The House We Called Home Page 19

  Moira worried he might suddenly start talking about love and heart-centres and yogi things again, so she hurried on. ‘He did start to be more of a father to Amy when Stella left which was good. That was nice. And then Amy got friendly with this boy Bobby at college who was very very good at surfing and suddenly Graham had a new project. Another rising star to throw all his energies into. To bask in his glory.’ She waved her hands in the air, knowing she’d gone a bit over the top but couldn’t help herself.

  Mitch handed her the joint and she thought it was maybe just to give her a second to dial things back. She took a quick puff, a bit scared of quite how relaxed she was feeling, how uninhibited, and then passed it back. He gestured for her to take more so she did, just a tiny weeny bit.

  Mitch took great long drags, like he was sucking all the air from the world. Moira watched him blow well-practised smoke rings as he exhaled, all of which fit perfectly inside one another, expanding as they escaped into the air.

  She sat back in her chair, staring at the rings as they disappeared up into the pine trees, and thought about everything she’d just said. She felt a tiny wave of melancholy. Of a past handled badly. ‘I wonder sometimes if Graham ever thought about Stella as a person.’

  ‘Or about you as person,’ Mitch said.

  Moira stared at the smoke and shrugged.

  They sat in silence. More rings drifted up and away.

  ‘I was pretty good at my job, you know?’ she said, stretching her legs out, looking over at Mitch. ‘I held my own.’

  ‘I bet you did.’

  ‘They sent me off to do quite a lot more of the sport after that first go. I interviewed John McEnroe once.’

  Mitch made an impressed face.

  ‘He was my claim to fame,’ she said. ‘If I’d stuck at it I suppose I’d be like that Sue Whatsername now who does Wimbledon. Or that jolly lesbian who’s on everything nowadays.’ Moira frowned. ‘Is that judgemental? To refer to someone as a lesbian?’

  Mitch raised a brow. ‘Just say person, Moira. No need to bring sexuality into it.’

  ‘Well, you wouldn’t know who I was talking about if I didn’t.’

  ‘I think we’d riddle it out.’

  Moira giggled. She was rather enjoying herself. She’d never talked so openly to anyone. ‘I could quite imagine myself settling down with a nice woman friend, you know.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  She reached forward and plucked the joint out of Mitch’s hand, ready to go the whole hog now and taking a great long drag before handing it back. ‘At least we’d be guaranteed to get things done. Women are much better doers than men.’

  ‘Is that a fact.’

  ‘Without a doubt,’ she said, her eye catching on the crisp, fluffy croissant sitting on the table. ‘We need less pandering and looking after.’

  Mitch was laughing. ‘You’re funny when you’re stoned, Moira.’

  ‘Do you think I’m stoned?’ Moira looked up proudly from where she was reaching over for the croissant. Usually she’d cut a croissant in half to eat it more discreetly but today she just rammed it into her mouth with a great big bite. ‘It’s probably a good thing I didn’t stick at the job, by now I’d be making a spectacle of myself on Strictly,’ she said, mouth full of flaky pastry. ‘Or in the jungle eating cockroaches and kangaroo willies.’

  Mitch burst out laughing.

  Moira sniggered and croissant almost came out her nose.

  Dog barked. Frank Sinatra snored.

  ‘I wish I’d done this years ago.’ She sat back, holding her croissant lazily in one hand. ‘It’s bloody marvellous, isn’t it?’

  Mitch nodded, a wry smile on his lips. ‘I think so.’

  Then suddenly there was a rip and the fabric of Moira’s thirty-year-old deckchair tore completely from the frame and her bottom fell straight down to the floor. Mitch sat up startled. Moira’s whole body was sandwiched into the square metal frame, legs flapping in the air, croissant still in hand. She looked at him, him at her, neither of them made any attempt to move. Both of them unable to breathe for laughing

  CHAPTER 24

  The car home from the skatepark was hot and jolly and filled with an underlying tingling euphoria. Like everyone had experienced a wave of adrenaline. Rosie and Amy were singing along to Beyoncé on the radio. Gus had his head in his hands at how bad they were. Sonny was laughing at Gus’s displeasure.

