‘My house. My rules.’ He appeared in the doorway. ‘Last chance to change your mind.’
I didn’t want it to end this way but there was no way I could stay here.
‘I’m marrying Cliff.’
‘Then you’re on your own.’
‘Can I just have…’
The flash of Dad’s eyes told me it wasn’t worth finishing the sentence. If I asked for that extra five minutes, I was likely to leave with nothing at all. Clothes were easily replaced, especially when I made most of my own, but my cherished items from my mum couldn’t be and it was essential I left with them. I snapped the suitcase clasps shut, grabbed the handle and left my bedroom without a backwards glance. Dad was so close behind me as I descended the stairs that I could feel his breath on my neck.
Mum’s sewing machine was set up on the dining table, but Dad grabbed my arm as I reached for the lounge doorknob.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
‘To get my sewing machine.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ He shifted round me to block the doorway. ‘Time’s up.’
‘Please! Mum gave it to me.’
‘Then you have a choice to make. It’s him and no sewing machine or us and the machine.’
What sort of choice was that? I didn’t need to imagine what the future looked like if I stayed because I’d already seen my sister living it. I couldn’t turn into Marianne, trapped between these four walls, friendless and alone, fearful of the outside world. I needed to get out and live and Cliff had offered me the chance to do that. I wasn’t naïve enough to think a better offer would come along.
Pushing down the lump in my throat at the thought of abandoning Mum’s sewing machine, I met Dad’s glare and held my head high. ‘I choose Cliff.’
‘Then you’re dafter than you look. Don’t come crying to me when it all goes wrong.’
‘I won’t need to because it won’t go wrong.’
‘It will. Mark my words.’
Tightening my grip on the suitcase, I walked out of the only home I’d ever known. Not that it had felt like a home for many years. Since Mum died, it had felt more like a prison and I couldn’t be more grateful to Cliff for giving me the key to escape. I wasn’t daft like Dad said. I was very clear about what I was getting into and it was a hundred times better than the alternative of staying and festering, feeling the life steadily sucked out of me.
I strode along the lane, my head held high, my eyes focused on Cliff’s car parked at the end. There was no need to look back. Dad and Marianne were my past and Cliff was my future and I’d made the right decision, choosing him over them. But I couldn’t help myself. I turned for one more look at the cottage that Mum had loved so much and pictured her trimming the hedge, dead-heading her beloved roses, chasing me around the garden, and it all felt too much. Tears rained down my cheeks as I sank onto my knees.
Next moment, Cliff was crouched beside me, his arms around me.
‘He threw me out,’ I cried.
‘I’m so sorry, but it’ll be all right. I’m here for you. I always will be.’
And I knew he would. Cliff was kind, supportive and reliable, just like my mum had been. When the tears subsided, Cliff helped me to my feet and put my suitcase in the boot.
‘It’s not very heavy,’ he said.
‘He didn’t give me time to fill it.’ I shuddered as I relived that horrible moment. ‘He wouldn’t even let me take Mum’s sewing machine.’
My voice cracked and Cliff held me once more. I loved that he didn’t sayI’ll buy you a new one, knowing how much Mum’s machine meant to me.
‘Mum’s things…’ I said. ‘All those memories… I had to leave them behind.’
‘The things, perhaps,’ Cliff said, ‘but not the memories. You’ll always carry them with you. All you need to do is close your eyes and you’ll see your mum.’
And with that one statement, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I’d made the right decision. Cliff knew me and understood me. Dad and Marianne didn’t and, frankly, it was vice versa. Cliff was my family now and I knew he’d do everything in his power to make me happy.
‘Ready to go home?’ he asked.
