Authors: Giovanna Fletcher
‘Come here,’ Mum says to me and Charlotte, gesturing us over by flapping around her hands in a scooping motion.
I slide in under the groove of her armpit, just as I remember doing as a child, while Charlotte rests her cheek on Mum’s tummy while wrapping one arm around her waist and the other around mine. Mum squeezes us into her and the exquisite wedding dress she’s still standing in.
‘I love you, girls. You’re both incredibly special and important …’ she whispers softly. ‘I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, but thank you.’
We stay like that, in a hug for three, for at least a minute – absorbing the love and feeling more united than ever.
‘Can I have pancakes for lunch?’ Charlotte asks
eventually, her voice squeaky as she looks up at us with a cheeky little expression on her adorable face.
We both laugh.
‘It’s a girlie day!’ Mum says back with a gasp, as though she’s shocked at the question having been asked. ‘It would be rude not to.’
‘What are you going to have on yours?’ I ask, still holding on to them both as my hand glides over Charlotte’s long brown hair.
‘Hmmm …’ she ponders, licking her lips as she gives the tough decision a great deal of thought. ‘I think banana and chocolate sauce.’
‘Yum!’ I reply, my tummy rumbling, even though it’s absolutely stuffed from last night’s dinner and this morning’s breakfast.
‘Well, I guess I’d better get out of this then,’ Mum sighs, looking down at her dress as though she’s reluctant to do so.
‘But you’re getting this one, right?’ Charlotte squeaks.
‘Well, it is bigger than I’d have liked
and
is a bit showier than I care to be …’
‘But …’ protests Charlotte.
‘But,’ agrees Mum, a smile working its way on to her lips. ‘Sometimes you’ve got to listen to your heart and throw caution to the wind.’
‘Does that mean you’re getting it?’ Charlotte asks, her face on the verge of exploding.
‘There’s no way I’m leaving without it,’ Mum laughs. ‘So, yes!’
‘YES!’ Charlotte shouts, gripping hold of her even tighter than before.
‘The first
dress you tried on too!’ I smile, thrilled with Mum’s decision and in no doubt that it’s the right one.
‘Exactly, and now we get to have pancakes and shop for you two all afternoon.’
‘See, this is the best day ever!’ Charlotte laughs, releasing her hold on us so she can jump up and down on the spot.
‘So,
how was your girlie day?’ asks Billy when I speak to him that night.
I decided to skip dinner (it’s fair to say I couldn’t stomach any more food) and have a bit of a pamper night instead: hot bath, facemask, cucumber over my eyes – a chance to actually cut my toenails and paint them a pale gold colour. It’s not something I treat myself to very often, but now I feel full of zen and inner peace.
‘Great. So great,’ I reply sleepily from my bed where I have just been relaxing with Jane Austen’s
Emma
.
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘I was thinking I might head back out and see you,’ I say, looking forward to hearing his reaction.
‘Are you joking?’ he asks. ‘When?’
‘I haven’t worked it out yet. Perhaps I’ll talk it over with Rachel, Peter, Mum and Colin. See when’s best for them all to cover.’
‘It’s only been a week,’ he says, his voice higher pitched than normal.
‘Is that a bad thing? Would you rather I didn’t come back out?’ I ask, suddenly feeling like I’m getting mixed signals and that he might not want me over there after all.
‘Don’t be daft. I meant I thought I was going to have to bend your arm and convince you to take more time off
somehow. I didn’t expect you to be saying this already,’ he laughs. ‘So, when were you thinking?’
‘Not sure. Like I said, I’ll talk to the others,’ I say, feeling disheartened about the idea now that his initial reaction was less than enthusiastic.
‘Of course.’
‘But the last day of shooting hasn’t changed, has it?’
‘Nope, still May 13th. Although I might have to stick around for a few days the following week – Rhonda wants me to meet a few people, but I’ll try and get that done straight away so I can come home on the Thursday or something.’
‘That’s really close to the wedding,’ I note.
‘I know, but what can I do? It’s not like I’m going to miss it. I said I’d be back at the end of that week and I will,’ he snaps, taking me by surprise. ‘I’m meeting important people, not going out and getting pissed in a bunch of clubs. Because I could be doing that, and I’m not.’
‘Right …’ I frown, taken aback by the sudden swing the conversation has taken when I thought I was calling him with good news.
