Chapter 48
Cloak/poncho on, lipstick reapplied, Chloe opened her black binder. ‘We are here today,’ she read, ‘to witness the union of two people in the autumn of their lives. Two people who have experienced much and whose decision today shows us that there is always room for a new chapter, a new adventure, a new journey.’
Always room for a new chapter. Helen’s eyes smarted. Never had words carried more meaning and listening to the echo of them in this elegant room she didn’t know what she was feeling more surprised at. That Chloe, with her fringed cape had read them, or that she was listening to them alongside her ex-husband, as he cuddled their grandson.
‘This,’ Chloe continued, ‘is a joining together of two people who have come to know the value of companionship. Because marriage is not just for the young. It is for the ever-wise, the ever-hopeful. Those who know the quiet strength that comes from sharing a life.’
She moved her eyes sideways to look at Lawrence.
Ben lay against his shoulder, a saliva-sodden thumb in his mouth, cherubic cheeks filling and falling as he slumbered on.
He looked like his mother.
Or his uncle.
Or both of them.
And as she watched him, all her babies seemed to morph into one.
She reached out and stroked his tiny hand.
When she was very young, her heart had been whole and uncompromised, and life had been easy.
But she had broken it up and given it away.
First to Lawrence, then to her children.
Now to her grandchild.
It was time, to take back a piece for herself.
Not all of it.
Never all of it.
Just enough to be able to kickstart herself into the rest of her life.
Enough to be able to mail, Stronger Together and accept the job.
Enough to get her jabs done, her suitcase packed, her new email set up.
Enough to provide the sustenance needed to board a plane and fly six thousand miles away.
No one else could do it for her, and she was only just beginning to know, only just beginning to feel, all the tiny recalibrations needed for a woman to live life on her own terms.
Each turn of the screw as impossible as it was necessary.
She took Ben’s thumb and pressed it between her fingers.
Each tiny turn of the screw.
With the ceremony over, the bride and groom had gone ahead in a taxi, accompanied by Alex.
‘I’ve got so much food at my house, it’s coming out of my ears,’ Kay had insisted as a hasty wedding breakfast was arranged.
‘And I’ll drop into Tesco for a sponge cake.’ Lawrence had also gone ahead with Libby and Ben, to collect the car.
Kay and Caro were outside and only Helen lingered, alone in the sombre reception room.
She’d wanted to say a personal thank you to Chloe.
The words had been perfect, and Chloe had conducted the affair faultlessly, bending low to accommodate Lizzie, annunciating clearly and loudly, for Kay’s father.
It had been a beautiful ceremony, and against all the odds the morning had provided joy.
From behind the desk a door opened, the squeaking of hinges loud in the silent space.
‘I’m glad I caught you,’ she said, as Chloe approached. ‘I wanted to say thank you. You really rescued the morning.’
‘Oh, it was nothing.’ Chloe beamed. ‘I’m quite accustomed to thinking on my feet. I used to be a weather girl. Live TV prepares you for all kinds of storms!’ She laughed. ‘Excuse the pun!’
Helen’s lips twitched. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I suppose it does.’
‘Have to rush.’ Chloe waved a hand. ‘I’m off to officiate at a funeral now.’
A funeral? The cloak and the lipstick were still in place.
‘It shouldn’t be too sad an affair,’ Chloe said thoughtfully. ‘He was fifteen.’
Helen’s mouth fell open, the moment was so surreal she couldn’t be sure it was happening.
‘It’s a good age for a Labrador.’ Chloe nodded, and with a final swish of her cloak/poncho she was gone.
Outside Caro and Kay were sitting on the top step.
They had taken their shoes off and turned their faces to the sun, like schoolgirls do in summer.
They looked so peaceful, she didn’t want to disturb, so Helen stood a moment, watching.
High above, thick white clouds floated past windows of blue that were stretching wider with every moment.
The rain had passed, it was going to be a fine afternoon, a lovely evening.
She scooped her dress together and sat down alongside Caro, tilting her head to the same angle.
