What Goes Around... (12 page)

Bonny’s got big plans, it would seem. I just don’t want to hear them; I cannot rationally discuss one more single thing.

‘I’ll take it on board,’ I tell her, for perhaps the twentieth time, as I show them to the door.

As I close it, like mice creeping out, they all come into the hall.

‘Charlotte’s asleep.’ Mum says, pretending she’s just come out of her room, pretending that she wasn’t sitting listening on the stairs.

‘Do you want a drink?’ Jess says holding up a bottle of wine.

‘God, yes.’

‘And me,
’ Luke says and then he grimaces. ‘Sorry, Valerie.’

‘No, go ahead,’ Mum says. ‘It doesn’t bother me.’

‘Bonny doesn’t think a church hall is good enough,’ I explain. ‘She wants some fancy hotel. I just don’t think that I can face it.’

‘Whatever you do,’ Jess points out, ‘some people will still come back here afterwards, so why not just have it here in the first place?’

‘Wouldn't it be better to have it somewhere neutral?’ Luke repeats Bonny’s argument.

‘What?’ Jess snaps. ‘So they can all carry on as if Lucy doesn't exist!’

‘Jess!’ Luke stops her, after all, he's long been in the Jameson camp but Jess is having none of it.

‘It's true!’ Jess says. ‘They want a say in everything, yet I don’t see them putting their hands up to pay the bill. The readings, the prayers, the hymns, the flowers, have all been chosen by them and now Bonny’s kicking up about the reception venue!’ Jess looks at me. ‘Have it here. Have
it in the home that he lived in with you and if it makes them uncomfortable, then good. They've made you feel uncomfortable plenty of times.’ There’s a long silence before she continues. ‘It might be better for Charlotte to be at home.’

Luke looks thoroughly pissed off but he says nothing.

‘She can play with her friends in the garden or, if it all gets too much, she can just hide in her room,’ Jess says. She does make a good point, because Luke gives a reluctant nod.

‘I can help,’ Mum says and I feel my jaw clamp down so hard that I can’t even open it to argue as she twitters on. ‘My friends will help, I’ll speak to them tomorrow
.’

At her meeting.

God, that’s the last thing I need.

I’ve spent my life keeping my worlds apart and now they’ll all be coming together, in this very room. Everything that I’ve carefully separated will be curdling right here under this roof. The last thing I need is the bloody AA mob here with their piles of sandwiches and slices – honestly, they’re like machines at organising funeral
s. I can just imagine Bonny sneering as my mum passes round egg sandwiches and my friends will be sneering too.

My jaw unclamps.

I have to stay in control here.

‘I'll get it catered…’

‘He can’t do that.’

I look to Luke and I look to Jess and I want one of them to agree with me, to tell me that I’m right, that, no, he can’t do that.

He can’t just leave me the house and our savings and his insurance to his children, because A) There aren’t any savings (though I don’t say that) and B) ‘They’re hardly children!’

The latter I voice.

‘You can contest it,’ Jess says. ‘Can’t she Luke?’

‘She could,’ Luke says slowly, looking at me as he speaks. ‘But I don’t know how well she’d go. It’s his living wishes, he changed them in January.’ I feel this twist in my gut and my fingers are pressed tight in my palms, as I further learn, how much this man can deceive, how little about him I know. ‘He’s asked that all his children be provided for. Lucy has the house and there is enough to cover the school fees. It’s not an awful lot that he’s leaving his children.’

‘They’re not children!’ I say it again, only a lot louder this time. ‘And it’s an awful lot when you times it by three.’

‘Four,’ Luke says, because part of it is being left in trust for Charlotte. ‘Look, let’s talk about it another time. Let’s just get through the funeral tomorrow.’

