Wicked had been brilliant, a glorious spectacle of a musical, and the cast had us captivated as they belted out the amazing show tunes. The wannabe performer in me wished I wasnt sitting in the plush gold velour seat how I longed to be up on that stage, the glaring white spotlight shining on me just as it had on a much smaller scale in that school hall during Guys and Dolls! Musicals have the power to transport me to another world, whisking me away from my mundane life. But as soon as the house lights came up in the auditorium a nervous niggle had started gnawing away at me. No matter how hard Id tried to push it to the back of my mind, I hadnt been able to shake it off.
I felt cold to the core as we walked down the venues sweeping stone steps and it wasnt just the December chill clawing away at my skin. It was something worse. Justin seemed as though he was holding back, his face hidden under the fur trim of his parka. His hand was loose around mine. He was distant. Barely there.
The rows of festive decorations strung out before us, a twinkling ladder across the sky. It was the only part of the image I correctly predicted, and we silently sauntered through the streets whilst revellers enjoying five-too-many Mad Friday beers fist-pumped the air as they sang along to Slades Christmas classic Merry Xmas Everybody at the top of their lungs. Looking back, wed been the odd ones out, Justin and I, sober in both body and spirit.
We reached the fountain, although it wasnt turned on because of the gusty weather, and sat near by. All the while Justin looked awkward. Fidgety. On edge. He took a deep breath, a visible cloud appearing from his mouth as he exhaled.
I swallowed uneasily. Something was up.
I wanted to speak to you, hed said finally. He had this funny lop-sided grin plastered on his face, unfamiliar even though Id been swooning at his smiles for a decade. He looked different, somehow, and for one brief moment Id laughed, convinced he was building up to asking the same question Id been preparing to ask him.
My stomach lurched with hopeful anticipation and I wondered if he might produce a ring. At the time, it had seemed entirely possible he might, but looking back everything about that night made me feel foolish.
Id been dreaming. Only momentarily, but a lot can happen in a moment. Id even wondered whether the hypothetical, mythical ring would be a square-cut solitaire like the one Id saved in the favourites folder on my laptop, or an antique hed picked up from one of the quirky antique shops on London Road or Sharrow Vale. Justin knew how I adored anything vintage.
Seconds later my world crashed down around me. I was dizzy, stunned, confused, and all it took was three little words.
Im going away.
Justin had looked excitedly out at me from beneath the safety of his hood, the weird enormous grin peering out as he waited for my response.
Id not understood what he meant at first; not known that those three words said it all.
What do you mean? Id stumbled finally. I genuinely didnt understand the statement.
He was going away, hed said brightly, heading to America for a year to work at the Chicago-based head office of the bank he was a slave to. He oozed gleeful delight, prattling on about how it was a wonderful opportunity and what an honour it was to be considered a suitable candidate. I could go with him, hed said, his puppy-dog eyes full of expectation.
I was so shocked I couldnt even formulate a simple sentence.
When? I managed eventually.
Hed proudly told me January 4th and that it was a year-long contract. Hed been specially selected by the Big Boss when the person theyd lined up for the role backed out due to ill health. That was why it was such short notice, he explained. Justin had been put forward as the best possible replacement, the opportunity a reward for the long hours hed been putting in recently. It was too good an offer to pass up, hed said, something he had to do now whilst he was young, before he was tied down by responsibilities and a family.
Id wanted to scream at that bit. He had a family here who loved him, his younger brother Benji worshipped the ground he walked on and aspired to be just like him. He had parents who doted on him and bought him everything he wanted, from designer clothes to a brand new car.
And me. He had me.
But Justin was radiant with excitement, unleashing all the joy hed obviously forced himself to suppress earlier in the evening. He hadnt said a word about America as hed slurped on the spag bol Id thrown together as a quick tea to line our stomachs, nor as hed tapped his fingers against the pint glass in the pub. Hed kept schtum in the theatre too, letting me believe everything was fine, when all the time hed been holding a bomb.