‘Not that I want to be doing that,’ he says, sounding confused and displeased at his own argument. ‘I’m just saying, I’m working really hard. I’m not off on a jolly in La La Land.’
‘Of course. I know that,’ I say, wanting to immediately stop his spiky tone, seeing as talking on the phone two days in a row is such a rare treat.
I don’t want him to stop calling altogether because he’s worried one of us will say the wrong thing and upset the other. But I can’t help feeling his priorities are changing.
I know he’d say I’m wrong, but I can see his ambition and hunger growing more and more, making me wonder where he sees me fitting into the whole picture … Hollywood and acting are reclaiming his heart, but does that mean my hold on it is slipping? Because it definitely feels like it’s getting harder to hold on.
‘I’ve been thinking …’ Mum says, coming into my room an hour later and perching on the bed, just as she’s done since I was a little girl.
‘What about? Your wonderful dress?’ I tease.
‘Yes,’ she laughs, her hand covering her mouth as a giggle escapes.
‘I’m not surprised.’
‘It was me who said I didn’t want a big fancy wedding. That I only wanted us six to be a part of it … maybe I was wrong.’
I can’t contain my laughter, as I guess what’s coming next.
‘What?’ Mum asks, looking at me innocently.
‘Now you’ve got the bigger dress you want the bigger wedding?’
‘It’s not that,’ she says, looking embarrassed as her cheeks flush red. ‘But it
is
such a beautiful dress!’
‘It would be a shame for people not to see it,’ I nod, a big grin spreading across my face.
‘It just made me realize exactly how special and wonderful the day is going to be and how grateful I am to have Colin and you kids in my life,’ she explains, raising her shoulders helplessly.
‘Ah …’ I beam.
‘I want to celebrate that. Really celebrate,’ she says, clapping her hand against her thigh.
‘There’s only seven weeks until the wedding …’ I remind her.
‘I know,’ she frowns.
‘But there’s a lot we can do in that time,’ I say, feeling a flurry of excitement fire through me.
‘Really?’
‘I think so. Do you want to change the venue or are you happy to keep it as it is?’
‘Well, you can get quite a few people in the shop …’ she says, her fingers twisting as she thinks. ‘I’m not talking about having hundreds of people suddenly, I don’t even think we know that many, anyway. But maybe just a couple of dozen or something.’
‘Just so it’s more of a party and not a family get together?’
‘Yes … maybe we should sleep on it,’ she frowns, doubting herself.
‘It’s not me you need to convince, Mum. I think it’s a great idea.’
‘Thank you,’ she beams, still looking radiant from earlier. It’s like she’s found her wedding mojo. I love seeing her like this. It makes her seem younger than ever.
‘And I’m here to plan and help however I can. It’ll be a busy few weeks, but we can do it. I have every faith in us.’
‘You’re a star,’ she says, kissing the top of my head before getting up and making to leave. ‘I don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight,’ she giggles. ‘There’s so much to think about … Now, I’m finally going to go and stick some post-it notes in those magazines I’ve been flicking through for months.’
My heart sings as she leaves. This is completely what Mum deserves and I’m thrilled she is allowing herself to really celebrate the happiness life can bring instead of questioning everything. We’re both reclusive characters at heart and have preferred to cut ourselves off from the community when things got too much for us, but now it feels times are changing.
I think back to my previous chat with Billy and realize sadly there’s no way I can leave Mum now and go back to America. Not with only seven weeks left until she marries Colin. Not when all the plans have changed.
I take a deep breath and look at my phone, wondering if I should call him now and tell him it’s looking unlikely, or whether I should wait for another day … I know he’ll be disappointed and that it’s likely we’ll end up snapping at one another again if we speak now.
Rationally, I know those moments of sadness and anger that flicker between us are just signs of annoyance at being apart, but how long will we be able to cope like that before an eruption is too big to come back from? Is it going to be the same every time we’re apart for filming? Will one of us always be trying to tame the other’s emotions?
I don’t want to think of Billy being down. And I don’t like the thought of him worrying about me in that way either. Relationships should be easier than this, I know that. Everything else around you might fall apart, but the two of you should always be left standing like two strong and entwined trees, united against whatever forces might try to uproot you …
I just wish everything could go back to how it was at
the end of last year: simple, normal and easy in our secluded Rosefont Hill bubble. Although, even as I think it, I know it’s a selfish request which would mean only one of us living the life we want.
