relieved to have her back, but also thankful, this was a promise I could keep, I kissed her gently on the cheek, which seemed a better answer than any words. We smiled, both knowing our relationship was truly restored, then Kat looked after Matt and Lainie, who were now several yards away from us,
“Come on, before they run off together !” she laughed, grabbed my arm and we set off to catch them.
Chapter 19
The weeks leading up to Lainie’s move to Rome passed in a blur of frantic shopping, seemingly endless form-filling and countless meetings to confirm details, although I tried hard to appear as excited as she was about this opportunity, inside I was dreading the day when I would have to wave her goodbye and come home alone. Fortunately Daniel seemed to understand, we saw each other from time to time, our nights together were all they should be ,but there was no pressure from him to make things any more permanent, even though I suspected he might want more. One night, as we came out of the cinema, the biting winter wind almost immediately seemed to freeze my face, so I pulled up my scarf, before linking my arm through his and we started to walk back to the car park. When I looked at him, his usual cheerful face seemed a little subdued, I felt it might be best to leave him to his own thoughts for a while, but when he still had barely spoken by the time we reached the car, I felt it might be time to say something.
As soon as we were in the comparative warmth of the car, I glanced across at him again , he was staring out of the front window, making no move,
“Are you alright ?” I asked, the sound of my voice almost startled him, as if he had almost forgotten I was there.
“Sorry, I was just thinking about the film,” he began, then reached to turn the ignition, I put my hand on his,
“There’s no rush, just tell me what it is, I may be able to help,” I said as gently as possible, Daniel turned to face me,
“Do you ever worry about being alone ?”
The bluntness of the question took me back slightly, but I could tell be the earnest expression on his face, he needed to hear an answer,
“Not, really, in my life, things have kind of happened to me and I’ve dealt with them as best I could, so if I’m meant to be alone, I will deal with that too.”
“But don’t you want someone...I don’t know..to look after you,” he persisted, I wanted to say something strong, something like not needing anyone as I could look after myself, but as I looked at him, I had a feeling this response could well hurt his feelings somehow, so I responded with a vague hope maybe one day that might happen. As he started the car, I noticed a slight smile spread across his lips, leaving me wondering what was really behind his question.
But, something else quickly dominated every thought, as only a couple of days later, the day I had been dreading, dawned, as I stumbled to the bathroom, I tripped over the two large suitcases in the hallway. Lainie and I had a particularly lavish breakfast, neither of us wanting to talk about the obviously difficult time fast approaching, preferring instead to focus our attention on the vast croissants I had baked earlier.
“I won’t have to eat again for a month,” Lainie joked as she finally gave up trying to eat a third, and placed her knife down, “Anyway, I should double-check I have everything.” She left the table and wandered back into her bedroom,
“I’m doing the washing-up then ?” I called after her.
“Well you are the best at it !” she retorted.
As I dressed, I kept wishing I had thought of something brilliant to say to mark this moment, after all, I had so many years to prepare and yet, here I was, without a single grain of wisdom to pass on, just the firm resolve not to cry until she was safely on the plane. Almost too soon, the cab had arrived and we were loading the luggage, once everything was packed, we climbed into the back seat and I distractedly held her hand for the whole journey to the airport, which, as she made no move to pull away, I guessed she wanted as much as me.
Almost as soon as we arrived, she suddenly seemed to turn from my little girl, to a confident woman, loading the luggage trolley and striding into the terminal without any hesitation. As we walked to the desk, it suddenly struck me how cold, even sterile, airport terminals are, the atmosphere seemed completely at odds with all the emotions just being in this building generated. As we waited, we seemed to be surrounded by people on the edge of tears, owing to either joyful greetings or heart-breaking farewells, the last always seeming to be ended with a firm assurance ’nothing would change’ although both people probably knowing, it was a promise impossible to keep in reality.
As Lainie spoke to the receptionist, I was forced to accept, as soon as she boarded the plane our relationship would inevitably change. Suddenly, I remembered the young soldier on the train, his mother had obviously known , whatever happened, he would always be her little boy and now, in this terminal, I knew , however sophisticated she became, she would always be ‘my Lainie.’ So the only real problem was the fact, your children were always ready to leave one day earlier than, you as their Mum, were ready to let them go.
