Chapter 38
Kitty arrived home, hoping to see signs of functional activity, such as CV writing, the house tidied or even a clean and showered Dave. But there were only signs of dysfunctional activity as Dave still had sleep in his eyes and he was wearing his old, saggy-kneed jogging bottoms and, despite it being a warm evening, he had on his dad’s ancient argyle jumper.
‘Nice day?’ Kitty said, hoping she didn’t sound sarcastic. If she was to make the best of this, then she would have to crack on.
‘Very nice day,’ he said, happily. ‘I’ve rested. Watched Countdown. And A Place In The Sun. Such a relaxing programme. And it got me thinking.’
‘Oh yes?’ Kitty noticed the amount of crumbs that had been scattered after Dave’s various snacks throughout the day. You could make a whole new loaf if you stuck them all together. She resisted the temptation of getting out the tiny vacuum and giving it a blast. What was the point, anyway? Everything just became messy again.
‘Well… I was thinking I don’t want to be an information technologist, but perhaps we could buy a little place in Spain or Portugal and drink wine and eat olives…’
‘Dave, you don’t like olives,’ said Kitty. ‘You don’t even like wine particularly.’
‘No, but that shouldn’t stop us. And I was thinking it would be good for Mam. She loves Spain. She was saying she would love to come with us…’
Kitty had to hold on to the door to stop herself from falling over. Nothing had changed, she thought. Nothing was different. She was right back where she’d always been. Square one. She looked at the clock. Nearly 7p.m. She was meant to be meeting Billy down at the ground in half an hour but she couldn’t decide just to stay away. What if he stood her up again? How many chances was she going to give him? But what if he turned up and she wasn’t there? She couldn’t bear to think of him waiting for her, and for some reason, it was easier to be stood up herself, rather than doing the standing up.
She quickly changed upstairs and then boiled a kettle, poured the water over some instant noodles, stuck in a fork, and handed it to Dave.
‘Dinner,’ she said, with a smile. ‘I’m going to football practice with my dad.’
He took the bowl but looked perplexed. ‘Football?’ he said. ‘Since when do you play football? You don’t even know what football is.’
‘I just started recently,’ she said. ‘Shazza…’
‘Oh, Shazza! I might have known!’
Kitty left the room and had her hand on the front door, ready to go, but Dave had followed her.
‘But Mam’s calling in,’ he said. ‘She wants to start planning the wedding. What time will you be back? Although I still can’t believe you’re going to football…’
‘About 8.30.’
‘She’ll still be here,’ he said. ‘Pick up some full-fat milk on your way home. You know she hates the kind you usually buy. And biscuits. She likes a lemon puff.’
On the walk to the ground, Kitty tried not to think about Dave. There was still room and time for him to change, but perhaps she had to change. Wasn’t that it? You couldn’t change other people, you could just change your responses to them. Surely that was all she had to do, not worry so much, be more zen, be chilled, let everything wash over her. And maybe that was her problem, she let things fester, wanted everything to be perfect and tried to control everything and everyone.
She thought of Billy. What would she say to him about Sunday? Should she mention it? And why was she giving him a second chance? He’d blown it yesterday and yet here she was again, handing him another opportunity to let her down. But surely he wouldn’t let her down again, would he? Surely he’d learned his lessons by now? She hadn’t texted him to make sure he remembered. If he turned up, then she knew he cared. If he didn’t, then that was the end. No more Billy. Ever. But she remained hopeful. He would be there. He would. He loved her and she loved him, in their own way.
But Billy wasn’t at the Sandycove Seafarers’ ground when Kitty arrived and so, ever hopeful, she sat on the sideline for a bit before finding a football and practising dribbling, and then she did some of the stretches she’d seen proper footballers do, the ankle grab, the heel-to-bum one, the wild arm-swinging one and the hip openers where you dislocate your joint and open and close your legs as though they were a door.
Tomorrow, she thought, she would see Tom again at five-a-side training. Would he try to talk to her? What would she say? How could she explain it? Perhaps she should probably give up the football and make it less awkward for everyone.
