Everything Has Changed Read online

  After a while, Izzy broke into a fast walk. ‘You two go on, see you at the bottom,’ she puffed, then picked her way through the runners as she walked back down the hill. Victoria and Lulu carried on. Lulu had always been super-fit. It came with the territory of being twelve years younger – and she’d been pounding the Dales at Dad’s as well. Sweat built up on Victoria’s forehead, but she kept up with Lulu and ran the last loop steadily to the top of the hill. They were close to the finish line and she could see Izzy standing by an official, waving at them.

  Half an hour later, the three of them were sitting on the grass on a picnic rug Victoria had found in her boot. Astonishing, she’d thought, hauling it out and shaking it, how New Victoria got so organized. They were sitting in the sun enjoying iced coffee from the pop-up coffee shack in the field. Children were running around with ice creams, dogs were barking, the noise of a lawnmower in the distance – the atmosphere was relaxed. Victoria wondered why on earth she hadn’t done this with Izzy or Lulu before. It was right on her doorstep.

  ‘Look!’ shouted Izzy, and they all turned to stare as Markie’s brightly coloured van pulled up in the car park and Markie swung open his door. He started to walk then hung back a bit. ‘Hey! It’s Markie, maybe he can sit with us? I wonder what—’

  ‘Shh, Izzy. I don’t want to see him.’ Lulu pulled up her hoodie top and yanked it over her face.

  ‘Don’t you? Why not?’

  ‘Not really. I’m embarrassed. I got hammered at my own wedding, ran down the aisle. I mean, he’s messaged me, a bit,’ and her face lit up suddenly, ‘he’s sent me a couple of emails, work stuff, but – never mind.’ She glanced over at where Markie was walking side by side with a woman with long blonde hair and shifted her position. Then she sat with her legs underneath her, frowning.

  ‘Oh look! He’s with someone! God, she’s fit!’ Izzy peered over at Markie and his companion.

  Lulu slid down and was nearly lying on the rug. ‘Hmm,’ came the mumbled response from Lulu.

  ‘Hey Aunty Lu,’ said Izzy taking a huge slurp of her coffee through a straw. ‘What happened, anyway? That day. I mean, I never really asked you properly? You nearly got married, I mean… Really?’ Izzy jiggled her straw in and out of her cup, waiting for a response. When you are sixteen you can shoot from the hip like that.

  ‘She saw Markie, Izzy, that’s what happened.’

  Lulu frowned at Victoria and shook her head. But then she let out a long breath. ‘Well, I guess I realised in time that getting married wasn’t really my dream.’

  ‘Or getting married to Simon,’ said Victoria pointedly. Lulu shot her another look.

  ‘What is your dream, Aunty Lu?’ Izzy said, lying down on the rug and stretching her arms above her.

  Lulu shrugged. ‘Acting, singing, if I’m honest. Simon never really “got it”. He thought it was just something I did to fill in time. He forgot I’d spent four years at drama college. I just couldn’t see myself married, kids – not the way Marjory was imagining, not just right now anyway.’ She shook her head and some of her blonde curls escaped from her hoodie top.

  ‘Then why didn’t you go for it when you had the chance? That Mamma Mia audition, Mum told me about it, but you never talk about it, Aunty Lu.’

  ‘I wasn’t good enough,’ came Lulu’s curt reply. Victoria knew when not to push things with her sister. Seeing Markie had obviously unnerved her and brought wedding day memories back. She tried to catch Izzy’s eye, doing a ‘bug-eye’ at her, but Izzy wasn’t looking and she sat up again. ‘But, Mum, you always tell me and Jake not to take no for an answer,’ Izzy carried on, picking at her purple nail polish. ‘You know, you should follow your dream, Aunty Lu. It’s what you always wanted, right? Remember when you took me to see The Commitments at the West End – and then later, Cats? You said you’d be on stage one day.’ Izzy shifted her leg. ‘I remember it so clearly. Your eyes were, like, really bright – and you were wearing this cool green glittery eyeliner, but anyway – you loved it, Aunty Lu. It was, like, your world.’

  ‘You’re right, it’s just—’ Lulu looked into the distance.

  ‘What?’ Victoria touched her sister’s knee, but Lulu remained silent.

