Fifteen
Early April 2004
As I sit on the last part of my very long train journey down to Cornwall, watching the passing scenery gradually change into the landscape I know so well, I don’t feel the same joy I usually do as I approach St Felix.
Usually when I return home, it’s for a holiday or an event of some kind – something cheerful, something to look forward to. But this time is different. This time, I know it’s going to be anything but joyful.
I got the phone call about ten days ago. My mum called me one day when I was shopping for groceries – or messages as my Scottish friends and neighbours called them – in Glasgow city centre, before I went home to my flat.
Nothing unusual in that. Mum often rang me to pass on some local gossip, or to simply check how I am, even though I’m now thirty years old.
‘You’re still my little girl, Frankie,’ she’d say. ‘I still worry about you, especially since you still live so very far away from us.’
So there was nothing strange in Mum phoning – what was odd was she always rang on my home phone, never on my mobile.
‘Mum?’ I said with concern into my phone in the middle of the M a little bit of rain and a damp arrival is nothing compared to what Mandy and her family are going through right now.
Mandy’s younger sister, Hetty, and her husband, David, had been killed in a skiing accident in the Swiss Alps when a freak avalanche happened as a result of a heavy snowstorm, and tomorrow was their funeral.
Even though Hetty and David lived in London with their young son, who thankfully wasn’t with them on the trip, they both originated from St Felix, so that is where their funeral service is being held, and where they are going to be buried, in the cemetery up on the hill.
As far as I’m aware, all the mermaids are coming back to pay their respects and to support Mandy at the funeral.
After Claire’s wedding it was difficult to keep in touch. We tried via a sort of chain-letter system for a while, where we’d all write one group letter, and then pass it on to another mermaid one by one until we all received and read it. Then it would be someone else’s turn to write. This worked for a while, but as people became busier and their lives changed, the letters became less and less until they petered out altogether.
Claire and I spoke on the phone fairly regularly and to begin with, Eddie, Suzy, Mandy and I all rang each other in an attempt to keep in touch, but eventually that faded out too, for the same reason as the letters – busy lives and not enough time.
There were a few attempts to physically get everyone together, but often someone would have to drop out at the last minute, and we’d all agree to reorganise for another time. But then something would crop up to prevent that happening, and in the end we gave up even trying to arrange anything.
However, it was the popularity of the internet and mainly email, which as Mandy correctly predicted, completely changed how we kept in touch with each other.
We all joined Friends Reunited to keep up with our fellow schoolmates, but most importantly we were now able to email each other privately, and, most often, all the mermaids at once in what was called a ‘group email’. We were even occasionally doing MSN Messenger, where we could all chat online together by typing messages to each other in real time. This completely revolutionised how we were able to keep in touch, and, instead of drift apart as I feared would happen, these days we spoke to each other using the internet more than at any time since we left school.
All except Rob, that was.
*
He went to America after Claire’s wedding, stayed there and had not returned to university. I know he kept in touch with some of the others because they were the ones who would tell me what he was doing. The other mermaids think we’ve not spoken to each other since the night of Claire’s wedding.
Which isn’t exactly the truth . . .
Because not only have Rob and I spoken to each other, last New Year’s Eve we did a little bit more than just talk . . .
Hogmanay is a big thing in Scotland. I didn’t realise quite how big until I lived in Glasgow. I left art college with the degree I worked so hard for and lots of hope for the future. But it very quickly became clear that having an art degree and actually getting work as an artist were completely different ball games, ones I was not equipped to play at all well.
I took jobs in cafés and shops – always temporary positions, because I thought that my big break in the art world was going to be just around the corner. But when two years passed and the corner kept getting further and further away, I finally admitted to myself that not only did I need a more permanent job, but I also needed a place of my own. I was still house-sharing at the time and I was starting to crave my own space, some peace and quiet, and somewhere I could paint and create my own artwork. Not with a view to selling anything or creating a portfolio, but simply for me, without being constantly interrupted or watched over by my housemates.
I managed to get my first permanent job in one of the larger art galleries in Glasgow, and that is where I’ve been for the last five years. I started as a gallery assistant, and I’ve now progressed into more of a curator and managerial role.
So when friends of mine persuaded me to go to a fancy-dress party in Edinburgh for Hogmanay last year, I gladly accepted. I had no ties, no current boyfriend, I was still relatively young, free and single.
I thought I’d have a fun night, that’s all, and I’d see in 2004 in style in one of Edinburgh’s elegant and expensive Georgian townhouses. I didn’t think I’d be introduced to a Hollywood actor that night, and I especially didn’t think that actor would be Rob.
When Rob first went to the States, he had a few minor roles in television commercials to begin with, and then he got a small, but regular job on a daytime American soap opera, which the writers made into a much bigger role as time went on. He was in a few low-budget movies too, but I never saw him in anything and, to be honest, at the time I wasn’t too bothered if I ever did.
