Chapter 14 #3
If Lizzie had guessed, she didn’t say. Despite the obvious sadness I felt, it wasn’t lost on me that given how sick our mum was, we were lucky she was still with us. We made the most of those days, aware that time was no longer open ended.
The boys’ final term of college came to an end and the celebrations started.
Then a week later, we all gathered for Lizzie and Rick’s wedding in the breathtaking gardens of a barn that had been converted into a wedding venue.
It was a lot less grand than where Gareth and I held our reception, but from start to finish, it was a beautiful day in every respect.
The sun shone, the bride looked stunning, while Rick just walked around looking dazed, presumably because he couldn’t believe Lizzie had agreed to be his wife.
It was bittersweet, yet still the happiest day. It was also one that affirmed what family was really about. What love was about, too. A day during which Gareth was oddly silent.
Having returned to the fold, the boys had remained unaware of the real reason for his absence, a fact that I was oddly proud of, despite the emotional turmoil I’d been through.
I should also point out that my parents also were unaware of the whole shebang, completely buying my explanation that Gareth’s absence had been work related.
For Christ’s sake, they even congratulated him.
Yes, so ridiculous, you couldn’t make it up.
And with my mum so ill, it was hardly the time to enlighten them.
Anyway, back to the wedding and Gareth looking somewhat perplexed. ‘They really love each other, don’t they?’ His eyes rested on Lizzie and Rick.
I shrugged. ‘That’s generally the case when people get married.’ I didn’t want him reflecting on us, putting a downer on today. ‘Not all marriages are the same, Gareth.’ I paused. Then I couldn’t stop myself. ‘Honestly, when you think back, we probably shouldn’t have gone through with it.’
He looked at me, startled. ‘Why are you saying that now?’
‘Because we’re talking about it now,’ I said.
‘It’s no secret you didn’t want children – and if we’d talked about it honestly, it would have been a dealbreaker,’ I said quickly as he opened his mouth to interrupt.
‘I’m not blaming you. I knew you were reluctant.
I just didn’t realise the extent of your reluctance.
’ But more to the point, I hadn’t wanted to.
‘I still don’t know why we were so afraid to be honest with each other. ’
‘You really think it was a mistake?’ He looked gobsmacked.
‘In some ways.’ I shrugged. ‘I think you do, too. What else was your affair about? We don’t have sex. We don’t talk about anything important.’
He set his jaw. ‘We’re talking now.’
I nodded sadly. ‘But only about what’s gone wrong between us.
’ I added more kindly. I changed the subject.
‘Look at the boys. Wonderful, aren’t they?
’ I watched them – tall and handsome, sun kissed, and more than any of those things, so filled with kindness that I could feel my heart bursting with pride. ‘I’d say, on balance, we’ve done OK.’
For a moment, Gareth didn’t say anything. He poured himself another glass of champagne, then looked at me. ‘Do you want a divorce?’
I studied the face I knew so well, realising that after all these years we’d spent together, I barely knew the man behind it. ‘I don’t think that’s a conversation for today.’ I swallowed the lump in my throat. Even now, I struggled with the thought of divorcing him.
I’ll never know if Mum overheard us talking. Or whether her mother’s radar kicked in one last time. But the day after Lizzie’s wedding, I had a call from my dad.
‘It’s your mother, Tilly. She wants to see you.’
There was a gravity in the way he spoke and a sense of alarm filled me. Why hadn’t she called me herself? ‘Is she OK? I’ll come over now.’ As I spoke, I was already picking up my bag, then searching for my car keys.
‘No rush,’ he said. ‘But I think it would be good if it was today.’
His words sent a chill through me. I ended the call and scribbled a note to the still-sleeping boys.
Then closing the back door, went out to my car.
It was another scorcher of a summer’s day, the trees clad in the deep, dark green of summer leaves, the roadsides dusty.
Things I barely noticed as I drove. I knew Mum was sick. That she was dying. But I wasn’t ready.
But is anyone ever ready to lose a loved one? I turned into my parents’ drive, my heart in my mouth as I went inside, already expecting the worst, to my surprise finding my mum sitting in a chair in the kitchen.
‘Tilly.’ She smiled. ‘Thank you for coming.’
‘I was coming over anyway.’ I went over and leant down to kiss her cheek, then pulled up a chair next to her. ‘How are you, Mum?’
‘I’m OK.’ Her eyes were distant. ‘But I don’t want to talk about me.’ She paused. ‘It’s you I’m worried about.’
‘There’s no need.’ I gazed through the sliding doors that were open onto the garden. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Oh Tilly…’ She sounded wistful. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but I know if I don’t, I’ll regret it.
Apparently, it’s best not to die with regrets, or so I’m told.
