The way back to you, p.24
The Way Back to You, page 24
‘Of course.’
‘Forget the famous landmarks …’
‘I think we cycled in circles round them last time, so it’s OK,’ I smile.
I follow Sylvie off the street into the retro-looking record store. It is a music lover’s heaven. Thousands of records are packed tightly on shelves, divided by red markers. Posters of French and British rock stars alike adorn the walls, The Rolling Stones play over the stereo system, and customers flick through the records at a rapid pace, their fingers trained over years of scouring. It is not just the usual music anoraks browsing though, noticeably there are a group of young, hipster-looking youths, who look way cooler than we were at their age.
‘It’s funny how vinyl has made a comeback,’ I comment.
‘I know, suddenly my sons are interested in my record collection, wanting to borrow them,’ she says, using air quotes to emphasize the word ‘borrow’. ‘Apparently they look good on Instagram!’
‘It’s brilliant to finally see this shop.’
‘Yes, I used to come here and spend all my pocket money. I still remember buying my first record here.’
We walk around the intimate shop, perusing each stack of records.
‘Look what I’ve found. Did you ever get this album in the end?’ Sylvie holds up the black cover of T. Rex’s Bolan’s Zip Gun.
I look at Sylvie, amazed that she remembers.
‘This is the record you were always trying to save up for, wasn’t it?’
‘No … yes,’ I slip over my words, with surprise and excitement. ‘Sorry, yes, you’re right that was the album I was saving up for, and no, I never ended up getting it. Raj taped some of the tracks off the radio for me, but I never bought the record.’
She hands it across to me, our fingers brushing together. The simple touch makes my heart flutter for the first time in years.
I study the back cover, reading the list of tracks, remembering how much I wanted this record. Remembering trying to save up for it for months.
I rub my fingers over its battered corners, and think about the life this record itself must have had since 1975, and how it has ended up here in Bordeaux.
I suddenly hear Sylvie’s voice speaking quickly in French, talking to the man behind the counter.
He nods, and in turn points to the other side of the store.
I flick my head between them, trying to understand what they’re saying.
It’s the first time I’ve heard Sylvie speak in French. Her voice, her tone, different than in English.
‘We can play the record over there if you’d like to listen to it,’ she says to me.
‘Really?’
I nod and smile to the shopkeeper, but he’s already looking down, sifting through a case of newly donated records.
We walk across to where the record player is, and remove The Rolling Stones record which is playing. I carefully take the T. Rex album out of its sleeve and place the needle on the outer edge of the record.
As the opening track, ‘Light of Love’, plays I can’t help but beam, feeling like I’ve been transported back in time.
I look at Sylvie, a woman who I hadn’t met until today, a woman who I haven’t been in touch with for decades, but a woman who I feel I know so well.
‘I’d like to get it for you,’ she says as the first track comes to an end. ‘Seeing as I’ve just learnt you cycled all the way to see me, it’s the least I can do.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. It will make me feel slightly less guilty. And you spent all your pocket money sending me those letters, and probably on your trip, so I’m the reason you never bought it.’
‘That’s very kind of you, thank you. Are you getting anything?’
‘No, my son will only take it for a photoshoot!’
As we head back out into the sunlight together, the record under my arm, it takes my eyes a while to readjust to the light.
‘Is there anywhere else in particular you’d like to see, or are you happy just to keep on strolling?’ Sylvie asks, deciding on which way to turn for the next stop on our overdue Bordeaux tour.
‘Actually, I’d better keep an eye on the clock.’ I look down at my watch, raising my eyebrows as I see the time. ‘I said to Ian that I’d meet him back by the Opera House … well, five minutes ago actually. It’s just our flight –’
‘It’s OK, I understand. Although there are so many other places I’d have liked to have shown you,’ Sylvie says.
We stand there awkwardly, both feeling disappointed. I nod, feeling like I should say something more.
‘I guess I’ll have to come back again sometime,’ I eventually muster, though it’s not the emphatic declaration I meant.
‘Yes, you must. Although please don’t wait so long to come back!’ She smiles. ‘And you know you can fly now, you don’t have to cycle.’
‘Really? I didn’t realize.’ I laugh, as we continue gazing at each other, trying to take in everything in our limited time together.
I wish we had another hour. Even another five minutes.
‘I hope everything with your daughter is OK, and the wedding goes ahead.’
‘Thank you, I’ll let you know … Oh, I nearly forgot,’ I say as I reach into my bag. ‘I brought this for you. Sorry it’s slightly late.’
I hand over a cassette which she looks at, confused, turning it over in her hands.
‘What is this?’
‘The mixtape I owed you, of my favourite songs. Remember? The plan was to deliver it to you in person, but obviously I never got to see you. It’s been in my attic for decades! Now we both have something to listen to.’
Sylvie looks down at my teenage artwork.
‘I don’t know what to say. Thank you,’ she leans across and gives me a prolonged kiss on the cheek, looking rather emotional. ‘This is so lovely.’
She turns the cassette over and starts reading the list of tracks.
