Chapter Nine #2
‘I know. I think you found your vocation. Your first one, anyway.’
It was true. After school, she’d gone on to the performing arts degree that had taken her away from Matt.
While she was studying, she and some friends got work where they could, singing as duets and as a covers band in the smaller hotel bars.
Zennor enjoyed it but she increasingly realised that she preferred the buzz of helping her friends more than performing herself.
She earned a little extra money by becoming a casual member of staff at the theatre group, assisting the director. At the same time, as her contacts in the local entertainment and arts scene grew, she often ended up finding artists for specific jobs, from fire-eaters to tribute bands.
‘It didn’t surprise you that I ended up as a teacher?’ she said.
‘Not at all. I know your mum and dad were very proud of you. I’m sure your mother still is.’
Zennor put down the photo of her in the tap shoes. ‘Who took that?’
‘Your dad maybe, or your mum – I took a couple of them myself. I found them in the spare room with hundreds of other pictures. I think your mum and dad must have given copies to me. I’d meant to put them in albums and never got round to it.’
‘I still remember Dad’s face when I got my teaching qualification and then my first job at the secondary school.
He and Mum came to the nativity play I’d organised for the Reception class.
Dad was in tears, just like he was at all of my shows.
He never thought I’d noticed but I always did. Mum held it together much better.’
‘Your dad never shut up about you,’ Sybil said, chuckling.
‘It’s partly why I want to help these kids.
I know what it will mean to them. Lots of kids at my school had a tough time or didn’t have many treats, and if I can bring some magic into their lives – or eventually inspire them to create some magic for others – I want to do it.
’ She sighed and gave a rueful smile. ‘And anyway, I have no choice, seeing as I am never going to find anyone else in time.’
‘It’s nice to see you lit up about something. I see it more and more often these days despite … the past.’
‘You mean Matt?’
‘Well, I was thinking of Trev actually. I am afraid that your inner glow was rather extinguished by him for a while.’
‘A lot of things fell by the wayside.’
Before Trev had come along, Zennor had been sharing a house in an inland village with some of the other junior staff, spending her precious spare time and holidays at the beach and theatre.
Within a year of meeting Trev, she was Mrs Jameson – in Trev’s eyes, anyway, because she’d kept Smith as her surname for professional purposes.
She remembered those first moments alone after they were married when Trev had called her Mrs Jameson, and she’d replied that she’d find it hard to get used to.
Trev hadn’t liked that much of course and hinted that he thought she was hedging her bets in case it didn’t work out.
She’d thought he’d been in love and joking but now she was sure he had been very unhappy about her refusal to change her name.
Zennor had tried to laugh off his comments but a thought darted into her mind, which made her catch her breath.
Even before Matt had dropped his bombshell at the reception, had she had doubts?
‘Trev and I were never going to work,’ she murmured.
Sybil said nothing, listening intently.
‘You know he was already mentioning kids? I was only twenty-five. I told him there was plenty of time and he said fine, but he didn’t want to wait too long.’
‘I suppose that would always have come up, my love.’
‘I know but it was one more thing for us to argue over. The differences were already in place. Not because of Matt’s accusation, though – which I’m still not sure was true.’
‘Matt would never intend to be vindictive. He meant well, I am sure. And he wasn’t in a good place.’
‘Are you defending him for what he did?’
‘No. Yes, I suppose so …’ Sybil said with a wistful sigh. ‘He is my godson and he is a good man. You know that deep down.’
‘Do I? I thought so.’ Zennor’s stomach tightened.
‘I never knew how vindictive he could be. He had no real evidence and Trev swore that the thing with the waitress wasn’t true, but it still corroded my trust in him.
’ Zennor had never told anyone about the letter that Matt had sent after the wedding, which had only raised fresh doubts in Zennor’s mind.
Sybil was listening but saying nothing, allowing Zennor to air regrets and worries she’d kept buried.
‘I’m not sorry I split up with Trev because it didn’t work out long term and now I’ve done things I wouldn’t if I’d stayed with him. It’s just … now Matt’s back, I can’t help wondering how things might have been.’
‘With Trev or with Matt?’ Sybil asked.
Zennor was about to fire back a reply but Sybil’s expression, intense, questioning, probing, made her stop.
‘I think that’s a question best left unanswered.’
‘Shall we go back outside?’ Sybil asked, slipping the photos back in the packet. ‘Would you like to keep these? They really should be yours.’
‘Thank you,’ Zennor said. ‘They’re happy pictures and although Mum must have copies somewhere, I’m sure she’d love to look through them and reminisce. Especially if we were all together …’
‘I’m sure she would,’ Sybil murmured. ‘I’ll be out in a moment. I just need the loo. You take these.’
Zennor walked into the sunlight, the brightness making her blink repeatedly. Sybil eventually came back wearing sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat. Her words at the salon came back to Zennor.
‘I can give you some tips on playing a part. It’s much harder to pretend in life than on stage.’
‘Are you OK?’ Zennor asked.
‘OK? Of course I am.’ Her forehead furrowed. ‘What a curious question. Why do you ask?’
‘It’s only that … when I left you at the hairdresser’s, you seemed a bit – reflective.’
‘Reflective?’ Sybil chuckled. ‘That’s not a word I hear used very often these days and never in the Cut ’n’ Curl.’
‘You’re not ill, though?’
‘Ill? Me?’ Sybil scoffed and then her eyes gleamed.
‘I’m fit as a fiddle. And if you’re referring to the thing that happened a few years back, then I was assured last month at my annual check-up that I am free of the thing and one of the healthiest people they have ever seen – for my age, of course, as the impudent young doctor decided to add. ’
Zennor laughed. ‘Sixty-two isn’t that old.’
‘Perhaps not to some people, but to others, it’s decrepit. The other day, I had a boy of eight ask me if I remembered Victorian times!’
Zennor burst out laughing with amusement and relief. ‘I hope you put him right.’
‘I was tempted to play along and say that I remembered trains and cars being invented but I – gently – corrected him. Not that he cared.’ She patted Zennor’s arm.
‘And if it makes you feel any better, if I sounded rather wistful at the hairdresser, it was only because I’d heard of a death and was reminded of my own mortality, as we often selfishly are when someone of a similar age dies. ’
‘Oh, I am sorry. A close friend?’
‘An ex. We were close once, but it ended pretty acrimoniously – two thespian egos clashing. It’s not as if he was the love of my life, poor boy.’ She put on a brave smile.
‘Oh, Sybil. I’m so sorry. It’s still a shock.’
‘Yes, but let’s not spoil the day by dwelling on the past. We’ve done enough of that, don’t you think?’
Zennor hugged her and, briefly, Sybil hugged her back until she pulled away, rolling her eyes.
‘Now, now, not too much hugging or I will cry and I never cry. You put those photos in an album and remember the good times. We all need some happy memories of the past to cancel out the sad ones. And whatever you do, don’t go worrying about me. ’