After checking in, we walked arm-in-arm to the gate, neither of us speaking until there was nowhere left to go, we hugged tightly, after forcing her to promise me she would call, I reluctantly let her go and looked at her, I pushed a stray lock of hair out of her green eyes,
“I am so proud of you,” I said quietly, “Don’t you ever forget that.”
Lainie sniffed, told me she loved me more than I would ever know, then after one last hug, she turned and walked quickly through the gate. As I watched, she glanced back, waved and she was gone. I wandered over to a large window, where I had a good view of her plane and sat down, with some kind of notion, of needing to see it take off safely before I could leave.
As I waited, almost a film show of Lainie’s whole life seemed to play in my mind, it genuinely did not seem so long
ago she was my baby, and now, she was on a plane to live in another country. At last, the plane started to taxi away and I had to fight the urge to run down and stop it, so I could order her off and take her home so I could have my little girl for a bit longer. But, fortunately, good sense prevailed and I remained rooted to the spot, until I could not see it anymore, then, sadly, I stood up and wandered back across the terminal. I was almost at the door, when I heard a beeping noise, I glanced around for the source until I realised it was my mobile and hurriedly retrieved it from the bottom of my handbag. There was a text from Kat, asking if Lainie had gone and checking I was alright, I had barely answered, when it beeped again, with a message from Daniel asking much the same thing, adding he felt a night of unbridled sex may go some way to making me feel better, and if I agreed , to call him. His suggestion did have an obvious appeal, as sex with him was still good and, almost more importantly on this occasion, I was in no hurry to go back to an empty house. Almost as soon as I came to this conclusion, my phone rang, I glanced at the screen, but the number was ‘unknown’, I groaned, almost convinced it was yet another cold call from some company trying to sell me insurance or hoping I had recently had some kind of accident for which I could claim compensation. But as it kept ringing, I started to worry it could be Lainie, so I answered quickly,
“Hello.”
“Hello, Carrie ? Is that you ?” answered a voice.
“Yes, I’m sorry, who is this ?”
“Thank God, Carrie , it’s Marcella, Marcella Forbes.”
I could barely disguise my shock at hearing from her, after all this time, but managed to keep it together enough to say how nice it was to speak to her again and ask after her health, she almost rattled back the answers to my obviously-superfluous questions and asked if we could meet immediately.
“I suppose....” I answered hesitantly, my mind racing, trying to find a logical explanation for her insistence. She quickly asked where I was, when I replied the airport, I heard her sigh with apparent relief, she gave me instructions to go to a certain exit, where a car would collect me shortly, then the phone went dead before I had a chance to respond. For a moment, I just stared at the lifeless mobile, as if it could somehow, fill in the blanks, but I suddenly remembered Marcella’s ruthless efficiency and glanced upwards hoping to see a sign, pointing in the direction of where she had instructed me to meet the car. Having established where I needed to be, I almost flew to the exit, unable to really think about anything, almost as soon as I arrived, a large car pulled into the kerb. The car window slid down,
“Ms Sullivan ?” the driver asked.
“Yes, that’s me,” I answered, still breathless but trying to regain at least an impression of composure. The rear door swung open and I climbed into the back, without a moment of hesitation, which only occurred to me, as the car sped out of the airport and seemed to be heading for the main road into central London. After several minutes, I was sufficiently recovered, to start considering what could possibly have happened to make Marcella to call me. The obvious assumption was somehow the press had discovered about my meeting Vanessa and a story was about to break, but I quickly dismissed this as a possibility, after all, I had told no-one, even when I had my encounter with the photographer, it was clear, he knew nothing. As no other obvious cause came to mind, I sat back in the deep, leather seat and attempted to relax, I glanced at the driver, but his eyes were firmly on the road ahead and it was extremely unlikely he would know anything, so I returned to gazing out of the window.
My phone rang, I was about to answer, when the driver asked me to ignore it, as Ms Forbes had instructed him to ensure I spoke to no-one, I reluctantly switched the phone off completely and put it back in my bag, unable to escape the growing feeling of trepidation about what was to come.
