‘I don’t think I can eat anything else until Christmas!’ Lydia exclaimed even as she reached for another salmon
and cream cheese sandwich.
‘Me neither,’ I said through a mouthful of coffee cake. We still had quite a bit left of what we’d paid for, and if we took it home it would probably go stale before I was hungry again, so I wanted to eat as much of it as I could. I was full, but the food had been so delicious that I knew I’d regret leaving a single crumb.
‘So, are you going to tell me what we’re doing tonight then?’ Lydia asked excitedly after the waiter delivered a bottle of prosecco to the table. It was served in a bucket with ice, and he’d poured us each a glass before leaving the table.
This time, I nodded. ‘Yes. I think I will. I think I’ve put you through enough wondering and waiting.’
Lydia clapped her hands together excitedly.
I smiled and dug into my handbag for Michael’s list and the envelope with the tickets inside.
I couldn’t decide which to show her first, so I bit the bullet and placed the envelope in front of her, keeping Michael’s list clasped in my hands. I was nervous about her reaction.
She eagerly opened the envelope, careful not to tear what was inside it. I watched her tentatively as she took out the tickets. ‘We’re seeing an opera?’ she said beamed. Her tone was low, grateful, and pleasant surprise lit her face.
I nodded, touched by her reaction. ‘I know you always wanted to go. And Michael always wanted to take you.’
Her eyes softened with warmth. ‘He did? Did he say so?’
I shook my head. ‘Not exactly.’ I placed the list in front of her.
Her eyes darted from side to side as she read the list. ‘He had a bucket list? And this is on it?’
I nodded and swallowed a lump of emotion. ‘I found it a few weeks ago inside one of his books. He never showed it to me when he was alive.’
‘When did he write this?’
‘When he had cancer,’ I replied, still trying to dodge that ball of sadness from where it stuck in my throat. ‘I found it with a letter he’d written for me. I’ve decided to complete the list for him. None of the things on there were ticked off when he died.’
Lydia welled up as she realised what we were doing here. ‘Oh, my goodness. This… today, was all Michael’s idea?’
I nodded again. ‘Yes. He wanted to treat you. So I’m doing it for him.’
‘My word,’ she whispered, apparently still in shock.
‘There’s something else,’ I said, taking a deep breath; I didn’t know how she’d react to what I planned on telling her next.
She looked at me, overwhelmed.
I tucked my hair behind my ears. ‘The earrings,’ I began, ‘do you like them?’
Lydia smiled again but looked a bit puzzled. ‘Yes, they’re beautiful. Did he buy you them before he died?’
I shook my head. ‘They’re made from his ashes,’ I said delicately.
Her brows raised, and for a moment I worried that she was angry. But then she rolled up her sleeve and searched for a charm on her Pandora bracelet. She pointed to an emerald with her polished red nail. ‘You see this one?’
I nodded.
Lydia smiled. ‘That’s Julia. Dave had it made for me a couple of years ago. I’d love to have one of Michael as well.’
‘Of course,’ I said, reaching across the table to hold her hand. ‘We’ll do it.’
‘Thank you, Lina,’ she said. Her voice was thick with emotion. ‘Thank you for today. Thank you for everything. Thank you for giving me a piece of my son back today.’
The music was beautiful, the costumes were lavish, and the set design was flawless and grandiose.
Lydia and I watched the astounding performance in awe, tearing up throughout, each carefully dabbing at our eyes with tissues so as not to ruin our expertly applied makeup.
It was a night to remember, one I’d cherish forever. In my head I could see Michael smiling at me, smiling at his mother with pure happiness written all over his face. I saw him sat next to us, clapping his hands together, welling up himself when the third and final act came to a close.
Once the performance was over, and the theatre had started to empty, Lydia remained in her seat. She began to sob. I held her hand tightly in mine, and when her sobs wouldn’t stop and turned into distraught cries, I held her in my arms. She thanked me over and over for a trip she’d never forget, as she cried for the son who, even in death, had made one of her wishes come true, and in doing so, had told her one last time just how much he loved her.
