‘I wanted so much more, Jules. I wanted to be a footballer. It was so close; I could touch it!’ He spoke through gritted teeth. ‘They said I could go all the way, they said that to my dad, I heard them.’ It was a familiar lament that tonight only served to irritate.
‘Oh God, that again! Yes, I know! I know! And I wanted to be a pop star! I’d sing every night into my hairbrush. I thought I was the next Madonna, but I wasn’t. I am not. I am Cassian and Domino’s mum, your wife, and I would like the opportunity to like my life instead of being made to hanker after the one we can’t and will never have. You’re never going to be Pelé!’ She rubbed her forehead.
‘Pelé? I wanted to be Gazza.’
‘Course you did.’ She shook her head. He still had the power to do that, to make light, throw in a funny; this was how he had hooked her in, this was the man she had fallen in love with, one with humour as his weapon, but it was wearing a little thin. ‘I sold the bag you bought me. My Mulberry. For grocery money. I didn’t get nearly what it was worth but when it hits my account it’ll help. I’m selling other stuff too: shoes, clothes, bits of jewellery, anything I can think of that will bring some cash in.’
‘I can get you another bag, a better bag, a bag with—’
‘God, Loz! You just don’t get it, do you?’ His response was a sharp reminder that words were easy and they had a long way to go before their simple life could come to fruition. His suggestion was disappointing to say the least. It required change at a fundamental level. ‘I couldn’t give a damn about the label on the bag or what you paid for it. It was the bag you gave me for my birthday, on the day Cassian and Domino started their new school. We got fish and chips and sat on that hill overlooking the city and you promised me it was a new start. You said that no matter where we lived or what we lived in, it was you and me against the world, that we were the gold, you and me, and that nothing else mattered.’ She wiped her tears on the sleeve of her dressing gown. ‘And I wanted so badly to believe you. I did believe you. I missed my mum, my family, missed a lot of things, but I would have stayed happily on the other side of the world because I believed you. I thought we were done running. I am so ashamed of not asking the right questions, of not going straight back to work when we arrived here in the UK, of giving you control and coming along for the ride!’
‘I never wanted ...’ His voice cracked.
‘You never wanted what?’ She kept her voice low.
‘I never wanted to be ordinary,’ he managed, as tears spilled from his eyes. ‘Mum and Dad were on cloud nine when I got given my Spurs kit – they told everyone! Showed everyone! They kept looking at me and shaking their heads like they couldn’t believe it. So bloody proud! And I’ve spent every day since it all went tits up trying to match that feeling of success, feeling like I was someone.’
‘But you are someone, Loz! You’re my husband and the kids’ dad and that should be enough! You need to not give a flying fuck what your parents think. You’re an adult and this is your life –ourlife – not theirs.’
His whole body seemed to sag as he sank down on to the counter. ‘I’m tired, Jules. I’m so tired. You know, I don’t sleep either.I lie awake for most of the night, trying to find solutions to not having enough money, trying to work out how to shuffle my debt around, robbing Peter to pay Paul and loading up credit cards to keep going, but I’m so tired ...’
‘So give it up. All of it. We need to take control, make it stop.’
‘What would our life look like then?’ He stared at her with red-rimmed eyes.
She laughed, a short burst of ironic laughter that she had to explain. ‘Like everyone else’s. The life I grew up with, which was enough. My mum and dad were happy, we were happy. In fact, I can tell you even now about the treats, the meals out, the presents because they were few and far between and therefore meant more. I see how spoiled Dom is and I know it’s our fault, but things need to be different, for all our sakes.’
‘I’m lucky to have you. So lucky.’ His tears came again. ‘And Georgie. He’s a good mate. He’s good for Cleo.’
‘Georgie with his old lady car?’ she whispered, hoping to remind him that his cruel barbs had no place in their lives.
‘I can get used to driving an old lady car.’
‘You’ll have to,’ she pointed out. ‘We need to sell the house before it’s taken from us, settle our debts, hand the cars back, give up the timeshare and the gym membership, stop buying all the shit we don’t need, and we need to refocus. And do what we can. We need to be proactive, take back control, work hard to get straight – I don’t care what job I do. I know you’ve never wanted me to work, and I agreed so readily! But I’m going to, I have to.’
He didn’t object. Didn’t rail against it or mention how he didn’t want people to think he couldn’t look after his family, as she had suspected he might, but instead nodded and reached for her hand.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt like she could breathe, knowing this was what it would feel like, sheguessed, not to live on the knife edge of worry, waiting and dreading the knock on the door. It gave her hope for the kind of future she had outlined, and it was tinged with sweet relief.
‘I love you, Loz.’ She climbed from her seat and walked around to his side of the breakfast bar, holding his head against her chest, liking the feel of him holding her close in return. It had been months since they had shared this kind of closeness, as if his edginess and her worry covered them both in spikes.
‘I love you too.’ He sniffed. ‘You’re right. We need to talk. I want to get it all off my chest, all of it. I want to tell you everything and I want us to put it all behind us and move on, Jules.’ There was a quake to his words that told her how sincere he was.
She closed her eyes, thankful that he had come around. Feeling, if anything, a little excited about the new shape of their lives. Looking out of the window, this felt like a new dawn in every sense.
‘Yes. I think that’s what needs to happen.’ It was about time she fully understood exactly how much trouble they were in financially. She wanted him to open up about the borrowing, the deals, the business plans, the hands shaken on schemes with the likes of Micky Tate, and promises that bubbled away in the background, all built on the most fragile of foundations. It felt about time he trusted her with the information and allowed her to help him find solutions. Because that’s what families did: they stuck together and they helped each other.
‘This isn’t easy for me to say,’ he began, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.
‘I know, babe, but it needs to happen and then with nothing unknown between us we can move on, rebuild, start over and be happy with our lot in life. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.’ Her smile now was genuine and wide. This could be the start for them, a new beginning.
His fingers dug into her hips, as if he was clinging on, and she ran her palm over his scalp, as he took a deep breath. If anything, she admired him, felt proud, knowing this was a pivotal moment.
‘When things were bad, when the kids were younger, and my creditors were just about to pull the plug, just before we decided to go to Oz, I was in a bad place. A really bad place.’
‘I remember.’ And she did: he used to prowl like a caged animal until the early hours, almost in a trance, running through numbers in his head, he explained, like trying to solve a maths riddle.
Question: if Julie has one hundred and fifty pounds and Lawrence gives one hundred and fifty pounds away, how much does Julie have left to buy her family food?
