Being Shirley (10 page)

“You only get one shot at it, this life business,” she whispered to the wan reflection. She knew this better than most. So what was she doing with hers? She had a job she no longer enjoyed thanks to the complete cow she worked for. Her relationship seemed to be on a fast track to absolutely nowhere. And to top it all off, her beloved cat had just died. That book that had been all the rage a few years ago sprang to mind—what was it called? She frowned.
Eat, Pray, Love
—that was the one. She hadn’t read it but she had seen the movie and as she stared into the mirror at a person she did not want to be, she realised that just like Julia Roberts in the movie, she too had just hurtled to a stop in front of the “what’s next” crossroads of life.

In all honesty, she knew she shouldn’t be so shell shocked. This intersection had been heading towards her like the train she’d seen derailed on the news last night for a long time now. Somehow she’d managed to ignore it and keep things on the tracks. Mostly by burying her head in the sand and distracting herself with this farce idea of getting married. Now, though, with Jazz’s passing, everything had finally imploded. She’d hit the wall and it was time she faced up to what it was she was going to do next.

“Do I want to go to Italy and eat pizza like Julia did?” she asked her reflection. She thought that didn’t sound too bad because she was rather partial to a Margherita. Then again, she didn’t fancy having to buy the inevitable big sized jeans that would come with all that pizza snaffling. What about Bali then? She could find someone new to have a torrid fling with. Definitely a better option for her figure but she really wasn’t in the mood to expend all that energy and the way she was feeling had nothing to do with needing to find a new man. She needed to find herself. God, she hated that phrase: it was so self-indulgent but it was also true. So would a meditative retreat in India do the trick then? Annie shuddered. She’d probably get the trots the entire time she was there and from what she’d read about the country’s sanitation in parts, well, that wouldn’t be much fun.
Besides which
, she thought with a rueful glance at her hair,
she’d have a permanent ginger afro, what with the country’s hot and humid conditions.

She did want more than the square she found herself boxed into at the moment, though. Of that much she was certain. Her green eyes moved back to the print. She stared at it for so long that she felt almost hypnotised by the clarity of those white buildings and the seemingly endless blue. It was at that precise moment that Annie felt an all-encompassing urge to watch a movie. Not just any movie; it was one she hadn’t seen in a long, long time. It had been one of Roz’s favourites.

She got up and re-knotted her dressing gown around her waist before she padded through to the living room. The fire had almost gone out; she crouched down to toss a dry bit of kindling on to it and waited for it to reignite. Once she had it blazing, she opened the TV cabinet and scanned the rows of DVDs.
No
, she thought fingering the box set of
Rocky
. She didn’t want to watch those. She’d bought it for Tony; he was a fan and she always knew when he’d been bingeing on the old Stallone boxing classics because he would engage in a lot of air punching with a bandana tied round his head afterwards.
Ah, there it was.
She spotted it next to
Dirty Dancing
and felt a frisson of sadness that Patrick was no longer with them either as she pulled out
Shirley Valentine
.

The movie had been before her time but she could recall Roz watching it and their mother had loved it. Of course, back then it had been on video and now she was glad she’d had the foresight to buy the DVD version in a sentimental moment at the shops. It was the story of the middle-aged Shirley, a repressed housewife who leaves her husband for an impromptu holiday to the Greek islands and then decides to stay. The way Shirley falls in love with both a different life on the island and with herself again had gone over the young Annie’s head. She was surprised Roz at the age she had been had enjoyed the film as much as she had but then the scenery was spectacular and the actress, Pauline Collins, played her part wonderfully. She blew the dust off the cover and then slid the disc into the machine. She settled herself under the blanket on the couch and pushed play.

Once it had finished, Annie sat in the ever darkening room and thought about the underlying story and how brave Shirley had been. She had thrown caution to the wind and found happiness—and not thanks to a man, either. Oh, sure there was the scene with Tom Conti on the boat where he woos her with his bad English but that had more to do with Shirley experiencing life firsthand again than her wanting a romance.

