The Dilemma(56)
But I can only stare at the video of Marnie, caught up in the nightmare of being able to see her but not being able to hold her. Of her being here, yet not being here. And Nelson, recognising that I can’t speak, gives my shoulder a squeeze.
‘She’ll soon be home,’ he says. ‘She’ll soon be home.’
‘And Dad, where are you? Ah, there you are!’ Marnie cries, pretending she can see me, and everyone laughs. ‘I can’t wait to see you either. Not long now, only a few weeks. And who knows, maybe we’ll be watching this together,’ she adds, smiling a smile that is just for me. A smile of conspiracy, because I’m the only one who understands the meaning behind her words and everybody is too busy waving goodbye to her as she disappears from the screen to give them any thought.
Livia comes over, her face flushed, her eyes shining with unshed tears. ‘Wasn’t that lovely? Was it you who arranged it?’
‘No, it was me,’ Josh says, coming over to join us, his laptop now closed and tucked under his arm. I can’t stop staring at it. ‘I wanted Marnie to FaceTime tonight but when she said she might not be able to, as she was going away, I asked her to send a back-up video just in case. She said to wait until eleven thirty and if she hadn’t got through by then, to play it. She might still FaceTime, though,’ he adds.
No, she won’t, I realise, pain searing through me as I finally accept what I’ve tried so hard to deny. She’ll never FaceTime again. Marnie only agreed to make the video so that Josh wouldn’t know she was coming home. She didn’t expect it to be played at the party because she’d already be here. Because everything was going to turn out exactly as we’d planned.
The sounds are too loud, the colours – balloons, dresses, lights – too bright. Everything blurs. I can’t move. I can’t speak. Next to me, Livia and Josh hug, and the soft material of her dress brushes my hand. I can see our family, our friends, standing in groups, drinking and laughing. But it’s as if I’m not here.
Livia
With everyone still grouped on the lawn from watching Marnie’s video, I realise it’s a good time to thank everyone for coming. Adam is here, so I’ll be able to give him his present before he does another disappearing act. I’m not sure what’s going on with him but something isn’t right. Earlier, when I had my arms around him, there was a moment when he slumped against me, as if he suddenly had no strength left. First thing on Monday morning, I’m going to make him an appointment with the doctor.
Despite everything she’s done, it was lovely to see Marnie on screen. I’d been talking to Izzy when Josh set it up, so when I heard I’m here, Mum! she sounded so close that I thought was that she was here, that she’d turned up unexpectedly as a surprise. And everything – all the anger I felt towards her – disappeared, and all I wanted was to put my arms around her and hold her close. I would never tell Josh this, but when I realised it was a video and that she wasn’t actually here, some of the tears that sprung to my eyes were tears of disappointment. And I think Adam must have thought the same, because when he came bursting through the crowd, I could feel his bewilderment, and I wished I could have warned him and spared him the same disappointment. But I couldn’t, because I couldn’t take my eyes off Marnie.
When the video came to an end and everyone was clapping and cheering, my eyes happened to fall on Rob and the proprietorial look I saw on his face as Marnie waved goodbye from the screen sent another wave of white-hot anger coursing through me. But then I saw Adam and he looked so bleak, so utterly devastated, that I forgot Rob’s treachery in an instant.
Kirin and Izzy appear in front of me, their arms laden with gifts.
‘Time to open your presents!’ Izzy cries.
Before I’ve had time to work out what’s happening, Izzy manoeuvres me behind one of the tables which has been cleared of plates.
Josh cuts the music and I begin opening my presents. Most of my friends have clubbed together to buy me a beautiful gold necklace, and Adam’s parents have bought me matching earrings. There are also lovely bath oils and essences, chocolates, a cookery book, a canvas bag for the beach, a leather purse and from Josh, an intricate silver bangle which I absolutely love. By the time I’ve thanked everybody individually, I feel so emotional that I don’t know how I’m going to be able to speak, especially as I don’t have anything written down. But I manage to say what I want to say, and when I get to the end, I reach for Adam, the plaster on his hand a reminder not to squeeze it too tightly.
‘The wonderful thing is that, after tonight, this need for a special day, which came about because I never had the wedding I dreamed of, will finally be out of my system. Thanks to everyone here, I’ll have lived my dream. But the person I have to thank most is Adam. He never told me to let go of my dream, or told me that it was unattainable or stupid or selfish or unreasonable, or any of the other things he could have said. He always encouraged me, supported me, championed me.’ I turn to Adam. ‘You’ve given me so much, and now it’s my turn to give something to you.’ I walk over to one of the large plant pots and slide out the large brown envelope I hid under it earlier. ‘This is for you, with my love.’
As Adam takes it, I detect a fleeting panic in his eyes and I feel terrible. I knew he’d hate having to open it in public but I’ve gone ahead anyway because I want all our family and friends gathered here tonight to know I’m not completely selfish, that I’ve thought about Adam too, that this party is also for him. But it’s not, I realise. The fact that I want them to believe it is shows I’m only thinking about myself, about how I will look.