Chapter Forty
Freya
I didn’t know at what point I would completely lose it. Obviously dropping Dolly at university was going to be tough, and at some point I would have to let all the tears go, and cry like a baby. I had been on the verge of tears all week, ever since I got back from New York. Partly because of what had happened with Joe, and all the tears of joy I had shed over that, and now all the tears of sadness I was crying over Dolly. I had basically been a fucking emotional mess, and you would think I had no tears left, but as we stood in her small room in the halls of residence, and we knew it was time to say goodbye, I could feel a barrage of tears just waiting to escape and explode down my face. How do you say goodbye to your child without completely losing your shit?
It had all started at five o’clock that morning, when we had put the last of Dolly’s bags in the car. It was a six-hour drive to Durham, and we had planned a one-hour stop for lunch in Nottingham, and perhaps another stop at a service station for coffee and snacks. How had it come around so quickly? It only felt like five minutes since Dolly was starting primary school. At times her life felt like it had been so long, and the years when she was little seemed to take an eternity, but now she was leaving us, I wanted to go back and do it all again. I wanted to savour every second once more and cherish each moment with a greater degree of appreciation. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to my daughter.
‘So,’ said Dolly, standing in the middle of her small room.
It really was a very tiny space, and it seemed like she might struggle to fit all her stuff in, but it didn’t seem to be bothering Dolly. To be fair, my memories of freshers’ week were mainly being drunk, not sleeping, and signing up for clubs I probably, almost definitely, didn’t attend, and I’m fairly sure I didn’t care once about the aesthetics of my room.
‘So,’ I replied. ‘We should probably—’
‘Yes,’ said Joe. ‘Give you some space.’
‘Okay, well, thank you, and I love you,’ said Dolly, and I could feel myself beginning to crumble. She walked forwards into my arms, and I held her, and I didn’t ever want to let her go. She might feel like a woman now, the curves of her body were definitely feeling more grown-up, but she would always be my little girl.
‘Okay, Freya, I think you can let go now,’ said Joe after about a minute.
I slowly let Dolly go, and she sank into her father and gave him a hug, and then after another few minutes of us dithering we decided it was actually time to go. It was clear Dolly just needed us gone because she wanted to get on with the rest of her life. There were other slightly lost, nervous-looking teenagers in other rooms with other sad, terrified-looking parents saying goodbye. Everyone just had to let go. Joe and I both gave Dolly one final hug each, one last kiss, and then eventually we left her room.
Joe and I walked to our car in silence, and I was doing my best to hold in the tears for as long as I could. We found our car, got in, and I was about to let my tears go, when there was suddenly an almighty sob from next to me. I looked across and, much to my surprise, I saw Joe crying his heart out, and making the loudest racket.
‘Oh my God, Joe,’ I said, my own tears suddenly on hold. ‘Are you okay?’
‘She’s gone, Freya. Our baby girl is gone, and she might not ever come back again, and I’m going to miss her so much.’
‘I know, Joe, I know,’ I said, placing a hand on his back and rubbing it.
‘I’m just… I’m just so sad.’
‘Me, too,’ I said, and Joe looked at me, stopped crying for a moment, and then he fell into me and cried even harder into my shoulder. Apparently, it was going to be me who had to keep themselves together today.
We sat like that for about fifteen minutes until eventually he relented and stopped sobbing. We had a hotel booked for the night in York because it was only a short drive away, and it was supposed to be a beautiful city, full of lovely old buildings and, of course, the thirteenth-century Gothic cathedral. We were going to spend the night in York, and then drive back to Brighton in the morning. When it was clear Joe had finished crying, but was in no fit state to drive, we switched seats so I could drive, and we started off towards York.
The last week since I had got home from New York had been a bit of a blur. After watching Joe’s incredible film, everyone made themselves scarce, and we sat in bed and just talked. We spoke about all the things that had gone wrong in our marriage, and all the things we wanted to fix going forwards. We agreed to see a marriage counsellor together for as long as it took, and perhaps beyond that. I had told Joe he definitely needed to continue making House Shared with the BBC, and how it could be something of a historical document of our marriage, and also perhaps a warning sign for the future. We were one hundred per cent open and honest with each other, and we told each other everything – the good, the bad and decidedly fucking ugly – and then after about three hours of that, we had sex, and it was by far the best sex we’d had in many years.
