Another Summer (11 page)

That lonely summer had been the longest of Evie’s life.  At first, she didn’t believe Joe would disappear without an explanation.  But when she heard in the village that Steve Dryden had gone back to York, she had to accept there was no chance of Joe coming back to Cornwall  without him.

Heartbroken, she went through the motions, swimming as usual, pretending to read.  But it became increasingly hard to concentrate on anything.  By the end of August, she’d missed two periods.  

Pregnant.  Even the word was terrifying as it hovered in the background, demanding to be dealt with.  There was nobody she could tell, certainly not her grandmother who would be shocked and disappointed.  Vanessa was working at her hotel in Edinburgh and her parents were still sending cheery postcards from ports they visited on their cruise.

At long last, the day came when she was to be collected.  It would be a relief to get away from Cornwall.  She was certain she’d never come back.  Her dad looked bronzed but grouchy as he kissed her absent-mindedly.  He was on his own.

“Where’s Mum?”

“Where indeed?  Couldn’t be bothered to come.  Too busy discovering herself.”

He made a drama of pulling out a chair and settling himself at the kitchen table.  Granny Barbara busied herself fetching tea and scones for her son.  Evie hovered, feeling sick with apprehension.

“I tell you this cruise has gone to her head.  The whole trip has been about fancy hairstyles, fancier clothes.  Making a fool of herself flirting with every Tom, Dick and Harry on the boat.  She’s never been satisfied being a schoolteacher’s wife.”

“Michael, that’s ridiculous,” Granny Barbara scolded.  “You’ve been married over twenty years.”

“So why is she talking about going into business?  Her own boutique, no less.”

“And you don’t approve?”

“Of course I don’t bloody approve!  Why would I?  She’ll be turning our lives upside down for nothing.  What does she even know about a business like that?  It’s years since she worked in that dress shop.”

“Hardly just a dress shop, dear.  Wasn’t the owner a designer?”

“Next thing we know she’ll be wanting to take up modelling again.  Imagine!  At her age!”

“It’s nearly a new millennium, Michael.  Maxine is still a very attractive woman.”

“She thinks she’s spotted a gap in the market, smart  occasion clothes for women who don’t want to dress like their daughters or their mothers, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

“She may just have a point.”

“Her place is at home with the family.”

Evie swallowed back tears.  She’d never heard her father sound so old-fashioned.  If he was so disapproving about her mother going into business, how would he ever accept a daughter who was a single mother?

Single mother?  That was the first time she’d said that, even to herself.  Did that mean she wanted to keep the baby?  And what of her own mother?  If Maxine was going back to modelling, she wouldn’t take kindly to being a grandmother.  It was all so bewildering.  Evie just didn’t know what to do.

So she did nothing.  Said nothing.  She went back to school to start her A-levels, avoiding any gossip about summer crushes and scandals.  She buried herself in her books, praying that if she ignored it for long enough, her problem would go away.

But it got worse.  It seemed that as soon as she stopped throwing up all the time, her school skirt started to cut her in two.  The zip broke and she had to keep it fastened with safety pins and a bit of elastic.  She wore long baggy jumpers to cover everything up but she knew that wouldn’t do forever.

She longed for somebody to put their arms around her and tell her everything would be alright.  She wanted to tell her mother but Maxine never seemed to be at home on her own.  And the longer Evie left it, the harder it was to say anything.

One day in November, she trudged home from school in the biting wind.  Tonight, she’d decided.  She’d tell them tonight.  She guessed she was about four months pregnant and she couldn’t go on any longer carrying such a secret on her own.

But the words she’d carefully rehearsed were forgotten when she saw the two bulging suitcases in the hall of the bungalow.  Maxine came out of the bedroom wearing a new winter coat and scarlet leather gloves.

“What’s going on, Mum?”

Maxine was obviously startled to see her.  “I thought you were going to the library?”

“I wanted to talk to you.  Where are you going?”

“I found the perfect property in Harrogate for my boutique.  I need to be there to oversee the renovations.”

“You’re going to Harrogate?  When will you be back?”

A car tooted outside.  Maxine made to open the door but Evie was standing in her way.

“The thing is, love, I’m not planning on coming back.”  She pointed behind her, to the door of Evie’s room.  “I left a note for you, explaining things.”

“You were going to leave without saying goodbye?  Does Dad know?”

“I’m sorry, love, but I didn’t want to give him the chance to stop me.  I’ve had more than I can take of his chauvinistic attitude.  He’s stifling me.  I have to get away or I’ll go mad.”

Evie choked back horrified tears.  “But what about me?  Can I come with you?”

“You’ll be fine here with your dad.  You’ve always been a daddy’s girl.  You’re grown up now, doing well in school.  You don’t need me like you did when you were little.”