Finally, the car swerved and started speeding downward, as I watched, I suddenly recognised the dirty, yellow ceiling lights, it was the underground car park from that first night, which seemed a lifetime ago when I thought about it at home, but now, being back here, seemed only a matter of days. Almost as soon as the car stopped, the door opened and there stood Marcella, her face as unemotional as ever, but as I looked more closely, I was sure I saw a hint of anxiety in her eyes. She thanked the driver then, without speaking, led me to the service elevator, a hundred questions seemed to flood into my mind at once, but as I glanced across at her, it was clear, she was either unwilling or unable to speak freely just yet, so I maintained the enforced silence. It was only until we were safely in the hotel suite, she visibly relaxed slightly,
“Thank you for coming so swiftly,” she began, gestured to me to sit down, then sat opposite me, her hands tightly clasped, resting on her lap. Before I had a chance to speak, she explained, Vanessa had discovered her boyfriend had cheated, the woman concerned had sold her story to a tabloid and so, obviously, the whole world would soon know every sordid detail.
“I tried to stop this from happening,” Marcella said sadly, “But there was no negotiating with the foul creature.”
“I’m so sorry,” I answered, knowing my response was woefully inadequate, Marcella nodded slightly to acknowledge my words and continued her story,
“At first, Vanessa displayed no other emotion other than understandable anger, but now...well, she seems to have descended into some kind of depression, refusing to eat, even speak most of the time, she’s been in that room for days...”
“She’s alright in there ?” I interrupted anxiously, fearing what she might have done, if left alone.
“Yes, I check on her from time to time, but she says nothing...I would have called a family member, but the few there are , well, let’s just say, they are infinitely more interested in her money....so out of desperation, I thought of you,” Marcella finished, quickly adding an apology when she realised how her last comment might have appeared. I assured her I had taken no offence , quickly removed my coat and walked to the bedroom. I paused briefly, to collect my thoughts, then tapped gently on the door and waited for some kind of response. A couple of minutes passed, I glanced back at Marcella, who shrugged slightly and clearly could offer no advice as to what to do, so I took a deep breath, turned the handle and went into the room, closing the door behind me. The bedroom was almost pitch black, but for a sliver of daylight shining through a gap between the heavy curtains, using this, I was able to edge forward, scanning the room for any sign of life. The air seemed so heavy and oppressive, it felt almost too thick to breathe, as I made my way carefully across the deep carpet towards the large bed.
“Whatever it is, I don’t care, Marcella,” a slurred voice growled from somewhere under the cover, although I knew it was Vanessa, it sounded completely different, almost unnerving, so much so, a small part of me wanted to turn and leave, but I knew I could not, so I kept moving nervously forward. In the darkness, the large silk cushions scattered recklessly across the floor, made the last few steps increasingly hazardous, almost causing me to fall more than once, so it was a small relief to finally feel the hard edge of the bed. I was about to speak, when suddenly Vanessa sat up,
“I said, I didn’t care...so just fuck off !” she shouted angrily, her face appearing only a few inches away from my own. As she stared wildly at me, obviously trying to make sense of my unexpected appearance, I tried not to show the sheer horror of what was in front of me, her eyes were almost blood red, her hair hung in tangled knots and her face seemed to almost glow white, it was so pale, aside from deep lines running down each drawn cheek. As no words came readily to me, I touched her cheek , it felt cold and lifeless, for a moment, Vanessa remained motionless, then pulled away.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Carrie ?” she snarled, she turned away from me, crawled back towards the ornate headboard and slumped hard, almost crashing into one of the heavily-decorated bedposts.
“I came to see you,” I began quietly, still with no idea of how, or even if, I could help her, Vanessa peered at me through her straggled hair,
&n
bsp; “Well, here I am, take a good fucking look, then leave, “ she ordered, she reached for a bottle from the cluttered bedside table, knocking the lamp, making the glass shade shudder with the impact. As I watched, she gulped the contents down, rivers of red wine poured down either side of her mouth, as she unsuccessfully tried to hold the bottle steady. Once exhausted, she hurled it across the room, when it hit the fireplace, the dark, glass shattered, causing a shower of splinters to rain down across the carpet. She looked back at me again,
“I thought I told you to fuck off,” she muttered angrily, much as I hated to see her so obviously racked with despair, I knew she would not respond to sympathy, so I sat down on the edge of the bed, then looked back at her defiantly. When she realised I was not going to leave, she sat up again, sighed heavily,
“Why the hell did you come ?” she asked wearily.
“Well, I heard you weren’t doing too well..” I began, looking her up and down, “But you don’t seem too bad,” almost despite herself, I saw the smallest glimmer of a smile, a sure sign I had some hope of reaching her, so I continued,
“I also heard you were being obnoxious, but that’s normal, so I wasn’t too worried.”
Vanessa shook her head slightly,