‘“You’re My Best Friend” by Queen, “You’re The First, The Last, My Everything” by Barry White, “She” by Charles Aznavour, “Let Me Be The One” …’
‘I don’t think I was being that subtle with my feelings,’ I cut in before she can say anything. I realize I’m blushing as I say this, but maybe she can’t see through my sunburn.
She laughs, then looks up and smiles, her eyes twinkling as they meet mine.
A beeping moped interrupts our moment, forcing me to step out of the road to avoid being run over.
‘OK, I’d better hurry,’ I say reluctantly, wishing that I didn’t need to. ‘It’s just back along that street, right?’
‘Yes, I can walk you back?’
‘Which way were you going?’
‘I’m this way,’ she says pointing in the opposite direction. ‘But I don’t mind.’
‘No, it’s fine, thank you. I can remember.’ I realize we’re as awkward as we would have been had we met all those years ago.
‘So, I guess this is goodbye. Or, au revoir, shall we say.’
Sylvie kisses me on both cheeks, her hair tingling against my skin.
‘Au revoir.’
I turn around and head ruefully in the opposite direction, looking back at her walking into the distance.
57
‘Oh, Dad, look at you,’ Anna exclaims, as she greets us in the airport arrivals hall. ‘Whoever said that exercise was good for you?’
I don’t know if she is more shocked by my sunburn or by my bruises, but she is certainly less subtle than Sylvie.
‘Don’t worry about me, how are you?’ I ask, as she wraps her arms tightly around me. I don’t let on that the embrace is hurting and she holds me for a while.
‘I thought you were meant to be looking after him?’ she teases Ian as she eventually lets go, ignoring my question.
She looks tired, but she is more composed than she was on the phone. Her sore, bloodshot eyes are the only give-away that something is wrong. As she skirts around the issue of the wedding, I decide to wait until we’re in the car, away from prying ears, to discuss it.
‘Come on, let’s get out of here!’ I say, as we head outside to the car park. The French sunshine has been replaced by the wet and windy British weather, and I’m relieved that we don’t have to cycle back to Dorset.
‘I can’t believe you managed to return without either of the bikes, after all that money you spent on them!’ Anna shakes her head as she quickly clears some space for our bags in the boot.
‘Yes, that wasn’t the shrewdest investment,’ I say as Ian indicates for me to take the front seat.
I decide against putting the seat back as I watch Ian awkwardly shuffle across the back seats. He already looks squashed as it is, bending his neck so his head doesn’t touch the roof of the car.
‘So, tell me about your trip?’ Anna asks, as she gets in and starts the ignition, wanting to leave the car park quickly before the fee becomes any more extortionate.
‘It was –’
‘We can talk about the trip later,’ I interrupt Ian before he can get a word out. ‘Let’s talk about you, darling. Tell me everything that’s happened. I couldn’t really hear on the phone.’
‘Erm …’ She subtly nods towards Ian in the back. I realize he is the reason she is avoiding discussing it.
‘Oh, don’t worry about me if you want to have a, you know, father–daughter chat. Just pretend I’m not here,’ Ian says as he looms through the middle seat, doing little to convince either of us of his discretion.
‘OK, thanks,’ Anna says unsurely, as she passes through the ticket barrier and starts driving out of the car park. ‘Well, I feel a bit stupid for making you come back early. I’m sorry that you had to cut your trip short.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I told you I’d happily come back if there was a problem. Obviously you’re always my priority. So what happened? Was it your choice to cancel the wedding? Or Ollie’s?’
Anna looks up, baffled. ‘It’s nothing to do with either of us. It’s the venue who cancelled, they contacted me first thing this morning. Apparently they’d double-booked the date. I honestly don’t know how they managed to do that but they said there was no chance we could get married on that day and they didn’t have another date for a couple of months. And then, talk about everything going wrong at once, the wedding band called up to say the singer is ill with laryngitis.’ She pauses, realizing what I said before. ‘You thought one of us had called off the wedding? Why would you think that?’
‘I don’t know, it’s just when you called, the phone kept cutting out, and I presumed … So you still want to get married?’
‘Of course, Dad. Of course, we want to get married. That’s why I was so upset. I mean we couldn’t help worrying that these were signs or something, that the wedding was jinxed but no, I can’t believe you thought that.’
‘It’s just you’ve not been yourself recently. You’ve both been acting differently around each other. There’s been a lot of tension between you two. I thought maybe that something might have happened.’
She pauses, and I decide to fill the silence.
‘Look, I know I’m not your mum, but we can talk about these things too.’
‘Dad, it’s really not that.’
She stays silent for a few seconds more, as a car overtakes at a reckless pace, sending the puddles splashing into the air.
‘I don’t know how to say this.’
‘You can tell me anything, Anna.’
She looks hesitant, opening her mouth but not speaking.
‘Honestly, there really isn’t anything the matter with me and Ollie. I’d tell you if there was … it’s actually about you.’
‘About me?’
‘No, I don’t mean I have a problem with you. Oh. It’s just Ollie’s been wanting me to tell you something for the last few months. And I haven’t been sure of how to say it, or if it was the right thing to say or do. He just thought you should know, and he knew it was making me stressed, that’s what the tension’s been about, you see.’