She wasn’t going to start the conversation.
It wasn’t her conversation to start, and besides, none was needed.
Together, the three of them had lived through enough of these moments to know them from the inside out.
To understand that there was no point in bracketing them with anything as ineffective as words.
Just living them together was enough to ensure that, in years to come, when one or the other of them took the memory down from a dark and dusty shelf, the comfort of friendship would be apparent in every frame.
The sun was buttercup warm on her chin, a gauzy wash of orange seeped through her eyelids, and the scratch of pigeons squabbling a step below, filled her ears.
A layer beyond came the hum of traffic, someone laughing.
She took a deep breath in, filled her lungs, let the air out again.
A silent cue, that Caro picked up as she said,
‘I’m so glad I was able to give Lizzie my bouquet.’
‘I’m glad Alex made the suggestion.’ Kay opened her eyes. ‘I wouldn’t have.’
Caro nodded. ‘She said my time would come.’
‘Do you want to tell us what happened?’ As she spoke, Helen looked straight ahead.
‘Not what you think.’
‘I see.’ She nodded, feeling, rather than seeing, the shift as Kay lowered her chin.
Caro must have felt it too, because she turned to Kay and said, ‘Something happened, Kay. Helen knows. I’m not proud of it and I will tell you, but to be honest right now, it doesn’t even matter.’
‘It’s OK.’ Kay smiled. ‘You’ll tell me in your own time.’
‘I will. Yes.’
‘And maybe Lizzie’s right,’ Kay said. ‘Maybe your time will come.’
‘No.’ Caro lifted her chin. ‘No, I think that was as close as I will ever get.’
‘Caro ––’ Helen started.
‘I was chasing a dream.’ Caro smiled. ‘And it wasn’t even my dream to chase.’
There was nothing to say. Helen drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. Hadn’t she thought the same herself? Hadn’t she, privately, wondered about the shape-shifting Caro had undergone? Hadn’t she noted the brittleness of her enthusiasm? ‘There are,’ she murmured, ‘so many other dreams to chase.’ She wasn’t worried for her friend. The last couple of years had been difficult for Caro, but this ending felt like the right one. No-one could call it happy, then again no one could call it unhappy. And anyway, she had long since stopped believing in happy endings herself. She had even stopped believing in endings. Leaving her marriage had felt like the biggest ending of all, but here she was, standing on the edge of what could be the biggest beginning of her life. She turned and squeezed Caro’s hand.
‘What will you ––’ But she didn’t even get to the end of the sentence.
‘I’m going back to work,’ Caro said, stretching her legs out and pointing her toes. ‘I love my work. I might even relocate. Have a whole new start.’
‘That makes two of us then,’ said Kay. ‘Dad’s moving, Alex is fine. And I’m definitely going to Cyprus.’
‘In a VW van?’ Helen smiled.
Kay laughed. ‘No. I might, every now and then, take an overnight trip in a VW van, but not a long voyage. Not again. I’m striking out on my own. I want to see what’s out there and, in the meantime, I have this.’ And winking at Helen, Kay lifted her handbag.
Caro looked from one to the other. ‘Am I missing something?’
Kay nodded. ‘You and I have some stuff to catch up on.’
‘Well …’ Helen smiled. ‘It would actually make three of us. Relocating.’ And she waited a moment to let her words sink in, to watch with a shy sense of pride long years in the making, as both Caro and Kay turned to look at her. ‘You remember that thing I had?’ she said, ‘in London? I sent you a photo remember, Caro?’
Caro frowned.
‘The Bolivia thing?’ Kay said. ‘I thought you had messed that up?’
‘So did I.’ And again, Helen smiled, a huge beam that despite the events of the morning did not feel out of place and wouldn’t, she knew, be unwelcome. ‘It turns out, I didn’t.’
‘And you’re going to take it?’ Kay gasped.
Caro’s eyes went wide as buttons. You’re going to Bolivia?’
‘I am,’ Helen said simply. ‘Yes, I am.’
The end