One day with you, p.17
One Day With You, page 17
Right at that moment, she was going to the reunion, but that might change by the time the bubbles from her Body Shop grapefruit bubble bath popped and disappeared. Val was right when she said that they had to grab on to every chance for happiness. Nancy knew it. But she also knew that she was absolutely terrified of all the potential outcomes the evening could bring. What if Eddie was horrified by the change in the girl he once knew? What if she was horrified by the change in him? What if they just didn’t take to each other? Or, in some ways worse, what if they did? What if Nancy realised the minute she saw him that she should have picked him all those years ago? What if this life she’d lived with Peter, much as she’d loved him, had been a missed opportunity for finding love and fulfilment and, most of all, a family, with the person who’d been destined for her all along?
Bugger, she wasn’t going. Nope, no way.
A bubble popped right in front of her face.
Okay, maybe she would.
That last question still lingered though, and as she closed her eyes and sank back into the warm water, she let the memory of the night she chose Peter play out in her mind.
She’d been sixteen. Weirbridge back then was different from now. Everything was different. Three channels on the TV. None of that technology nonsense, and if she wanted to speak to her pals she went to their houses, because her mother would have a fit if she dared to pick up the hallowed ornament that was only to be used in the case of absolute life-or-death situations. Now they were just called telephones.
On the afternoon of the school leavers’ dance, Nancy was sitting out on the back step when Peter Jenkins from next door came over his fence and plonked himself down next to her. They’d been best pals for years, since they’d got past the stage where she thought all boys were pathetic and he thought football was way more important than girls. Actually, he still thought that, but he wasn’t short of offers to change his mind. Half her pals fancied him rotten and there had been a whole load of teenage girls pitching up to sunbathe in their bikinis in her garden on the three sunny days they’d had that year. In fairness to Peter, he didn’t even seem to notice them. He’d fire back the banter she aimed at him over the fence, but he didn’t pay much heed to the others. That didn’t stop Georgina Brown, who would later marry Colin Walker and become Max Walker’s mother, right enough. Nancy and Georgina had never been particularly close, and that summer she had very real suspicions that Georgina’s regular, uninvited visits to Nancy’s garden had more to do with a fancy for Peter than a budding friendship. She had knockers that could be seen from space and even though she was going out with Peter’s pal, Johnny Roberts, every time Peter appeared in the garden, she’d arch her back so much Nancy was worried she’d do herself a damage.
That afternoon, the skies had been overcast and all her pals were at home getting ready for the dance, so it was just her and Peter.
‘All right?’ His standard greeting.
‘All right,’ her standard reply. ‘Except for the company,’ she’d teased. Again, standard.
They’d chatted about irrelevant stuff for a while before they got round to the biggest event in the Weirbridge teenager’s calendar. ‘You going tonight?’ he’d asked her, picking at a branch he’d rescued from the grass.
If she was being totally objective, which she never was, because to her, he was just a mate, she could see what her pals saw in Peter Jenkins. He was one of the only boys in their year that was already over six feet tall and if that Mick Jagger from the Rolling Stones had ever walked down Weirbridge High Street and donated his hair to the first bloke he saw, it was Peter. That’s where the similarity to the singer stopped, though. Peter had a much more handsome face and green twinkly eyes. His football and his Saturday job helping pack potatoes at his uncle’s farm had given him muscles too and made him much broader across the shoulders than most of the other lads.
In fact, the only one who was even more grown-up looking than Peter was her boyfriend, Eddie Mackie.
They’d been seeing each other for months and she was crazy for him. Besotted. She now understood all that love stuff that David Cassidy and Donny Osmond had been singing about for years. He was absolutely, totally and definitely the love of her life. The first one, and she already knew that he was the only one that there would ever be. He’d asked her out at the village Christmas dance and they’d been going steady ever since.
‘Yep. Got a new frock from Goldbergs. My ma is still raging at how much it cost. Says I’ve to pay it back at a pound a week when I get a job.’
‘Take it you’re going with that arse, Mackie?’