Outside, the familiar jingle of Mr Whippy’s ice-cream truck sounded.
It was awfully cold for ice-cream
, she thought but then raised a rueful smile.
When as a child had she ever thought it was too cold for ice-cream?
If the van was parked out on the street now, it must mean it was after three o’clock and the children were home from school. It was funny how certain sounds could instantly transport you back in time. She remembered how her dad had headed to the front gate many years ago, intent upon getting her a treat that hot summer’s afternoon only to find that the van had moved on. He had been almost manic in his need to find Mr Whippy, as though by doing so he would somehow fix things. All but shouting at Annie to get in the car, they’d driven off in search of the white ice-cream truck. They never did find it. The bells always sounded somewhere in the distance. It had been like one of those dreams where you fell but never quite got to the bottom. In the end, he had taken her to the corner dairy and she had been allowed to choose an expensive ice-cream—any sort she wanted. That had been a treat indeed. As she raised a smile at the memory, Annie noticed a warm sensation tickle the tips of her toes, as though she had just waved them in front of a fire. She pulled her sock-clad feet out from under the blanket and stared at them, bewildered.

They definitely felt warm. She wriggled them and the perception of heat slowly spread farther up her foot, past her ankle and moved up into her calves. Her thighs, splayed on the couch, felt the warmth next and then it continued to progress steadily into her stomach and filled it like a hot air balloon. Up, up it seeped into her chest, her neck. A flush crept over her face and as the heat reached the top of her head, her scalp tingled. It was as though she’d been standing outside in the snow before coming inside and plunging herself straight into a hot bath. The strange warmth brought with it a sense of calm. Annie’s breath slowed as she sat immobilised on the couch.

“Is that you, Roz?” She didn’t know why she asked because she already knew the answer and she didn’t expect a reply. She got none either, apart from the hiss of spitting wood in the fire. The warmth intensified, though, to the point that had she been in her late forties, she would be fairly certain she was experiencing her first hot flush. Once more, Annie was filled with an overpowering urge and so following what her mind screamed at her to do, she hauled herself off the couch and found herself back in her bedroom. Her eyes fixed once more on the print of Santorini as understanding dawned as to why Roz had come to her now after all this time when she had needed her so often in the past. She was finally doing what a big sister should do. She was steering her in the right direction, to show her the right path to take. Annie knew exactly what she had to do.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” she said to the empty room. “For me and for you and for Shirley bloody Valentine, I’ll do it.”

The afternoon of her epiphany, as Annie had come to think of what she was convinced had been a visit from Roz, she had thrown on her clothes, snatched up her car keys and headed straight down to her local travel agent, oblivious of the fact she had mismatched shoes on.

As she sat down in the window seat of Flights R Us, she looked out to the busy street to see a wild woman stared back at her from the reflection in the glass. Car lights sluiced their way forward as they crawled along through the puddles on the road outside. It really was a miserable day. She turned back; the pasty, stick-thin couple booking a holiday to Samoa were still deep in conversation with the only agent at her desk. It must be afternoon teatime. She couldn’t blame the couple for wanting to escape to sunnier climes; she just wished they would get a bloody move on. Eyeing them, she wondered whether with Air Samoa’s new weight policies they might actually garner some cash back on their tickets. Either way, they didn’t look like they’d be vacating their seats in the next few minutes so with a sigh she dug her phone out of her bag. She was bursting with the need to confide her crazy plan to Carl.

He sounded a long way away as he answered and informed her that the weather was diabolical and that he had pulled the pin on the shoot. Why the powers that be would organise a bikini shoot at the beach in Canterbury at this time of the year was beyond him, he muttered. “Honestly, sweets, Sabine looks like an underfed turkey with all those goosebumps, which is not a good look when you are trying to sell swimwear and not cranberry sauce.” She heard his car door slam. “Phew, that’s better. Hang on a sec—just let me put the heater on.”

After a load of background rustling, he came back on the line. “Right—all sorted. I’m all yours. Now then, have you rung to tell me you are ensconced on the couch in front of the tele with a half-eaten box of chocolates on your lap like I prescribed?”

“Um, no, not exactly. Actually, Carl, I’m at the travel agent’s.”

As she relayed her plans, his voice shrieked down the phone, “Okay, stop right there!”

Even Mr and Mrs We’d Like to go to Samoa Please turned round to see what the squawking was about. She held the phone away from her ear and shot them an apologetic grin. She listened while he ordered her to leave the shop and head across the road to Coffee Culture immediately.

“Give me fifteen minutes, Annie, and don’t you dare do anything until I get there!”

Fully expecting him to try to talk her out of what she planned, she’d nevertheless done as he had bidden: she slung her bag across her shoulder and told the perplexed travel agent she’d be back shortly. She ducked her head down to brave the weather and made her way the short distance across the road to where the coffee shop stood out like a lighthouse beacon on a stormy day.

Annie ordered her drink, picked up a magazine to read while she waited, and slid into a booth seat. She didn’t want to think about all the things Carl was going to come up with in order to talk her out of what she was determined to do. No, she decided she would deal with it when he arrived. She flipped open the magazine to lose herself in the latest celebrity misdeeds instead.

