Chapter 23 #2
‘You’ve got your feet under the table at Lyonscroft, haven’t you?’ She sneered. ‘But not for long, from what I hear.’
I felt as if someone had dropped a bag of wet sand on my stomach as the pain of recent days came back full force and the pleasantly tipsy feeling from the champagne morphed into sour sickness.
‘Yes,’ she went on maliciously. ‘Nick continuing his glamorous international life after his little holiday at home and you only there until dear Marilise isn’t.
Darling Steph,’ she went on. ‘So generous to offer you a place with her. Giles and I are planning on starting a family soon ourselves; maybe we could find some room for you with us, for a while.’
I rose unsteadily to my feet. She mustn’t, simply mustn’t, see me cry.
I pushed past the table, setting the slender-stemmed glasses wobbling precariously and hurried through the tightly packed people, aiming for a door near the bar that looked as if it might lead to the loos.
I opened it and slipped through, seeing more closed doors but also a small sofa at the end of the corridor.
I sank onto this, drew up my knees and let out the tears.
They were silent, but my whole body was shaking as I sobbed and heaved for breath.
My face was buried in my knees, my arms wrapped around the top of my head, so I felt, rather than saw, someone sit down next to me.
An arm went around my shoulders and patted me firmly, the touch comforting me so much that my weeping started to subside and I lifted my head.
I had expected to see Araminta, or maybe even Steph, but what I had not expected was the beautiful and statuesque figure of the silver-clad drag queen from the performance that night.
She was probably the most glamorous person I had ever seen in real life and must have cut a figure nearly eight feet tall, including her shoes and wig, but she had a look of such softness and kindness on her immaculately made-up face that I knew in my heart I could pour everything out to her.
‘What’s up, my love?’ she said, her voice calm and soothing.
‘S-sorry,’ I said. ‘I was looking for the loos, but I think I got lost.’
‘That doesn’t matter a bit. You’re backstage, where the magic happens, and it looks to me like you could do with a bit of that.’
I nodded and mustered a small smile.
‘You’re right there. I could do with some bloody powerful magic – my life’s such a mess.’
‘Oh well, I know all about that,’ she said, smiling. ‘Messy lives are my speciality. Nothing that can’t be fixed, I’m sure. Now, tell Christal everything.’
So, I spilled out the whole tale, from my happy, simple life with Paulo, then his death, to the introverted, nomadic life that had followed.
I explained my family’s dynamic as best I could, trying not to sound bitter or self-pitying.
I told her how I had found work and then love at Lyonscroft and how Nick and I had broken up, he wracked with conviction that I had fulfilled his expectations by leaving him, me terrified of betraying Paulo and moving on from my own feelings, which had kept me safe for so long.
I explained the plan my sister had come up with for my future, and how I was considering it, but knew at the same time I was committing myself to a life I didn’t want.
‘I’ve ruined everything,’ I concluded. ‘And I’ve closed so many doors that I don’t know how to get out of the tiny little room I’ve boxed myself into.’
‘You are a ninny,’ said Christal, smiling at me as if I were a little girl. I gazed at her, basking in her maternal affection. ‘Do you ever try being kind to yourself?’
I shook my head and sniffed.
‘Not really. I always think I can do better.’
‘Better than being a bloody lovely nurse and bloody brave to boot?’ she asked.
‘You’ve been through the wringer, my love, and you’re still standing.
Start off by being proud of that. Now, I am an expert on love, and I can tell you for sure that all is not lost with this Nick.
It sounds like you both need to support each other to take a chance, be a little braver.
But put him to one side for the moment. Can you do that? ’
I nodded.
‘Good. Because whether he’s the one or not, you need to decide what you want for your life and then go and get it. Do you want to work for your sister or her horrible mate?’
‘No,’ I said firmly.
‘Good. Do you want to be a maternity nurse at all?’
‘No,’ I replied.
‘Good. Then don’t. What do you want to do, with your career?’
I hesitated. I did have an idea, but I had barely expressed it to myself, let alone anyone else.