It was getting on for 8p.m. now. The light was beginning to fade and in another half an hour, they wouldn’t be able to play. Had she and Billy definitely arranged to meet here? Kitty tried to remember what he had said exactly. Maybe he had said to meet at the café for a hot chocolate? Or maybe he was ill? Why else would he miss the engagement gathering yesterday?
She began walking quickly, out of the grounds and down the road towards the village. Billy lived in a small, one-bedroom cottage behind the main street. As Kitty turned up towards it, she saw him, chatting with someone, looking as though he hadn’t a care in the world.
‘Dad!’
He looked over and froze for a moment as the man he was talking to shuffled off and then it was just Kitty and her father looking at each other.
‘I thought we were meant to be meeting to play football?’ she said.
‘Were we? Sorry, love, I was late…’
‘And yesterday, you were meant to come to Mum’s to celebrate me getting engaged…’
‘Sorry… I’ve a head like a sieve…’
Kitty couldn’t understand how you could forget that you were meeting your one and only daughter, the person with whom you had spent such a lovely evening only a week ago. The person who should mean most to you in the world but so obviously didn’t? So he wasn’t ill. He’d just forgotten. As he had all the other times he’d forgotten or been late or hadn’t bothered. He would spend his whole life letting her down, she knew it. She had been so willing to love him and he’d thrown it all away.
She turned and began walking away.
‘Kitty!’
She turned briefly. ‘I’m tired, Dad… really, really tired.’ She kept walking, feeling done with everyone and everything.
Back home, Kitty sat on the arm of the armchair, her head full of everything else in her life and wishing she didn’t have to talk to Dave or Maureen.
‘Another lemon puff, Maureen?’
Dave glanced up. ‘Kitty bought them specially, Mam,’ he said. ‘She knows you like them.’
Maureen put one whole into her mouth and another on her saucer. ‘I can resist most things except temptation and lemon puffs,’ she said, with a cackle. ‘Who said that? Some writer…’
‘Oscar Wilde,’ said Dave, who was sitting on the sofa, his eyes fixed on the blaring TV.
‘Oh, you are clever, David,’ said Maureen. ‘Isn’t he clever, Kitty?’
‘Yes, very…’ Kitty felt like crying, her mind full of Billy, Shazza, Annie and Tom. A few days ago, she had been so happy, her life full of these wonderful people. And now everything looked so much smaller and shallower.
Maureen’s shoes were off and her feet were on the coffee table, clad in a pair of giant pink velvet slippers.
‘I thought I’d leave these slippers in your house,’ she said to Kitty. ‘One pair in mine and a pair in yours.’
Kitty wondered if the charity shop would accept something so hideous.
‘Let’s have a chat in the kitchen,’ said Maureen, rising to her be-slippered feet and groaning with the effort. Her eyes fell on Kitty’s hand and she grabbed her wrist, twisting the horrible ring so the stones were facing upwards.
‘It’s a little big on me,’ explained Kitty.
‘It needs to be seen,’ said Maureen. ‘What is the point of having such a glorious treasure if it is going to be twisted around and not on display? You want the world to know you are engaged to a man who thinks so much of you he has given you this special ring.’
‘Mam,’ said Dave, his eyes still on the screen, ‘will you put the kettle on?’
Maureen nodded. ‘Yes, David, just after Kitty and I have a little chat. Come, Kitty, while I make us all a fresh pot of tea.’
In the kitchen, Maureen gestured to one of the stools for Kitty to sit on, while she stood looming in front of the fridge.
Maureen closed the door. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘I thought we’d have a little heart-to-heart about the needs and wants of my David. As you know, he spent a little time with me in the family home…’
‘I’m aware of that…’
‘Indeed. Now, David has been run-down… he’s been finding it hard to fulfil all the obligations that life…’ – at this, Maureen focused her laser eyes on Kitty – ‘forces upon him. And I know my David, and I know his heart is in the right place and he wants to do the best for all of us, but we, I mean, he…’ – she gave a little laugh – ‘decided to ask you to marry him because he is such an obliging young man and he wanted to be kind. Which is how I’ve brought him up. “David,” I said, “are you definitely 100 per cent fully and completely sure?” And he said yes. And I said, “Well, in that case you can have my ring.” A ring which should be admired by all and Sunday.’