I decide not to call Billy back straight away, preferring to bury my head in the sand, something he seems to think me and Mum are good at anyway. Instead, I torment myself about the whole thing for the rest of the night and, just like the previous day, the reality of the situation with Billy clouds the fun I’ve been having beforehand.
So much for being in a Zen-like and relaxed state.
I
don’t get to speak to Billy the following day, or in fact for several days. We’re both busy, although despite his protests to the contrary it looks like he’s having far more fun than he’s letting on if his social media posts are anything to go by. Pictures that he would have previously sent only to me of him in his trailer or out with Johnny are now being seen by the millions of fans who started following his accounts as soon as they were verified. Because he knows I follow him and probably see them, he doesn’t bother forwarding them on to me too, meaning his contact with me is getting that little bit less and I end up feeling more like a stalker than a girlfriend. It’s weird knowing what someone is up to when they haven’t directly told you so themselves, but it’s also hard not to look when everyone else around you seems to know more about what your partner is doing than you do.
‘Oh my goodness, you are a lucky so and so,’ says Rachel one morning as she skips into the shop with a huge grin on her flushed face.
‘Sorry?’ I laugh, elbows deep in flour and baking dough.
‘You’ve not seen what your hunky Adonis posted a little while ago, then?’ she smirks, clearly whatever she’s seen making her quite giddy.
‘Do I look like someone in the know?’ I ask, raising an
eyebrow at her even though I’m finding her behaviour quite entertaining.
‘I’m talking about this!’ she giggles, thrusting her iPhone in my face and showing me Billy’s Instagram account.
She scrolls through the pictures he’s posted – because he’s uploaded not one but several of them in the last hour since I’ve been at work.
Him and Johnny obviously had a rare afternoon off and did the LA thing of tackling Runyon Canyon, a dusty and challenging track leading all the way to a summit that is renowned for its celebrity visitors. I can remember Hayley and Jenny talking about it many times when I first went over there. On hitting the peak Billy and Johnny took half a dozen sweaty selfies in celebration – all with their tops off and displaying their toned, tanned bodies as they smile away at the camera in the Californian sunshine. Billy looks every inch the movie star and not at all like he’s pining for his absent girlfriend. Not that he should be moping around the whole time, but a hint of sadness in his eyes that only I could read would certainly help me. Selfish, but true.
‘Seriously, I wish our Shane looked like this with his kit off,’ Rachel chuckles, looking at the image on her phone once more. Really squinting at it to take in every detail. I love the fact that she doesn’t care she’s unashamedly lusting after my boyfriend in front of me.
‘Don’t let him hear you say that,’ I warn.
‘What? Anyone would think it was him who carried the twins for nine months,’ she laughs, covering her face with her hands. ‘Oh, I’m being cruel. I don’t mean it in the slightest. Just saying it in jest. Anyway, I’d be too scared to take my clothes off if he looked like this.’
‘Oh, shush, you,’ I say, shaking my head at her modesty.
‘True …’ she muses, giving it a second thought. ‘I’d still take my clothes off, I’d just make sure the lights were off first,’ she cackles wickedly as she puts her phone away and hangs her coat up.
She makes me chuckle and almost takes my mind off the fact that she and everyone else who has been on Instagram that morning knew exactly where Billy was and who with, when I didn’t. I haven’t even received a reply to the ‘Good morning!’ text I sent him a couple of hours ago yet. It’s not a huge deal, but surely I’m allowed to feel slightly irritated when he’s decided to take the time to post these pictures rather than get in contact with me. I’d rather not be made to feel like the best way of knowing what my boyfriend is up to is to sit and refresh the homepages to my social media accounts all day long …
Not that I’m stuck at home dwelling on it too much. The shop is busy with afternoon tea bookings (almost doubling the morning bake time, not that I’m complaining) and we have a rather important wedding to focus on and plan in only a short amount of time.
Yes, my mind is occupied and full. I’m not avoiding the situation I’m in, but rather am immersing myself in my surroundings and the things that are actually occurring and present in my life. That’s how I’ve learnt to cope and keep any wobbly feelings at bay, by focusing on the here and now and not hankering after something and someone that feels distinctly unobtainable lately.