Maxine put her hands on Evie’s shoulders but Evie shrugged her off.  She didn’t want to be fobbed off with a hug.

“But I do need you!  You don’t understand.”

“Look, when I get settled, of course you can come and stay.  There’s a nice flat with a spare room.  I’ll do it up so it’s pretty for you.”  The car tooted again.  “That’s my cab.  I have to go.”

“Don’t!  Please?”

“I’m sorry but you’re sixteen now.  Please try and understand what it’s been like for me.  This is my chance to have my independence back.  You don’t know how precious that is.  You’ll have choices I never had.  Don’t waste your opportunities.”

As the door closed quietly behind her mother, Evie sat on the floor, right there in the hall and sobbed as if her heart would break.  She’d never felt so frightened.  Or so lonely.

Her dad became an old man overnight.  He just sat in front of the telly drinking whisky.  Evie cooked for them, tried to keep things normal.  Ate as little as possible so she wouldn’t put on weight.  But every day, her secret got bigger and harder to hide.

Maxine wrote.  Cheery letters full of life in Harrogate.  Evie couldn’t write back.  She felt cold and ill.  She wished she was dead.

Vanessa came home for the Christmas weekend.  She looked like a stranger with her trendy new clothes and grown-up highlights in her bobbed hair.  It seemed that as soon as she’d dumped her bags, she was out again.  Partying.  Catching up.  Never being at home.

Christmas day was grim.  The sisters cooked a miserable turkey dinner and washed up while their dad slept it off in front of the telly.  Maxine had sent presents before jetting off to the South of France with friends nobody had heard of. 

“Lucky mum,” Vanessa sighed.  “Bet she isn’t eating rubbery turkey.”

“I hope she’s choking on it.  I hate her!”

A dinner plate slipped from Evie’s hand.  As it smashed on the terracotta floor, she burst into tears.

Vanessa looked shocked.  “It’s only a plate.”

“It isn’t only a plate,” Evie sobbed.  “It’s everything.  I can’t cope anymore.  I don’t know what to do.”

“Do about what?”  Vanessa dried her hands and led Evie to a chair.  “Come on, spit it out.”

“I think I might be pregnant.”

Evie sat down at the kitchen table, dabbing at her eyes.  It had been such a relief to cry, to have Vanessa hold her while she poured out all her fears and heartache.

“You poor thing, having to keep it to yourself all this time.”

“I just didn’t know who to tell.  I’ve been avoiding all my friends since the summer and Dad’s been impossible since mum left, you’ve seen him yourself.”

“Mum’s going to be so upset about letting you down.”

“You aren’t siding with her?  She’s not interested in anything but her shop.  I hate her!”

“Look, she told me a bit more about what had been going on.  I think I understand better now.  But I’m sure she’d have changed her plans if she’d known about you.” 

“I doubt that,” Evie scoffed.  “You weren’t here, you don’t know what it was like.  Nothing was going to stop her getting into that taxi.  And when did you talk to her, anyway?”

“She came up to Edinburgh to see me.  Said she’d rung home a few times but you wouldn’t take her calls.  But I can see why you wouldn’t want to tell her on the phone.  We’ll sort something out.  Don’t worry.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

It was a relief that her secret was out but now she had to face up to it and her knees were trembling like jelly.  Vanessa put the kettle on for coffee, which Evie couldn’t even smell without feeling sick.  She sipped her glass of water.

“Do you know how far along you are?”

“I’ve been too scared to go to the doctor.  But I guess around five months.”

“That far?  Too late for an abortion, then.”

“I don’t know if I could do that anyway,” Evie shivered. 

“Well, after the holidays, I can go to the doctor’s with you, if you like?  But what about the boy?  Have you told him?”

“No.”  Evie’s eyes filled again.  “He’s called Joe Marsh, one of Steve Dryden’s friends from uni.  I haven’t seen him since the summer.”

“And you didn’t think to use something?”

“It wasn’t planned like that.  But he wasn’t just anyone,” Evie stressed.  “I thought I was falling in love with him.”

“And I bet he was very persuasive?  That lot think they run the world.  We should try and find him.”

“No!  I’d be too embarrassed to get in touch with him now, after all this time.”

“You don’t have to marry him or anything,” Vanessa insisted, patting Evie’s hand.  “But why should he get away scott free?  He should be made to face up to what he did.  We should ring Steve’s mother and get his address.”

“Vanessa, don’t!”

Evie felt trapped.  She’d longed for help but now it all seemed to be running away from her.

“Why not?  She knows us.  She won’t think it’s strange, us wanting to catch up with Steve.”

One phone call later, Vanessa had an address and a phone number scribbled on the back of a Christmas card.

