If You're Not the One (8 page)

Jennifer wasn't really listening. She was too intent on getting at the sliced white which she had confidence would restore her sugar levels and hopefully make her feel less pissed. She had planned on toasting it but in the end was so desperate for some starchy carbohydrate, she just ripped a slice in two and shoved one of the halves into her mouth plain.

As she chewed, it stuck to the roof of her mouth.

‘Don't ever let anyone tell you you're not completely classy,' joked Tim. ‘Third class that is.'

‘Come on, let's go and have a drink then,' she said, mouth full.

‘Yes,' said Tim. ‘Because you look like you definitely need one.'

Jennifer tried hard to think of a witty riposte but it was too much effort so she gave up and staggered towards the door instead.

Tim followed her but seemingly Sean couldn't be torn away from his computer for neither love, money nor vodka.

In the lounge Karen was reclining on the main sofa which was so threadbare and ancient it had pretty much collapsed in on itself a long time ago. Lying on it felt a lot like you were lying on the floor. She was doing some impressive recreational multi-tasking by building a spliff, keeping one eye on the telly and listening to music. ‘Don't Speak' by No Doubt was blasting.

‘Evening, Karen,' said Tim, in a tone that suggested he was up for a bit of a wind-up session.

Jennifer sighed inwardly as she realised she'd now be in charge of keeping the peace.

‘Right…booze,' she said. ‘Shall I make us all a vodka?'

‘Yeah,' said Karen. ‘Where's the bag, we didn't leave it did we?'

‘No, it's here by your feet,' said Jennifer, extracting the plastic bag which had a half bottle of vodka and some orange juice in it from where it was wedged down the back of the sofa.

Of course it went without saying that there were no clean glasses or mugs to be found in the kitchen so she
went downstairs to her room to fetch some paper cups which she'd purchased only the other week precisely for times like this.

Due to being so utterly rat-arsed, the effort of now having charged downstairs at high speed left her swaying in the middle of the room for a few seconds while trying to remember what she'd come down for. Her mind had gone completely blank and she could hardly keep her eyes open. Finally it came back to her. Cups. Paper cups. Now she felt smug. Well done her. She was conscious of getting back to the lounge quickly though, so as soon as she'd retrieved them she raced back, leaving her door wide open in her haste. It wouldn't do to leave Tim and Karen alone for too long. They'd only end up sniping at each other.

It was too late though. As she approached the lounge her heart sank.

‘But wanting to know what people “do” is just blatant snobbery isn't it?' Karen was arguing, albeit from a lying down position which put Tim, who was sitting upright, at an immediate advantage.

‘Oh fuck off Karen, you should hear yourself. What's snobby about being curious? About being interested?'

‘Because you're suggesting that what we “do” defines us, like some middle-aged fart at a drinks party saying “And what do you do?” she said, in a voice like Maggie Thatcher.

‘Here are your drinks,' said Jennifer brusquely, splashing
liquid into the paper cups until they were pretty much two parts vodka one part juice.

Tim took his and slugged it back. As he did he winced. ‘Oof that's strong?'

‘Poof,' said Karen unnecessarily, downing hers in one and instantly looking like she deeply regretted it.

‘Anyhow,' said Tim, ‘the point is, Karen, that if you think reUNIon is such a shit idea you won't go on it, that is entirely your prerogative. And yet I'd bet good money that in five years' time, if you got an email telling you that Ed Fisher wanted to find out what you were up to, and not only that, that he'd predicted what he thought you were up to, you'd be intrigued. Don't try and tell me you wouldn't have a look at that point.'

This was a bit below the belt. Ed Fisher had been, up until five weeks ago, Karen's boyfriend. Then he'd dumped her, cruelly, by text, telling her it was because he didn't really fancy her and saw her more as a friend. She'd cried pretty much for a week.

‘If that arsehole got in touch with me in five years' time I'd be fucking livid,' she yelled.

Jennifer slugged back her drink nervously. ‘You two,' she interjected. ‘Can we talk about something else for once?'

‘Like what?' said Tim sarcastically. ‘What do you want to enlighten us with, my angel?'