“Right, now, my sweet, what on earth is going on and what is all this poppycock about you going to Greece?”

Annie looked up, startled, from the article about Miranda Kerr’s post baby bikini body—honestly, the woman would make you sick—as Carl placed his order marker down on the table with a bang. She watched warily as he shrugged out of his coat, flopped down opposite her and ran his fingers through his fringe in that oh-so familiar mannerism of his. It swished back artfully and she wondered why his hair never misbehaved in wet weather. She didn’t wonder for long because it was straight down to business as he stared hard across the table at her, one arched brow as he waited for an explanation as to why he would never find out what had happened today on
Under the Big Sky
.

Unable to meet his gaze, Annie fiddled with a sugar sachet as she explained the best she could as to what had transpired that afternoon. She knew she sounded deranged.

“Honestly, Carl, it was so strange. This warmth—I’ve never felt anything like it before. Roz was there with me, I’m sure of it. It was like the fogginess around everything I have been doing lately cleared because all of a sudden I knew exactly what it is I am supposed to do next and it doesn’t involve splurging on a designer wedding dress.” She noticed Carl’s sceptical look and looked away quickly. She couldn’t blame him; she did sound potty. “Oh, I know what this must sound like but that’s the only way I can describe what happened.” She shrugged and, with a sip of her coffee, waited to hear what he would have to say. Plenty, she was sure.

To her bemusement, he slowly stirred his latte, deep in thought. He picked up the chocolate-coated coffee bean on the side of the saucer, popped it into his mouth and chewed for a moment. “First off, let me just say thank goodness you have seen the light regarding getting married.”

Annie pulled a face at him but he was too busy trying to make sense of what she had just told him to register it.

“Next, I want to get this straight in mind. So there you are, sitting on your bed, grief stricken after losing your beloved cat, when suddenly you get this overwhelming urge to watch
Shirley Valentine
. A great movie, I’ll concede; Pauline Collins is superb and the end bit where she gets her table moved to the water’s edge so she can enjoy her wine while the sun sets should make movie history.”

Annie nodded her agreement. It was both an empowering and poignant moment in the film and she’d read somewhere that the beach on the island of Mykonos where the scene was filmed was now referred to as the Shirley Valentine beach. Carl bought her back from Mykonos to Coffee Culture as he carried on intoning.

“After which, you receive a celestial visit from Roz, who guides you back to your room, whereupon you find yourself gazing at the print of Santorini, and filled with a conviction that you need to go to Greece?”

“Yes, Your Honour, that’s what happened.”

“Right so, on that basis, you get yourself dressed—and what is with the blue sneaker and the white Skecher, by the way? You then drove down to Flight’s R Us, where you planned on booking yourself a one-way ticket to Athens without consulting your best friend, fiancé, or family. Have I got that right?”

Annie looked up from where she stared at her mismatched shoes in bewilderment.
She really had been running on autopilot.
Then, feeling as if she had just taken the witness stand, she returned his gaze steadily. She was determined to make herself heard loud and clear. “Like I said, I know it sounds mad but yes, that is what happened and yes, that is what I am going to do as soon as we have finished our coffees. You know I love you but please don’t waste your breath trying to talk me out of going because I have made up my mind.”

“Alright then.” Carl sat back in his seat. “What about Tony? I take it you haven’t had time to talk to him yet?”

Annie wriggled in her seat uncomfortably at the mention of Tony. “I’ll tell him what I’m doing as soon as he gets in from work tonight and then I’ll head over to Mum and Dad’s for the night to let him digest it.”

Carl shook his head. “Don’t be silly. Come and stay at mine because I can guarantee your folks will need time to digest this crazy plan of yours, too. And it is crazy, you know that, Annie, because it was only a week or so ago that you were squeezing yourself into a wedding dress.”

“I didn’t have to squeeze, thank you very much, and what was it you said to me that night about Tony?”

“Since when did you actually listen to what I say?” Carl shot back.

Annie poked her tongue out at him. “As hard as it is for me to say this, I think you may have been right. The kayaking, the bunny outfit—they were all sticky plasters I was applying to try to cover up that we weren’t all that happy.” She rearranged the sachets of sweetener before she added, “As for suddenly wanting to set a date, I think I might have been using the idea of getting married as a way of distracting myself from what was really wrong.”