“Steve stayed at his flat in York for Christmas.  I told her I was working there at the moment.  I’ll drive you there tomorrow.”

“But it’s Boxing Day tomorrow.  We don’t need to actually go, do we?  Can’t we just ring?”

“Definitely not.  Far too easy for Steve to lie and say he’s never heard of Joe Marsh.  And if it’s Boxing Day, he’s more likely to be at home.”  

Evie couldn’t bring herself to tell Vanessa that Joe shared the flat with Steve.  She knew, if she hadn’t been avoiding more humiliation, she could have made that call herself, months ago.  And now, on top of everything else, Joe would be able to compare her to Vanessa and wonder what he’d been thinking.  

Evie had thought she had no more tears to shed but all through that night she cried into her pillow.  She felt swamped all over again by the sick feeling of rejection.  First Joe.  Then her mother, made worse by the knowledge she’d made the effort to go and see Vanessa.  And now Vanessa was making her turn up unannounced on Joe’s doorstep.

“You look terrible,” Vanessa said next morning as she made Evie eat some toast.  “You’d best put on some make up, cover up those black circles.”

“What does it matter?”

“You don’t want to show up looking like some charity case, do you?  This Joe character must have fancied you once.  If we do find him, we need to show him what he’s missing.  Get back upstairs and put something nice on.”

“But nothing fits.”

“Oh Evie, don’t be so wet.  We need a bit of fighting spirit.  Don’t give in before we’ve even got there.”

The whole thing was unbearable.  Evie’s stomach was in knots but it was easier to go along with Vanessa’s bossiness.  And she did feel better with a bit of colour on her face and her new red coat hiding the worst of her lumps and bumps.

Traffic on the motorway was light.  It didn’t take long to hit the outskirts of York.  Nowhere near long enough for Evie who didn’t have a clue what she was going to say.  Was she meant to just knock on the door and come right out with it?

She barely knew Joe really.  A few hazy summer days, that’s all they’d had.  She could hardly expect him to stand by her, could she?  If that was even what she was hoping for?  But he did have a right to know he was going to be a father.  Didn’t he? 

It was one of those crisp winter days which put a sparkle on the trees and make everything optimistically festive.  Evie allowed herself the tiniest glimmer of hope.  Until Vanessa pulled up right outside a tall Georgian house with the shiny brass number they’d been looking for.

“Why are you parking here?  I feel sick enough as it is.”

“What were you planning to do?  Hide in the car?”

“Yes, please?”  Evie begged.

“We’ve come this far, come on.”  Vanessa undid their seatbelts and almost dragged Evie up the stone steps to a smart navy door.  “Not your usual student hovel, is it?  Leave it to the Drydens to set up their boy in style.”

There was no answer when Vanessa rang the bell.

“Maybe he’s still in bed,” Evie said, hoping that meant they could go.

“Lazy sod!”

Vanessa rang the bell again, longer and harder this time.  Evie could barely breathe, her heart was hammering so loudly.  This time, the door was opened by a girl, looking tiny in nothing but a man’s black shirt.  She yawned, making it obvious that she had indeed still been in bed.

“Did you want something?” she asked, pulling the shirt tighter when nobody said anything.  “It’s bloody freezing out here.”

Evie just stared at the girl in dismay.  Even with bed hair, she was gorgeous.  What chance did Evie have next to an older girl like that?

“My name’s Vanessa Lee and this is my sister, Evie.  We’re looking for Steve Dryden.  Is this his flat?”

“I’m Steve’s girlfriend,” she said pointedly.  “Why do you want him?”

“Actually, we were hoping Steve could help us find a mate of his.  Joe Marsh?”

“Oh?  Why?” 

“We’re friends of his.”

“Really?  Well, I’m Heather, Joe’s sister and I never heard of you.”

Evie could see it now, the clear resemblance to Joe.  Her eyes flooded with tears, a mixture of relief and downright terror.  She hung onto Vanessa as her knees began to give way.

“Hey, are you okay?” Heather frowned.  “Look, you’d better come in.  Mind the stairs in the dark, the bulb went but they’re so steep nobody wants to stand up there to change it.”

Upstairs, Heather showed them into a room with walls the colour of creamy custard, dotted here and there with film posters.  The shutters at the tall windows had been painted matt black and covered in Christmas cards and scraps of memorabilia.  Apart from a couple of bentwood chairs, there was no furniture.  The carpet had been rolled back against the wall, revealing dusty wooden boards.  There was a giant sound system and beer cans all over.

“Sorry about the mess.  Stinks a bit, I’ll open a window.  We’ve had a couple of parties.  You know how it is?”

Evie didn’t know how it was.  In her world, Christmas had been dismal.  