Chapter Sixteen
13th July 2013
‘How’s the search going, love?’ Dad asked as he came into the living room with two cups of tea. He set one down on the coffee table beside me.
‘It could be better,’ I grumbled, shutting my laptop with a sigh. ‘There isn’t much, and I only have six months before my internship ends. I’ll have to start looking for other things besides journalism. I can’t keep sponging off you and mum. I need to start making money.’
I was getting frustrated. My internship at The Globe newspaper in Manchester city centre hadn’t been exactly what I’d anticipated. I’d spent most of my time getting coffee for the other journalists, and the few stories I had been asked to write were the three-hundred-word fluff pieces that nobody seemed to care about. I’d offered to go out and look for a story myself, but they’d refused. Worst of all, it was unpaid, meaning that I’d been living off the few savings I’d made during my last year of uni when I’d taken a job at Waterstones. But those savings were running out, and I barely had enough money to pay my parents rent, never mind find somewhere to live with Michael.
In the year since we’d both graduated, Michael had got a job as a Graduate Landscape Architect in Manchester city centre. He was at least making money but not enough to support us both. He was saving every penny by living back at his parents too. It was nice being just across the road from each other again, and in some ways, with Max being back too, it felt like we were kids again.
‘You know you don’t need to worry about paying rent while you’re here. We’re just happy to have you back.’ Dad smiled as he sat down next to me and took a sip of his tea.
‘I know, dad. But I feel bad. I don’t want to be a teenager again, depending on you and Mum for everything. I want to make my own way,’ I said, placing my laptop on the floor in front of me.
‘You will, Lina,’ Dad soothed. ‘You’re only twenty-two. You only graduated a year ago. Do you know how many people would kill even to have the internship you have? It might not be what you wanted, but it’s a great start, and the pieces you have written have been brilliant.’
I scoffed. ‘Which one did you prefer? The one about the new lamppost bulbs or the one about the increase in the price of tram tickets?’
Dad smiled. ‘Both were equally brilliant. You’re a wonderful writer, Elina. Have you thought about going freelance? Maybe picking up a part-time job in a café or something and writing on the side?’
I shook my head and picked up my cup of tea. ‘I haven’t. But maybe when my internship finishes I could think about it.’
‘You could write about anything you wanted,’ Dad said enthusiastically. ‘All it takes is a few good pieces, and then you’d be in demand.’
‘That sounds nice.’ I smiled and rested my head on Dad’s shoulder. ‘A long way off, but nice.’
‘It’ll be worth the wait,’ said Dad.
Just then, we heard the front door go. ‘Hello, I’m home!’ Mum’s cheery voice sounded from the hall.
‘Hi,’ Dad and I both called out.
Seconds later, Mum appeared in the lounge laden with shopping bags. She’d been shopping with Michael’s mum, in search of something to wear for Dave’s fiftieth tomorrow afternoon. They were having a barbecue over at the house, and they’d got a bouncy castle for the children that’d be coming. They were even hoping that Michael’s sister Genevieve might make an a
ppearance. They hadn’t seen her for a couple of years and, as troublesome as she was, I knew Lydia and Dave missed their daughter terribly. I knew how guilty they felt about how everything had turned out.
‘I take it you didn’t find anything then?’ Dad joked, eyeing the bags.
Mum laughed. ‘I’ve got a couple of options to try, and I got something for you too, Elina.’
‘Oh, thanks, Mum,’ I said with a grateful smile. ‘But you shouldn’t have.’
Mum waved a dismissive hand and proceeded to rummage through her bags. ‘Oh don’t worry, it was in the sale at Next. I thought you might want to wear it for the barbecue tomorrow. It’s a lovely coral colour. I saw it and thought it’d really suit you. Lydia did too. Ah-ha, here it is.’ Mum pulled out a lovely maxi dress and handed it across to me. Coral, like she said, with a lace overlay at the top.
‘Aww thanks, mum. It’s gorgeous! What did you get for yourself?’ I asked.
