The Vintage Summer Wedding (16 page)

Anna’s mum had given her bike to the neighbour’s kid when her ballet teacher had advised against cycling and the contradicting forces on the muscles in her back.

Rachel tapped the handlebar, ‘Well, as they say, you never forget how to do it.’

Anna nodded, but thought how easy it was to forget everything else. Rachel had been her friend as a kid and she had just wiped that out. Her only aim when coming back to Nettleton ‒ to try and stop her dad pushing for her to come and visit again. If she was bad enough, then she could just stay at the EBC School and close the door on that part of her life. On the faces that peered through windows as her mum had thrown all his clothes out the window, and the people who had watched in the square as her mother had faced up to Molly, the auctioneer, and stood as close as she could get and spat,
You proud of yourself, you little slut? You have sex in my bed, did it feel good? Destroying my family?

‘Why are you so nice to me?’ Anna asked Rachel as they stood there with the bike. She could see Hermione out of the corner of her eye, pausing on the threshold of her dad’s house. She knew she’d be watching and wanting to know what they were talking about.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ Rachel shrugged, ducking away as a huge Bumblebee bobbed past.

‘You know—’ Anna said, ‘Because I was such a bitch to you. If I was you, I’d be gleefully watching in the corner now.’

Rachel nodded her head from side to side, undecided, and said, ‘It was obvious that you were just so upset back then. We all knew it.’

‘It was?’ Anna thought she’d handled it all quite well. Her mask of emotionless uncaring every time she stepped foot back in the village. It was unnerving to think that anyone might have interpreted this so easily as weakness.

‘Yeah. Definitely. And I suppose I liked being your friend. I liked you and while, yeah, you were a cow, I think there was part of me that just wanted you to want to be friends with me again.’ Rachel shrugged. ‘Weak, huh.’ Anna shook her head, kicking the wet grass with her toe, as Rachel went on. ‘I was a bit jealous of you as well. I wanted to be in London living this glamorous ballet-star lifestyle.’ Rachel laughed. ‘We were stuck here doing gym with Mrs McNamara. And then you came back all cool and strong and, while my mum would tell me it was a front, I was terrified of you.’ She laughed again. ‘You were pretty damn scary.’

‘Really?’ Anna made a face, although looking back on it she could imagine being a bit scared of herself if she met her now. She thought of the look on the face of Farah Fawcett Lucy in Razzmatazz.

‘When everyone would say that you were going to be a star, I would secretly wish that you weren’t. Sorry, I shouldn’t say it, should I? I just wanted you to come back and it all to go back to normal, but it never did.’

‘I’m really sorry for how I was. I’m ashamed to look back on it,’ Anna admitted. The relief of saying it was like shrugging off a big, old, heavy fur coat.

Rachel smiled. ‘It’s just nice to see you now. You don’t forget do you, your childhood friends.’ As Anna shook her head, Rachel added with a cheeky grin, ‘And I think maybe you’ve got your Luke Lloyd comeuppance.’

Anna rolled her eyes, then got on the bike and walked it out backwards through the gate. ‘Yeah, that’s true,’ she said as she straightened up and started to pedal, the bike leaning precariously to the right making her brake straight away. She laughed, ‘Oh god, now I’ve got to remember how to ride a bike!’ Then tried again and tilted again, ‘This may take me slightly longer than I anticipated.’

‘You’ll get there.’ Rachel leant her hands on the fence and Philippe came up to join her.

‘She is not very good on the bicycle,’ he said.

‘But I’m getting there!’ Anna shouted over her shoulder, unable to turn around now she was sort of pedalling and the bike was sort of moving, more wobbling, and she was braking too hard every time she picked up any speed. ‘I’m getting there,’ she shouted, and then laughed and they watched her get smaller and smaller as the endless road stretched out ahead of her.

Chapter Twelve

The first thing Anna noticed as she pedalled up to Primrose Cottage was that the roses had gone. Shorn off at the base of the stem, the bush was now bare. The second thing was Seb, sitting on the front step, his arms draped over his knees.

She wheeled the bike up the path and he looked up and said, ‘I’m moving out.’

She paused. ‘Right,’ she said after a second, nodding.

He looked up at her, his face rigid and nodded back.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Into the shed.’

Anna snorted a laugh, unable to help herself.

‘I don’t think it’s very funny.’

‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘But you can’t live in the shed.’

