‘Your wedding? What happened with your wedding? I thought you were single,’ Millie blurted.
‘That’s another long story. I’ll get this one out of the way first,’ he replied, with a rueful shrug. ‘Anyway, it was around then, and I thought this could be a really good idea to cheer everyone up and do something cool. Zara and Millie and I have been communicating back and forward, planning what we thought would be an awesome reunion. Sorry, Mum, Dad, the stuff I told you at the airport wasn’t strictly true. This wasn’t me just trying to get my divorced parents back on friendly terms…’
‘Ah, so you’re divorced,’ Zara’s dad said, with a hint of triumph. ‘We’re still married. Thirty years.’
Fricking hell, this had turned into some kind of warped competition.
Aiden ploughed on despite beginning to feel that he was sliding into the same quicksand as Zara. ‘Like Zara and Millie, I figured you were all old friends who’d lost touch over the years, and this would be a really cool thing. I’m sensing not.’
‘Definitely not,’ his dad countered. ‘And, son, next time you want to plan any kind of surprise for me – anything at all – do me a favour and ask me first.’
‘Copy that,’ he retorted. An excruciating silence descended again and Aiden wondered if he should just call a halt to this, usher his mum and dad out of here, then make a run for it, but he felt so sorry for Zara that he waited for her to take the lead.
‘I’m sorry. To you all. Obviously, there are things in play here, a history that we don’t know anything about.’
‘That’s okay, love,’ her dad said, and Aiden saw the relief cross her face. Just those three words changed Aiden’s opinion of him. Going on the friction between the two fathers, he’d instinctively taken his dad’s side, but he wasn’t sure why – it wasn’t like Gary had a solid history of wise choices and good decisions. Maybe there was at least 50/50 culpability here. It would help if one of the older generation actually took a shot at explaining what had happened between them.
Millie was obviously having the same thought process, because she signalled to the relieved waiter. ‘Can we have a round of drinks please? Whatever they were already drinking and add on three gin and tonics and a beer – any kind – for us.’ The waiter was about to retreat gracefully when she added, ’And do you have any snacks? Pretzels? Chips? Anything at all. My hangover is about to break me and I can’t do this on an empty stomach.’
‘I’ll bring an assortment of breads.’
‘Yes!!!! You’re a god and I want to have your babies.’
Aiden got the feeling this wasn’t the usual customer conversation in a restaurant at the Bellagio. That’s probably why the waiter was smiling as he retreated.
The prospect of sustenance must have invigorated Millie, because she stepped up to the position of chief investigator. ‘Okay, clearly we’ve completely messed this whole thing up. How about we all sit down, take a breath, and try to sort this out. Now, we’ve told you how this little soiree came about and the good intentions – not to mention considerable expense that was behind it.’ She scanned the parents’ faces. ‘So… and I’m sorry about the language, Mum – but can one of you four please tell us what the actual fuck is going on?’
20
EILEEN
Eileen felt a pressure on her chest and wondered if a heart attack was imminent. If there were two people she thought she’d never see again as long as she was on this earth, it was Brenda and Colin. And for it all to play out in front of Aiden made it so much more embarrassing. The worst moments of her life, dragged from the past to the present, and held up in front of her for the people that mattered to see.
She thought about getting up to leave, but what would that accomplish? It was all going to come out one way or another. May as well stay here to see the show, even though she was the clown that messed it all up at the end.
For a moment, she wondered if Brenda would leave, but she didn’t, probably figuring the same thing – the lid was off the box and Pandora was about to spill her guts.
The Brenda that she saw in front of her wasn’t the one she’d known in the nineties. This woman was… strong. In control. In those days, they were just young women who thought about nothing much more than having a good time and making their wages from the Beat House last from one week to another. Even when Brenda had started nursing, Eileen was doing secretarial temping, and Colin got a job in the accounts department at the council, they’d still needed their club money to supplement their wages.
Colin… she barely recognised him. In his twenties, he’d been Michael J. Fox cute, with his little round specs and a great line in chat. Now he was a middle-aged man and only the kind face and the serial geekiness remained.
The first trip to Vegas had been Gary’s doing. The four of them were inseparable, so when he won a DJing contest organised by one of the big vodka brands, a transatlantic trip for two, with a guest gig at a Vegas club thrown in, they’d all chipped in to pay for the other two tickets so they could all come.
Yep, Gary had been a big deal. A bit of a local celebrity. He played in several clubs in Glasgow’s city centre, but always did a Friday and Saturday night in the Beat House, because his flatmate, Colin, worked there too. When the club closed in the early hours of the morning, they’d all head out to one of the all-night cafés, then pile back to the lads’ house, where they’d peel off into the two bedrooms and emerge again at noon the next day, ready to do it all again. It was the best of times. And it was all that had kept Eileen sane after her mum had passed away, suddenly and brutally at forty-two. Who’d been there for her? Brenda. Colin. And to an extent, Gary, but his priorities were always himself, his work, and the party. Some might say nothing had changed.
‘Well?’ That was Brenda’s daughter again, the younger, more bolshy one, reminding them that they were still waiting to hear the background to the story. Eileen didn’t want to be the one to tell it, but, well, maybe this was payback.
She took a breath, then exhaled, trying to steady the nerves that were making her hands shake, even though she’d tucked them under her thighs so the rest of the group wouldn’t see them.
‘The photo was taken on the day we arrived here. Thirty years ago yesterday, actually. I realised that last night. None of us had the money for that kind of holiday, but we came because Gary won a trip here, two tickets, and we all chipped in so the four of us could come.’
‘So youwerefriends?’ Zara asked, as if grasping at straws.
‘We were,’ Gary interjected. ‘And I was a DJ. A good one,’ he boasted. Eileen rolled her eyes as he went on, ‘I won those tickets in a national competition. First place. The prize was to come over here and play a gig in one of the clubs just off the Strip. Don’t even think it’ll be there now, but it was a big deal at the time,’ Gary emphasised, just in case everyone wasn’t aware of his former superstar status. Thirty years and he still thought it made him his generation’s equivalent of Fat Boy Slim and Calvin Harris rolled into one.
On the flight over Brenda and Eileen had been giddy. It was their first time out of the country, and it was Vegas! Even the loaded couple in Eileen’s street, the ones who’d won ten thousand pounds on the premium bonds, hadn’t been there yet.
When they’d arrived, they’d ditched their bags in their hotel, and then gone out sightseeing. They’d walked all the way up the Strip, following a map they’d picked up at hotel reception, and at the end, turned right and kept walking until they found the Vegas sign. It wasn’t hard to miss. There were lines of people queuing to get their pictures taken, but they’d been happy to wait their turn. Eileen could visualise the photo, could remember the moment it was taken, could recall the feeling of the heat on her skin, the excitement of being there, the love she felt for everyone she was with. Sometimes, over the years, she’d wondered if, with the exception of the birth of her son, that sunny Vegas day was her last moment of true contentment and bliss.