Jennifer gulped and as she did so she became aware of a horrid metallic taste in her mouth. This was swiftly
followed by an ominous lurching sensation in her stomach. Horrified, she brought her hand up to her mouth.

‘You OK?' said Karen.

‘Gonna puke,' Jennifer just about managed, racing from the room as the cocktails she'd drunk earlier made an unscheduled reappearance.

‘I am one hell of a lucky guy,' said Tim.

‘Yes you are actually,' replied Karen loftily, though the sound of Jennifer puking violently into the kitchen sink wasn't really helping her case.

‘What's happening, Doctor?' asked Max, the scraping sound of the plastic chair against the floor indicating he'd leapt to his feet the second the doctor had appeared through the door.

‘Well, we're encouraged that she's made it through surgery. At one point we were extremely concerned about the build-up of blood around the skull but it appears to have eased off. Having said that, she's not completely out of the woods yet, although her vital signs have stabilised.'

A pause.

‘Perhaps we should continue speaking in the corridor, Mr Wright.'

Good, thought Jennifer. She needed quiet and wanted to be left alone. In sterile silence. Once more she felt herself slipping a little further back towards oblivion, only as she did so she was suddenly hooked violently back to reality again for the second time that day. As though a giant fist
had gripped her purposefully, purely so she could address a thought which had been loitering on the periphery of her consciousness, tapping her brain, desperate for her attention.

Polly and Eadie
. As maternal instinct took over and penetrated everything, her daughters were flung into sharp reality. Her babies, her girls. The stab of emotion she encountered in that moment as she thought of them was gut wrenching, panic inducing. She didn't know if they were OK and during this rare moment of lucidity she fully understood that she was powerless to find out. She couldn't be like this. They needed her. What was happening? She felt like a prisoner in her own body, helpless, petrified. If Max was here, wherever ‘here' was, then who was looking after them? Her mum? Karen? But as quickly as panic and fear welled up, it subsided again as confusion swamped her once more.

She battled in vain to stay attached to the awareness of her daughters, but it proved too difficult. As quickly as their images had formed, they slipped away again, until within seconds she couldn't remember anything. Instead, all that remained was the overriding sense that she was detached from whatever was happening, and that she was being encouraged to drift further and further from it. Perhaps she should? At first she'd been pleased to emerge from the fog but it was enticing her back again. And so she succumbed once more to the new murky world she now existed in. Furthermore, as Jennifer drifted away she let
the falling sensation overwhelm her again, this time confident of what to expect. There they were, the tunnels of light, and for the second time she was carried towards the still open portal on the left.

What Could Have Been—Aidan

Gasping, Jennifer jabbed Aidan in the ribs, signalling for him to roll off so she could lie back and enjoy that brief period of utter contentment which follows an epic orgasm.

‘Wow.'

‘Hmm,' agreed Aidan, reaching over for his rolling tobacco. She surveyed his back. Since he'd hurt his ankle he'd not been able to go swimming or running and he'd piled on the pounds.

He still had a lovely broad body though; even if it was remarkably pasty and carrying a lot more fat than it had done. Still, his physique would always err on the side of good for his frame was masculine, tall and well proportioned. She surveyed the tattoo which spanned the width of his lower back. It was bizarre to think he'd had it done sixteen years ago, six months after they'd arrived in Australia. Sun-drenched, heady, exciting days when it had still seemed like anything was possible. It was a Celtic
pattern with a large sun in the middle and recently Jennifer had started to hate the very sight of it. It represented the elusive sunshine which Aidan had spent ever since hankering after, chasing, but which somehow always remained just out of their reach. Just then, the strong, very wet Carlisle rain started hammering against the window panes as if to illustrate her point.

‘Typical,' muttered Aidan.

‘Why, what are you up to? Are you going to fetch that paint for Nathan's room?' asked Jennifer hopefully.

‘No, I'm supposed to be signing on at three and I'm probably not going to have time to do that and get the paint am I?'