“Have a seat.  I’ll just throw on some clothes.  Be back in a tick.”

It was freezing with the sash window open.  Evie and Vanessa sat in apprehensive silence until Heather reappeared carrying a tray with a proper teapot and a plate of mince pies.  She’d fastened the shirt and had pulled on a pair of jeans tucked into a thick pair of hiking socks.

She turned on the gas fire.  “Have a mince pie.  Have a few.  Please?  We’re sick of the sight of them.”

Vanessa took one.  Evie thought she’d be sick if she even smelled one.  But she was desperate for a drink so she poured herself a cup of tea.

“Do you live here?”  Vanessa asked.

“Not officially.  I have my own place but this flat’s nicer than mine.  Bigger, more sociable.  I’m hanging onto mine for now, though.  Keeps Steve on his toes.  I’ve been staying over Christmas.  Saved me from choosing between my three competitive sisters.”

Evie decided she quite liked Heather.  She relaxed a fraction.  Maybe Heather would be able to help.

“So, how do you know my brother?”

“I met him in Cornwall, in the summer.”

“And now you’re here looking for him?”

Evie shuffled uncomfortably in her chair.  Surely the first person to know should be Joe himself, not his sister, however nice she was?

“Oh, I get it,” Heather nodded, waving the crust of a mince pie in the air.  “You’re pregnant, right?  Why else would you turn up on the doorstep looking terrified?  How do you know it’s Joe’s?”

“There hasn’t been anyone else.”

“I see.  How old are you, Evie?”

“She’s sixteen and your brother needs to face up to his responsibilities.”

“Really?  Good luck with that one.”  Heather tossed aside the remains of the pie.  “I’m not trying to be difficult but I should warn you, Joe’s not himself at the moment.”

“Sounds like an excuse to me,” Vanessa scoffed.  “If you know where he is, you should tell us.”

Heather looked at Evie for an endless moment.  Her eyes seemed half defensive, half loaded with pity.  Evie couldn’t tell if the pity was for her or for Joe as Heather stood up and put her mug on top of the gas fire.

“Wait there.  But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Again, the girls were left looking at each other when Heather disappeared.  As they waited, Evie started to wish she hadn’t risked the tea.  Then the door opened again.  But, it wasn’t Heather standing there.  It was Joe.

Evie stared at him as he leaned on the door frame, rubbing sleep from his eyes.  She couldn’t believe the change in him.  Naked but for a pair of black boxers, he looked pale and almost skinny.  And he’d got a tattoo, a wild cat that seemed to be crawling over his shoulder and down his chest, one paw reaching out, as if to grab at something.  Had she really been in love with him?

“Do you remember me?”

He barely nodded and she flinched at his hostile expression.  He hadn’t moved from the doorway, his sleepy eyes dull and unfocussed.  He was either drunk or very hungover.

“You left without saying a word.”

“Train to catch.”

“Evie’s pregnant,” Vanessa snapped.

“So?”

Vanessa looked like she wanted to hit him.  She wrenched open Evie’s coat to reveal her rounded belly.  Evie was near to tears, she just wanted to disappear into the ground.

“Count back to Cornwall, five months ago,” Vanessa insisted.  “This is your baby.”

He shrugged.  “And?”

“And we thought you should know.”

“So now I do.”

Evie was shocked by his scowl and the utter coldness of his reaction.  She didn’t know what to do next.  It was clear he didn’t care and her precious memories of him were nothing but illusions.  He didn’t want her or their baby.  She’d been a fool to imagine that he might.  But she wasn’t going to let him see her cry about it.

Biting the inside of her lip, she stood up and walked past him, out of the room.  She didn’t look at him and he didn’t try and stop her leaving.  Outside, she ran down the street, as fast as she could to get away from him.  Her stomach heaved from a mixture of tea and disappointment.

It was raining now, no trace left of the wintry sun.  Just flurries of sleet and a biting wind.  She dragged her coat around her, feeling cheap and stupid.  She had no money and no way of earning any but one thing had become crystal clear.  She wouldn’t be rejecting her baby, just because its father had.  Who needed him?

There was a playground at the end of the street.  She sat down on the slushy roundabout to catch her breath.  It was deserted.  Probably all the local children would be having their lunch.  She wondered if they all had mums and dads.  Most likely they all had nannies, it looked that sort of area.

Her baby wouldn’t have a nanny.  But it would have a mother.  She’d have to make sure that was enough.

“Thank Christ!  There you are!  What are you doing out here?  You’re drenched.”

She jumped at Vanessa’s voice.  Heather and Vanessa were sharing a large golf umbrella.  Evie had barely noticed her own hair dripping onto her shoulders.

“I just wanted some air, needed to think.”