Since then it felt like we were back in the honeymoon period of our relationship, although overshadowed slightly by Dolly packing up her room and leaving for university. Now she was gone, and after we had picked ourselves up, it was time for us to begin the next chapter of our lives together. Act two was officially underway.
I met with Sam over coffee and explained everything. I felt awful for him, but he had taken my news with genuine good grace and been nothing but kind and supportive. He had said that despite being sad for himself, he was happy we had managed to work things out. Somewhere out there was a very lucky lady, who was going to get a brilliant boyfriend one day.
With Joe getting his show commissioned at the BBC, we had decided to splurge, and we were staying at The Grand hotel in York, which was sumptuous and lovely. Over a full English breakfast at the hotel the following morning, we both spoke about what we wanted to do next.
‘I’m in no rush to get back,’ said Joe. ‘Carl said it will be at least another few weeks before we get into meetings with the BBC.’
‘I could take a few days off work. I mean, I only just had a week off for New York, but they won’t miss me for a couple of days.’
‘Right then,’ said Joe. ‘Where do you fancy going?’
‘Anywhere?’
‘Within reason. Anywhere in England.’
‘Or Wales?’
‘Or Wales.’
‘Let me think,’ I said, and then I took a sip of my coffee and a bite of toast. ‘You know somewhere I’ve never been?’
‘Hull? Bradford? Aberystwyth?’
‘Yes, I mean, I haven’t been to any of those places, but also, I’ve never been to Liverpool.’
‘Liverpool? That’s where you want to go?’
‘Why not? The birthplace of The Beatles. I think at least once in your life, you should probably go to Liverpool, and then maybe Stratford-upon-Avon to see where William Shakespeare was born. Have you ever been?’
‘Actually, I haven’t.’
‘That’s settled then. Liverpool and then Stratford-upon-Avon.’
‘Okay,’ said Joe with a smile, popping some bacon in his mouth.
After breakfast we wandered around York, which was lovely, spoke with Dolly on the phone to see how her first night had gone, and she was fine, if not slightly hungover. After seeing the sights, we returned to our hotel and had sex because it was such a lovely room, and it felt wrong not to, before we packed up the car, and got ready to hit the road to Liverpool. It was about a two-and-a-half-hour drive to Liverpool, and while Joe was driving, I booked us into the Hard Day’s Night Beatles-themed hotel.
‘Right, all booked in,’ I said, putting my phone down.
Joe reached a hand across and placed it on my leg.
‘Love you, Mrs Wallace.’
‘Love you, too, Mr Wallace. So, when is the big day?’
‘Our re-wedding?’
‘Exactly. You asked me to marry you again, and now I’m expecting a wedding.’
Joe laughed, before he looked across the car at me and said, ‘Actually, I was thinking about this Christmas.’
‘Won’t it be a bit chilly for a wedding?’
‘In England, yes, but in the Maldives, I think it’s looking quite pleasant.’
‘The Maldives! How much are the BBC paying you again?’
‘Enough. Plus, I was thinking about keeping it small. Just you, me and Dolly. How does that sound?’
‘I think, it sounds fucking amazing!’
‘Right then, let’s get it booked up. I’ve always wanted to stay in one of those little villas over the water.’
‘Oh, me too!’
Joe kept driving, and I started looking at resorts in the Maldives on my phone, and as we got nearer to Liverpool, I couldn’t help but think back to that day when Joe and I met at Pelicano Coffee Co in The Lanes and decided to separate. That felt like a million years ago now, a different lifetime, and yet it was only just over six months ago. Sometimes years passed by, and you really felt like nothing had changed, and it was true because some years not much happened, but then years like this happened when you felt like you had really lived. We had been through something and came out the other side still intact. It did make me appreciate that life changed and evolved, and if so much had happened in the last six months, why couldn’t the next six months or year be just as turbulent? Joe had his show with the BBC that would no doubt take up much of his time, and he would be going backwards and forwards to London, and who knew what would happen with that? Maybe it would become a runaway success, his career could take off again, and maybe in a year, we’d be living in Los Angeles, Joe working on a film or a huge American television show. I still wanted to become a solicitor, and who knew where that would take me, and then there was Dolly to think about, too. Life was unpredictable even when you thought it couldn’t surprise you any more. The only thing I knew at that moment, as we drove towards Liverpool, was that I loved Joe and Joe loved me, and that was enough.