  In the front, however, between Stella and Jack was just a big ball of sexual energy. Stella’s little finger tracing his sweaty thigh as she changed gear. Jack’s hand brushing over her knuckles. He leant back, knackered, eyes trained laconically on her. ‘You OK?’ he asked.

  Stella nodded, no idea how she felt beyond their electric sizzle.

  Beyoncé changed to something less energetic, Amy leant forward between the front seats and said, ‘So, where did you learn all that, Jack? Did you have a teacher?’

  ‘Sort of,’ Jack said, angling his head to talk to her, his hand still on Stella’s thigh. ‘I actually learnt quite a lot from YouTube. Then these young chaps took pity on me when I had a pretty bad tumble.’

  ‘Don’t think they call it a tumble, Dad,’ Sonny called from his seat in the boot.

  ‘No, sorry.’ Jack corrected himself, ‘I totally bailed and they took pity on me.’

  Sonny sniggered at his dad saying bailed.

  ‘It was sick,’ he added.

  Sonny put his hands over his ears. ‘OK, stop now.’

  Jack laughed. Looked at Stella to check she was laughing. She was. He kept his hand on her leg.

  ‘Why skateboarding?’ asked Gus.

  Jack shrugged. ‘Because they were doing it when I was sitting on a bench near the station and I watched thinking, that looks fun.’ Stella glanced across at him, he turned his head so he was talking mainly to her. ‘One day I got up and asked a guy if I could borrow his board and have a go. He said no.’ Everyone laughed. Jack smiled. ‘So I went and bought one.’

  ‘So it was just because it looked fun?’ Gus said.

  Jack paused. Stella waited. He looked really tired now. But a different type of tired from that morning or last night at 4 a.m. A sated tired. ‘No. It looked like a good way to turn my brain off. I didn’t want to have to think any more.’

  Stella looked down at his hand on her leg and put her own hand over it. The touch lasted just a second, because then she rounded the country lane to find a tractor coming the other way and had to change gear really quickly, but it was enough.

  By the time they got home the sun was hovering above the trees and the afternoon light had started to haze. The scent of jasmine trailed through the air like cigarette smoke. House martins darted into the old nest in the eaves watched intently by Frank Sinatra on the doorstep.

  ‘Hey, boy.’ Sonny scratched him behind the ears then picked up an old tennis ball in the drive and lobbed it for him across the garden. Rosie sprinted alongside the dog as he ran to fetch.

  Almost before Stella had unlocked the front door, Jack said, ‘I think I’m going to have to have a lie-down.’ His hand was on Stella’s back, his fingers scrunching the fabric of her top. ‘Me too,’ Stella replied and they both disappeared upstairs.

  Amy wandered in, kicking off her flip-flops, sticky with heat and desperate for a drink.

  Gus strolled in behind her, head down checking his phone. He was just about to walk into the lounge area when he looked up and paused. ‘Is that your mother asleep on the sofa?’

  ‘What?’ Amy was at the sink, gulping down water. She turned to see Moira fast asleep, flat on her back, mouth open, a huge bag of Walker’s crisps spilling out on her yoga top.

  Amy and Gus exchanged a look. ‘My mother never sleeps in the day,’ Amy said, creeping forward to stand next to Gus, ‘let alone when she knows we might be coming back. And I’ve never in my life seen her eat crisps out of the packet.’

  Gus went and peered at her, leaning over so he could check that she was still breathing.

&nbs
p; Moira woke with a start. Their heads banged. ‘Good gracious. What are you doing?’

  ‘What are you doing, more like?’ Amy asked, bemused at the sight of her mother, hair askew, eyes all heavy and hooded.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Moira, actions all a little shady while looking decidedly off-kilter – hair sticking up on one half of her head, mascara smudged under her eyes.

  ‘Are you OK?’ Gus asked.

  But Moira was up, brushing the crisps off her T-shirt, smoothing out her hair. ‘Where have you all been?’ she asked. ‘Anyone want a cup of tea?’

  Gus looked at Amy who shrugged, bemused.

  Moira paused on her way to the kettle. ‘Did anyone say yes?’ she asked, completely befuddled.

  ‘Yeah, I’ll have one, thanks,’ said Gus, walking over to lean against the kitchen partition. Then sniffing the air said, ‘Can anyone smell weed?’