‘Guess not,' said Jennifer flatly, hoping he wasn't trying to wriggle out of it. The feeling of peace she'd had from their physical exertions was short-lived as ever. She'd finished work very late last night, was exhausted and, frankly, picking up the paint was the least he could do. She had absolutely no idea why he couldn't get round to it. It was as if he was deliberately not doing it to spite her. She was almost tempted to get the bus and collect it herself. That way they could make a start on Nathan's room like they'd been promising him they would since his birthday. Only, Aidan collecting the paint had become a point of principle.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, as she'd been taught to in yoga class, desperate to remain in a good frame of mind a while longer.

Aidan sucked deeply on his skinny cigarette.

‘Did Olly say if he had any more decorating work?' she said, knowing he'd hate her asking but unable to help herself.

‘He didn't,' he replied tersely.

‘All right, I'm only asking,' said Jennifer, getting up abruptly, knowing her mission to remain Zen was futile, so infused with intense frustration was she. She grabbed her old, tatty dressing gown from the hook on the back of the door and wrapped it around her thin body. Between working in the restaurant, Aidan's insatiable sexual appetite and the stress of never having enough money, keeping the pounds off wasn't something she'd ever had to worry about.

‘Well don't. You know I'll tell you when he's got something. Why would I not?'

Jennifer didn't reply. There was no point. There'd only be a row and she could do without one on her only day off. Instead she left the bedroom and went into the tiny kitchen to make a cup of tea.

‘Do you want a brew?' she called, biting her lip in an attempt to quell the angry tears which were suddenly threatening to spill down her cheeks.

‘Go on then,' called Aidan. ‘Seeing as I've got to go out in this rain I may as well.'

As Jennifer waited for the kettle to boil, she wished Aidan would go. Apart from anything else her new book on reflexology had arrived and she wanted to start reading
it in peace. She was seriously considering applying to do a course. Emma, a friend of hers from yoga, who was already a qualified practitioner, had told her a lot about it. The subject completely fascinated her. Becoming a certified reflexologist would not only provide a way to earn some more money but she suspected would also be something she'd actually enjoy.

If only Aidan would find something to get enthused about. It would make life a lot easier. She was unable to prevent one solitary tear from rolling down her cheek and onto the laminate worktop which due to how old it was never looked totally clean no matter how much she scrubbed it. She wiped the tear away impatiently, bored of feeling down. Bored of feeling bored.

She glanced at the cork notice-board which was covered in bills, all of which needed paying, takeaway menus, letters from Nath's school and, in the middle, a photograph. A tatty, dog-eared photo of her mum and dad, whom she hadn't seen for eighteen long years now. For what felt like the thousandth time her hand went to her dressing gown pocket to feel the letter she'd received from her mother only a week ago. It had come to her work address and she knew it pretty much off by heart.

Her mum wanted to see her. Her dad still hadn't come round but her mum had decided it was finally time to let bygones be bygones. The only decision that needed to be made was where and when. Possibly the most surprising thing of all to Jennifer was that, rather than questioning
the decision to contact her mother in order to hold out an olive branch, all She found herself debating was why she'd left it this long.

As she was stirring the teas Aidan appeared behind her and wrapped his arms around her.

‘All right, gorgeous?'

‘Yeah,' she said miserably, feeling anything but.

‘You just rest up while I go out. Put your feet up,' he said, as if he was bestowing some massive favour upon her.

Too right she'd be putting her feet up. She had a double shift tomorrow, and one the day after that and besides, ‘putting his feet up' was all Aidan seemed capable of doing these days, so why shouldn't she?

‘Even go back to bed. I know you've been dying to start reading that book. Then maybe me, you and Nath can have something from the chippy tonight?'

‘All right,' she agreed, slightly mollified. ‘Sounds good.'

‘Eh, what's up?' he said, spinning her round to face him. ‘If you're still worried about my mobile bill don't be. Worst comes to the worse I'll get my old “pay as you go” out but knowing you you'll rake the tips in tomorrow. I know my girl and not only are you my sexy little minx, you're a bloody good little waitress too.'

In that instant Jennifer figured she should just tell him. After all, given everything she'd given up for him over the years, friends, family, an education, prospects, surely
he wouldn't begrudge her the chance to rekindle relationships which had been put on hold for long enough now? There wasn't so much water under the bridge as opposed to an entire river.