‘I’ve swept it out. I’ve put up a camp bed and there’s an old camping stove, a radio and I’ll come in if I need the loo.’

‘Sounds cosy. Like a man cave,’ she said, trying to find some neutral ground where they might crack the surface and remember that they liked each other. ‘Maybe you’ll quite enjoy it.’

‘No, Anna. It isn’t a fucking man cave, it’s a shed. I won’t enjoy it at all.’

‘Why are you doing it, then?’

‘I thought you’d want me to.’

‘Shouldn’t you have checked with me first?’ she asked.

There was a pause.

‘Maybe
I
want to,’ he said. ‘Your phone arrived this afternoon. Could you do me a favour and delete that app?’

‘You really think I’d keep it?’ she asked, incredulous.

He looked stubbornly down at his hands.

Tell him you’re sorry.
‘Well, fine, enjoy the shed,’ she said, wheeling the bike to the side of the house and locking it up to a drain pipe. ‘I’m sure you’ll be very happy there. Your parents will be delighted to hear about this turn of events.’

‘I’m not telling them,’ he replied as she walked back round to the front door.

Don’t ask.
‘Why not?’

‘Because I don’t want them to have anything else against you.’

Tell him that maybe you are afraid.
‘How chivalrous. Especially considering you’re the one who stayed out all night with Melissa Hope.’

Seb pushed himself up off the step. ‘I think the horse had already bolted by then.’

Laugh.
‘Please don’t use one of your dad’s sayings at a time like this.’

‘See you, Anna,’ he said as he walked away in the direction of the shed.

Follow him, Anna. Follow him and live in the shed with him. Are you winning?

No. No I’m not.

But years of training. Years of poise kept her standing exactly where she was.

Chapter Thirteen

As Anna walked into the Razzmatazz rehearsal, she was tired. Looking out the window at the little light in the shed all night would do that to a person.

She was wearing the clothes she’d worn all day in the shop, a dusty pair of safari shorts and a black vest and, as she pushed open the door of the hall she noticed how the temperature in the cavernous room had dropped alongside the thunderstorm. It was dark and cold and the shafts of sunlight coming in through the high windows seemed to be doing nothing but illuminating the dust and glitter from the children’s playschool as it swirled like snow.

She rubbed her hands down her arms and looked around to see where everyone was. Three kids sat on the steps to the stage, heads down, arms slumped on their knees, shoulders rounded.

‘Where is everyone?’ she asked, checking her watch because she was sure she was ten minutes late.

It was ten-year-old Billy who looked up. Matt kept his head bent, red Beats headphones over his mop of hair. ‘I think they’re making a stand, Miss.’

‘Anna.’ she said. He looked confused. ‘Anna,’ she said again, ‘Not Miss.’

‘Oh, OK, Miss.’

‘A stand about what?’ she asked, shivering slightly as she went to look for a light switch.

Billy sighed like she was stupid. ‘About you, Miss.’

The brunette who sat on the step below the two boys and who Anna didn’t really remember from the previous rehearsal, glanced up, a look of nervous terror on her face at the exchange. As if somehow maybe this all might get back to a real teacher.

Anna paused with her hand on the switch and, before throwing light on the great hall, said, ‘So why are you lot here?’

‘My mum made me.’ Billy rolled his eyes. Then he added, more quietly, ‘She thinks I could be a dancer.’

Anna held in a scoff and congratulated herself on her self-control. When she asked, ‘Do you think you could be a dancer?’ she flipped the light switch and the room blinked with bright, fluorescent light.

Billy squinted, ‘Dunno.’

‘Do you enjoy it?’

‘I didn’t enjoy the last class. With you.’

‘But that’s what being a dancer would be like,’ she said, walking closer to the three of them.

Billy narrowed his eyes and said, ‘Well I don’t want to be one then.’

The look on his little face suddenly didn’t sit comfortably with Anna. It was like the feeling of a Daddy Long Legs landing on her bare arm, that once brushed off could still be felt, still make her shudder at the thought of it.

Was that what being a dancer was like? Had it been like that with Madame LaRoche? It had been hard, it had been painful and sick-making and exhausting and she had been shouted at and pushed and pushed beyond her limit and her body had ached and her feet had been battered and bruised and her muscles had shaken with pain, but then there were times when it had been amazing. Like being sprinkled with fairy dust, like the sweat and the ache and the thirst and the fear had fuelled her hunger, her adrenaline, her skill, her determination and when it had come together and been perfect she had flown. And she had loved it.