’ For a moment, she sounded more like my old mum, before she was sick.
‘It isn’t anything new. I’ve been noticing for some time.
And forgive me, for not saying anything before, but… ’
Going on, she told me how she’d noticed the distance between me and Gareth. How he seemed to be emotionally switched off; how she’d always had the feeling something was missing between us.
I listened. I thought about lying. Then I thought how the knowledge that her life was coming to an end had only served to sharpen her focus.
So, in the end, I did what felt right. I was honest with her.
‘You’re right. About everything, Mum.’ I felt a weight come off me.
Then I told her about meeting Adam – OK, so leaving out the part about the afternoon we’d spent together.
She was silent for a moment. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘You mustn’t worry,’ I said hastily. ‘It was a long time ago and I’m fine with it all. Really.’
Shock washed across her face. ‘I remember him. He was the man who sent a bottle of champagne to our table – on your hen night.’
I nodded. ‘That was him. That was the first time I met him. Do you remember what you said?’ I watched her face.
A look of realisation dawned in her eyes. ‘It was about weddings bringing out the best in people, wasn’t it?’
I nodded. ‘Mum? Can you keep this just between us?’
‘If you mean “can I not tell your father?”, of course I won’t.’ She frowned. ‘Does Lizzie know?’
‘Yes.’ I sighed. ‘She’s never liked Gareth – did you know that?’
My mum’s eyes widened. ‘I had no idea. I have to ask, though. What made you go ahead with the wedding?’
‘I thought about calling it off,’ I said slowly. ‘But in the end, I suppose it felt like the right thing. I thought Gareth and I would be good together.’
My mum made a harumph kind of sound.
‘Anyway,’ I went on. ‘Who leaves their fiancé for a man they’ve known less than a week?’
‘I suppose that would depend on the man.’ She looked at me sadly. ‘So many secrets, Tilly… I’ve always liked to think that we could be open with each other.’
‘Sorry, Mum.’ Guilt flooded over me. ‘But I was struggling, to be honest. At the time, it was easier not to talk about it.’
‘Well, I’m jolly glad you have told me. Just imagine, me going to my grave not knowing that.’
I looked at her, startled. ‘You’re not going anywhere just yet, Mum.’
She sighed. ‘I don’t think it will be long.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘Tilly?’ Her eyes gazed into mine. ‘You deserve happiness as much as any of us. You do know that, don’t you? If you’re not happy with Gareth, why don’t you leave him?’
I stared at her, shocked. ‘The trouble is, I don’t know how to. And there’s the boys…’
‘The boys are going away before too long.’ She was silent again. ‘Life is short, Tilly. Happiness doesn’t come our way all that often. But if it does, promise me. This time, you’ll grab it with both hands.’
‘OK,’ I said shakily, wiping away a tear. ‘Thanks, Mum.’ My emotions were all over the place. ‘You’re the best.’
‘I’m not, am I? Or I would have said something a long time ago.
’ She was on a roll. ‘If at any point your father starts up about the evils of divorce, don’t listen to him.
’ She sounded determined. ‘Far better to cut your losses than waste the rest of your life with a man who doesn’t – who’s never – deserved you. ’
It was the last conversation we had, just the two of us, as too soon, it was followed by the saddest day. After rallying to see Lizzie married, my mum waited until she and Rick were back from their honeymoon, before passing away peacefully in her sleep.
We’d known it was on the cards, but it made no difference.
Coming sooner than any of us were prepared for, our entire family was devastated.
I knew from that point onward, life was never going to be the same.
There were the inevitable calls to people to whom my mum had been important, her funeral to plan; her loss weaving a thread of sadness into all our lives.
Meanwhile, Lizzie had the bright idea of giving my dad a cat. She also had an answer to my objections, that our dad was struggling to look after himself, let alone anything else.
‘It’s company, Tills. Another heartbeat in the house – don’t you see?’
The cat proved a distraction, if nothing else, as our lives slowly morphed to fit this strange world we found ourselves in.
After worrying about my mum, now I was worrying about my father.
When it came to the practicalities, my mum had always done everything.
See the recurring theme? It meant that without her, I had no idea how he was going to cope, which meant someone had to help him.
With Lizzie newly married, and hard at work on her interior design business, it was the unspoken yet nevertheless obvious solution that that person was going to be me.
With hindsight – that word again – my mum’s death should have galvanised me into taking a good hard look at my own life.
Into seizing each day; to make the most of the rest of my life, as she’d urged me.
But instead, the disconnect between me and Gareth seemed less important than it ever had.
Our marriage was reduced to coexisting in the same house, as I busied myself looking after everyone else.
Then in what seemed like no time, the boys left for uni and I found myself a part-time job as everything changed yet again.