Rob was a schoolgirl crush and an almost-dalliance at my friend’s wedding. He was nothing more than a distant memory. The only time I ever thought about him with any concern was for a few seconds when I heard about the 9/11 terror attacks in New York a few years ago, but I quickly remembered that, although Rob originally went to New York to meet Jenna, he was now based in Los Angeles.
But on New Year’s Eve, for the movie-themed party, I was dressed as Catwoman, an outfit that didn’t go unnoticed by many of the male guests at the party. When I’d just about had enough of men lusting after their own Catwoman fantasy, and I knocked back not only a stream of advances, but an even larger number of glasses of champagne too, one of my friends thought it would be hilarious if I was introduced to a guest dressed as Batman. This guy was not the cartoon-esque Batman of sixties TV with tights and a dodgy codpiece, but the full ‘Dark Knight’ Batman of the movies and even I had to admit as I prepared to give another kind but firm rejection, that he did look quite sexy in his all-black outfit and mask.
‘Hey,’ he said after we were pushed together. ‘Nice outfit.’
I was about to reply the same, when I paused, looked closely at him then simply said, ‘Rob?’
Rob, like me, drank a fair amount that night. And as the clock struck twelve, I expected to find myself batting away offers of a midnight kiss. But, instead, I found myself sneaking out of the party still dressed as Catwoman, running through the streets of Edinburgh hand in hand with Batman, towards one of the best five-star hotels in the city.
Where two superheroes spent a rather enjoyable New Year’s Day together. Until Batman had to return to his Batcave in LA, and Catwoman had to get a train back to Glasgow, and neither of them has ever spoken of the event since.
I sigh as I look out of the train window. I know Rob is going to be at the funeral in a couple of days’ time – Claire told me he was coming. But I really hope I won’t have to speak to him that much, not for any length of time, anyway. What had happened in Edinburgh, although lovely at the time, quickly turned into something I now deeply regret.
The train pulls into St Felix station, and with the rain still pouring down I alight alongside all the other passengers.
As I’m debating whether my waterproof coat is going to be enough, or whether I’m going to need the addition of my umbrella, I hear a familiar voice calling my name from further along the platform.
‘Frankie!’
‘Eddie!’ I say as a man wearing a bright yellow mackintosh comes charging up the platform towards me. ‘Oh my God, were we on the same train?’
‘It seems so. I can’t believe it!’
We try to hug each other, but with all our waterproof clothing it’s not easy, and quite squeaky.
‘I see you’ve brought the rain down with you from Glasgow,’ Eddie says, looking up at the grey clouds. ‘It was fine when I left London – even some spring sunshine!’
‘I can’t deny we do have our fair share of rain up there,’ I admit. ‘This is crazy – what time was your train from Paddington?’
‘Twelve thirty-five. What about you?’
‘Same! Man, we could have travelled together and caught up. I can’t believe we’ve been on two trains from London together and not seen each other until now.’
‘Especially with me in this coat!’ Eddie says. ‘Are you blind?’
I grin. ‘Come on, let’s walk together. Where are you staying while you’re here?’
‘B and B at the Merry Mermaid,’ Eddie says as we walk alongside each other, pulling our suitcases behind us.
‘I didn’t know it was a B and B now?’
‘Yeah, Rob’s mum and dad sold it last year and moved away. It has new owners now.’
‘Oh, that’s news to me.’ It wasn’t. Rob told me at New Year, but I didn’t want to let on to the others we’d hooked up.
‘Well, it would be, wouldn’t it?’
‘Why?’ I ask casually as we leave the station and begin walking into the town.
‘Because we don’t share much news about Rob when you’re on MSN.’
‘Why on earth not?’ I ask, playing along. I know I didn’t mention Rob, for fear of letting our secret out. But I wasn’t aware that the others held back when we were all chatting.
‘Cos you’re funny about it.’
‘No, I’m not,’ I reply a little too ferociously. ‘And even if I was, how would you tell? You can’t see me.’
Eddie shrugs and drops of water fly from his mackintosh like a wet dog shaking himself. ‘We just get that vibe from you.’
‘Well, you’re wrong. I haven’t been bothered about Rob for ten years now. Besides, you know I’ve had other boyfriends since then.’
‘And how’s that going for you?’ Eddie asks calmly. ‘Erm . . . it’s Oliver at the moment, isn’t it?’
‘Oliver was way before Christmas last year. Dougie is the most recent.’
‘ Dougie
, sorry. I didn’t know.’
‘No need to worry about it. We just split up recently too.’
‘Blimey, Frankie, you sure get through them. Who knew the art world was such a lovefest!’
‘I can’t speak for the whole of the art world, but I do seem to meet a lot of single men via my work at the gallery.’
