Chapter 39
ELIZA
Eliza and Jez didn’t make it to the storage closet, having come to a very important decision. Even though the club had closed, it was now three in the morning and she was still sitting in the staff room, in front of his laptop, scrolling flights.
‘You’re really going to do this? Fly to Greece today?’
With a pale face, Eliza looked at him across the table, the mug of tea he’d made her, cold. ‘I’ve got to, Jez, got to tell Carrie the truth, to her face.’
‘You can tell me what this is about,’ he said softly. ‘I don’t mind if you don’t, but maybe I can help?’
She punched in her credit card’s CVC and pressed send.
It was done. She had to be at the airport at eleven.
Her flight changed at Athens. If everything went to plan she’d get into Paros at ten tonight; that is, nine o’clock UK time.
That left her three hours before Ariana and Rae’s deadline. Eliza closed the laptop.
‘Oh, Jez… it’s such a mess.’
He raised an eyebrow.
A solitary tear ran down her cheek and before she knew it, he was by her side, she was in his arms. It was one year ago today that her Mel had died.
The ache for her daughter had never left, not in all these years.
She remembered primary school times, the sweet smell of Mel’s hair after a bath, how she’d scoff a chocolate muffin and end up with a crumbly circle around her mouth, how she’d tell Eliza she was the prettiest mummy in the world.
‘You may feel very differently about me if I tell you why I really bought Carrie’s life.’
He drew back and wiped away her tear with his thumb. ‘I doubt that very much. You’re talking to the man who met his hero once and made a complete fool of himself. I may have fooled you with my cool veneer, but actually I’m just a cheesy bloke who’s made mistakes.’
Despite her predicament, Eliza smiled. ‘George Michael?’
‘Yup. We were the same age, you know. Loved him since Wham! formed. I went to one of their very first concerts. Some idiot threw a frisbee onto the stage and it hit him on the head. He didn’t flinch but danced over towards me because one of my hands was waving in the air as I boogied.
He asked if I thought it was cool. I assumed he meant his dancing so punched the air and said yes.
Next thing I know, two security guards had bundled me outside, convinced I was the frisbee thrower. ’
Slowly, a chuckle trickled out of her mouth.
‘So come on, what is it?’ His tone became gentler. ‘We’ve all got things that we keep hidden.’
Eliza exhaled. ‘Did Carrie ever talk to you about her mum’s family?’
‘No. But Mel did. She popped in over the years. Lovely lady. She had an idea about what nightclubs were like and came in to check that her daughter’s boss wasn’t a creep, and that The Niterie didn’t deal drugs.
She was a great mum. Though the same can’t be said for hers, by all accounts.
Who the hell would throw their daughter out for getting pregnant?
It wasn’t as if it had been back in the fifties – this was as the world approached its third millennium! ’
It was hard hearing the words out loud, from someone she respected, but they were nothing she hadn’t said to herself over the years.
‘It beggars belief,’ he continued, and loosened his skinny eighties white tie.
‘Yet Mel did a terrific job given the circumstances and…’ He tilted his head and something flashed in his eyes.
‘Funnily enough, there’s something about your face that reminds me a bit of her.
And… oh… she once said her dad was a bit like your ex too… Oh, God.’
Her eyes filled.
‘But you’re Eliza. Her mum was called Queenie.’
‘I used to be,’ she said roughly, ‘but not since I left Howard. Elizabeth is my full name. Queenie was something he called me, what with being a mad royalist.’
‘Wow…’
She could see the questions in his eyes, so told him more about her marriage.
‘Howard managed the money – it made sense at first. He was a man of the world when we first met, I was at school. But that didn’t change when I started earning.
He told me not to worry, that he’d take care of the boring bank stuff.
I didn’t see the danger in that at the time, that how, eventually, it would lead to me having to ask his permission to get my hair done or buy a new dress.
I only complained once and he punched the wall, told me I was ungrateful, that he was only trying to make my life easier by him doing the admin, because I was his queen. He made me feel guilty.’
