Stan said time and time again that this was going to be great for Georgie, and she’d be delighted to have her independence and financial security, but looking at her now, Jessie wasn’t so sure.
While Grant poured champagne for them and regaled Cathy and Val with tales of sitting next to Lewis Capaldi on the flight up here, she slipped her arm around Georgie’s waist and whispered, ‘Are you okay, ma love?’
‘I’m fine, Mum.’
Jessie almost believed her. Almost. Something was definitely bothering her daughter and it could only be that Jessie was leaving. Unless it was that bloody Flynn. She was well aware that her son-in-law knew he’d royally messed up and would give anything for Georgie to take him back. Much as she’d always had a soft spot for the son-in-law she’d known since he was a teenager, Jessie had no intention of intervening or giving her opinion. It had always been her stance that where marriages, relationships and tender hearts were involved, sometimes it was best to keep her mouth shut and let things play out.
Georgie got out of the scrutiny by getting to work. ‘Right, Aunt Cathy, you’re with me – let’s get you up to the basins and get you started with your rinse.’
Grant followed suit. ‘And Val, you hit the jackpot. Fresh from my glittering, critically acclaimed salon in London, where I coiffure the heads of some of the nation’s biggest names, I’m going to grab a roller tray and get started on your bouffant.’ He then added with mock weariness, ‘I’ve no idea how my life came to this,’ incurring a nudge in the ribs from Val.
‘Mum, I’ll be back for you as soon as I’ve got Aunt Cathy’s colour on. You just put your feet up…’ Georgie wheeled a footstool over from the nearest station, and propped it under Jessie’s moon boots. ‘And enjoy your champagne. Here’s those Lindt balls that you love…’ With a flourish, she produced a bowl of Jessie’s favourite chocolates from behind the desk, and put them on her lap. ‘And I’ll put a bit of Boyzone on the music system for you.’
Jessie gave a grateful, contented sigh. ‘This is what I always imagined heaven was like.’
As the others all went off to the basin area at the back of the salon, Jessie unwrapped a Lindt truffle and popped it in her mouth, before closing her eyes and resting her head on thefreshly painted cream wall. This was what retirement should be. The bliss of relaxing with her pals. Of being around the people she loved. Of doing a bit of… what was it the young ones called it? Self care. Yep, that was it. And maybe it was the champagne going straight to her head, but somehow, the voice that she’d been ignoring for weeks and months seemed to have mustered the courage to demand that it be heard.
I don’t want to go.
And then the acknowledgement made it bolder, and it repeated even louder this time…
I don’t want to go.
She felt two tears squeeze out of her closed lids and hastily wiped them away.
I don’t want to go.
But how could she not? Everything was arranged, packed, sorted. The For Sale sign was probably being erected outside her house as she sat there. If that bloody snow let up, then her whole world was gathering tonight for a birthday-slash-retirement-slash-going away party. And all of that didn’t even come close to the most important factor of all – Stan had his heart set on this. He’d been planning this for years, counting down the days, and she couldn’t just pull the rug out from under his golf shoes – not after forty-odd years of marriage. They’d had a partnership that had ebbed and flowed, like all relationships, but they’d stuck it out because at the core of their bond they had love, they had friendship, and they had loyalty.
The voice in her head popped back in, and now it was getting way too argumentative.
Is that right, Jessie? Did you really have all those things?
Now that it was emboldened, Jessie knew that no amount of Lindt chocolate was going to quieten the internal monologue, because it wasn’t wrong. Love and friendship? Yes. But loyalty?
The sight of Dorinda Canavan’s smug face this morning replayed in her mind. Maybe she needed to face the truth on that loyalty thing. Maybe now that it was crunch time, her stance of keeping her mouth shut and letting things play out wasn’t the best way to deal with life after all.
‘You look deep in thought there, doll,’ Val interrupted her, and when Jessie opened her eyes, she watched her pal, wet hair in an elaborate pink turban, plonk herself down on the chair next to her, pick up a magazine from the table beside her and begin flicking through it.
‘I was.’
Now or never. Say it, don’t say it. Pick that scab or leave it alone? The voice was yelling,Do it.
‘You know Val, in all the years, we’ve never discussed this. But I think the time has come.’
Val didn’t even look up from her magazine as her computer-grade brain rewound to possible explanations for the demand. ‘No, I didn’t nick the puffball skirt off your washing line in 1982, and yes, the Bay City Rollers were the best band of our lifetime. Although they could only worship at the temple of the god that is Tom Jones.’
Jessie was at a loss at to how to respond for a second. Val’s mind truly did work in mysterious ways. As the pause stretched, Val finally lifted her gaze.
‘Sorry. Did I miss the topic there?’
Jessie tried to smile, but her facial muscles weren’t responding. This was the first time she was about to say this out loud. And once it was out, there was no taking it back. It would exist. Maybe only as a conversation that would never be repeated, but it would still be there.
But right now, she didn’t have a choice. Because if she was about to give up everything she loved and turn the rest of her lifeover to one person, then she had to know that person was deserving of it.
Jessie took a deep breath, exhaled, braced herself.
‘I need you to tell me everything you know about what happened between my Stan and Dorinda Canavan.’