  Amy had a sniff. ‘What does it smell like?’

  Gus rolled his eyes like he couldn’t believe she didn’t know. ‘Like this,’ he said, moving his hands around to enhance the scent of the room.

  Moira hurried to the kettle and mumbled something that sounded like, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Gus’s eyes narrowed and he looked at Amy. Silent puzzlement passed between them, then Amy shook her head. Gus shrugged and went round into the kitchen. ‘Let me help,’ he said, leaning in and inhaling as he got closer to Moira. Then he nodded emphatically back at Amy. Amy laughed, shocked, then covered her mouth.

  Moira turned. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Gus and Amy said in unison.

  Moira went back to the tea, self-consciously smoothing her hair again.

  Amy tiptoed to join Gus, standing behind her mother as she poured water from the kettle into the pot. She leant forward to try and fully appreciate the aroma. But this time Moira caught her. ‘Both of you, I don’t know what you’re doing, but you can do it somewhere else. Leave me alone,’ Moira scolded, cheeks burning red.

  ‘Oh, chill out, Mum. We’re just winding you up,’ Amy laughed, as both she and Gus were booted out of the kitchen and went to flop on respective items of living room furniture. She in the chair by the bookcase in the far corner because her mother’s stuff cluttered the sofa, and Gus in the squishy armchair nearest the kitchen where Moira was still huffing and puffing.

  Gus caught Amy’s eye and nodded, big eyes, like he was definitely right. Amy shook her head, unable to believe that her mother was a mid-afternoon stoner. Gus leant back in his chair with a nonchalant shrug, expression confirming he was right whether she chose to accept it or not.

  Amy looked away laughing, relaxed, pleasantly in the moment. Then her eye caught sight of a photo frame on the second to bottom shelf of the bookcase next to her chair. Her laughter froze as she recognised the familiar silver edges of her wedding photograph. It was like it had been tucked down there to keep it out of obvious sight so as not to upset anyone, namely her, but could still be claimed to be on show. She reached down and tipped the frame up so she could get a clearer look. Her goofy grin, white satin slip, a flower crown in her long sun-kissed hair. Bobby in his pale blue suit, the trousers cut down to shorts in typical Bobby style.

  The sight of them standing there together made her insides tighten. Made her synapses fire with panic. She felt foolish for ever being that girl, for believing in the future she had imagined. Amy did a quick glance of the room. Suddenly nothing seemed familiar in the landscape ahead. Her mother was smoking dope. The stranger over in the squishy chair was the father of her child. How easily everything concrete could change. Nothing was as the girl in the photograph had thought it would be. It seemed crazy that a second ago she was laughing. Her life was like a seesaw she couldn’t get off.

  CHAPTER 25

  In the bedroom, Jack and Stella felt like nervous teenagers. She kept staring at the definition of his muscles, the slight narrowing of his waist. All previously overlooked in favour of an examination of their wrinkles in the mirror.

  ‘All right?’ Jack asked.

  Stella nodded, standing with her back almost against the door.

  Jack watched her from where he was, closer to the edge of the bed.

  Stella wished she had better underwear on.

  She flicked her hair back.

  Jack ran his tongue along the bottom of his teeth.

  Neither of them knew what to say.

  In the end Jack asked, ‘So, what did you think? About today.’

  ‘I think you’re a tosser,’ she said, ‘for not telling me.’

  Jack looked momentarily less blasé, like he’d completely misread the situation.

  ‘But I understand,’ Stella said, walking slowly towards the bed. ‘Sort of,’ she added, kicking off her shoes.

  Jack swallowed. Nodded.

  She could feel the warmth of the room on her skin, see the glisten of sweat on Jack’s.

  ‘You looked kinda sexy up there,’ she said, moving closer to the bed.

  Jack’s mouth tipped up into a grin. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. His fingers reached across and laced with hers. Pulling her towards him so they ended up on the bed. Her hands pressing down on the sheet, either side of his head. She looked him in the eye, her hair falling either side of their faces, a dark veil of glinting sun. ‘No schmaltzy movie-style stuff,’ she said.