The following Sunday I’m surprised by the grin on my face when I open the front door to Peter, suddenly
realizing that I’ve missed him over the past week since our dinner. It’s silly really, as I’ve only spent a handful of days with him since properly meeting him, but it’s the combination of his friendly blue eyes and endearing smile that echo his mother’s that bring me the most joy. Rather embarrassingly, I find myself staring at him with a huge toothy grin before I remember myself and welcome him inside, my face turning pink as I do so.
As expected, he is warmly greeted by the whole family and immediately fussed over. Mum and Colin start laughing over their past encounters when Peter was just a young teenager, Charlotte becomes adorably bashful and won’t leave my side, while Aaron instantly tries to drag him out to the garden for a kick around with his football. He’s wrapped up in our world straight away, and from the happy expression on his face I can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying being with us all. And it’s not strange having him here with us. He comfortably sits himself at the kitchen table (the same place he sat when we first met after Molly passed away) while Mum makes him a cup of tea, as though it’s a normal occurrence.
‘So, what’s new?’ he asks, removing his grey woolly turtleneck jumper now that he’s in the heat of our home. Spring might have arrived and started to warm up the previously icy weather, but it’s still chilly out there.
‘Well, we’re getting married,’ Mum says with a shy smile as she looks at Colin, who gives her a smitten look in return.
‘I knew that!’ Peter laughs. ‘I’ve heard all about your romantic proposal, Colin. Sounds like you did a terrific job.’
‘If something is worth doing, it’s worth doing right,’ he replies, visibly proud that he pulled the magical moment off and that it quickly became the talk of the village, and has remained so ever since.
‘Couldn’t agree more,’ Peter grins.
‘Well, sadly for Sophie, the plans have slightly changed,’ sighs Mum, looking nervous about the whole thing again.
‘Oh?’
‘It’s nothing,’ I shrug, rolling my eyes at her for worrying. Now that we’ve made the decision to go bigger we just have to run with it and throw ourselves into getting everything ready. ‘We’re just going bigger.’
‘And why not! It’s your special day. You can do and have whatever you like,’ Peter encourages.
I can’t help but smile at him.
‘Rachel said you’re using the shop?’ he continues, smiling back at me, his eyes twinkling.
‘That’s right,’ Colin says, getting the milk out of the fridge for Mum and placing it beside her. ‘Where else?’
‘Actually,’ I start, as a thought pops into my head. ‘I know it’s a cheeky request and that I’m putting you on the spot when you’ve only just walked through the door, but I don’t suppose you’d fancy helping out, would you? Rachel was going to do it on her own when it was just us lot, but I think that’ll be a bit much now. Feel free to say no …’
‘I’d love to,’ he replies, holding his hands up and gesturing for me to stop talking.
I’m gabbling because I hate asking people for things and feeling like I’m putting them out in any way. I like the fact that Peter senses this and wants to reassure me otherwise.
‘I’ll do all the prep, of course, so you won’t have to do much more than serve and keep everyone happy,’ I continue, unable to help myself.
‘It’ll be great.’ He pauses. ‘Besides, if all else fails I can use my fake Aussie charm,’ he winks.
‘Exactly,’ I say, giggling at his idea. ‘It’s been working on all the ladies so far.’
‘That’s very kind of you,’ says Mum to Peter, cutting in on the moment as she places his drink in front of him. ‘It’ll be lovely for Sophie to just relax and enjoy the day. I’m sure Billy will step in if need be, too.’
‘So, he’ll be back by then?’ Peter asks, looking surprised as he glances across at me.
‘I should certainly hope so. It wouldn’t be the same without him,’ says Colin, opening a packet of custard cream biscuits and offering Peter one, even though dinner isn’t far from being ready.
A strange feeling of guilt crawls up my spine at the mention of Billy and at that look from Peter.
‘Please can we go outside now?’ Aaron pleads as he walks in with his football under his arm, looking bored as Charlotte bounces in after him. The two had decided to go off and play a few minutes after Peter arrived when they realized the boring grown-up chat was going to happen before they got a look in with the exciting guest. Now they’re back and want entertaining.
‘Come on then, mate,’ Peter laughs, downing the contents of his boiling drink before standing up and following his new buddy out into the garden.
‘He talks funny,’ muses Charlotte, her head cocked to one side as she slides into his chair.
‘Because he’s lived in Australia for so long,’ Colin informs her.
‘Australia,’ she repeats. ‘Have we ever been there?’