‘Well, I got a couple to try, and I thought I’d see which one you preferred,’ she replied.
‘Just a couple! And what else is in those bags?’ Dad asked with a smirk. Since taking early retirement last year, Mum had been trying to find something to fill her days with. She’d decorated the lounge first, transforming it into a haven of grey and cream. Once she’d done that, she’d done my room, painting the walls olive green and putting down laminate flooring. Since nothing else needed doing, Mum’s new hobby was shopping, and every week she’d come home with clothes, bags, cushions, throws, shoes and all sorts of stuff, only to take half of it back the following week when she decided she no longer liked it.
She laughed. ‘It’s never too early for Christmas shopping.’
The following afternoon, my parents and I headed across the road to the Mills household. The sun was shining, and it was the first really hot day that summer. The sound of lawnmowers buzzed in the air and playing children filled the streets as they waited and waited for the tinkering tune of the ice-cream van.
In aid of the hot weather, Lydia and Dave had got out their paddling pool in place of the bouncy castle, and three children were already splashing around in it. The little tykes belonged to Rosie and Ned. Rosie was Michael’s cousin and was a few years older than us. Their family had moved to the States when she was only two or three, and she’d picked up an American accent. She’d met and married Ned about ten years ago, and this was the first time they’d brought the kids to England. Zack and Lyla were twins at four, and Xiomara was their idol at six.
I’d only met Rosie and Ned a couple of times when they’d been over, but they were lovely.
‘Elina!’ Rosie exclaimed when she saw us coming through the garden gate. She was positively glowing in a strapless teal maxi dress. Her skin was sun-kissed, and her dark hair was glossy and bouncy. Her makeup was perfect. But then, it should have been; she was a makeup artist and worked with some of the hottest celebrities in Hollywood. Ned was a successful screenwriter, and together they were a power couple, living the dream in California.
‘Rosie! You look gorgeous!’ I beamed as she hugged me.
‘Well, you look amazing! I love your hair a little lighter! And congratulations on your graduation last year! Michael said you got a First!’ Her expression was one of genuine excitement. She was always so keen to learn about people.
‘Thank you so much! I can’t believe how long it’s been,’ I said, trying to work out just how long it had been since she’d been in England.
‘I know. I think I was last here just before I got pregnant with Xiomara, so that’d be almost seven years ago!’
‘Wow! I would have still been a spotty teenager!’ I laughed.
‘Are you kidding? You were gorgeous! Michael was just showing me some pictures of your prom!’
‘Don’t get me into too much trouble!’ Michael said as he came over, two Coronas in hand. He handed one to me. He looked gorgeous in a pair of beige shorts and a short-sleeved white shirt.
His arm snaked around my waist, and I rested my head
on his shoulder.
‘So, what’s on the horizon for you two?’ Rosie asked, taking a sip of her fruity-looking drink.
Michael and I looked at each other and laughed.
‘Well, right now, it appears we have reverted to our teen years living back in our childhood homes,’ Michael said lightly.
I nodded. ‘I’m currently doing an unpaid internship at a newspaper in the city, so we don’t have too many options I’m afraid.’
‘Believe me, I’ve been there,’ Rosie said with understanding. ‘I was living on friends’ couches until I was twenty-five. So was Ned. And even when we got our own place, it was a dingy hole. You’ll get there. This is what your twenties are for.’
‘For living in a hole?’ a familiar voice said. ‘I agree with that.’
‘Max!’ Rosie exclaimed. ‘You look so good!’
He did look good. Like Michael, Max had continued his climbing at uni alongside his Biology degree, and he’d joined a gym. In his last year, the Biology department had done a calendar for charity, and he’d been Mr December. He’d posed wearing nothing but a lab coat. Uni had done wonders for his confidence. He seemed like a different person.
Muscles rippled beneath his light blue shirt, and beige shorts identical to Michael’s wrapped around his sculpted thighs. Stylish shades sat upon his nose, and his mass of corkscrew curls was tied up in a bobble.
