The Dilemma(55)

Mike nods. ‘That’ll be it. You know Adam, he’ll be livid if something has happened which means that today will be less than perfect. Oh, this is my song choice,’ he says, as ‘Uptown Girl’ starts playing. He holds his arm to Jeannie. ‘May I escort you to the dance floor?’

Mike and Jeannie are hugely popular, and as everyone crowds round to watch them dancing together, I take advantage of a few more moments of solitude. I still can’t quite believe Mum turned up. It was so strange to see her standing there because whenever I tried to imagine our reconciliation, I pictured her as I remembered her: her hair drawn back in a bun, her face unsmiling, my father looming over her both physically and – I realise now – mentally. And I hadn’t allowed for her having aged. Bizarrely though, she seems younger, maybe because of the way she has her hair now. She told me she got it cut the day after my father’s funeral because as she watched his coffin disappear into the ground, it dawned on her that she was free, that she could do as she liked without having to refer to him for everything. She said that even though she loved my father, she’d felt a great weight lifting from her shoulders.

Mum isn’t the only one feeling lighter. It’s not just because the need to be reconciled with my parents – a need so raw it hurt – has finally gone. It’s because soon, in a few hours, I’ll be free of something else that’s dominated my life for years, and that’s this party. I might not have thought about it every day of those twenty years, but definitely every week. If I saw a beautiful dress in a shop, I’d wonder if it was the kind of dress I might like for my party. If I tasted a delicious dish, I’d think about having it on the menu. If I came across ideas for decorations in a magazine, I’d wonder if I should have something similar. I couldn’t get away from my party. It was always there, not necessarily in a bad way, but taking up space in my mind. And now that it’s here, now that it’s everything I dreamed of, despite Rob, a part of me can’t wait until tomorrow evening, when the tent is down, when the last of the food has been eaten and when everybody has left. And then it’ll just be me, and Adam.





11 P.M. – 12 A.M.





Adam


I can’t stay in the bathroom forever. I’ve been here too long, standing at the sink, watching the blood seep from the gash across my palm, feeling nothing. The throb of the music outside matches the pounding in my head. I’m so close to the edge that I want to go out to the garden and scream at everyone to get the hell out of our house. To stop myself, I imagine the carnage it would cause – everyone staring at me in alarm, then Livia, my dad, Josh, Nelson trying to calm me, asking me what’s wrong, worried that I’m having some kind of breakdown.

Would I be able to keep it inside me, the news that Marnie might have been on the plane that crashed? Or would I scream out my pain and anger, tell them that I hate them all, because they’re alive and Marnie might be dead? They’d be horrified, devastated. And no-one would understand, not even for a second, why I let the party go on.

I hear feet on the stairs. Josh.

‘Dad? Where are you?’

I clench my hand, feel the warmth of blood. ‘Just patching up a cut!’

His voice comes through the door. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’

‘I’ll be right down.’

‘Two minutes?’

‘Yes, two minutes.’

‘OK. I need you there.’

His footsteps thunder down the stairs. I haven’t given much thought to Josh in all this, I realise, about how losing Marnie will affect him. But I can’t go there now. And there’s still hope. I need to believe that there’s still hope.

I splash some water on my face and make my way down, trying to avoid looking at Marnie’s bedroom door. I’m halfway down when the music cuts out in the middle of the song, leaving behind a sudden silence. There’s a low murmuring of people’s voices, the occasional loud laugh, a shout. The murmurs get louder, as if something is about to happen, Livia’s speech, probably. And then, out of nowhere, I hear, ‘I’m here, Mum!’

The world comes juddering to a halt. I’m hearing things, it must be in my head. Then Livia gives a cry of delight and everyone is laughing and cheering, and I’m running through the kitchen, across the terrace, up the stone steps, to where everyone is standing on the lawn, straining to see over each other’s shoulders to where Livia – I catch a glimpse of her dress through the crowd – is standing. I can hear Marnie talking excitedly about how she arranged this surprise with Josh, and as I push my way through, nobody takes any notice of me, they’re too busy laughing. And at last, at last, I get to the front, elbowing Nelson and Rob aside.

‘Watch it!’ Rob says.

‘Let him through, Rob, he wants to see his daughter,’ Nelson says, and I’m looking for Marnie, I can hear her but I can only see Livia, and she looks so happy that I know she’s looking at Marnie. I follow her eyes until I find where they are focused. And the same terrible weakness I felt earlier comes back and I stumble against Nelson. And Nelson, his eyes still fixed on Josh’s computer screen, where Marnie is telling Livia that she can’t wait to be home, throws an arm round my shoulders.

‘Isn’t this brilliant? Look at Livia’s face! This has made the party for her. Doesn’t Marnie look great!’ He turns to me. ‘Did you know about it?’