She’s also delighted with her newson-in-law, Joe, who she’s treating like he is Prince fucking Harry. I am actually feeling a bit huffy about it because I was meant to be thebig-ticket item during my time here ferfuxache. But, no, apparently Joe is the favourite and all Mum does is fuss and preen overher darling ‘new son’. Mark and I bitch about them together in corners, while Joe sucks up, helping Mum make endless cups of tea for everyone, as Hannah reads us alarmist propaganda she finds on the dark web.
The five of us have become quite the #squadgoals (Mum is Taylor, I’m Lena, Joe is Selena, Mark is Gigi), and we decided for my last two weeks in the country – the final stage of thislife sabbatical – that Mum would take time off work so we could all travel up to Cairns together. We agreed we could book ourselves on a boat trip, learn to scuba dive around the Great Barrier Reef, and – apparently – all get tipsy and do unprovoked karaoke.
The hospice told Mum she should go, she needs the break. Steven is awake now, and he’ll be coming home in a few weeks. He can’t walkor talk properly and is going to need a lot of looking after. There will be professional carers and support, but this is still going to be a big thing.
I still haven’t seen him. It is a life loose end that I haven’t been able to tie up neatly. I want to want to forgive him, but my feelings are too complicated to boil down and examine just yet. Maybe it will be forgotten in time, or maybeSteven and I will never resolve things fully. Maybe it will remain a pebble in my shoe for the rest of my life. But existence is complicated and family is even more so. And I think it’sOKto leave that question unanswered for the time being.
Joe and Mum climb down from the stage, people slapping them on the back jovially. They are buzzing and giggling.
‘Did you hear me up there,Alice?’ Mum says as if literally anyone between here and Papua New Guinea could’ve missed it. I nearly make a joke about how pieces of Ayers Rock are currently crumbling into oblivion thanks to the vibrations, and then I stop myself.
‘You were brilliant, Mum,’ I say. Because I’m totally kind now.
She beams. ‘I always sing that song for karaoke, I love Kate Hudson,’ she says and I cockmy head at her.
‘Kate Hudson?’ I am bewildered. ‘The actress?’
Mum nods, ‘Yes, but she’s a singer, too, isn’t she? I saw her sing it onTop of the Popsyears ago. She was wearing a yellow dress.’
It takes me a minute.
‘Mum, I think you’re thinking of the film,How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, starring Kate Hudson. She sings “You’re So Vain” in it, but the song is by Carly Simon.’
‘Oh,’ she looks stumped. ‘Is that right? Well, she was very convincing playing a singer though.’
I smile widely. ‘You’re awesome, Mum, you know that?’
She smiles back, delighted. ‘I think you’re the awesome one.’ She sighs, a little sadly. ‘I really don’t want you to go home, but I know I can’t keep you here for ever. You’re sure it’sOKto visit over Christmas? I’m booking my flightstonight. You won’t be able to get rid of me that easily, my wonderful girl.’
‘I can’t wait,’ I say, beaming back and meaning it.
I feel so sad that my trip is coming to an end. But also, secretly a bit excited. I feel ready for things. Ready to embrace my life a bit more. I even feel ready for afull-time job. I’ve been thinking about it and decided I was actually pretty good atthat last temping role (faux-sexting my boss aside). I like fixing things and shouting at people, so I’m going to start applying for things in that same area. MaybePR? Maybe marketing? Maybe there’s even a job out there called ‘Troubleshooting for your deviant boss’? It’s been a while since I had a proper look at the job market, but it feels like that is a role this world would need. The gapson myCVwill be fine because I will just lie. That is the honourable thing to do.
I feel so tingly about the possibilities of my life now.
I know it sounds cheesy, but I feel different, I really do. And it’s not just making up with my mum – although that has been such a huge weight off my mind – it’s everything.
The thing is, things have changed. And it’s not because of travelling.Honestly, it’s not like this journey has helped me discover who I am and fix myself, because the truth is, I’ve always been able to see my own flaws and problems. It’s just that before, I thought those flaws defined me. I thought that was just who I was. I’ve spent my life telling myself over and over that I am not that great. That there was no point trying to escape people likeTDbecause hewas who I deserved. I told myself I was too weak to walk away and there was no point fighting it. I told myself that was just who I am – that they are entrenched personality traits – and I just had to live with disliking that side of me. But I think this is a problem we have as humans. We get bogged down telling ourselves something over and over until we can’t see anything else. I got stubborn aboutstaying where – and who – I was in life.
The thing is, if you’re genuinely in a happy rut, that’s great – stay there! Why not! But I wasn’t. I was in aself-hating, miserable rut. Travelling took me outside of myself and let me see how shut down I’ve been – to people and to possibilities. AndOK,fine, I have some abandonment issues thanks to a vaguely complicated childhood, but who hasn’thad something in their lives to be sad about? At some point? Everyone has something! I don’t need to spend my whole life carrying all that around with me. I don’t need to use it as an excuse to push good people away or bash them over the head. And I definitely shouldn’t use my childhood as an excuse to chase after awful men who don’t care about me.
I think we all have a tendency to let thewrong people into our lives at vulnerable moments, and then we get too tired and worn down to remove them.
But I’m done with all that.
I can’t stop thinking about my thirtieth birthday party, where I was so angry with everyone. So angry with the world for moving on around me and without me. But I wasn’t prepared to move on myself. I stomped around that party – where a lot of kindpeople had given up their time and money to come along – acting like I deserved better. I behaved so badly. I was a moody bitch for no reason and it’s a wonder I have any friends left – never mind ones as wonderful as Eva, Joe and Mark. I’m deeply ashamed.
I had are-read of that drunken note I wrote to myself on my phone late that night, where I was moaning incomprehensibly and shouting atFuture Alice about things she had to do. I thought I was being so wise and clever, butre-reading it now, I can see it’s utterly stupid drivel. And there was also a bit at the bottom I’d missed the first time I’d read it, when I was all hungover and in denial.
‘Nobody fucken cares about u aliceNO ONEand u hav to lok out for urSELf.TDis a dik but he is prob the only 1 whoGETSu,proly going to end up together. he understas u, he noes the real u and likes you anyway. Despite wat a shitty perso u r.
soulmate????
This was ur 30ieth and everythin iz ging to be different now. u r differnt and u have yo make ur own way now. fuk evry1 else u don’t need them.’
It makes me so embarrassed to read it back now. Becauseof coursepeople care about me. They’d triedso hard to show me that, and I’d thrown it back in their faces. The ridiculous part is that the only person who truly didn’t care about me back then wasTD.
But this is what happens when you’re unhappy. Things get distorted around you. Things get out of perspective and you project that unhappiness on other people. I thought I was being treated badly because I was sad. I tried to force peoplearound me to be what I wanted them to be – to stop moving on without me – and that was wrong. You can’t make people into anything. They just are who they are. Like with Constance Beaumont – or, sorry, Janet Janet Morris – it’s not her fault she isn’t what I had decided in my head that she was. It’s not her fault everyone needs her to be this perfect glossy thing with a perfect life and perfectgreen eyes. I can’t be disappointed when people are not what I have created out of thin air.
