Chapter Ashleigh Fitch and Remy Hughes 2002 Aged 40 #11
She also studied the horizontal lines of ageing on her forehead and the vertical grooves that had started to appear at the side of her mouth; marionette lines they were called, and she thought this ridiculous.
Marionettes were traditionally carved from wood, their faces unchanging as the years passed.
What was happening to her was the opposite, a soft and slow decay, the loss of volume, the slackening of skin and the inevitable maturation that saw everything living metamorphose into the shrivelled, collapsing version of its younger, vibrant self.
‘Do you think I look old?’ She sucked in her cheeks and pulled back the skin under her chin.
‘No, I bloody don’t! You’re beautiful.’ He had always said this, and she knew that for him it was true. It was the greatest gift.
‘You’re biased!’ She smiled as she hopped under the duvet.
‘Maybe.’ He ran the pad of his thumb over her cheek. ‘But to me, you are the most gorgeous woman in the world.’
‘Thank you.’ She shimmied down on the mattress until her head was on his chest and she could feel the warmth of him on her cheek.
‘I don’t like it when Jamie pitches up at her events.’
The fact the man was coming to Sophie’s end-of-term fashion show had obviously been on his mind. Her husband did this, let things stew during the day and then offloaded them just before sleep.
‘I don’t like it either.’ Any interaction with Jamie was a reminder of that brief and oh so unhappy period of turbulence, but not all bad, given her beloved Sophie.
‘But we’ll do what we always do; smile, greet him warmly and show Soph that she never has to choose and that she never has to feel guilty or uneasy. ’
‘Yep, I just wish . . .’
‘I know, baby.’ She kissed his chest.
She wished it too, that Sophie was theirs in the truest sense, and that Jamie would volunteer for a lifelong Moon mission. Although how much call there was for scaffolders up there, she wasn’t sure.
‘So what did your mum do to upset you?’ He put the remote control down and wrapped his arms around her.
‘Upset’s a bit strong. It was more a small irritation.’
‘A small irritation that you’ve carried all day and felt the need to mention now, so tell me.’
The irony wasn’t lost on her that this was precisely what he had done with Jamie.
‘We were talking about Dad’s birthday lunch, and she said she was going to invite Ashleigh, and I told her I doubted she’d come, and she said something like, “There’s no need to be jealous of her.”’
‘Ouch!’
‘Yes, ouch! I’m not jealous of anyone, especially her!
I feel like I could say it all day every day and it would make no difference.
It started when she went to St. Jude’s, and in their view, I was left behind.
It was like they mentally put us on two different paths.
As if she went off to the land of opportunity that meant university and landing Mr Moneybags and starting her own business, moving to the big city, wearing fancy wellies, and driving a big old car even though she’s in the city. Like she switched up!’
‘While you got saddled with this downmarket existence with the man of your dreams.’
‘And thank God for that! I love you, love my life, all of it. There’s nothing downmarket about it.’ It was, as she gratefully acknowledged on a daily basis, enough.
‘Do you ever wish you’d been the one to take the exam, and were now driving around London in a big old country car?’
‘No.’ She laughed, hiding the uncomfortable truth from her husband and feeling terrible that she did so. ‘I like my little car!’
‘It’s not going to change, not ever, love. Your parents have that belief. It doesn’t occur to them that you always had choices. You’re so smart, you could have done anything you chose with your life, still could.’
She felt the heat of discomfort on her skin, knowing she was lying to him about the fact that she had won the scholarship.
It sat between them, the only thing that did, but she knew that to tell him now, after all this time, might only cause a rift, and she couldn’t stand the thought of that.
It was obvious with hindsight that she should have told him when they met, the event not pressing in her thoughts in those early years, but time had passed, and the path had been set.
‘What I chose was to keep Sophie. To make her my priority, to start a family; even though I knew eventually I’d be doing it without Jamie, I didn’t mind.
I always figured that it would be harder in some ways to do it alone, but easier in so many others.
’ She shifted in the bed so she could face him.
That night, the one that gave her scars, had robbed her of so much, filling her with fear that out in the big, wide world, strangers, for no reason she could fathom, might want to hurt you.
‘It’s a weird one.’ She coughed, and shook her head slightly to rid the image of those boots, pistons.