‘Thank you, Rosie. You look lovely as always. Nearly as good as your heavily filtered photos on Facebook!’ he joked and took a swig of his beer. Since university, we’d all managed to increase our threshold for alcohol, but the bad news was the hangovers were kicking in.
‘I’ll have you know that not a single one of those is filtered, I just know my way around a makeup bag,’ Rosie said with a laugh. ‘What are you up to anyway? Aside from living in a hole, I assume?’
Max nodded. ‘Yep. Moved in last week. It’s awful. The windows don’t open, the radiators don’t work, and the landlord won’t allow me to paint the ghastly bright blue walls. But it’s home,’ he finished with a sardonic smile.
Rosie laughed. ‘And how did you afford such a fine place?’
‘Well, I’ve just got a job as a Science teacher at the high school I used to attend. I know it’s exciting, Rosie, but please, I wouldn’t want to break up such a lovely family,’ he joked. He’d spent the last year working part-time as a Teaching Assistant while completing a PGCE.
We all laughed.
‘This is so crazy! I can’t believe it. You’re all so grown up now! Proper adults seeing where life takes you!’ Rosie said.
Michael nodded. ‘We are indeed. Crushed dreams and everything!’
We laughed again.
‘Oh, it’s so good to see you guys! I have to go and get my kids dry for their food right now, but we’ll catch up later?’ Rosie smiled.
‘Definitely,’ I said with a grin.
‘She gets more and more beautiful every time I see her,’ Max said in amazement once she was out of earshot.
‘She is a makeup artist,’ Michael said. ‘And stop it. That’s my cousin.’
Max laughed and took another sip of his beer. ‘I’m only joking. You know I’d never go there. She’s married! Anyway, do we think Genevieve will be coming or not?’
I almost winced at the mention of her name.
Michael grimaced and blew out a breath. ‘I doubt it. It was looking promising until about midnight last night.’
‘What happened?’ I asked. I hadn’t spoken to Michael about it yet.
‘She rang, absolutely off her tits, and said she’d rather spend the weekend with her new boyfriend, Jez,’ Michael said. I could tell by his tone that he wasn’t surprised. And neither was I. I’d have been more surprised if she’d turned up.
‘Jez? Another drug dealer?’ Max said grimly.
Michael scoffed. ‘Probably. But it’s okay because this one is The One.’
‘This must be about her sixteenth
‘The One’,’ I added.
‘I hope she sorts herself out one day, mate,’ Max said sincerely. ‘I really thought it was just an angry teen phase she was going through. Well, a really long one.’
‘I think we all did,’ I said sadly. ‘She could have really done something with her life.’
‘She could. But I think if my mum overhears us talking about her it’ll set her off again. She was in a bit of a state this morning, so let’s change the subject?’ Michael said.
‘Absolutely,’ I agreed. I looked over to Lydia. She was laughing at something my dad had said, but it was a little too forced. She was putting on such a brave face. She always did when it came to Genevieve.
Max sighed and quickly thought of something to say. ‘So, Lina, I heard your friend from uni is moving to Manchester?’
A little while later, we were all sat down to eat at a long table in the Mills’ garden. There were ten people either side and Michael’s dad, Dave, sat at the head. Upon the table were plates and plates of barbecue food; chicken, sausage, ribs, burgers, kebabs, salmon. There was so much that we knew we’d be wrapping some up for lunch the following day.
Once we’d all finished, and everyone was nursing their after-dinner coffees, Dave got to his feet to make a speech.
‘First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you for coming tonight. Some of you have come all the way from America just to celebrate my birthday, so I really mean it when I say how much I appreciate that,’ he said in a warm tone. ‘I want to especially thank my wife of twenty-seven years, Lydia, for basically arranging this whole thing and decorating the garden with all these fancy fairy lights and balloons. You’ve worked so hard, and I love you so much for everything you do.’
Everyone ‘aww’ed, and I caught Lydia wiping a tear from her eye with a napkin. It didn’t take much more than the verse of a greeting card to set her off.
Michael reached over and squeezed my hand. I lifted our hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles.
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