‘It’s sundry,’ said Kitty, who was already plotting her escape. Back door and over the side wall? Dash the door and straight through the living room to the front door? Or just feign illness and collapse in the middle of the kitchen floor?
‘Anyway, so I thought I would give a little feedback about what I know about my David. Well, number one, he doesn’t like being told what to do. I know no man likes being told what to do, but David will do the opposite. So if you say make sure you shower today, he’ll make sure he doesn’t. It’s a funny little quirk of his but easily worked around. And we all know how high your standards are. Some might say that you were a little too clean and tidy, and as your mother-in-law-to-be, I should not be complaining. Who wants their future grandchildren living in a pigsty? Some of the homes of the daughters-in-law I hear about would make your skin crawl. But, Kitty, lower your standards and you might be much happier because, to be frank, you don’t seem that happy and our family is a happy one. Always with a funny story and buckets of Irish charm. No one wants to live with someone with a face like a drain. And you’d be quite pretty if you smile from time to time.’
Kitty didn’t smile now.
‘And,’ went on Maureen, ‘what’s all this about football training? I am not sure if football is entirely appropriate for women. What if you get injured? And think of your unborn children? You might get kicked in the stomach. I think you shouldn’t go any longer. Hmm? Now, shall we go back into the living room and join David? And we can start to plan the wedding. Although, he’s just ordered himself a Sky box. You know men, doesn’t take much to keep them happy. Now, David, will you give me a hand with something?’
Maureen went outside, Dave behind her, and there was a rustle and a bustle as the door opened and a huge shape entered the room, much like if a giant bin bag took on a life of its own, but this turned out to be a dress carrier, with Maureen behind.
‘I had to buy it,’ she was saying. ‘You know what they say: see it, pounce on it, hand over the old credit card! Or is that cakes? I don’t know!’ She laughed, delighted with herself, while Dave laughed along. ‘Anyway, I thought I would wear this to the wedding. As mother-of-the-groom, it’s my day too, isn’t it?’
‘Mam, you do know it’s not your wedding, don’t you!’ Dave teased, turning to Kitty, still laughing at his mother’s unbridled bridal joy. ‘She thinks she’s the one getting married!’ He gazed at his mother with such affection.
‘I just thought I had to show the two of you,’ she said. ‘The big unveiling… talking of which, there was a matching veil… Now, it’s not remotely like your veil would be, just a little bit of lace… more of a hair accessory than anything.’
‘Mam, we’re in suspense,’ said Dave. ‘Show us all of it!’
Maureen and Dave wrestled with the long zipper on the bag and, like a giant, frilly monster, something began to creep out, until eventually officially the world’s worst dress was revealed. Layered, ruched, puffy… it was everything a dress shouldn’t be. Kitty’s main feeling was one of overwhelm, as though she was drowning in a tsunami of tulle, a lake of lace, an avalanche of snow-white. This was a nuptial nightmare on an epic scale.
‘Now, it’s not white,’ Maureen was saying. ‘It’s actually a cream… very, very pale…’
‘It looks white,’ said Kitty.
‘Mam, I think it’s lovely,’ said Dave. ‘I know nothing about dresses or anything like that, but as a layman, I would say it’s very nice. Wouldn’t you, Kitty?’
‘I’m slightly stunned,’ said Kitty. ‘It’s an unbelievable dress…’ It was literally unbelievable. These kind of schemes and stunts would be her life… forever. Maureen would be pulling these kind of tricks for years to come.
‘Isn’t it?’ Maureen held the dress against her as she gave them a twirl. ‘And now for the veil – I mean the hair accessory…’ From the bag, she pulled out a veil – an actual wedding veil – and put it on the top of her head. ‘It’s lovely, isn’t it? Reminds me of my own day. Now, obviously, that was much longer, this is more like a Spanish mantilla, except white…’
This was all madness, Kitty thought, needing to get out. Her first thought was of Annie, she had to see how she was.
She stood up. ‘I have to go out,’ she said. ‘I have to go and see my auntie Annie.’