He rabbited on about head office and career progression, his tunnel vision blinding him to everything else. Id never felt more irrelevant. I wasnt even a Christmas cracker-sized spanner in the works. His mind was made up and that was that.
I cant just drop everything, I said, feeling a smidgeon of annoyance that he expected me to. I had my job at the school, for starters, I couldnt let them down by buggering off to the other side of the world. And then there were my dance classes, the ones I attended every Thursday night without fail. The six of us in the class had been dancing together since we were tots. They were my extended family, my safety net. I didnt want to leave them behind, but I didnt want to be without Justin either.
Its a great opportunity, hed repeated, the light in his eyes not dimming despite my lack of enthusiasm. For me and for you.
His hand had rested on mine and Id flinched. I didnt pull away, even though the last thing I wanted right then was for him to touch me. I just didnt have the energy to move.
Imagine it, Mon. Me and you in the big city, living the American dream. His eyes were alight with a passion he normally reserved for Saturdays when the Blades were playing at home. I knew, then, that he was going to go regardless. His mind was made up. Nothing I could say would change a thing.
I cant go, I said. And I dont want to. Its not my dream. Anyway, theres no way I could get on a plane and go all that way. Have you forgotten the melt down I had on the way back from Corfu?
I could tell by his expression that he had, but I hadnt. Wed suffered terrible turbulence and the pilots attempts at keeping his updates humorous and light hadnt reassured me in the slightest. Id ended up bent double, hunched in the brace position just in case, despite Justins instructions to breathe in and out of the sick bag to regulate my panicked gasps. Its safe to say me and aeroplanes dont mix.
Im sorry, Justin. But if you go to Chicago, youll be going alone.
Hed looked guilty then. He was going to America with or without me.
As we sat on the cold stone borders that flanked the segments of grass in the gardens, I couldnt believe Id ever thought this would be the most romantic night of my life. A bitter, biting wind whipped through the open space, an invisible slap in the face to accompany the sucker punch my gut had just taken.
Worst of all, everyone around us had been full of festive spirit, carrying on as though nothing had changed, whilst for me everything was about to change irrevocably. I wanted to shout, to kick up a stink right there in the middle of town, but my body didnt feel like my own. It was a terrible dream and I watched on helplessly as it played out around me.
Id hoped youd come with me. I thought itd be an adventure for us both.
I shook my head. I just cant.
Hed looked crestfallen, the joy hed had earlier evaporating out of him into the dark winter night. Its not the end for us though, is it? Loads of couples make long distance work. And the worlds a smaller place these days, thats what they say It was as though he was trying to convince himself.
I suppose theres always Skype I said half-heartedly.
I couldnt imagine not being able to physically feel him. Wed always been one of those touchy-feely couples, the kind that makes everyone feel a bit uncomfortable. Our constant public displays of affection were legendary, but you cant touch someone through a computer screen. You cant hold them or kiss them or make wild, passionate love to them. Thered be no substitute for having Justin here with me.
We can make this work, hed said, his voice full of a false yet hopeful confidence. If anyone can, we can.
But even then, I wasnt sure.
*
Hed left, just as hed planned to, on the day wed started back at school after Christmas break. Id been assisting the more able children, helping them write sentences about the gifts Santa had left under their tree while he was on a cross-country train over the Pennines to Manchester Airport, ready to start a whole new life on a whole other landmass.
That was the weirdest part of it all. I was still in Sheffield, with the same job and the same friends and the same bedroom in the same house; but with an empty chest of drawers sitting hollow in the corner instead of filled with a selection of Lynx aftershaves hed been bought for his birthday by some well-meaning aunt and every Sheffield United kit from the last ten years.
Im sure that outwardly I looked much the same as ever a twenty-five-year-old woman of average height and naturally athletic build with a fluffy mass of unruly dark blonde curls but inside I felt as empty as those drawers. Id hoped that by forcing myself to raise a smile Id fool people into believing I was fine. But I wasnt fine, deep down. Deep down I was breaking.