  Victoria decided to change tack. ‘Hey, I’m about to run three kilometres with a new bust,’ she grinned at them both, ‘then swim two hundred metres, cheered on by all the parents at Izzy’s school – so if I can do that, then I think you need to be brave too.’ Victoria picked at some nearby daisies and started to thread them into a daisy chain.

  ‘How do you mean?’ Lulu tugged at her hem of her running top.

  ‘That’s up to you to decide. But follow your dream, whether it’s getting back to the West End, or telling Markie how you feel.’ Lulu glanced at her from under her hood then. ‘Be yourself,’ added Victoria.

  ‘And just what is that, Mum?’ Izzy said, staring straight at her. ‘It’s been bloody Jekyll and Hyde with you! One minute you’re some uptight super-mum before the accident, and now, you’re like, well,’ Izzy lifted a shoulder to her ear, ‘you’re, well, nicer.’ It was the biggest compliment Victoria could hope for at the moment. She fought back tears.

  ‘Izzy, shh.’ Lulu poked Izzy in the ribs and smiled at her.

  ‘No, it’s true,’ Victoria held up the daisy chain and placed it round Izzy’s neck, then bent in for a quick kiss.

  ‘Eurgh, that’s way too much, Mum!’

  ‘Remember when we used to make loads of these in the garden,’ said Lulu, piercing a daisy stem and looking at Victoria, ‘then bring them in and put them on Mum and Dad?’

  Victoria nodded and cast her eyes over to Markie who was striding back to the van holding a cup of coffee with his companion. He hadn’t seen them – or if he had, he wasn’t about to come over. ‘Lulu, why don’t you go on, go over there and speak to him?’

  Lulu glanced at the couple in the distance and shrugged. She shook her head and yanked her hood over her head a bit more. A cloud suddenly blotted out the sun, casting a long shadow over them.

  ‘No. I don’t want to speak to him, to them,’ Lulu mumbled.

  But from what Victoria could sense, she had never seen her sister want something so much in her life.

  43 Victoria

  ‘Go, Jake!’ James was red-faced, yelling at his son as he sprinted in the relay. She stole a glance at him. A week had slipped by and it was now June. It was the last week of term with all the craziness that brought, from art exhibitions, to fayres, to camp-outs, sleepovers and cricket matches. Today was Sports Day. Victoria was standing next to James at the side of the track, next to the ticker tape. The atmosphere was relaxed: there was music in the background, sweaty kids darted between parents clutching melting ice cream, the muffled announcement on the Tannoy about which event was next, the earthy smell of newly cut grass. Victoria pulled the brim of her sunhat down further to shade her shoulders. It was the dads’ race next. She squinted in the sun at James. She was just contemplating a playful nudge in the ribs when a booming voice interrupted them.

  ‘James!’ It was Mike, one of the dads from the school, standing next to them. ‘Hi Victoria. All better?’ He leant over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

  It was easier to lie. ‘Yes, fine.’

  He turned to James: ‘Racing?’

  James hesitated.

  ‘Maybe you shouldn’t bother. Because I’ll probably beat you though.’ Mike kept a straight face.

  Victoria’s memory might be shaky, but she knew her husband’s reaction to being baited like this. He’d be up for any kind of race – it was one of the things she loved about him. ‘You’re on.’ James punched Mike in the arm and sprinted off ahead of him as Victoria focused on the motley crew of dads lining up at the start line. Some were stretching out quads, some tying shoelaces, others were just chatting as if they were at a drinks party.

  Jake ambled over to her. ‘Hey – good race,’ she said and stopped herself just in time from swooping in and giving
him a hug. ‘You run like your dad.’

  ‘Now that’s a compliment,’ he said, smiling and held his hand over his forehead, squinting into the sun. ‘Dad racing?’

  Just then, Mrs Jennifer appeared on the side-lines next to Victoria. ‘Hello Mrs Allen, can I have a word?’ She gestured to a shady spot and they walked side by side as Mrs Jennifer told Victoria that Bella was leaving the school. ‘She’s moving on. Her choice. I had a long chat with her parents and they feel that a new start is a good thing.’

  Victoria nodded. They hadn’t asked for Bella to move, and Izzy was coping alright, but there was always the spectre of her, the memories Izzy had to face on a daily basis. And she knew Bella was repentant, they’d had a letter from her. But would that be enough? It would be much easier on Izzy if Bella wasn’t around the whole time, reminding her of her past.