Maureen wrinkled her nose. ‘That one? The one who goes on about her holidays? I thought she’d never stop droning on, as though no one else had ever left the country ever.’
‘You’ve never left the country, Mam,’ said Dave.
‘That’s not the point.’ Maureen silenced him with an icy glare. ‘But just to say that your auntie Annie is a bit of a bore. No one cares, I wanted to say. I mean, the event in your mother’s was to celebrate your engagement to my son, not a travelogue to wherever she had been…’
‘Ibiza,’ said Kitty quietly.
‘Wherever that is. Probably full of people with tattoos and smoking those vape things and speaking in loud voices to each other.’ She gave Kitty a nod. ‘Your auntie Annie would fit right in.’
‘Actually, she’s probably the nicest person I’ve ever met,’ said Kitty. ‘She’s always cheerful, never gossips about people, never has a bad thing to say about anyone. She doesn’t sit and judge, she just goes and lives her life…’
Maureen opened her mouth to speak but Kitty held up her hand.
‘I have to go and see her,’ she said. ‘I won’t be long. I’ll leave you both to your programme.’
‘You do that,’ said Maureen. ‘We’re all right here, aren’t we, David?’
‘We are,’ he said.
‘Close the door on your way out,’ said Maureen. ‘There’s a little bit of a breeze on my neck.’
‘Who is it?’
‘It’s me, Annie. Kitty.’
Annie answered the door, her eyes red. ‘Is everything all right? Is your mother okay?’
‘We’re fine,’ said Kitty, her heart breaking to see Annie’s tear-streaked face. So Annie hadn’t been all right. ‘How are you?’
‘I couldn’t be better,’ said Annie, trying to smile. She was wearing a tatty black satin dressing gown, the faux fur around the edge a little moth-eaten. ‘But what brings you here?’
‘I wanted to apologise again,’ said Kitty. ‘In person. I wanted to say that I love you and I’m really sorry…’
Annie began to cry again. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said through her sobs. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me. You don’t need to say sorry to me… you were right to say everything you did. I suppose the truth hurts.’
‘But it wasn’t the truth,’ said Kitty, desperately. ‘I was in a bad mood and blamed everyone but myself. It’s the mess I’m in… and it’s nothing to do with you or Shazza.’
‘Poor Shazza,’ said Annie. ‘How is she?’
‘She hasn’t forgiven me,’ said Kitty. ‘Not yet.’
‘You’d better come in,’ said Annie. ‘Before the neighbours see me. They already think I’m one of those flibbertigibbets… I don’t want them seeing me crying. You know what I always say? Laugh and the world laughs with you, cry and no one cares…’
‘I care,’ said Kitty. ‘I really care.’
‘I know you do,’ said Annie, sadly. ‘I’ve let you down. I’ve taken advantage of you and Catherine.’
‘You haven’t…’ Kitty stepped inside and Annie closed the door behind them, wiping her eyes with the corner of her dressing gown.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I haven’t stopped crying since Sunday,’ admitted Annie, looking so small and vulnerable. ‘It’s just a few home truths came as a bit of a shock. I mean, of course you were right to say them…’
‘I wasn’t…’
‘And I’ve been reflecting on everything.’ Annie managed a small smile, looking up at Kitty. ‘You and Catherine are my world. My world. My everything. As Barry White used to say. Once, twice, three times my world. Anyway. Something like that. But you’re my everything and to think that I have done anything to make you feel as though I’m not your everything… and of course I’m not. You have so much more. You have Keith…’
‘Dave…’
‘Exactly. And I have just you and your mother.’
‘Annie,’ said Kitty. ‘You are my world. You are my lovely, precious aunt. You are my family. You are my everything! I love you.’
Annie was smiling. ‘I love you too.’
‘I really am sorry.’
‘So am I.’ They clung to each other for a while, both crying and patting backs, trying to soothe the other.
‘Let’s just forget about it. And you go back to Keith…’
‘Dave…’
‘And give him my very best love from his auntie-to-be.’
They hugged again and after reassuring each other of their love, Kitty left, feeling slightly better but determined never, ever to hurt anyone ever again.