‘No!’ I’m furious. I want this sorted now. We hadn’t been going to talk about money till later but it wouldn’t wait. The undertakers wanted a massive deposit and, given Luke’s an accountant and how close they were, he’s sort of dealing with that side of things and I want this dealt with right now. ‘I want to know my options.’ I feel sick, I honestly feel sick. It never dawned on me; it never entered my head that it might come to this. We have mortgage insurance and life-insurance but not much else. It would seem that my late husband hasn’t just been screwing her, he's been wining and dining her too and there are the credit card bills to prove it. She got flowers and champagne and hotel rooms.

I’ll stand up in court if I have to, I'll tell those
children
what a cheating bastard their father was - but then, a mocking voice inside my head chimes up – they already know that – after all, he left them for me.

The front door opens and it’s my mum bringing back Charlotte. I asked her to pick up the dress that I’ve chosen for Charlotte for tomorrow.

It’s linen and a very dark navy, because I don’t want her wearing black. It’s beautiful.

Or it was.

‘I’ve saved you sixty pounds,’ Mum says as I rip it out of her hands. She’s been to the market again. ‘Lucy, you can’t tell the difference,’ she responds to my protests.

Till Charlotte self-combusts.

‘It’s acrylic!’ My face contorts. ‘She’ll have sparks coming off her when she walks. Jesus, Mum.’ I’m raging; she does this sort of thing all the time!  ‘One thing! The ONE THING that I ask you to do and you go and stuff it up.’

‘Lucy!’ It’s another warning from Luke but Jess steps in.

‘She’s upset, Valerie.’ Jess takes Mum off to the kitchen for a cup of tea and Charlotte is pleading for Jess and Luke to stay. I know they won’t say no to her but my head is pounding. I just want to go and lie down.

I want to be Eleanor.

Instead, Luke drives Mum home and then, once he’s back, Charlotte heads off to bed and we start setting up the lounge and things.

‘Bonny had another go at me.’ I haven’t got the energy to move furniture. I honestly don’t. I don’t think I’ve got the energy to even get upstairs to bed.

I flop on the sofa and close my eyes and I think there might even be a couple of tears, because they actually hurt as they slide out. ‘Do you think Gloria will be there tomorrow?’ I’m scared to face her at his funeral; I’m scared of having all his kids here in this room. I’m scared to have everybody looking at me and so many with loathing - for so many reasons I'm dreading tomorrow and I especially don’t want to see Gloria.

‘I'm not sure if she’s coming,’ Luke says. ‘She might want to be there for her daughters.’

That’s another thing you don't think of when you marry that sexy older guy, you don't think of his funeral.

‘I’m going to contest,’ I suddenly say. It’s been on my mind since he told me the news and I’ve made up my mind now.

‘Just leave it for now,’ Jess suggests.

‘I’ve made up my mind,’ I say. ‘I’ve got no choice.’

‘You could sell the house and get something smaller.’ Luke chimes in.

‘What?’

‘Well, it’s pretty big just for you and Charlotte. It's a lot to maintain on your own.’ My head is spinning, thinking of the cleaner, the gardener, the windows. All the people I’ll have to pay and I won't have any money because he’s left it to his children. ‘Do you really need five bedrooms?’ Luke asks. He’s enjoying this, I’m sure. He’s not smiling of course and no one, not even Jess could guess, but I know that he's enjoying this, enjoying watching Princess Lucy get her come-uppance.

I love my house, and I'm not giving
it up. I’m not having Charlotte change her school, or leave her home, just because her dad couldn't keep it in his pants. I’m not going under just because he took too much stuff to keep it up. Especially not when he wouldn’t even use it for me…

‘You don't have to think about it now,’ Jess says gently. ‘Though it might be something to consider. It’s a very big house and all those bedrooms…’

‘I wanted another baby,’ I start to cry. ‘The front one was going to be a nursery, we were going to try…’ That shuts them up; Jess comes around the table and puts her arms around me. I'm sure you've already guessed, I’m lying through my tears, there were never going to be any more babies, I made sure of that many years ago. I was terrified enough to have one. I weep on Jess about the babies we were hoping to have, it’s my chance to garner some much needed sympathy and I steal a look at Luke, my eyes pleading for him to do something, to sort this mess out but do you know what he says? Oh, not when Jess is around, he waits till she's gone to the kitchen to get me some water. I sit gulping and trying to be brave and wishing Jess would hurry up, because I can feel the appraisal of his gaze. I can feel the simmering dislike crossing the room and I know I'm not imagining it, I've never been imagining it, but he confirms his loathing now.

