50. Present Day – February
50
PRESENT DAY – FEbrUARY
JOSIE
S kewering a piece of aubergine on my fork, I flash my brother a grin before I pop it into my mouth, grateful to him for breaking the tension a minute ago by almost flashing.
Scott’s hand squeezes mine, our fingers laced together under the table. I’m so relieved to have his support here while I try to keep calm. Keep everyone happy. Keep the freaking peace. His presence makes me feel stronger, like he believes in me so I can, too.
But so much for telling my parents about going away — today feels like trying to navigate a rollercoaster, and we’ve not even begun to talk about travelling. I was lulled into a false sense of security by my mum, who had seemed okay with Scott and I, only to hit me with a hair / job / tattoo triple disapproval combo. And as for my dad: a disappearing act followed by steely silence? It’s loud and clear that he’s not impressed, without him needing to say a word.
But perhaps we’re through the worst of it now?
Mum clears her throat.
Oh no, I know that cough.
‘So, how’s things in your bedsit?’
My shoulders tense as I think of her attacking my precious, sacred flat. My safe oasis. ‘It’s not quite that small.’ I try to keep my voice level. ‘It’s an apartment .’ Breathe, Josie . ‘And it’s great, thanks.’
‘What do you think of it, Scottie?’
‘It’s Scott , Mum,’ Jamie interrupts.
He shakes his head as if to say it doesn’t matter before answering, ‘I love what she’s done with the place.’
‘Don’t you think it’s a bit cramped?’ Mum turns back to me. ‘You could move back here, love.’
Is she actually kidding me?
Every vein throbs, every synapse zings, every muscle fibre tenses.
‘No.’ I set my glass down and it lands more heavily than I intended, making Mum flinch.
‘Jo Jo,’ Dad rumbles in warning.
I look down at the linen napkin spread over my lap, its crisp, white perfection marred with a splotch of sauce from the meal, and I feel a twinge of shame that I’ve ruined it.
It hits me. My parents are never going to get me.
I’m the sauce stain on their napkin of life. They’d rather starve and keep clean, than feast and get messy.
I can’t live like this.
Fuck it.
I look to Scott and murmur, ‘I’ve had enough.’ Taking a deep breath, I turn to my parents. ‘I’m going travelling,’ I say simply. ‘Around the world.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Mum frowns, confused. ‘And who would you go with? Ella can’t?—’
‘With Scott.’
As she pans back and forth between us, he lifts our entwined hands and rests them on the tablecloth.
‘We’re going together.’ He gives me another of his squeezes.
Silence.
‘That’s grea—’ Jamie begins to celebrate.
Mum cuts him off with a sharp, ‘What?’
Dad’s eyes narrow.
‘It’s only for six months,’ I say, hoping to head off their overreaction. ‘It’ll be over in a flash.’
‘You can’t be serious.’ Dad’s voice clashes with the screeching of his chair as he stands.
‘Honey, don’t—’ Mum tries to interrupt him, raising her hand as if to calm him.
‘No, I’m not having it.’ Flecks of spittle flies as he speaks. ‘You’re too young. It’s not safe. He is… He’s … He’s too old for you.’
Every fucking word Dad spews makes me see red.
Then Dad looks to Mum and shakes his head. ‘And I’m not letting him take Josie from us like he took Marcus.’ He balls his napkin up and throws it onto the table.
Releasing Scott’s hand, I stand, too. ‘Dad, that’s total bollocks .’
Already striding from the room, he doesn’t hear me.
A stunned silence hangs for a beat as we watch him storm out.
Then Mum turns to me. ‘Love … ’ She hesitates, picking her words. ‘It is a big thing. It’s a lot. You really need to give it a lot of thought.’
‘I have ,’ I exclaim, sitting down with a thud. If she ever asked about my ambitions, she’d know. ‘It means I can see the world. Work on my art. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.’
‘Oh, Jo Jo. ’ Her expression crumples. ‘You change your mind like the wind. Always flitting from one craze to the next.’
‘No, I don’t.’ It’s pretty much been art and exploring for years now … and, more recently, obsessing over Scott.
‘There was trampolining, acting school, synchronised swimming …’
She’s bringing up my synchronised swimming era from when I was twelve? Jeez, that’s a low blow.
‘I just …’ Cross for allowing myself to get affected, my eyes fill with tears. ‘I just want to try things.’ I swipe at my cheek. ‘Experience life. It’s so short, there’s not enough time to do it all. What’s wrong with that?’
‘What’s wrong?’ She sits up straighter. ‘You’re a young woman now. You need to stop these flights of fancy and silly games. Settle down to real life.’
‘Life?’ My voice raises. ‘All I know of life is that it’s fleeting and we need to savour every moment. And …’ I break off, struggling to calm my breathing.
Scott palms my thigh, my steady rock in this stormy sea. I’ve felt his support, his love, all day. I draw on his strength to tell her how I really feel.
‘Listen, Mum. We want different things. You want me to live in a box, fit the exact mould you want. Your mould, in fact. Lovely house, boring job, safe choices, never leaving. Never living .’
Mum clutches a ringed hand to her chest, pain wrinkling her eyes. I don’t want to hurt her but, somehow, I need to explain that she’s hurting me. Make her see that she’s suffocating me.