‘Please share some of them!’ Eddie declares dramatically. ‘Since I started running the restaurant, I barely have time to sleep, let alone for anything more exciting in bed!’
‘Most of them aren’t worth sharing,’ I say honestly. ‘Far too full of their own self-importance. There’s just the odd one or two that I might take a shine to occasionally.’
‘How’s it going at the gallery? Are you still enjoying it?’
‘Yes, I am. Especially the curator side of my job. I may not be displaying my own work, but I enjoy looking after other people’s.’
‘One day, perhaps?’ Eddie says encouragingly.
‘Nah, I think that ship has probably sailed now. Anyway, working with art rather than trying to sell your own is much more profitable. I’ve just moved into a new apartment – it’s much bigger than my last flat, so I’ve much more space to paint for my own pleasure now.’
‘Cool.’
‘How’s the restaurant game, then?’ I ask.
Eddie, much to our surprise, gave up the theatre when he was twenty-two, retrained as a chef, then managed to nab himself a very junior position in the Ritz in London. After progressing through the ranks of the hotel’s kitchen, Eddie is now managing a restaurant of his own not far from Covent Garden in London. It’s owned by two well-known pop stars, but Eddie’s in charge of the day-to-day running of the restaurant and all the menus.
‘Exhausting!’ Eddie says dramatically. ‘But fabulous at the same time. I love it!’
‘Sounds like you’ve found your niche in life,’ I tell him. ‘I never thought it would be food rather than performing, though.’
‘I don’t know. Have you seen behind the scenes in a chef’s kitchen? It’s full of drama and larger-than-life performers.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘I think this is where we part company,’ Eddie says, pausing on the pavement. ‘I assume you’re going straight to your parents’ house?’
‘Yeah, I’d better go and see how they’re getting on.’
‘Not many of us left that have family here now, are there?’ he says. ‘My mum moved away ages ago, and Suzy and Rob’s parents have gone now too. There’s only you, Claire and Mandy, I think?’
‘Yes.’ I pause on hearing Mandy’s name mentioned for the first time. ‘Oh, God, Eddie, tomorrow is going to be awful, isn’t it?’
Eddie nods. ‘It is. I have no idea what I’m going to say to Mandy, or her parents.’
‘I know. What can you say other than I’m so dreadfully sorry? It just sounds so banal. Without meaning. When really what we want to say is, “This is heartbreakingly awful. We all feel absolutely terrible, so we have no idea how you must be coping.” ’
‘Perhaps we can say that to Mandy if we see her before?’ Eddie says. ‘Save the polite condolences for her parents. Mandy was always honest with us, wasn’t she? Maybe we should be honest with her?’
I nod. ‘Mandy was never one for polite chit-chat. She always got straight to the point.’
‘Often with honest brutality.’ Eddie smiles. ‘But at least you knew where you stood with her. She never had anything to hide.’
‘You’re absolutely right. Mandy will appreciate us telling her how we really feel – not fudging over the truth with niceties.’
‘What are you doing later?’ Eddie asks. ‘Fancy a drink at the pub?’
‘I’d love one,’ I reply eagerly. ‘Can we get the others to come too? I mean, not Mandy, obviously; she’ll want to be with her family. But I can ask Claire, and do we know what time Suzy is getting here?’
‘She said evening, I think. Blair has some big function or something on today, so she couldn’t get away early. But apparently, she’s getting the train down as soon as she possibly can from Westminster tonight. I’ll text her and tell her our plans.’
‘Great. I’ll text Claire too and see if she can come.’
‘What about Rob?’ Eddie asks. ‘Do we know what time he’s getting here?’
‘Is he even coming?’ I shrug, even though I know he is. ‘Surely, he’s too busy being famous in Hollywood, isn’t he?’
‘Claire said he was going to try to come.’ Eddie raises his eyebrows at me. ‘I think he was as shocked as the rest of us when he heard.’
I feel bad. ‘Yeah, I guess so.’
‘Right, I’m going to go before this raincoat stops being waterproof and I get soaked through! I just hope the Merry Mermaid rooms are centrally heated or I’ll freeze to death.’ Eddie stares at me and pulls an anguished expression. ‘God, that was terribly bad taste in the circumstances.’
‘Don’t worry about it; it’s only me. I guess we’re all going to feel a little on edge during this visit. It’s not quite like the old days, is it?’
He shakes his head. ‘No, sadly. We’ve all grown up now, and we have to deal with grown-up things. Tomorrow is just one of those.’
The rain suddenly starts getting harder. ‘Right, let’s go and get dry; this rain isn’t getting any better. I’ll see you tonight in the bar at the Mermaid, say about eight o’clock?’
Eddie nods. ‘I’ll be there. We’ll just have a quiet little drink, a bit of a catch-up.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
But little do I know as I scurry along to my parents’ house, dripping rainwater as I go, that our little drink tonight will be anything but quiet.