Never Say Goodbye (10 page)

It was much later in the day, after they’d all dozed in front of the TV and indulged in a mince pie or two, that Nick and Kristina finally began packing the children and their belongings into the car. This was the moment Bel had been dreading. The house was going to feel unbearably empty without them; she could already sense herself wandering around it like a ghost, not sure what to do next. She knew she ought to make more of an effort to be in touch with her old crowd in London, but for some reason she hadn’t been able to face them since losing Talia. In fact, she’d hardly seen them since moving to Kesterly, mainly because she’d been so busy doing up this place, and then taking care of Talia and the children. Had she been a better correspondent it might have helped, but she wasn’t, and since her old friends had their own paths to travel, life had moved on for them all.

‘So what are the plans for Christmas Day?’ she asked, as Nick slammed closed the boot of his BMW estate. ‘Shall I bring everything on Christmas Eve, as usual?’ she added quietly, so the children wouldn’t hear.

Nick glanced at Kristina, but she looked away, leaving him to slip an arm round Bel’s shoulders and walk her back to the house. ‘The thing is,’ he said, his breath clouding the air as they went, ‘Kristina’s parents are keen for us to go to their place, in Cheshire, and with this being our first Christmas together, and as a married couple . . .’ He broke off awkwardly. I’m sure you get where I’m going with this.’

Yes, she did, only too well, and she was so shocked, devastated even, that she simply didn’t know what to say. What a fool she was. Why hadn’t she seen this coming?

‘We’re planning to leave on Christmas Eve afternoon,’ he continued, ‘so it depends on you, whether you want to bring the kids’ presents before that, or have a belated Christmas with them after we get back.’

She didn’t know what to say.

‘I’m sorry to spring it on you like this,’ he said in the end, clearly feeling more uncomfortable by the second. ‘I guess you could always come with us . . .’

‘No, no, it’s fine,’ she cut in quickly, hating the idea almost as much as him feeling sorry for her. ‘It’s right that you should spend the time with Kristina’s family. They’ll want to see you, and the children. After all, they’re kind of their grandchildren now.’

He grimaced. ‘Yes, I guess they are,’ he agreed, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. Still not quite meeting Bel’s eyes, he said, ‘We’ll Skype, obviously, and I’m sure the children will ring several times a day. You know what they’re like.’

Unable to push any words past the lump in her throat, Bel forced a smile as she nodded.

‘So what will you do while we’re away?’ he asked in a tone that made her wonder how keen he was to go. It would be the first Christmas they’d spent apart in over ten years, though not the first without Talia.

Though she attempted an airy laugh, it sounded ludicrously more like a sob. ‘Me? Oh, I’ll either invite a few friends down from London, or perhaps I’ll go there. I haven’t been for ages and it’s a good time to take in galleries and shows.’

‘That sounds like a plan,’ he commented approvingly. ‘It’ll do you good to have a change of scenery for a while.’

And you’d feel a hundred times better if I did, because it would help get me off your conscience.
‘I’ll bring the children’s presents after they’ve gone to bed tomorrow night,’ she told him. ‘That way you can take them to Cheshire with you. They’ll really believe in Santa then, if they find them under their new grandparents’ tree on Christmas morning.’

His eyes were searching her face. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather do a belated . . .’

‘No, I think it’s important for them to have their presents on the day,’ she interrupted. ‘I’ll organise a lunch or something for when you get back. Will you stay in Cheshire until New Year?’

‘I’m not sure yet,’ he replied. ‘We’ll see how well it goes, given they’re not used to having children around, and Oscar and Nell don’t really know them yet. They’ll miss you, of course.’

Bel tried to smile, but it wasn’t easy. Did he even begin to realise how much she was going to miss them? ‘They’ll be fine,’ she assured him.
It’s their mother they really miss,
she wanted to remind him,
and right now I’m the next best thing.
Of course she’d never say it, she didn’t even like thinking it, and really shouldn’t when that role belonged to Kristina now.

Pulling her to him, he said, ‘I still miss her too.’

She wanted to push him away, but couldn’t or he’d see how close she was to tears.