  ‘Well,’ Victoria replied, ‘I wish her luck in the new school. Thanks for telling me.’

  ‘That’s alright,’ Mrs Jennifer said putting her hand up to shield her eyes from the sun, then added: ‘Izzy’s grades are improving. She says she’s interested in becoming a vet? That’s a tough course. But her grades are on track.’ She started to move off, then turned back. ‘Oh, and thank you for participating in the duathlon, raising money for the anti-bullying project. I saw your name on the list.’

  Victoria nodded as her stomach did a little squeeze. She would be alright. Suddenly, the whistle sounded and the dads were off. She dashed back to where Jake was standing to watch. They were all in the same position for a while, then a rangy-looking man with baggy red shorts started to fall back, he turned to the crowd on the side-line and shrugged his shoulders, to laughter. Another, with cropped blonde hair, was running in his socks – he began to skip, to cheers from the onlookers and he saluted them; suddenly it became clear this was a race between James and Mike as the two of them took the lead. She looked up – they were head to head with fifty-or-so metres to go. James was fast – but Mike was just that bit speedier and the space between them was opening up as everyone cheered them on, especially Mike as he was nearly at the finish line. James’s face was a fusion of red cheeks and clenched jaw as he flew past them. Victoria clutched Jake’s arm. ‘Go James!’ she shouted. He was making up some of the ground, from where she was standing he had a chance, she put her hand up to shield her eyes from the glare and peered again. Just as she did, James took a huge spurt – and then, somehow, lost his footing and tumbled to the ground, clutching his knee.

  ‘Dad’s gone down, Mum! Look!’ Jake sped off but a first-aid woman was already there applying an ice pack to James’s knee. Jake crouched down beside him, and after a while James started to laugh. Mike had jogged over to them by then and pulled James up by the hand. James limped slowly, taking Mike’s arm as Jake jogged back over to her. ‘Dad’s got a small graze, the big noodle,’ Jake said smiling. ‘The first-aid woman says just clean it properly when you get home and has Dad had a tetanus?’ Only James wasn’t meant to be coming home today, was he?

  Back at the house Victoria added ice to a jug, cut up some lemons, and poured in some cloudy lemonade as the others sat outside. She had insisted James come home with them to clean up the cut, and he hadn’t resisted. Especially when she’d had a brainwave and told him they were having Moroccan chicken later.

  James, Jake and Izzy were all sitting in the sunshine at the small table on the patio looking over the garden when Victoria came out with a tray of lemonade – and a first-aid kit. She stopped abruptly, the tray in her hands and took in the scene. Her family. They were sitting there in the June sunshine, laughing together, Izzy in a pair of shorts, poking Jake in the ribs for some reason, James’s head thrown back, shoulders shaking – one leg up on the nearby chair.

  She carried on towards them and glanced at the garden. The grass was growing over the edges, but the small planters she had made up earlier in the month were glorious. Bright pink splashes of geranium poked through the magenta lobelia, and tiny white carnations bobbed in the breeze. The shrubs she’d planted in the borders were flowering, blousy peonies, upright lupins and red-hot pokers were all vying for attention in the summer sun. She placed the tray on the table and glanced at her handiwork. Jake filled up everyone’s glass, while she reached inside the first-aid kit for an antiseptic wipe. She bent down next to James and started to dab his knee.

  ‘Ooo!’ James grabbed hold of her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. She almost forgot what she was doing as little sparks flew inside her chest and she had to concentrate on getting all the grit out.

  ‘Sore?’ She made a face at him.

  ‘I’ll live.’ He smiled at her as she swiftly placed a plaster over the graze, then stood up and refilled everyone’s glasses as Jake and Izzy stifled a giggle.

  ‘What’s the joke?’

  ‘I just said to Izzy that maybe Dad’s not as young as he used to be!’ Jake raised his eyebrows at his father. ‘You know, getting beaten by Mike.’

  ‘I’m not over the hill yet, you know. I would have definitely beaten Mike if I hadn’t fallen over.’ He chucked the ice cubes from his glass on the grass and grinned at Jake. ‘Hey, the grass is a bit long isn’t it?’