Jez sat very still whilst she went on to explain how things turned physical. The little shoves that never bruised, the hugs that went on too long, too tight, until she almost couldn’t breathe, how he’d intertwine his fingers with hers and squeeze until her knuckles flared with pain…
‘He said allowing Mel to live at our house, to give birth to an illegitimate baby, would ruin his reputation at work. I stuttered that maybe people didn’t worry so much about that kind of thing these days.
He told me I wouldn’t understand, never having had a management position.
He said I was his Queenie, we had standards to uphold, a reputation to keep – that we’d never be able to show our faces in church again, as a good Christian couple.
He wasn’t even that religious! It was for show. ’
Jez made fresh mugs of tea. She drank half of hers in silence, sipping.
‘But…’ she said eventually, not meeting his gaze, ‘to be honest, I felt angry as well. You see, Mel persuaded me, a few weeks before she was sixteen, that she needed to go on the pill to help with menstrual cramps. When she got pregnant it was obvious she’d lied, it was so she could have sex.
I wish she’d been honest and confided in me.
And what was the point, the pills didn’t work anyway?
’ She let out another long, slow breath.
‘I understand now that anger was me being annoyed with myself, that she didn’t trust me not to tell her dad… and that was my fault.
‘I can’t blame anyone else for Mel having to move out, not even Howard.
I can’t blame him for me being a bad mother.
’ Her eyes filled again. ‘So you see? For all the dance moves and laughs, the business I run and authoritative words on the reception desk, here, with drunk customers, the biggest thing about me is that I wasn’t there for someone I loved dearly when it mattered. ’
‘I imagine it’s easy to see it like that now,’ he said. ‘Time brings wisdom, shows us doors that could have been opened, ignoring the fact that at the time they were firmly locked and bolted.’
She shook her head slowly.
‘Look at me, Eliza.’
She turned her head to face him.
‘You did the best you could back then. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s probably why older people are considered wise – they’ve learned through their mistakes. You clearly aren’t the same woman you used to be.’
‘At the start I hoped that buying Carrie’s life would be an opportunity to help her find a happy place, would be some recompense for us both; that in time I’d reveal who I was and give her some sense of family.
Then, as time progressed, I realised that revealing my true identity was a selfish desire and not necessarily the best thing for Carrie.
But Ariana and Rae have found out who I am and have given me a deadline of tonight to tell her the truth. ’ She rested her head on her fists.
‘A deadline? Wow. You can’t get it bumped at least a day?’
Eliza shook her head. ‘I did text and ask but they think I’m trying to put it off, that tomorrow I’ll have come up with yet another excuse. They think I’ve already fooled Carrie for long enough. I… I get it.’
Jez reached across the table and took her hand.
‘I’m coming with you to Paros. No arguments.’
‘What? But Jez, no, I…’
‘You are a capable, independent woman, but we all need moral support. I don’t know where our relationship is going, Eliza, but I hope we’ll always be friends at least, and you might appreciate one of those on this trip.’
‘You don’t hate me?’ Her voice trembled.
‘Of course not. Look… remember that album that was released in the eighties? “Life’s Hard and Then You Die”? The band was called It’s Immaterial.’
She nodded.
‘That title always resonated with me as a young man, struggling to save money and going through break-ups. Then, as you get older, health issues come into play, bereavements too. Life is hard, but you learn ways to cope. I’d be amazed to meet someone without baggage, without mistakes to their name.
What matters most is taking responsibility for the things you did wrong, being accountable, and then trying to change.
‘That’s what you’re doing and I’m here for it, Eliza Woods. So pass me that laptop. I’ll book a seat on that flight, then we’ll find a hotel.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, and her voice cracked.
‘Hey…’ he said softly, ‘don’t thank me. We’re heading to the Mediterranean – you haven’t seen me in my “Club Tropicana” swimming shorts yet.’