‘I’ll always be there for you,’ he said, and pressing a kiss to her forehead he left.

Though Bel knew that waking up alone on Christmas morning wasn’t going to be the worst experience she’d ever had, she was aware that it could easily rate up there amongst them if she allowed it to. Which was why, in an effort to rescue herself from an ocean of loneliness and self-pity, she decided to step into Talia’s shoes and called the homeless shelter to offer to help out for the day.

‘Great idea,’ Nick declared, when he and the children Skyped first thing Christmas morning to wish her a merry Christmas and thank her for the presents.

After all the excitement was over and the children returned to the bosom of Kristina’s family, he said, ‘I’m worried about you. I don’t like to think of you on your own.’

‘Then don’t think about me at all,’ she replied. ‘I’m a grown up. I can take care of myself, and remember, I know the people at the shelter from the couple of times I went with Talia. And believe me, they need all the help they can get today. In fact, it’s making me feel quite saintly to be lending a hand.’

With a dutiful laugh, he said, ‘Then give us a call later to let us know how it went.’

‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘Before you go, is everything working out up there?’
How terrible she was for wanting the answer to be no.

‘Yes, it’s fine. Kristina’s parents are very easy-going and the children were completely blown away by all the presents under the tree. They’ve had far too much of course, but we’ll sort out some things for the hospice when we get back.’

Since this was what they did every year, let the children decide which of their many gifts they’d like to donate to those less fortunate, Bel said, ‘I’ve been wondering if it’s a good idea for them to take the toys themselves this year, or do you think they’re still too young?’

He gave it some thought. ‘I’ll run it past Kristina,’ he said, ‘see what she thinks.’

How would Kristina know? She’s not their mother. She’s not even their aunt
. As far as Bel was aware she had no involvement in helping others at all. This was something she and Talia had done, ever since losing their own mother; it was a ritual that belonged to them.

What she said was, ‘I hope she won’t mind if the children decide to donate presents from her or her parents.’

‘I’ll explain the custom,’ he assured her, ‘and I’m sure they won’t have a problem with it. What time are you expecting to be back from the shelter?’

Having no idea, she said, ‘I guess that’ll depend on how much they need me. If it’s late I’ll wait until tomorrow to ring you.’

It was late now, just after nine in the evening, and though she was exhausted after a hectic and challenging day, she felt faintly exhilarated too, which she often did after pouring her efforts into helping others. She’d never been quite as dedicated to it as Talia had, but perhaps she should now try to become more involved. Apart from anything else it was a great way to stop focusing on herself for a while, which she’d certainly have done if she’d stayed at home today. And there truly wouldn’t have been any laughs within her four walls, unlike at the shelter, where in spite of their wretched lot some of the unfortunates could be extremely entertaining. They were an inspiration, she found, a true example of how indefatigable the human spirit could be.

There was an enormous amount of tragedy there too, of course, and though she’d never known the girl found under the viaduct whom the police had now identified as Anca, she couldn’t help feeling a profound sadness at how lonely and possibly afraid she must have been when she’d died. It turned out that Talia had met her at the shelter, but no one there had seen the girl for some time – in fact not until one of the directors had gone to the morgue to identify her. She was Romanian, apparently. Her body had been flown back to her family a few days ago; the criminal gang that had brought her here was the focus of an ongoing police operation.

What an awful Christmas it must have made for her parents, getting their daughter back that way.

Did they speak any English, Bel wondered. She’d try to find out, and if she could get an address she’d at least send a card.

For now though, she needed to let it go, to accept that she’d done all she was able to for today, and that it was OK to feel safe here at home.

‘We each of us come into this world alone,’ one of the shelter workers had reminded her, ‘and alone is how we travel it, and how we leave it.’

That might be true of most people, of course, but Bel hadn’t been born alone. She and Talia had shared their mother’s womb, slept side by side in cots, beds, tents, cars, planes and shared drunken teenage binges. Whenever they looked in mirrors they saw the other’s face staring back at them; whatever they felt, the other felt it too. Bel had even fallen for Nick at the beginning, though thank goodness it hadn’t lasted. The really odd part of that was how guilty she’d felt when she’d realised that she didn’t love him the way Talia did. It was nonsense, of course, but for a while she’d found herself trying to fall for him again. In the end it was Talia who’d understood what was happening, and had taken her aside to talk it through. Together they’d come to realise that what Bel really wanted was to be able to share the same kind of closeness with a man that Talia was managing to share with Nick. For her it had never been possible, and she feared it never would.