*
I still have a photo of me and Justin together on my dressing table, in a heart-shaped wooden frame. It was taken at a charity ball the summer before he went away. In it Im staring up at Justin, whos stood almost a whole foot taller than me and my face looks like it might split right in two because Im grinning that hard.
I cant remember the last time I smiled like that. As much as I try to show the world Im the same positive, smiley Mon Ive always been, its not my face splitting in two any more. Its my heart.
Chapter One
Friday 9th September
*Frozen My choice*
Ive been waiting for this all day. Issy sighs with audible relief as the ruby-red Merlot sloshes into the glass. Honestly, I cant tell you how ready I am. In fact, Im more than ready. Im a woman in need, she adds dramatically.
Only all day? I reply with a laugh. Then youre a stronger woman than I am, Isadora Jackson. Ive been waiting all week.
My blonde curls bounce wildly. People say they look like a halo, but although Im a good girl, Im certainly no angel.
Seriously, I continue, the only thing thats got me through the madness that is reception class during the first week in September is the thought of wine o clock. Weve had so many children crying when their parents leave, the noise in that classroom is phenomenal. Phenomenal! Thank your lucky stars that the kids you teach are past that.
Issy gulps her wine, raising her eyebrows in a challenge of disagreement. I know that look. Its the one that says whenever anyone plays the I work in the most difficult age group card, Issys going to take that card and trump it.
Teaching Year 6 isnt a bundle of laughs, you know. All those raging hormones and that snarky pre-teen attitude She visibly shudders. Can you believe I had Ellie Watts in tears this lunchtime because Noah Cornall dumped her? Theyre only ten! And the bitching and backbiting that goes on Ive not seen anything like it. Its the Big Brother house, but worse. How many weeks to go until half term?
Another seven. I pull a face, unable to believe Im already counting down to the holidays. The six-week summer break had worked its usual miracle of helping me forget how exhausting it is working in a primary school and although Id not exactly been jumping out of bed with delight when the alarm went off at 6.15 on Monday morning, Id felt a quiet positivity about the year ahead. Theres something special about getting to know a new set of kids, and there had even been rumours of new furniture for the reception classroom. Heaven knows, the tables need replacing. Years of felt-tip pens being carelessly smudged over their surface meant their glory days were well in the past. But just one week in four days, actually, if you discount the staff training day and Im already totally drained of energy, as I always am during term time. People at work say Im bubbly and bouncy and full of beans, but thats because I raise my game. How anyone who works with children finds the time for a social life, Ill never know. When Friday finally rolls around, all I want to do is climb into my onesie and sleep for a week.
My class need to be the small fishes again, Issy says with a sage nod. Its always the same with the oldest in the school. They get ahead of themselves. Too big for their lets-get-one-size-larger-so-you-can-grow-into-them Doc Martens. Issy looks so serious, which naturally makes me want to giggle. Theyll be the ones in tears when they start at secondary school next year, just like your little angels in reception have been this time. Itll knock them down a peg or two.
Itll get easier, it always does.
I know Issy thinks Im being over-optimistic, but I cant help it. What can I say? Im one of those people who naturally looks on the bright side of life, except when it comes to Justin. But thats no surprise, given that hed gone from we can make long distance work in December to perhaps we should take a break not split up, but accept long distance doesnt work for us in January. I think Ive every right to feel bitter. Im living in this weird love-life limbo.
Youll be fine when they get to trust you, I assure her. You said exactly the same about your last lot. Remember Billy Rush? You were convinced hed turn you grey, and look, your hairs exactly the same murky shade its always been, I say with nothing but innocence.
Hey, watch it you! My hairs not murky. Its salted caramel, Issy replies, defensively stroking the thick, straight locks that tumble down past her shoulders. How she manages to look glamorous, even in her mint-green fleecy Primark pyjamas, Ill never know. Shes one of those naturally well-groomed people whose skin always looks fresh and eyes bright, even when shes tired or has a stinking hangover. Its infuriating.
Yeah, right. Whatever you say. Salted caramel. Is that what they call it at the hairdressers?