“Yes, well, I suppose I can see how a nice big diamond ring and a Julianne Tigre wedding dress might provide you with a happy distraction in the short term.” His eyes rested on Annie’s hand, where her ring sparkled defiantly. “You’ll have to give that back, you know.”

“I know and it’s fine—it will all be fine.” At that moment, as she watched the young waitress scurry past and balance empty cups and saucers, Annie wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince: herself or Carl.

“Honestly, sweetheart, I can’t quite believe that you’ve just told me that you are leaving Tony and well—” He gave a shoulder padded shrug. “Everything, really—your friends, your family, your job—to flee to Greece. Why?”

Annie reached across the table and rested her hand on top of Carl’s. “I told you why and it’s been coming for a while now. I’ve been ignoring my unhappiness because to change things would be hard. I didn’t have the energy for hard and I was scared.”

“What and now suddenly you’re not and you’re fizzing like you have overdosed on a can of V?”

“Yeah, kind of, except you know I don’t do energy drinks. Tony and I have been drifting in different directions for a while now and with all the crap at work—well, it’s been weighing me down. Now that I have made the decision to do something about it all, it’s like this ginormous weight has suddenly lifted and I feel all sort of bubbly—almost buoyant.” Annie gave him a little half smile.

“Are you sure that’s not just wind? And we’d all feel light and free if we decided to cast off our responsibilities and just bugger off but my lovely girl, sadly, real life comes with a duty to others.”

“That’s not fair because I’m not being selfish, Carl.” She caught his raised brow. “No, I’m not! If I stayed with Tony for the sake of it being the easier path to take, then that would be selfish. I’m giving him a way out because he doesn’t want to marry me either.”

“I’m not suggesting you stay with Tony. Break it off by all means but why the midnight run? I hope it’s not down to what’s happened to Jasper because you know I read somewhere that you shouldn’t do anything rash when you’re in the grieving process.”

“This is something I would have come round to doing eventually, anyway. Jazz’s death probably just brought it all to the fore a bit sooner, that’s all. It’s something I have to do.” She softened her tone. “Can you understand?”

“No.”

Annie drained her coffee. It was nearly cold and this time Carl twiddled with the little packets of sugar before he muttered, “Well, go easy on the poor sod, alright? Because he won’t see this coming.”

“Of course I will. Anyway, I don’t think my leaving is what’s really going to upset him. Nope, once he gets over the initial shock, it will be the handing over of my half of our house deposit he’ll really struggle with.”

A flicker of amusement crossed Carl’s face. “Ah, so that’s what’s going to fund this mad jaunt of yours?”

“Yes and it’s not a mad jaunt; it is an adventure. An exciting and long overdue adventure of throwing caution to the wind. Think of it, Carl! I’m going to sit on the stone steps of the Herodes Atticus Theatre and listen to ‘Aria’ on my iPod and I am going to wander the ruins of the Acropolis. I’m going to watch the sunset in Santorini. I’m going to—”

“What about your job?” Carl interrupted her reverie.

Annie crashed back down to earth. “Huh? What about it? It’s not as though I am resigning from my dream job, so no, that will be one bridge I’ll enjoy crossing. I can’t wait to see the look on Attila’s face when I tell her to stick her job where the sun don’t shine.”

Carl pursed his lips as he fished round for reasons. “Okay then, Kassia. What do you think she will make of you coming to Greece out of the blue like this? It’s one thing being friends with someone via letters and email for all these years but to land on her doorstep?”

Annie’s stomach did a flip-flop. She was scared as to how this trip was going to pan out but she bit her lip and injected bravado into her voice. “I hope she will be as excited at the thought of finally meeting face to face as I am and if things don’t work out the way I am sure they will, well then I’ll move on. I’ll pick up casual work and island hop.”
Island hop—yes, that’s what she would do
. Annie liked the phrase and she rolled it around silently in her head a couple of times for good measure before she picked up her teaspoon and scraped the froth from the sides of her cup. Satisfied she’d gotten as much of it as she could, she put the cup back in its saucer and slid along the booth seat before she got to her feet. She gave her footwear another doleful glance before she turned her attention back to Carl. “I’d really like you to support me on this because I’m going to need you.”

Carl stood and looked at her for a moment before he picked up his coat and shrugged back into it. “Yes, you are going to need me, and I’m glad because I’m going to come too.”

“What?” If she’d been holding something, Annie would have dropped it as her hand shot out to grab the table for support.

A pleased with himself smile played at the corner of Carl’s mouth. “See? You’re not the only one who can drop bombshells. And do you really think I’d let you trot off and have the trip of a lifetime without me?”