She reached for Midge’s hand and took comfort from the way he squeezed her fingers. It spoke volumes, it saidI love you, Ren. It’s okay. He’s loud, but harmless. We’re good. This is exciting. Let’s do this for Soph!So in tune were they, she got all of that from one tiny squeeze.
There were, throughout her day, markers that reminded her that she was no longer in the first flush of youth. The ache to her shoulder in the cold morning, the way it took her eyes a while to properly focus at the start of the day, her need to devour the news on the radio while the kettle boiled, her colleagues’ lengthy discussionsaboutGrand Theft Auto, in which she had absolutely zero interest, their in-jokes, laughing heartily as they quoted fromThe Osbournes, all of it left her feeling, if not old, then certainly much, much older than them. And in those moments she wondered how her life had sped by so quickly, remembering being of a similar age. Her life had been different, tethered as she was to her mum and dad, trying to make amends for the keeping of secrets from them. And then the accident, confirming the thought that it was better, safer, to stay close to all that was familiar, to hold tightly on to the foundations of her life and close her eyes.
Deafening music filled the room, so loud she couldn’t hear herself think. Her mother put her fingers in her ears. Remy wished she could do similar but was aware that she was trying to be a young hip mum who took life in her stride. A young hip mum wholovedthis kind of techno blasted into her eardrums! She found a smile that she hoped wasn’t a grimace and stared at the stage.
The light show was spectacular. The white flashes and pulsing neon did much to distract from the music and as soon as the first models appeared she almost forgot the infernal noise. The clothes were breathtaking! Sharply cut suits with oversized structured jackets and loose pants with hanging straps, all worn by androgynous students with deadpan expressions that absolutely would not have been out of place on the catwalks of Milan or Paris. The crowd clapped with heartfelt enthusiasm, and when the boy who had designed the pieces came on to the stage in his own fabulous suit, it felt entirely right to rise and give him a standing ovation! She had no need to ask who his parents were as she spied the couple sobbing into their hands as their son did his thing. And she understood. That feeling when your kids did good ...
‘What were you thinking? Why would you do this to me? All you had to do was one thing, one thing! Go and sit the exam, a couple of hours of your time, that was all ...’
She blinked away the memory.
The next show was similarly high octane, the music more of the pop variety and the light show in shades of crimson and fuchsia. This collection was of evening gowns – beautiful, beautiful dresses with gathered waists, boned bodices, and acres of tulle that floated down the runway and lifted the skirts to make them full and vast. Again, the crowd went wild! The designer of the stunning frocks crept out to take her bow with obvious reluctance, pushing her glasses up on to her nose and fiddling with the tape measure around her neck that hung down over the shoulders of her ratty T-shirt. Impressive didn’t come close! Remy was in awe!
‘This is it!’ Jamie shouted, leaving no one in any doubt who he had come to see. Remy smiled at him. It was impossible not to be wrapped up in the electric atmosphere, and she was glad he had made the effort, knowing it would mean a lot to Sophie.
Midge’s leg jumped with nerves and her mum sat up straight in preparation to take it all in. Remy held her breath, excited, nervous, and desperate to see her clever girl’s designs.
The room plunged into darkness, which was as surprising as it was intense, and everyone gasped, before the room slowly filled with a quivering blue light as if they were underwater. The music was soft, the gentle roll of waves crashing, whale song, and in the background, the melodic hum of a folk-inspired tale about the sea, sung by a voice of such clarity and beauty it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
The music went on and still no model appeared. Remy turned to Midge and pulled a wide-mouth smile, a smile that said,Hope it’s all going to plan. Shouldn’t someone be on the stage by now?
He bit his lip, eyes wide in anticipation.
Even leopard-print Laurel sat forward in her seat, her look one of excitement.
A girl did eventually appear, wearing jeans with a plastic shopping bag fashioned into a halter-neck top. With a sparkling microphone held close to her lips, she began to half talk, half sing, her words a rolling montage of facts mixed with words that everyone concentrated to hear.
‘Hundreds of thousands of tons, hundreds of thousands of tons! That’s how much clothing we throw away each year! Clothes we won’t wear because we don’t like the colour, the style, outdated-after-one-wear clothes, cheap, cheap clothes for which the earth pays a high, high price! You should weep! You should weep for our planet, but weep too for our seas! Hundreds of thousands of tons of microplastic, that’s what the fashion industry puts into the ocean each year – fish and chips and plastic, you want salt and vinegar with that?’
Remy looked at her mum, whose face was contorted as if she was confused. Granted, it wasn’t what they had been expecting, but it was brave and fearless and memorable!
The girl on the stage continued.
‘Water polluted for dyeing, for finishing, for fashion, for what? All or nothing! That’s it, all or nothing, so we say choose nothing! Re-wear, re-use, recycle! Stop the waste! Choose nothing! Choose the planet!’
And then came the models.
All barefoot, wearing plastic bags, crudely stapled together to cover their modesty. All with eyes rimmed with dark kohl and hair wild and tied with the plastic that cans usually sat clustered in. The girl’s voice got louder, the models grouped on the edge of the stage in a crowded, haphazard jumble, crammed together, and then came Sophie, her beautiful girl, herself in a bin liner.
‘Enough!’ the girl shouted, and the music stopped, and the lights held still, and Remy fully understood the expression ‘to hear apin drop’, as a collective silence held them in thrall. ‘All or nothing, and we choose nothing! We choose change!’
It was perfectly choreographed; as she shouted the last word, everyone on the stage pulled the plastic bags from their bodies and stood in their underwear, the terrible statistics that still rang in her ears scrawled on their arms and legs in black paint. And then darkness, total darkness, before the first clap and then a whoop of approval, and then Sophie gotherstanding ovation and Remy thought her heart might burst from her chest, as she clapped and stood and did her best to swallow the tears that snaked into her mouth.
‘Brava!’ was the chorus, and she could only nod and clap as emotion rendered her mute.
Midge grabbed her and held her tight, and as she looked over his shoulder, she saw Jamie, crying and clapping. ‘That’s my daughter!’ he repeated to anyone who caught his eye. ‘That’s my daughter!’
And she was glad he had come.
Ashleigh
Ashleigh read the message and put her phone face down on the counter before digging the big spoon into the bubbling lasagne and dolloping a portion into the white ceramic bowl. It was lovely to be home with Archie. The mellow sound of Norah Jones floated from the surround sound, she’d even lit a candle on the island, and now she sipped from her glass of red. Doing her best to calm her pulse, putting her worry over Guy, over the business, over her trip home this coming weekend and a thousand other mental paper cuts out of her mind, on this rare early evening when they were all together.
This was how she made things better: a family dinner, being present, this was how she brought them closer together, how shegave her daughter the kind of memories that sustained her. When life threatened to overwhelm Ashleigh and her feelings of low self-worth almost drowned her, this was how she felt like she belonged, had a right to be here.
Just breathe . . .
Evie lay on the rug with a book in her hands, and just the prospect of the three of them sitting down to supper was enough to lift Ashleigh’s spirits. The fact they had Marguerite’s fabulous food to tuck into, a bonus. She was hungry.
