Cathy.
‘So what brings you to Tinbury?’ I asked, going into beautician mode.
‘Another emergency, like.’ I could listen to her accent all day; there was something soothing about it, even though she was clearly in a crisis. ‘Me car broke down yesterday. I’m supposed to be in Southampton today for work, and if I don’t get there by tomorrow, I’m screwed. Now I’ve wrecked me manicure, and I’m supposed to look immaculate.’
‘What is it you do?’ I was curious. Southampton seemed a strange place for an air hostess to be based.
‘I’m due to start work on a cruise ship, in guest services; it’s my second contract after spending a few months back at home. If I miss that ship, they won’t fly me out, and they definitely won’t give me another contract.’ Her forehead crumpled.
‘Where’s your car now?’ I asked, wondering if there was anything I could do to help.
‘It’s in the garage. Tom very kindly arranged to have it repaired swiftly. I should have it back in a few hours and then I can get on my way.’
Cathy kept up a steady stream of chatter whilst I buffed and prepped the nail. She told me all about life on board a cruise ship, and despite my despair about my own situation and my red-wine hangover, I found myself smiling. It sounded so exciting.
‘Waking up in a different place every morning is just magical. It never gets old either – the itineraries change so much, and so do the staff, including the officers.’ She winked animatedly. ‘I’ve been all over the world and got paid to do it!’
‘It sounds fantastic. I’d always wanted to go on a cruise holiday but never got around to it. I suppose it’s not something single people do,’ I added sullenly, placing the acrylic nail over her own and pressing it down.
‘Oh, you’re way off! Lots of single people do it; with so many staff members looking after you, you’d never feel alone. Or at least that’s what the guests say. Last time, I shared a tiny cabin with a snoring dancer and would’ve killed for some time alone.’ She laughed.
‘Maybe. I’ll need to start earning some money first. I don’t exactly have the financial means for luxury travel anymore.’ I didn’t intend to overshare; she was just so bubbly that I felt I could tell her anything. ‘My husband has just left me for another woman so I’ve been neglecting my business. In fact, you’re my first customer of the week.’
Her face fell. ‘Oh no, what an arse. I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have kids too?’
‘No, we never had any, he … Daniel never wanted any.’ She looked at me with sympathetic doe-like eyes.
After a moment she squealed. ‘Oh my God!’
‘What?’ My eyes shot down to her hands. Had I dripped glue on her skin somewhere?
‘You should totally apply to work aboard! They have salons on most ships, you know; most of the big ones have full spa facilities.’
I laughed. She was clearly joking. I couldn’t just swan off to work on a cruise ship when I had a business to save. I rummaged in my bag to find a close-matching red nail polish.
‘I’m not joking,’ she said. ‘I’d think about it if I were you. It doesn’t sound like you’ve much to hang around here for. The wages aren’t great, but you’ve got no living costs, and with tips most people manage to save a fair bit. You should at least look into it.’
‘Okay, I’ll look into it.’ I humoured her. Her naivety was sweet. What did she know about running a business, paying a mortgage? She’d barely entered adulthood.
As I walked up the cobbled street towards home, my mind wandered, and soon I was imagining a life at sea, far away from this village and its inhabitants. Because the sensation felt so odd, it took me a minute to realize I was smiling. It was such a silly notion, but pretending to be young and carefree for a few moments wouldn’t harm me.
***
Cathy’s cheer was infectious, but once it absorbed into my skin, by contrast, it highlighted something else. Jen’s haunted expression the night before. I slid out my phone. There were no missed calls from her, no messages. Nothing. I’d really upset her.
I keyed out a text but it took a few attempts to get it right:
Jen, what I’d said was out of order. Of course I appreciate you. You are everything to me. I love you
Jen, forgive me for my awful outburst. You’re all I have.
I love you and I’m sorry
Jen, I’m sorry. My head is in a mess and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.
Hannah
x
Just seconds after I hit send, my phone buzzed to life. Jen.
‘Hi,’ I answered nervously.
‘A text message apology?’ she fumed.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered as my breath caught. Jen had been mad at me before, but never mad because of me. My heart felt broken. ‘I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them.’
‘Words like that don’t just come from nowhere. Do you seriously think I see you as the child I never had?’ She almost spat the words.
My throat started to ache. ‘No.’ I swallowed hard.
‘You are the one who’s always been so naive, Hannah. You’ve had no life experience and you needed someone looking out for you. If you were some ballsy broad, do you not think I’d have found better things to do?’
I remained silent.
‘And as for not feeling any pain, don’t you think losing Mum and Dad hurt me? Did you never stop to think how I had to remain strong for you, Hannah, because you fall to pieces if Emmerdale is cancelled when the football is on, never mind losing your parents.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘I was scared of what losing them would do to you.’ Her voice trembled as she whispered the last part.
I couldn’t speak. The tears burnt my eyes in revenge for being a spoilt, selfish, ungrateful brat. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered eventually.
‘Graham and I actually thought about adopting. A while ago now, we wanted a family but I said no, because I didn’t know how you’d cope.’
‘I didn’t know.’ My words were barely audible as tears ran down my face. ‘You should have; you still could,’ I reasoned.
‘It’s not the point. I’m not blaming you, Hannah. I’m trying to say you are not my substitute, you are my priority.’
I sobbed. I felt so pathetic.
‘And I suppose, if I’m honest, I thought I’d be an aunty one day. A cool one – the kind that gives out sweeties when Mummy says no, and buys them their first skateboard.’
I