‘Come on, I know there’s something. Tell Christal.’
‘What I want to do is go back to university, do an MA and become a nurse educator. I think I’d be good at that,’ I blurted out.
‘You wouldn’t be good at that, my darling, you’d be bloody brilliant. Say it.’
I giggled nervously, then said, ‘I’d be bloody brilliant.’
‘That’s right. Say that every day and get your application in. Now, do you want to meet another man?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you feel ready to be with someone?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is that person Nick?’
A smile spread across my face.
‘Yes!’
‘There you go. You’ve done the hard bit, which is knowing what you want. Now, all you have left is the fun part – going out and getting it.’
A wave of energy swept away my worry and exhaustion.
‘Because I’m bloody brilliant?’
Christal swept me into a feathery, sequinned, scented hug.
‘You’ve got it.’
I went back to the table and, ignoring Dorothea who was now bossing people into a game of Bride Bingo that no one had any appetite for, leant over and gave Steph a huge hug.
‘I’ve had a brilliant evening,’ I said. ‘And I’m so happy for you, but it’s time I went home. See you on the big day.’
Minty was dancing and, when I asked her if she wanted to leave, she cocked her head at the hunk she was with and said she’d see where the evening took her.
Next, I went over to Sue, who was slumped at the end of the banquette, asleep. I touched her shoulder and when I got no response, gave her a little shake. Her eyes opened slowly and tried to focus on me.
‘I’m going home now,’ I said. ‘I’ll drop you off, too. Where do you live?’
She mumbled the name of a small town not far from where we were, so I opened my taxi app and tapped in the details.
Things were going my way that night: the cab would be with us in ten minutes.
I helped Sue up, got both our coats from the cloakroom and steered her out into the cold night air, hoping that it would help sober her up, rather than make her throw up.
We stood, shivering, as the night life of Taunton passed us by: giggling women holding each other up and talking about how much they were looking forward to getting into pyjamas; a group of rugby players, apparently not freezing in their shorts, singing ‘Oh Come, All Ye Faithful’ complete with a descant that I think surprised everyone, including the six footer producing it.
Before long, a silver car drew up and I checked the registration number against my app, then hopped in before anyone else could try to pinch it.
Sue, thankfully, made it home without being sick and we waited until she opened her front door and gave us a feeble wave before pulling away.
It was nearly midnight when I crept through the door of Lyonscroft.
I tiptoed upstairs and towards my room. There was a band of light under Marilise’s door – was she still awake?
Was she okay? Quickly, I ran into my room and kicked off my shoes, then hurried back and opened her door quietly.
To my relief, she was sitting up in bed, tapping away at her phone.
‘Hello, Laura,’ she said, looking up and seeing me. ‘How was your evening? Do come in and tell me all about it. I like the photos you sent.’
She patted the bed next to her, and I remembered how much she had enjoyed hearing about the Christmas concert so, tired though I was, I sat down and told her about the evening, making her laugh when I described Dorothea’s party games.
I skimmed over my conversation with Christal, eager to give her only the funny highlights of the night, but she wasn’t to be hoodwinked.
‘She sounds wise,’ she said. ‘What else did she say?’
Once I had explained, she folded her hands and looked at me seriously.
‘I’m so glad you have clarity,’ she said. ‘I know I’ve said it before, but Nikolai is a good boy, he means only well. He spends too much time with that dog, but hey…’ She gave an exaggerated shrug. ‘Nobody’s perfect.’
‘Doesn’t it make you sad?’ I asked. ‘The fact that Lyonscroft might be sold?’
‘After I die? Not at all. I do love it, but moving on is good. I hope he sells, or does something else with it, makes it into a hotel or something. It’s a beautiful house, but it needs new life running through its veins, and it’s too big for most families these days.’
‘Moving on is good,’ I repeated. ‘I think I’m finally coming to understand that.’
‘Good,’ said Marilise, pushing herself down to lying and putting her phone on the bedside table, then reaching for the light switch. ‘But you and Nick would be fools not to move on together.’