She’d smacked his bare forearm. ‘What have I told you? Don’t be talking about him like that. He’s a good guy.’
‘He’s an arse.’
‘He’s a GOOD GUY!’ she’d raised her voice, not through anger, but just to make her point. This was the way she and Peter communicated. He teased her and she threatened to do him an injury if he didn’t shut his face.
‘Nah. You’d be far better off going with me.’
Shocked, Nancy had raised one eyebrow. ‘Peter Jenkins, are you saying that you want to take me to the dance?’
‘Maybe. But only if it stops you going with that arse. It’s my good deed for the day.’
Nancy had flicked back her long mane of red curls, laughing. ‘Och, be honest. I’m irresistible. We both know it.’
For once, Peter wasn’t laughing with her. ‘Yeah, well, if you change your mind, I’ll be there.’
That afternoon, Nancy hadn’t given his offer a second thought. That was just the kind of banter that they had, and they both knew it meant nothing.
At seven o’clock, after a bollocking from her mother for using her priceless Mary Quant lipstick, Nancy had set off to meet her pals, Val and Shirley, to head to the school hall. There was a whole lot of giggling on the way there because Val was sporting a natty accessory. She’d let her boyfriend, Don Murray, give her a love bite, and she now had to go everywhere wearing a big woolly scarf so her mother didn’t kill her.
‘Totally worth it,’ she’d said, causing another uproarious round of giggles.
When they’d got to the hall, they’d been stunned at the transformation. The school had somehow got hold of fancy lights and the whole room was lit red, with silver streamers on the walls.
The first thing Nancy did was scan the hall for Eddie. Yep, there he was. Over with a big gang of boys in the corner, just as she’d expected. It wasn’t the done thing for couples to actually go to something like this together. Oh no. There was an unspoken format, passed down through the ages of the Scottish history of male/female teenage interactions. The guys all gathered together in the corners or over at the drinks table, while the girls ignored them and danced like they didn’t care who was watching. Then, about halfway through the night, the blokes would gradually seek out their girlfriends, or vice versa, and they’d all pair off, the girls making sure not to leave a single pal alone. It was standard. And that night was no different, except…
When Nancy had exhausted herself dancing her platform boots off to ‘Beg, Steal or Borrow’ by The New Seekers, she’d gone off in search of Eddie Mackie and found him dry-humping Georgina Brown in the cloakroom.
‘Bastard,’ she’d hissed, and they’d at least had the decency to stop, but Nancy didn’t care. She flew out of there, almost knocking over Georgina’s boyfriend, Johnny Roberts, who was coming in the door. She just hoped he saw them and punched Eddie Mackie in the face.
Down the hallway, out the front door and into the street, she ran like she was being chased by something from a horror film. That’s when Peter Jenkins had caught up with her.
‘Nancy!’ he’d yelled, right behind her.
She’d stopped, but mainly because her feet were killing her. If she’d had her running shoes on, she’d have gone for miles.
‘What happened? You went out that door like your arse was on fire.’
For a moment, she didn’t answer, just stood there, arms folded, seething.
He gave her a prompt. ‘Eddie?’
Another pause, then her lid blew off like her mother’s pressure cooker. ‘In the fucking cloakroom. With Georgina fucking Brown.’
He didn’t react, making her narrow her eyes.
‘You knew?’
He’d kicked a stone on the ground before eventually conceding, ‘I’d heard rumours.’
‘So why didn’t you tell me?’ she’d yelled, aware enough to know that she was shouting at the wrong person.
‘Would you have believed me?’ he’d shot back.
‘Aaaargh,’ she’d screamed, before adding a more conciliatory, ‘No.’ That’s when she heard the sound of approaching footsteps and turned to see Eddie Mackie racing towards her.
‘Nancy!’
‘You can get to…’ Peter had spat, but Nancy had cut him off by putting her arm across his chest and nudging him back. ‘I can fight my own battles, Peter Jenkins.’