‘Mum wrote to me,' she said calmly, deciding to omit the fact that she'd been the one to get in contact first.

Aidan's face froze.

‘She wants to see me and I think I'm going to go.'

‘Why?' he said, looking totally flummoxed.

‘Honestly? You need to ask why?'

‘Of course I need to ask why,' he exclaimed, looking thunderous. ‘After all these years of them being sanctimonious, judgemental arseholes, I hardly think I'm weird for thinking you should give them a wide berth. They treated you like shit.'

Jennifer shook her head. ‘No. That's the thing. I don't think they did. Not really,' she said. ‘In fact, the older I get the more I think I treated
them
like shit. I'm the one who disappeared off to the other side of the world. I'm the one who gave up going to university so I could disappear to Australia with a bloke they'd never even met. And I'm also the one who then had to break it to them that that particular pipe dream had been ruined due to you getting caught with drugs. I happen to think
most
parents would take a pretty dim view of that.'

‘This again,' cried Aidan, outraged. ‘Are you ever going to get over it? It's not like I was dealing heroin or anything. A bit of pot it was. Where's the harm in that? I
was bloody unlucky to get caught but I was hardly ruining lives.'

‘Except you were,' Jennifer muttered, feeling on the brink of a very dangerous conversation.

‘What's that supposed to mean?' he said, his face stony.

‘Nothing,' she said rolling her eyes in frustration ‘It's just that…well, you have to remember that the whole point of me not going home was because we decided we wanted to live in the sunshine, to build a life in Oz, in the sunshine. Only it didn't quite work out like that did it?'

‘No, it didn't Jen, but then you forgetting to take your pill was hardly the plan either was it?'

Jennifer shrugged. The memory of finding out that on top of everything else she was pregnant at the age of twenty-two was still more bitter than sweet.

‘But I stood by you,' retorted Aidan, indignant and hurt. ‘I stood by you when thousands of blokes might have left you to it, or forced you to have an abortion. I was a free spirit remember? Having a wife and kid wasn't exactly part of my master plan either but I'm glad we did it. I wouldn't be without Nath, would you?'

‘Of course not,' said Jennifer sincerely. ‘Of course I wouldn't be, but I'm not so sure I should have had to go without having my mum and dad in my life for all this time either. And…perhaps if I'd been less chippy with them, maybe even a bit apologetic about how things had turned out I wouldn't have had to be.'

Finally she met his gaze. He looked defensive and
huffy, knowing full well that her words were an accusation aimed firmly at him for he'd always encouraged her to be on the offensive with her parents.

‘Look at us,' she said, gesturing around the small kitchen and flat. ‘I'm thirty bloody eight, Aidan. Thirty-eight and living in a shithole. I work every hour god sends in a stinking restaurant which I'm starting to hate and for what? I've got no real friends here apart from Emma and she's flaky at the best of times, no family, except you and Nath of course, and I spend most of the time feeling…'

‘Feeling what?' he said stonily.

‘Feeling…a bit…embarrassed about how things have turned out,' she admitted quietly, knowing that although it was a terrible thing to say it was also unutterably true.

‘Well, screw you,' Aidan said and, as he did, the lurch in Jennifer's stomach told her she may have said too much. There were some things you couldn't take back and as much as she resented him he was still her man and for all their problems he still held her tight, each and every night, which did much to soothe her troubled head. They were still intimate all the time and although things had hardly turned out like they did in the movies, their physical bond, the child they shared and the years they'd been together, were a pretty efficient type of glue.

‘I'm sorry,' she called after him.

‘Whatever Jennifer, I don't want to hear it,' he said, going into the hall and pulling on his Doc Marten boots
before storming out, presumably (hopefully) to go and sign on.

Jennifer flinched as the door slammed. She stood still for a while, soaking up the silence and wondering what to do. Eventually she decided upon nothing. He'd be back later and they could talk then. In the meantime she'd got a few things off her chest which might be healthy and she was still determined to meet with her mother. No matter what he said. So nothing had changed.