She sat at the beautiful walnut burr dressing table and opened the long drawer in the middle of it. As she did, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. When Kenneth’s mother had given them this dressing table as a wedding present, she’d been a young woman. Hopeful. In love. Beyond happy. Thrilled that she’d found this incredible man. And she’d been – yes, with the passing of time she could admit it – beautiful. Not pageant queen stunning, but beautiful in that young, healthy way, before time and the ageing process takes hold.
What had happened to that woman? Why had she locked herself away, not physically, but emotionally? When had she decided that her needs didn’t matter, that she had to accept the hand that she’d been dealt? And why hadn’t she fought harder against it?
It didn’t matter. All that was important now was that she was going, and that she could spend the next few decades of her life making up for the unhappiness she’d lived with since the day she’d made her bed and lay in it.
She looked in the drawer and saw the blue velvet box sitting in the same place it had been since her mum handed it to her on the night she passed away.
How shocking was it that she was a nurse, yet she hadn’t seen the end coming? Her mum had been ill for so long, lung cancer, bed-bound for the last few months, but she’d insisted on staying in her own home. Often she could barely speak, her words lost in the black swamp of her contaminated lungs. But not that night. Bernadette had been sitting on the edge of the bed, wittering away, telling her stories about the cases that had come through the doors of A & E that day, sharing the staffroom gossip, the latest news about Nina and the kids, about Stuart’s flat and how happy he was at University, when her mum had suddenly taken her hand.
‘Bernadette, you don’t need to stay,’ she’d said, her voice coming in raspy gasps that chipped Bernadette’s heart with every strangled sound.
‘Mum, of course I’m staying. I’m not leaving you, don’t you worry about that. I’ll always be here.’ It wasn’t a hardship. In fact, the few weeks that she’d spent in her old bedroom, using the very real excuse that she had to be there to look after her mum, had been both the most heart-breaking and at the same time most relieved she’d felt in years. She didn’t have to see him every day, to look at him, to breathe the same air.
‘No,’ her mum had said, before a racking cough had sent her body into spasms. ‘You don’t have to stay with him. Leave him, Bernadette. Be happy.’
The words shocked her. Her mum and dad had been married for over fifty years, and they were old-school. Staunch Catholics, they disapproved of divorce. Just get on with it. Make it work. Everyone had their ups and downs. It helped that there was rarely a cross word between them and they’d co-existed in mutual contentment for their entire lives. When Dad had died a few months before, Mum had been crushed. Ever since, she’d refused to take off the gold locket she wore around her neck, the one with old, black and white, faded photos, one of her mum, Cathy, one of her dad, Arthur, taken on their wedding day.
‘Mum, I…’
‘Ssssh,’ her mum had said, her frail hand pointing upwards. ‘I don’t want your dad to hear. He wouldn’t approve.’
Bernadette could see how much effort it took her mum to smile and she leant down, kissed her forehead. ‘Thank you Mum,’ she whispered.
Cathy had passed away that night, off to meet up with Arthur again.
It was a few weeks later, after the funeral, after the house had been cleared out and handed back to the council, that Bernadette finally got time to think about her mum’s words.
Leave him, Bernadette. Be happy.
Bernadette opened the navy blue box, took out the locket and fastened it around her neck.
I’m doing it mum. Just help me get there.
‘Are you okay?’ Sarah asked, making her jump. She hadn’t heard her coming back upstairs.
‘I’m fine,’ Bernadette replied. ‘Let’s just get the rest of this stuff and get out of here before he comes back.’
20
Lila
It was getting harder and harder to act normal in front of Cammy. And why should she? Yes, she’d figured that it made life a bit more enjoyable to keep him around until she could be with Ken, but perhaps it just wasn’t worth it. She no longer wanted to be held by him, didn’t want to kiss him, and definitely didn’t want to have sex with him, when every part of her just cried out to be with Ken.
The pretence with Cammy in the shop had firmed her resolve that she had to bring things to a head today. Right now. The sooner the better.
And if this was going to be one of the most important nights – cancel that,themost important night of her life, then she wanted to look her best.
Detouring slightly from her original plan, she crossed the road and popped into the dry-cleaners she used to launder all her clothes. Lila didn’t do washing. She didn’t do ironing. Cammy had been surprised at first, but he soon adopted her ways, and while he washed his gym clothes and casual stuff at home, he’d got into the habit of dropping all their stuff off here a couple of times a week, and then bringing it all back a few days later, freshly laundered.
The woman behind the counter – Lila could never remember her name – looked up and smiled. ‘Hi there,’ she said, with familiarity, but not friendly enough to use her name.Just as well. Overfamiliarity really got on her nerves. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Yes, my boyfriend dropped off some items a couple of days ago and I want to pick one of them up. A Cavalli dress. Pink.’ It was small and it was strappy, and in this weather there was every possibility that she’d lose body parts to frostbite, but she didn’t care.
‘I’ll need the ticket.’
Lila sighed, glad she’d remembered to pick it up off the hall table, but come on, how many pink Cavalli dresses was this place actually going to have?
She tried to stop the irritation pursing her lips. No point in getting wrinkles round the mouth just because some shop assistant was on a power trip. She rummaged through her bag, found the little pink ticket and grudgingly handed it over.
