I continued to play. ‘It was one of Mum’s favourite songs.’
He lunged for the piano and slammed down the lid over the keys. If I hadn’t had speedy reflexes…
Even Dad looked shocked for a moment as I held my hands up, palms towards him, fingers splayed, shaking but intact. Moments later, he unleashed what I suspected was years of pent-up fury on me. I was still reeling from what had just happened and barely took any of it in but certain words and phrases jumped out at me between expletives.Useless, unwanted, ruined my life, needy, stupid, worthless.Then he was gone, slamming the door behind him so hard that it felt as though the whole building shook.
I was still sitting on the piano stool, my arms crossed over my body with my hands tucked protectively under my armpits, when the door from the lounge opened and Marianne appeared.
‘What happened?’ she asked, her voice small.
‘I forgot to put the lamb in the oven.’
‘Oh.’
‘And Dad slammed the piano lid down when I was playing it and he nearly—’ I burst into tears as the reality hit me of the damage he could have inflicted if I hadn’t moved my hands quickly enough.
Marianne crossed the room and, for the first time ever, gathered me in a hug. And then she let go and left, making me wonder if I’d imagined it.
I didn’t know what I was expected to do about lunch. All I knew was that I didn’t want to be in the cottage when Dad returned. I pulled on my coat and boots and walked up to the field Mum and I used to lie in when spotting shapes in the clouds. There’d been a lot of rain recently so the field was boggy. Dad apparently thought I wasstupidbut I wasn’t daft enough to lie down, no matter how much I wished I could.
A drystone wall ran around the perimeter and there was a section in need of repair where several stones had fallen over, creating a seat. I hadn’t been there long when I spotted a figure coming towards me. My stomach clenched, fearing it was Dad until the figure waved and I realised it was Cliff.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked when he reached me.
‘No.’
I shuffled up a little and he squeezed in beside me.
‘I heard shouting. He hasn’t hurt you, has he?’
I told Cliff what had happened and he took my hands in his, shaking his head as he checked for scratches.
‘How did you know I was here?’ I asked.
‘I heard you playing and then I heard your dad shouting and wanted to check you were okay. Nobody answered the door but I knew what date it was so figured you’d be here with your mum.’
‘How is it you remember the date and my dad and sister don’t? Or act like they don’t. Mind you, they’re both so down all the time that I doubt I’d notice the difference.’
‘It’s getting worse at home, isn’t it?’ Cliff asked.
‘I don’t know how much more I can bear. I wish there was someone out there who wanted to marry me but there’s fat chance of me meeting anyone. I work exclusively with women, we’re not allowed to talk at work, and I can’t get to know them after work because I have to run for the only bus that comes anywhere near home.’
‘You’ve never talked about wanting to get married before.’
‘If your only role models for marriage were my parents, would you want to walk up the aisle?’ I exhaled heavily. ‘I don’t know, Cliff. Right now it feels like it’s my only way of escaping and that scares me because I can’t see it ever happening. You know what my biggest fear is?’
His eyes met mine. ‘What?’
‘That I’ll still be here in ten years, twenty, thirty and I’ll have turned into my sister. It’s no way to live. I don’t really want to get married but I need to.’
I nearly added how much I was dreading him moving away and how I feared our friendship would dwindle when he was no longer next door, but I didn’t feel it was fair to lay any guilt at his door. He was doing the right thing for him and I was fully supportive of his move – just envious I couldn’t do it myself.
* * *
The following Saturday, Cliff took me to a matinee showing ofThe Color of Moneyat the Alhambra in Keswick. He insisted on paying for my ticket and told me he’d purchased the film poster for me to put up with theTop Gunone he’d given me last year. To thank him, I bought us both a bag of chips afterwards and we sat on the pebbly beach at the edge of Derwent Water, eating our chips and discussing the film.
‘I liked it but I preferredTop Gun,’ I said.
‘Yeah,Top Gunwins for me too. You know you said you didn’t want to get married? I bet you’d change your mind if Tom Cruise came along and swept you off your feet.’
