I can’t even look at her while she’s saying this. The thought is just too grim, even now. But Holly presses on. She tells me how she’d felt something for my dad ever since he took us all camping when we were 17. Dad had denied his feelings for a whole year but according to Holly she knew, and he knew, that there was something there. He tried to steer clear. He’d be out whenever he knew she was coming round. Holly felt awful, confused, alone. She had no one to talk to about it.
‘Do you remember your eighteenth birthday?’ she’s asking. I snap my eyes shut, not wanting to see or hear what comes next. I’d had Holly, Ben and Mila round to mine along with a bunch of other friends. Mum and Dad had gone all out. Mum arranged for a fish and chip van to park outside the house and a bar area on the patio served cocktails. Dad put a gazebo up in the garden and made everywhere look so nice. An older friend of Ben’s came to do some DJing, which we all thought was the coolest thing everrrr because he was already at uni. Mum needed to work away that weekend, I remember now, and she was so gutted to miss my party. We’d gone out for dinner at our favourite Italian on my actual birthday, and I’d made a case for Dad staying away on the night of my party too. ‘I’m eighteen now, like, a proper adult? And my friends and I are all, like, soooooo responsible.’LOL. Mum insisted that at least one official grown up was there to shepherd our teenage behaviour, so Dad stuck around to stop Ben from trying to create a jacuzzi out of washing up liquid in our family bathroom, and Mila from taking things way too far with a boy who kept getting expelled from sixth form.
‘That’s when we spoke about our feelings for the first time,’ Holly is saying. ‘Most people had crashed in sleeping bags in the garden, Ben had locked himself in the bathroom with a bottle of Fairy Liquid and Mila was upstairs madly professing her undying love for “a kid from the wrong side of the tracks”. I went downstairs to get a glass of water and found your dad at the kitchen table. We talked. He felt the same but he hated himself for admitting it. I remember us both just sitting there, sad and silent. We knew it was wrong. . .’
‘So why didn’t you just leave it, Holly?’
‘I couldn’t! I loved him.’
‘Please,’ I shake my head. ‘You’d only just turned eighteen yourself! You didn’t know what love is.’
She holds her hands up, not wanting to make me any more upset. ‘But I did,’ she whispers. ‘I still love him now, with everything I have. My heart beats for him. We knew how much hurt we were causing and I can’t tell you enough how absolutely awful it made us feel, but there wasn’t a thing on earth that could have been more awful than living a lie. We needed each other.’
My head is all over the place. On the one hand I want to reach out and give Holly a squeeze and on the other that coffee grinder option is getting more appealing by the minute. The worst is, I know there’s more to come and my heart sinks further at the thought of it.
‘You got pregnant,’ I say.
‘Iknow. It wasn’t part of the plan. . .’
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’ I think I’ve snapped. ‘There was a plan? Urgh. The thought of you and my dad sitting there plotting your escape is just awful. Awful.’
‘I don’t mean like that,’ Holly replies.
‘So how was it, then? Because from what I can gather, you and my dad were sneaking around while Dad planned how to ditch my mum.’
‘No, no,’ Holly shakes her head again. ‘Paul knew that he was going to leave your mum. This wasn’t just some silly fling, Jazzy. But he wanted to wait until you went off to America, he was so so proud of you for getting that place at the photography academy and he didn’t want to rock the boat before then.’
‘Hang on, let me get this straight, Dad’s plan was to leave my mum right after her only child had left the country for university?’
Holly looks at me like she’s hearing it for the first time.
‘I know it doesn’t sound great, but he wanted what was best for you,’ she eventually says.
‘Fucking hell. And then what happened?’
Holly takes a deep breath. ‘The pregnancy was a complete accident. That’s when Paul decided that we’d have to move faster. He wanted to support me and that meant living together so he told your mum earlier than planned.’
‘What a fucking shambles,’ I say.
Holly gives me a sorrowful smile.
‘That’s exactly what my mum said when we told her. She refused to accept that her daughter was eighteen and knocked up. . .’ Holly looks up at me, her eyes red raw. Another wave of pity washes over me and I want to punch it in the face. Stupid wave.
‘Shemust be so in love with her grandchildren now, though.’
Holly sighs. ‘Mum and Dad haven’t spoken to me since that day. They haven’t met Everly or Willow. They wouldn’t return my calls or write back to my letters. They forwarded every single picture of the girls back to me, unopened. I’ve had to stop trying for my own sake.’
‘Jesus,’ I whisper. Holly’s taking a shaky sip of her drink. She’s lost so much from her life because of one decision and, no matter how lonely she’s been without her parents and her best friends, it’s painfully obvious that she has not regretted that decision for one single moment.
We’re on our third coffee as Holly scrolls through her photos, stopping each time she finds a favourite. There’s no denying that Everly and Willow are beautiful little girls. I’ve learned that Everly is strong, wilful and full of life, while Willow is calm, clever and thoughtful. They sound like legends, I think, my head still throbbing from this morning’s chat.
‘Everly looks just like Dad,’ I say, zooming in on one photo.
‘She’s arty too, like youandPaul.’
My half-sisters. They’re actual people.
‘Do you want to meet them?’ Holly suggests, ever so softly.
I’m so confused. On the one hand, I want nothing more than to hang out with these gorgeous little girls, or to properly reconnect with Holly, or even to give my dad a hug for the first time in years. I can actually feel my mouth ready to reply with a ‘yes’. But on the other hand, I just can’t. Not yet.
My head was pounding as I made my way home from coffee with Holly and I needed distractions, fast. Back in the day, that would have involved a lil’ trip round to Hot Tom’s but alas, he’s been kicked to the kerb. These days, there is always work to be done so I got home, pulled on my hot pink house leggings and occupied my mind with everything but family dramas.
Brand new Jasmine-only calendar set up. Self-employed status officially registered with Her Majesty’s tax pals. (Absolute barf). Flights to Dublin booked. Inbox sorted. Email sent accepting another shoot when I get back. Two celebratory tubs of fancy ice cream bought. It’s offish, I am no longer my own side project. I’m my main squeeze. Jasmine Hepworth Freelance Photographer IS GO!