‘I can’t live like that,’ I continue. ‘There’s so much life out there. So much colour.’ I fan my hand around the room, gesturing to Mum’s cream and white decor. ‘You seem to insist that the colour, the life, is stripped out of everything before you think it’s … acceptable. Safe.’
‘I just want to keep you happy, Josie. Content.’
‘You don’t want that. I’m happy doing what I’m doing, but it’s never good enough for you.’
‘I just want to keep you safe ,’ Mum sobs, squeezing her eyes shut.
‘I know.’ I soften my voice. I feel like I’m stabbing myself in the heart as much as I am her. ‘But you can’t, Mum.’ I rake in a breath before saying, ‘You can only trust that when I jump, I’ll fly.’
Mum keeps her eyes screwed shut against me, a single tear leaking out as she blindly shakes her head.
I’d hoped she’d get it. I’d hoped that my heartfelt plea would open her eyes. Literally. But I was foolish to think she could ever understand me.
Turning in my seat, I say, ‘Come on, Scott,’ and jerk my head towards the door. ‘We’re done here.’
‘Are you sure you want to go?’ he mouths at me, eyeballing Mum.
Mum doesn’t move, her jaw ticks as if trying to stop something. A laugh, a cry. It’s hard to tell.
Tears falling freely down my face, I give a resigned shrug.
He takes my hand and then says, ‘Thank you for having me Mrs. Clar— Janet. I’m going to take Josie home now.’ We both push to stand in unison. ‘I’ll take good care of your daughter.’
Jamie stares sadly at his plate as I pull Scott from the room.
Needing to just get out , I’m already through the front door before Scott’s managed to get his coat on. Wrapping my arms around myself, I march over to his van.
The gate’s been left open and Dad’s car is missing. He must have sped off in a rage, and I shudder at the thought of him driving dangerously.
When Scott bips the lock, I hoist myself into the cab. He climbs in, too, scooping me into his arms, holding me to his large chest. I cling to him as if he can protect me from everything outside of us, and he clutches me back, as if he believes he can.
Moving his hands, he caresses my neck, cups my face, holds his forehead to mine.
‘Angel …’ His whispered words fail for a moment. ‘You okay?’ He kisses me, cradling my head, swiping his thumb across my wet cheeks. ‘Or is that a silly question?’
Shutting my eyes, I try to process what’s just happened.
Eventually I manage to say, ‘I feel bad for leaving Jamie.’
‘He’ll understand. It was pretty intense in there.’
‘Not only today. I feel bad for moving out and leaving him with their unrelenting pressure.’ I pull back to look him in his beautiful eyes. ‘I feel bad for booking tickets and hightailing half way around the fucking world.’
I swipe some unruly hair behind my ear.
‘He’ll understand,’ he repeats, stroking my jaw. ‘He seemed happy for you.’
‘Fuck,’ I force a laugh. ‘I knew slapping on a pair and standing up for myself wasn’t going to be easy, but that was …’ I puff out an exhale of overwhelm, of relief. ‘Please, can you take me home.’
‘Sure thing, Angel.’
Evening is starting to draw in as we pull on to the dusky road. Fucking grey February.
‘I’m so sorry. That was …’ Scott seems to be struggling to select the best word.
‘Awful?’
With his attention on the road, Scott reaches across me and opens the glove box, pulling out a bar of chocolate and handing it to me.
‘We missed pudding,’ I sigh. ‘Sorry. I should have kept my shit together until after dessert.’
He settles back in his seat and adjusts the rearview mirror, before resting his hand on my leg again. ‘There was never going to be a good time.’
I rip open the purple wrapper and snap off a strip of squares, feeding a cube to Scott before breaking off my own. The creamy chocolate melts on my tongue and I watch the streetlights flash by.
‘It’s because they’re scared, you know?’ I say after a while.
Scott’s thumb idly strokes my knee. ‘It makes sense. They lost Marcus far too young. It must be terrifying to think of losing you or Jamie as well.’
‘I feel like I’m still trapped as a fourteen year old. They say I’m too young and that I need to grow up, yet they treat me now like they did back then.’
‘I wish I could do something to help. So they can see how amazing you really are.’
‘They wouldn’t see it. I’m too different from them. Unless I do something their way, to their standards, they’d never trust it. Their way is safe.’ We pull up to a traffic light, waiting for the emerald green to glow go. ‘Marcus was different as well. And he wasn’t safe. ’
The bright red keeps us captive at the junction as we watch the lights.
‘I could sense you weren’t yourself around them, but I had no idea …’
‘You know, I don’t even want an apology from them, I just want to move on from this … stasis. Stuck in the past. Stuck in our roles as teenager and parents. Fuck, that’s probably why mum keeps calling you Scottie . She stuck you in the past, too …’
As we pull away, the puddles on the damp ground catch my eye as they flick past. I want to capture the way light reflects from the inky surface, the greys, the blues, the many shades of black.
‘Do you mind if I paint tonight?’
Scott briefly looks at me then returns his concentration to the road. ‘Of course not.’ His grip tightens around me. ‘Do you need peace? I’d love to keep you company, but I don’t mind if you need space.’
‘I need to get my head straight. It’d be boring for you.’
‘Josie, I want to be there for you.’
‘I know.’ I cover his hand with mine. ‘And you are. But I’ll process things better on my own. Just for tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow when I’ve … come out the other side.’
‘Anything you need, Angel.’