‘How much value they placed on going to St. Jude’s, as if it was the answer to everything! ’
‘It was for them, giving you both chances they never got. They saw it as your ticket, like it was the only way to harness your cleverness.’ He let this hang.
‘They made me feel for years like I let them down. Not that they said as much, but their faces, the little shrugs, and glances when we all had to traipse into town to get my sister’s uniform, then the day she started, and I went off to Milton Road.
It was always a thing. They revelled in the open days, the sports events, speech days, the music recitals, all of it, as if they’d won the place! ’
‘Well, you shouldn’t feel like that. You do so much for them, like you’re afraid to let them down.
’ She blinked, knowing there was more truth in his words than he realised.
‘And in their defence, it’s kind of like that, isn’t it, we do feel pride for our kids’ achievements.
I know you’ll be looking at Sophie’s creations at her show, thinking, That’s my girl! ’
‘I will.’ She took a deep breath. ‘But even when we sat our final exams and I got better grades than Ashleigh, I swear they somehow believed that my exams had been easier and weren’t the exact same A levels, set by the exact same exam board that Ash had sat!
I could have gone to university had I not got pregnant, I could have done lots of things, but I didn’t want to.
For a million reasons I didn’t want to. I was so scared, I needed to stay home, to be still, quiet. ’
‘I understand, my love. Please don’t let it bother you.’
‘What bothers me is the way my mum won’t let it drop.
As if they can’t understand that I’m happy, satisfied with my lot.
’ She closed her eyes, readying for sleep.
This wasn’t strictly true. What bothered her most was being reminded of her part in the whole debacle and the deceit that had dogged her more and more in recent years.
They were angry that she’d deliberately let them down, and she was unable to explain that she hadn’t meant to, not at all.
And worse still was the fact that if she came clean now, they’d be let down anyway, because she’d lied to them, made Ashleigh lie too! She wished it would all go away.
‘Anyway, I don’t think you need to worry. I doubt your sister will make it to your dad’s birthday. She hasn’t for the last two and missed Mother’s Day last year.’
‘Ah, well, you’d be wrong! She’s coming, apparently.’
‘Wow!’ Midge tsked. ‘I expect your mum will be thinking about redecorating or getting the carpets cleaned, buying a new sofa or putting up a banner across the street.’
‘Probably.’ She smiled, no matter how much his assessment irked her.
‘Aren’t you looking forward to seeing her? It’s been a while.’
She thought how best to phrase it. ‘I am, of course I am. But it’s complicated.’
It was hard to accurately explain the relationship with her twin, the inseverable, deep connection that bound them.
It meant she would fight for her, protect her, and often knew if something was wrong, how she might be feeling, if Ashleigh was going to call before she did.
There was an inexplicable thread of comprehension that was beyond the material, and always had been.
But that didn’t mean she always liked her.
‘I love it when she comes home, but I love it just as much when she leaves! And I hate how she says the word London, as if it’s a special pronunciation for people who live there, like people who put a “th” into chorizo because they spent a wet weekend in Bar-th-elona, or people who say sked-yule instead of shed-yule because they watch too much American TV! Things like that. It annoys me.’
‘I can tell, and if it’s any consolation, I feel the same about Archie the chinless wonder sharing second-hand tales of all his pals who went to Sandhurst – it really gets my goat!
“Do you know Gerry Buntingford McAllister? He was with the Household Cav?” as if I bloody would!
He has no clue about life in the military, but because he’s heard a couple of stories and one of his distant relatives fought at Waterloo, he thinks he knows it all. He wouldn’t last a week.’
‘You have to be patient. You have to be kind.’
‘I will. I am.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Do we know for a fact that Master Archie of Fitchington is coming too?’
It was funny, the names he came up with for the man that were always spot on.
‘Not sure.’
‘I think the only person who will be praying more than me that he doesn’t have to attend is Lord Farquaad himself.’
‘Lord Farquaad?’ Her laughter cackled from her. ‘You have to stop it, or one day you might inadvertently call him one of these names and it would be terrible!’
‘It would. You’re right. Especially if it was one of my less favourable ones like The Right Honourable Chicken Pox, because he’s about as welcome and makes my skin itch!’
‘Honestly, Midge, no more!’
‘Okay, it seems that we can strike a deal.’ He twisted towards her.