‘Bravo, Lucy!’ I look up and his face is as cold and as hard as granite, his grey eyes as cold as sleet. I can't believe he would say that, that he could insinuate that I’m putting it on, even though I am, well just a little bit. He doesn't know what I’m going through, he doesn't know what I came home to find, he doesn't know the shit hole my marriage was. I deserve the bloody house for what I put up with. But more than that, so much more than that, I cannot believe that he would speak to a woman like that on the day before her husband's funeral.

Bastard
!

I don't say it, I let my eyes do the talking, yet I regret that too because the savage look I give him pays into his theory. He gives a brief smirk as Jess comes back and I remember again that he hates me.

Then I remember something else.

M
y face starts to burn, because of course Luke would know that he’d had a vasectomy.

Luke
had driven him home afterwards.

Shit!

‘What’s wrong?’ I see Charlotte pinched face at the door.

‘Nothing is wrong,’ I say, which is a stupid answer – I should have just said I was missing her dad. ‘Go back to bed, Charlotte. You’ve got a big day tomorrow’

‘I want a drink.’

‘Get a drink and then go back to bed.’ I just can't deal with Charlotte right now. I just want to go to sleep and for it to be the day after tomorrow. I want this nightmare to stop and to just wake up and for none of it to have happened, but Charlotte isn’t going to bed easily tonight.

‘Can I just check Facebook?’ She's over at the computer. ‘Please. All my friends are in-boxing me to say good luck for tomorrow.’ I’m too weary to argue and so I let her.

I close my eyes as she reels off all her messages and I murmur, “that’s kind”, or “that’s nice,” and then she tells me that ‘Daniel’s starving.’

Daniel is Eleanor’s son. Charlotte messages him back and then laughs when she gets a response. ‘They’re at Gloria’s and it’s chaos and no-one’s made dinner…’

I hate Facebook, there’s just too much information on it, if you ask me. As if I want to know what’s going on at Gloria’s house. I just want to close my eyes and go to sleep.

‘Mum!’ I hear an excited squeal from the computer and I open my eyes. ‘She’s called Daisy - they chose my name!  Daisy Lydia Jameson. She's got the same surname as me!’

‘Jameson?’ Luke frowns.

‘She's not Noel’s,’ I tell him. Clearly it’s all out in the public now.

God, what a mess.

Luke and Jess say goodnight. Jess gives me a cuddle and Luke does what he always does – jiggles his keys and gives me a nod. ‘We’ll be round at eight,’ he says.

‘Eight?’ The funeral is not until twelve.

But he doesn’t elaborate, just jiggles his keys again as Jess gives me another cuddle. I put Charlotte to bed and thankfully she falls asleep, happy now, that she thinks she's named a baby. I try to sleep but I’m too wired, and about midnight I wander downstairs and sit at the computer. Normally, Charlotte’s paranoid about logging out, but she hasn't tonight. I can't help but go on and have a little peek. Sure enough Facebook wars are breaking out between Noel’s family and the Jamesons.

And then a little window pops up.

Go to bed
!

I blink. W
hat the hell is Luke doing messaging me?

You need to sleep and your mum needs a break
.

I realise I’m
logged on as Charlotte and she’s friends with Jess and Luke. I realised that he’s still typing.

Are you worried about tomorrow?

Yes.
I type back

Jess and I will be there for you – if it all gets too much you just come and find one of us. For now you need to get some sleep
.
I cannot tell you the comfort this gives me. Well not so much that Luke will be there, but Jess. She’s been so great. Okay, they’ve both been great. I cringe again when I remember earlier; how he knew all that time I was lying.

night.
He types.

night
.
I type back, and then change it before I press send.