When had she last felt that adrenaline?

‘What about you?’ She nodded towards Matt and said loudly so he might hear over his music, ‘Why are you here?’

He raised his head a fraction of an inch, bright-blue eyes blank, and shrugged a shoulder like he couldn’t give a shit whether he was there or not.

Billy sniggered. ‘Cos he fancies Lucy.’

Anna glanced around the room, looking for that massive fringe, ‘But Lucy’s not here.’

‘Yeah, but he didn’t know that, did he?’ Billy snorted.

Anna felt her lips twitch as Matt blushed scarlet and swiped Billy across his carefully swept to the side hair.

‘And you?’ Anna nodded to the girl.

‘Mary,’ she said, playing with her split ends.

‘Why are you here, Mary?’

Mary paused, looked down at her feet. ‘I felt sorry for you.’

Anna opened her mouth to huff but didn’t, instead she straightened her shoulders and tried for poise but as she lifted her nose a little higher in the air it suddenly seemed completely pointless. Taking in her surroundings, and the disgracefully poor turn-out, she thought, d’you know what, fuck it, and walked over to the stage, sliding herself up onto the wooden slats.

‘OK, fine. We’ll work with what we have.’

‘You’re kidding, right?’ Billy made a face.

‘No,’ she said more sternly than she had intended and she watched the three of them bristle. ‘No,’ she said again, softer. ‘No, we’ll just practice. Billy and Matt, you had a good connection from what I remember, and your lifts were good, but you’re not focused enough, you aren’t aware enough of what your bodies are doing. We’ll work on posture today and that should lead to balance. It’s here‒’ She put her hand on her stomach. ‘Got any muscles there?’ She snorted at the idea of it.

Matt bashed Billy, ‘He’s got no muscles.’

‘Oh, and you have, I take it?’ Anna raised a brow.

Matt hooked one finger under his T-shirt and lifted it to reveal a cracking set of abs.

‘Blimey!’ Anna was caught totally by surprise and realised she was blushing.

‘Like what you see, Miss?’ Matt winked.

Her instinctive reaction was to brusquely tell him no, but instead she found herself laughing. ‘Well, that’s a hell of a set of muscles,’ she said. And, as Matt grinned for the first time ever, that she’d seen, and even Mary sniggered under her curtain of hair, Anna felt her shoulders soften.

‘Come on, let’s warm up. We’ll do some Pilates, just to get your muscles loose.’

‘Pilates is gay,’ Matt sneered, glugging down some Coke. Billy sniggered.

‘Oh good God.’ Anna shook her head. ‘Even top footballers do Pilates, you idiots. Come on, it’ll make you better with those tumbles. And swap the Coke for water.’

‘Why?’ Matt took another glug.

‘Better for your muscles. Better for your bodies, less sugar.’ She paused. He eyed her dubiously, seemingly waiting for some kind of order or reprimand.

‘But, it’s up to you.’ She shrugged, pretending that she didn’t care if he carried on drinking Coke or not, when really she wanted to tell him that he was wrong and she was right.

After a quick Pilates warm-up, they then paced through what they could of the basic steps. Billy hurled himself into the air whenever the chance arose, back-flipping like an elastic band, then running off to sit on the sidelines until his next portion of acrobatics. It turned out, however, that, as they practised the moves for their slightly bizarre street dance, disco and now ballet-infused routine, that Mary and Matt were actually quite a duo. Mary, who, when she tied her hair back and was pulled out of the shadows, her sleeves pushed back on the jumper, which Anna, freezing cold, was coveting, could seemingly move. And not just move but move really damn well.

‘Mary, why don’t the two of you try the Hustle in the mid-section. Stand in for Lucy.’

‘I don’t wanna do it with Mary,’ Matt sulked.

‘Just try it,’ Anna urged.

‘But I want to dance with Lucy.’

‘Yeah,’ Mary added, quietly, ‘I don’t want to be Lucy’s part.’

‘She’s not here!’ Anna said, exasperated. ‘Just give it a go.’

And so Mary took a reluctant step forward from where she’d been standing on the edge while Matt made a face at Billy and Anna gave him a look to try and stop him being mean. The step was a version of the disco, Continental Hustle, that Anna had attempted to teach them last time round.

‘Remember, it’s based on six counts not four,’ Anna said as they stood awkwardly together, Mary barely able to touch Matt’s hands.