‘Nancy! Shit, I shouldn’t have smoked those cigs,’ Eddie had gasped, leaning forward and putting his hands on his thighs as he spoke.
To Nancy’s shame, her first thought was that he was so damn handsome, she could barely stand it.
‘Nancy, I’m sorry. It was stupid and I didn’t mean it.’
His words snapped her back to reality and her fury immediately over-ruled her devotion. ‘Didn’t mean to be shoving yer tongue down Georgina Brown’s throat? Did you think it was going somewhere else? Did it get lost?’
He was getting his breath back now. ‘Naw, Nancy, it was just… Look, there’s no excuse. I’m sorry. I made a mistake. But it was just once, and I swear it’ll never happen again.’
Of course, she’d known he was probably lying. She also had a fair idea that it was probably killing Peter Jenkins to keep quiet.
Eddie had held out his hand. ‘Come back with me. You know it’s you I fancy.’
Peter had finally lost the battle of the silence.
‘Don’t do it, Nancy. I told you he was an arse. Come on home with me.’
It was the first time in her life that her feet were stuck to the ground and she honestly didn’t know what to do. Was she really going to ditch Eddie, the boy she was head over heels for? The love of her life? Or was she going to go with Peter Jenkins, who she’d never thought of in that way, but who had asked her out and then come running to see if she was okay?
When she’d finally found her voice, it didn’t even sound like her.
‘I’m going home…’ Eddie’s face fell. ‘On my own…’ Peter’s face fell. ‘Because I don’t need either of you.’
She’d turned and started walking, but she’d only got a few yards away when she’d stopped, turned back to them both. ‘But, Peter, you can come with me if you fancy stopping for some chips on the way.’
And that was it. The moment she chose Peter Jenkins. That night, after a fish supper and a bottle of Vimto shared between them, he’d kissed her and they’d been together until the day he died.
At the time, she didn’t even care that the whole village heard what had happened and were gossiping about it. In fact, it worked out for the best, because her mother felt so sorry for her, she never did make her pay her back for the dress. Although she had to be physically restrained from carrying out her threat to go round to Eddie Mackie’s house and put a bin lid through his window. Maybe Eddie heard about the potential bin danger, because he left town not long after, and Georgina recovered from being dumped by Johnny Roberts by hooking up with some bloke from a nearby town who was two years older and drove a Ford Cortina.
Years later, Nancy and Peter had moved into their first house, and lo and fricking behold, Georgina Brown and her new husband, Colin Walker, had moved in next door. And she was still the same tart that she’d always been. Not that Nancy gave it a second thought. By then, it was all water under the bridge, and when that lovely wee rascal, Max, had come along, Nancy had felt weirdly protective over him. She’d once raked Georgina over the coals when she’d caught her out in the garden, snogging some bloke at their annual Christmas party. That woman had never changed, not even when she had a little one to look after.
But back to Eddie. Over the years, Nancy had occasionally wondered what would have happened if she’d chosen him that night, but there was no changing that.
Until maybe now.
A shiver and skin that was beginning to shrivel like a prune told her it was time to get out of the bath. She was going to the reunion. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. She wasn’t going to let this pass her by and spend more years wondering what if. Eddie had been a silly boy back then, and it was daft to spend a lifetime punishing him for a mistake he’d made when he was sixteen years old. And besides, he’d gone out of his way to fly up to Scotland on his way back to Canada, just to see her tonight. Wouldn’t it be selfish to stand him up when he’d made that kind of effort?
Picking up her phone, she finally replied to Eddie.
Looking forward to seeing you too. Nx.
There. It was done.
Her hair was still sitting lovely from Val’s blow dry earlier, so she just perked it up with a comb and put on some more spray. A bit of mascara and blusher and some lipstick too.
The feather dress was now lying in a heap on her bedroom floor, so she stepped over it and pulled out the frock she’d worn to Val’s son Mark’s wedding. It was a pale blush shift, chiffon sleeves, with a bit of embroidery around the neckline. Beautiful. Understated. Classy. That would do. The feathers could go in the wheelie bin tomorrow morning, and they’d chalk it up to a crime against fashion. And birds.