‘No,’ says Colin, shaking his head. ‘It’s very far away.’
‘Ohhh …’ she replies, looking out of the kitchen window and watching Peter. ‘Is he your new boyfriend, Sophie?’
‘No!’ I gasp.
‘Charlotte!’ Colin warns.
‘What?’ she retorts innocently, as though unable to comprehend our shocked reactions. ‘He’s a boy and her friend …’
‘Well, when you break it down like that …’ Colin replies, shrugging at me and Mum as though unsure how to respond. ‘He’s a very nice man,’ he murmurs.
‘Does Billy like him?’ she asks, looking directly at me.
‘They haven’t met yet,’ I reply.
‘Hmmm …’ and just like that she slinks out of her seat and disappears into the other room.
Colin laughs the incident off and busies himself by getting the plates and cutlery out for the table, while Mum flashes me a concerned and knowing look before taking the roast potatoes out of the oven and giving them a shake.
The boys come in half an hour later, just in time to see the roast lamb being plated up, and then join Charlotte and I at the table. Dinner is delicious. Mum barely cooked for years (we either didn’t eat or lived off microwave meals when Dad died), but she’s pulled back her culinary skills and has managed to master the traditional Sunday roast
to perfection – something she usually does every Sunday with all the trimmings, as though it’s Christmas day.
Peter is asked a million questions during the feast. Not just from Charlotte who now wants to hear all about the existence of kangaroos and koalas (she’s never seen any, so she thinks they’re as mythical as unicorns), but from everyone at the table. The conversation flows as Peter opens up about his childhood, Molly, his dad, which football team he supports, whether he thinks he’ll ever move back here, what it’s like living in the future and whether or not it gives him superpowers (he says not but the children believe otherwise). It’s lovely seeing everyone welcoming Peter and wanting to know all about him, but it’s even more magical to have an outsider come in and witness my glorious family who are being thoroughly entertaining and inclusive. Thinking back to the Buskin household and the first time I went there it’s clear the attention was always on Billy and never fully on me. I was grateful for that at the time as I hate being put on the spot or having my presence anywhere highlighted, but because of my resistance and them being wrapped up in Billy, I don’t think I ever experienced anything like the hospitality and love that my family are showing to our guest right now.
Watching them warms my heart.
I know how their kindness will be making Peter feel … because everyone in this room has experienced loss and seen the heart of their families crushed into obscurity, yet me, my mum, Colin, Aaron and Charlotte have been fortunate enough to have been given second families.
I want Peter to witness that and for him to be moved
by it. To see how wonderful it is to have those special times continuing in the absence of loved ones, and to observe how being ‘pinned down’ or ‘having your wings clipped’ can actually be something beautiful and not at all oppressive. I know it’s something he’s already started pondering over (he said as much when we went out to dinner), but when I think of his outlook and compare it to my own circumstances I’m made aware of how much my life has changed since I’ve started to let those barriers of independence down. My world is brighter and warmer thanks to my family attachments.
The smile on his face throughout the meal tells me he sees what I see, but even better than that, I’m delighted to spot a lightness within his burly frame that wasn’t there before.
The hours trickle by, and before we know it we’re all gathered in the hallway to see Peter off.
‘Actually, I’ll walk up the road with you,’ I say impulsively, grabbing my red coat and throwing it on.
‘Oh?’ he asks in surprise.
‘What for?’ asks Mum, her voice squeaking on its way out.
‘I forgot to see if I have enough food colouring left for a rainbow cake I’ve got to make first thing,’ I explain. ‘I’m sure I do but I’d rather go up now and stop in at Budgens on the way back rather than faff around tomorrow morning when I should be getting on.’
Mum looks back at me blankly.
‘You know I like to be organized,’ I say, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a kiss on the cheek, trying to telepathically tell her that she has to stop worrying
about me. Over the last few hours she must have seen that Peter is a lovely guy, but that there’s nothing more between us than companionship.
‘Thank you so much for having me, Jane. Dinner was superb,’ Peter says, nudging me out of the way and taking her slim frame into his manly arms before squeezing her with a hug.
‘Not at all,’ she says, managing to compose herself. She’s far worse than me at having her personal space invaded, yet Peter comes with a familiarity that means she doesn’t retreat into her shell on the spot. Instead, she keeps her composure and even manages to look unaffected by the embrace.