  ‘No,’ Jack grinned. Then he reached up and pushed her hair behind his ears. ‘I love you, Stel.’

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I love you too. Sometimes.’

  He laughed. Hand round the back of her neck, he pulled her down, mouth hard against hers. Less schmaltzy movie style, more unable to stop himself.

  * * *

  They lay sweaty and tangled, eyes half-closed, smiling, able to hear washing-up downstairs and children shouting in the garden. The sex had been the best they had probably ever had. Made all the more exciting by the fact her entire family was downstairs and it was mid-afternoon. Stella could actually feel herself glowing and wondered briefly if she looked as young and vibrant as she felt. Jack’s fingers trailed up and down her arm. She snuggled into him all relaxed, wondered if she might get away with a little snooze.

  Then she heard Jack take a long breath in and out, seemingly readying himself for something really hard to say. She felt her body tense in anticipation.

  He moved, propping himself up on his elbow. ‘I blamed you last night because I was being defensive. And immature.’

  Stella lay where she was, very still, cautiously intrigued. Jack rarely admitted such fault.

  ‘It was cost-cutting, the reason they picked me – I cost them too much, I was too experienced.’ He slumped back down, rolled his head her way on the pillow, eyes a little sad. ‘I was doing some really shit stuff, Stel. They were taking contracts on that were lucrative but so boring. I was so bored.’ He looked back up at the ceiling. ‘There’s only so many cheap blocks of flats you can design.’

  Stella rolled onto her side, watching his profile as he talked. Outside she could hear the dog barking and the kids laughing.

  ‘I knew we needed the money – need the money. And I knew that I could be more helpful at home, I knew all that. But—’ He shook his head. ‘When it happened, I felt like such a failure. I’ve never felt like that before, Stel. Completely defeated.’ He scrubbed his face with his hand.

  She reached across and put her hand on the flat of his chest. Could feel the gentle thud of his heart.

  ‘I wanted to tell you,’ he said, eyes pleading. ‘I really did. You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I lay awake thinking about telling you. But— how could I tell you? The lie just got bigger and bigger the longer I left it and I felt like with the job gone, and the money gone, I wasn’t who I was meant to be. And then something kind of took over.’ He looked across at her, big blue eyes wide, like he was almost unable to explain. He sat up, arms draped over his knees. ‘I think to begin with it was relief – that I wasn’t doing t
he job any more. But then it became kind of exciting. I enjoyed the break.’ He glanced back at her. ‘Not from you obviously, but from expectation, I think. Pressure. Stella, I have never rebelled before in my life.’ He twisted round to face her. She sat up so they were opposite each other, the sheet draped between them. ‘When I was growing up, I was good at school and good at home. I worked really hard for my exams. I got a good job. Christ, my dad still rings me to find out my bonus.’ He put his hands over his eyes and laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. ‘With the boarding, I enjoyed being reckless. I know it wasn’t even really that reckless but for me it was reckless.’ Stella smiled. Jack shook his head. ‘I enjoyed that my days were mine again. It was like I was Sonny’s age.’

  She nodded.

  ‘I know it makes me sound like a selfish bastard,’ he said. ‘And I was.’ He laughed with disbelief at himself. ‘I was being completely selfish. But it was like I’d been given this little window of a life where I was completely free of all responsibility. And it was such a relief.’

  ‘And now?’ Stella asked.

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I’m just glad you know now.’

  Stella watched him. Then she moved so she was sitting in his lap, wrapping them both in the sheet, with a view out of the window of the sea stretching almost to infinity as the blue of the sky merged with the horizon. ‘I would have tried to fix it,’ she said. ‘I would have pushed you to get another job. But I really believe, that if you had told me all of this, I would have listened, I believe I would have listened. And I understand.’

  Jack tightened his arms around her waist.

  She sat up straighter and glanced round so she could see his eyes. ‘It was unfair to make someone the proper one,’ she said. ‘You’re not the proper one.’

  Jack nodded, quietly accepting.

  ‘I think maybe we just fit the role we have to step into,’ Stella said. ‘I mean, any one of us could have done what was meant to be done with that septic tank, couldn’t we? It’s just we waited for someone to say they’d do it first. We’re basically a sliding scale of shirkers.’