She pulled on her favourite wrap, a soft cream cashmere shawl that Peter had bought her for Christmas as a special treat the year before he died. It seemed right that she was wearing it tonight. She was taking a bit of him with her. She’d just make sure she hung it up in the cloakroom before she clapped eyes on Eddie in case Peter was watching from the heavens, saw what was going on and spontaneously combusted at the sight of Eddie Mackie.
Out the door, as Nancy headed to the same school hall that she’d gone to all those years before, she called the number that Noah had put into her phone. No answer. Damn. Maybe Tress had had the baby. Maybe Anya or Max had taken a turn for the worse. As she walked, the doubts came rushing back. What was she thinking going to a party when people she cared about were in trouble? She was about to retrace her steps home, change and go straight to the hospital, when her phone rang, a FaceTime call this time. As soon as she answered, she saw Noah and Tress’s smiling faces.
‘Sorry we missed your call there. Another contraction. Oh Nancy, you look so lovely,’ Tress gushed. ‘I was so worried that you wouldn’t go.’
‘I was a bit worried myself.’ Nancy forced herself to sound jovial, although her heart was breaking for that poor girl who didn’t know what was ahead of her. ‘How are you doing, Tress?’
‘I’m okay.’ Nancy saw a flinch of something on her face that suggested she might not be telling the whole truth. ‘Turns out Anya was going to the conference with Max and we think they are now on their way back, but they couldn’t get a direct flight so it’s taking a while. Just hoping he gets here soon. Contractions are coming quicker now, so not sure how much longer I’ve got. I’m fine, though. This lovely man here is taking care of me.’
Nancy could see every worry and ounce of pain in the smile Noah was forcing onto his face.
‘Ouch. Need to go, Nancy,’ Tress squirmed, another contraction coming. ‘Have a great night and we want to hear all about it.’
The screen went black and Nancy shoved her phone in her purse, just as she got to the front door of the school. Both the primary school and the high school were on the same site and shared some facilities, including the dinner hall Nancy had worked in for thirty years. However, she was more used to going in the back door in her comfy shoes and work clothes, so this felt very different.
There was a table at the entrance, where a face she recognised sat handing out glasses of fizzy stuff to everyone who came in.
‘Nancy! Ah, yer looking smashing. Wish I still had hips that size, doll. Fifteen years at the slimming club and I’ve put on four stone.’ Doris from the baker’s on the High Street cackled with hilarity as she handed Nancy a drink.
Laughing, Nancy gave her a quick hug of thanks and moved into the hall.
Her first reaction was a gasp.
Just like fifty years ago, the whole room was lit red. With silver streamers on the wall. And Eddie Mackie was standing in the corner.
As soon as their eyes met, he walked towards her, his gaze never wavering till the moment he was standing right in front of her.
Jesus, he’d barely changed. He was still trim, and somehow he’d managed to hang on to his head of hair, although it was grey now. And he was sporting a deep caramel tan that was a lovely contrast to his white shirt and navy suit.
Nancy could feel the butterflies raging up a storm in her stomach. ‘It’s been a long time, Eddie.’
The first love of her life, the one that she hadn’t clapped eyes on for almost fifty years, held out his hand. ‘It sure has, Nancy.’ He sounded different, with a definite Canadian twang to his words. But he was still the same Eddie, who smiled with pearly white teeth as he added, ‘But, darling, we’re here now.’
24
MAX
How long had there been nothing but silence? Max couldn’t even remember the last thing that he’d heard.
He remembered voices, questions, sounds, crashes, but nothing was in order. Anyway, that was all gone now. Now there was just silence. And memories. Earlier he couldn’t put the pieces together, but now it was all a bit clearer and he remembered. He’d been with Anya. They’d gone to the hotel in Loch Lomond, their special place. They’d been there before. Once with Noah and Tress and then a few times just him and Anya.
Him and Anya.
It still felt strange to think that, because there never really was a him and Anya.