‘What did he want you to tell me?’
A series of scenarios rush through my head.
‘OK.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘And, like, it’s not because I didn’t want to tell you, it’s just …’
‘Anna, please just tell me.’
‘So, the last year or so, I’ve been thinking that I’d like to do something more. Like Ollie is doing great at work, and of course, don’t get me wrong, I really love working with you, and I love the B&B, and we have fun, but I’m not sure it’s really, like, what I always wanted to be doing. And I realized it’s been nearly ten years now since Mum …’
I nod along, wondering where this is going.
‘And obviously, I always wanted to be an architect, but I kind of always thought that the time had gone, and it was too late for me. But at the end of last year, I don’t know why, but I thought I’d have a look at universities and courses. And some of them take mature students. Apparently I now count as a mature student, which makes me sound really old …’
I try to interrupt but she continues rambling as she does when she’s nervous.
‘So the thing is I applied.’
‘That’s …’
‘And I got a place.’
‘Where?’
‘New York,’ she says quietly.
‘Well, say something then.’ Anna takes her eyes briefly off the road to look across at me, the windscreen wipers frantically moving back and forth.
I’m silent.
‘Dad, are you crying? This … this is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d be upset.’
I hadn’t cried in years and now it’s becoming an almost daily occurrence.
‘I’m not upset … I’m … I’m so proud of you, Anna. Why on earth would I be upset?’
‘That I’m leaving? That I’m moving to another country? That you’re going to struggle to run the business by yourself?’
‘Don’t get me wrong, obviously I’m upset because I will miss you enormously. But that’s nothing compared to how happy I am for you. I know what this means. You should … you would have gone ten years ago to study.’
I pause to compose myself.
‘I’m incredibly grateful that you’ve given up ten years of your life to stay back and help me. I don’t want to hold you back any more. I don’t want you to put off following your dreams any longer.’
‘Dad, stop. You’re going to make me cry again.’
‘I think I’m going to cry too,’ Ian pokes his head through.
‘I thought you weren’t listening,’ I smile back at him as tears drip down my face.
‘Oh, yes, sorry,’ he ducks back again.
‘I didn’t know how to tell you. I wanted to. I’ve tried to bring it up a few times. I told Ollie I’d tell you when we got together for Eurovision, but then you mentioned your trip, and I didn’t want to tell you before because I thought it might stop you going, or ruin it, or something.’
‘I’m sorry you felt that way. I wish you felt like you could have told me. I want to know all about it.’
‘It’s so good, Dad. It’s Architectural Design at the Parsons School of Design which is one of the best in the world.’
‘The best in the world! That’s amazing. I’ve always said how talented you are. And New York, too – you’re going to have such a fantastic time. Hang on, didn’t we walk past a design school when we went?’
‘Yes, we did, it was the same place. And Mum joked that she was going to go in and tell them they should sign me up there and then.’
‘She always was right.’
‘And even better, they’ve given me a scholarship, too. They really liked my portfolio and my essay. I’ll show you all the stuff when we get back.’
‘Yes, please. I’d love to see it all. What about Ollie, though? What is he going to do?’
‘He’s had his application for a transfer approved. His company has offices in New York too, so that’s all fine.’
‘How exciting for both of you. I really am so happy. Although there is one condition …’
Anna looks across.
‘As long as you come back for Eurovision every year!’
‘Of course, Dad,’ she smiles.
I sit and reflect for a few seconds, trying to process the news, thinking about Anna moving to the US. Thinking about how I feel about her leaving. Thinking about what my dad would have done in this position. Thinking how the last few weeks have changed my outlook. Thinking what it means for me.
It suddenly all clicks.
‘Hang on, is this why you’ve been trying to get me out of the cottage more? All that trying to set me up with online dating?’
She looks rather sheepish.
‘I just didn’t want to leave you on your own.’
‘He’s not on his own. He’s got me now,’ Ian shouts from the back.
‘I thought you weren’t listening,’ I joke again, before smiling at Ian, grateful for the sentiment.
‘Honestly, you mustn’t worry about me. As sweet as it is, I don’t want to stop you, or hold you back. You’ve grown into the most amazing woman. I don’t know what I’d have done without you by my side. But you need to go out there and live your life now.’
‘But what about the cottage? You can’t run it on your own.’
‘Maybe I’ll promote Daisy!’ I joke.
‘Dad, can we be serious for a second?’
‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘It was actually something we were talking about on the trip, something I’ve been thinking about.’
‘The cottage?’
‘Yes. What do you think about us selling the place? I don’t mean selling it tomorrow. Just at some point, if we find the right buyer?’
Anna glances over to me.
‘I didn’t think you wanted to sell it.’
‘I think I was worried that I’d be letting your mum down. That I had to keep it going for her. And I wasn’t sure how you felt about it. I didn’t want to kick you out of your job!’
‘Of course, I know Mum loved the cottage. We all do. But there was so much more in her life than just that – we don’t need to hold on to it forever. We have all the happy memories. They’re not going anywhere.’
‘That’s very true,’ I nod.
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