  She sat back on her seat and took a long drink of lemonade. The grass was pretty long. She’d been meaning to cut it last week, but life had taken over. And it badly needed doing.

  ‘Jake, can you cut the lawn today – maybe with Dad’s help?’

  A bit of lemon flew out of Jake’s mouth. ‘Dad? Cut grass? You must be joking! Dad and lawnmowers don’t mix!’ Didn’t they? She couldn’t remember.

  James narrowed his eyes at Jake. ‘I’m perfectly fine with a lawnmower, thank you very much.’

  ‘Yeah, right Dad. The last time you got the mower out, we had to call Grandad to ask about the parts, and send him pictures on your phone, you didn’t know how to start it!’

  ‘That’s enough Jake,’ he was slightly red in the face. Was he trying to defend himself in front of her? She felt oddly touched. James scraped his chair back. ‘No time like the present.’

  ‘What about your knee?’ Victoria placed her glass on the table and frowned. James stopped and turned to look at her.

  ‘It’s fine.’ Then he strode towards the shed. ‘Jake, come and give me a hand, son!’ he shouted.

  ‘Sure.’ Jake winked at Victoria. ‘See? Can’t do it himself.’ She swirled the ice round in her glass and smiled. They were nudging each other as they walked to the shed at the back of the garden, then they disappeared inside.

  She refilled her glass and closed her eyes, enjoying the sun on her face.

  ‘Bella’s leaving,’ Izzy said quietly to her. Victoria opened her eyes and looked over at her daughter. She’d been so much more relaxed at home, the snarky comments had lessened, she even gave Victoria the briefest of hugs the other day.

  ‘I know, Mrs Brown told me today. Relieved?’

  Izzy shrugged. ‘Yeah. I mean I’ve got new friends now, but I think it’s better for both of us that we wipe the slate clean.’ Izzy went back to looking at her phone just as there was a noise and swearing from further down the garden. She could see James pulling the starter cord but the machine was silent. After a few more goes, James kicked it and Jake started to laugh. He shoved James out the way and grabbed the cord, gave it a mighty pull but nothing. Then James took over again. He pulled it so hard he almost fell backward. Then he steadied himself and kicked the lawnmower and swore. For someone who designed vast shopping complexes and understood the exact proportions in a technical drawing of a fifteen-storey building, he was hopeless with a piece of garden machinery, it seemed. She fought the urge to giggle, then felt a rush of sadness. It was such a perfect, domestic scene, yet things were far from normal. She closed her eyes, feeling a breeze on her cheeks, and willing herself to find some more memories of the last six years she could hold close to her heart.

  Much later, she was sitting with James on a blanket at the bottom of the garden. It was the best spot to
catch the evening sun before it disappeared. His knee was still painful and he had his leg stretched in front of him. They’d had a late lunch – the Moroccan chicken had fallen off the bone, the French bread had been warm and crunchy and James had made a salad of nectarines and goat’s cheese. At one point, she’d felt the wine going to her head and she’d closed her eyes briefly as Izzy went back to the kitchen to get salad servers; she’d listened to the sounds of summer, to Jake and James laughing, to the clank of cutlery and the birdsong, and imagined it was always like this, the four of them around the small garden table, the sun shining and the smell of freshly cut grass around them. Then she’d been flustered, as she’d opened her eyes and caught James staring at her.

  Once lunch had finished, Jake and Izzy had cleared up, to lots of coughing and nudging and ‘We’ll leave you two to catch up’ then, one by one, they’d wandered off – Jake to go skateboarding with a friend, and Izzy disappeared into her room. She’d been sure James would bolt off then, saying he had things to do, but he’d stayed for a cup of tea, and now, she’d just poured them two glasses of wine.

  ‘Garden looks good.’

  ‘Thank you. It’s given me time to think.’

  ‘That’s good.’ He took a sip of wine. ‘You never used to have time for it.’

  Didn’t she?

  They were silent for a while as they both enjoyed the last of the day’s sun dancing over their bodies, dappled from the nearby silver birch. She lay down on the blanket and twisted the fringed edges between her fingertips. The sky was a tapestry of colours now: hazy burnt tangerine, with crimson and ochre streaks painted across it, and smears of white, as if someone had spread meringue mixture across the heavens.

  ‘And what have you been thinking about?’ James took a sip of wine.