Not wanting to think about that now, she set it aside and went to open her emails. In spite of it being Christmas Day there were a few, mostly junk, but a couple were round robins from old friends. She didn’t read them, but nor did she delete them in case one contained news she needed to know. She’d open them tomorrow, after she’d called Nick and the children, then she’d start searching for properties in need of renovation.

There was plenty she could do to keep herself busy, or more importantly to stop her mind travelling into the kind of darkness that frightened as well as compelled her. She kept thinking that Talia was at the other side of it, waiting for her, unable to move on until she joined her. It really wasn’t that she wanted to die, and yet at the same time, on nights like this, she wanted it more than anything.

JOSIE HAD NEVER
been partial to waiting rooms. They always seemed to be attached to places she didn’t want to be – dentists, courts, prisons – and now here she was at one of the worst, the breast clinic.

What a palaver she’d had trying to find it, walking for what felt like miles, up and down corridors, across squelchy courtyards, through a derelict section (and they were trying to say there were no cuts in the NHS), until finally she’d ended up at the wards over on Blackberry Hill. If she’d known in advance where the unit was located she’d have caught the 44 bus up from town, rather than the 18 which had dropped her at the main hospital gates. Still, she’d know for another time, if there was going to be another time, although she didn’t have any plans on becoming a regular.

She wasn’t nervous, exactly, more terrified if the truth be told, but that wasn’t going to get her anywhere, so rather than give in to it, she’d decided to worry about Jeff instead. They’d only found something else wrong with his car, so now it was going to cost a hundred quid more than they’d expected to get it back on the road, money they just didn’t have. Even if they could raise it, how long was it going to be before they had to shell out for the bloody thing again? It was very definitely more trouble than it was worth, but what was he going to do for a job if he didn’t have a car?

Poor bloke, he was really down on his uppers. The only thing keeping him going was the fact that her cousin, Steve, had rung to say he was staying in Spain an extra week so Jeff could keep the car, provided he picked him up from the airport when he got back. Of course Jeff would do that, gladly, he was even going to make sure the tank was full before he handed the keys over.

He was a kind bloke, Steve, though Josie had to admit she didn’t always approve of his carryings-on. Not that he was the only one on their estate making claims for disabilities or dependants they didn’t have. It sometimes seemed to her that everyone was up to it, especially the foreigners (not the lovely ones who’d lived here for years, but the new ones who hardly ever spoke to anyone apart from to find out what they could get from the state). In truth, she didn’t blame half of them for trying it on, after all conditions were even tougher where they were from, it was the people she’d known most of her life and were fit enough to work that made her mad. Bunch of spongers, as Jeff would say. On the other hand, there were hardly any jobs about, and it was becoming downright impossible to make ends meet now all these cuts were starting to bite. They’d have to start claiming themselves if it went on like this, especially if Jeff didn’t have a reliable car. And now there was this flipping bedroom tax to be finding. If they didn’t, they’d have to move out of the house they’d lived in all their married life to make room for a family with kids. Never mind that her kids still needed a place to call home, and if she didn’t have somewhere for Ryan when he came out, she didn’t even want to think where he might end up.

Don’t fret yourself about that now, Josie, worry about it when the time comes, and plenty could happen between now and then.

Fortunately, she’d got her bonuses before Christmas, and she’d been lucky at Aldi too, which meant they’d sat down to a lovely roast goose on Christmas Day (something they’d never had before), with roasters, spicy red cabbage and deliciously sweet garden peas. For afters they’d had a slice of the fruitcake she’d got for a pound, and a dollop each of brandy cream. She’d even managed to pick up a box of crackers for 99p, which they’d had fun pulling before the meal started so they could wear the paper hats while they ate and told each other the corny jokes.