Instead I scraped together what little savings I had left and booked a train ticket up north and a room at a Holiday Inn so I could see Mum.
To be fair to the care home, they’d made a huge effort to make the place look happy and cheery but the sight of old people dribbling their Christmas puddings down their chins and carers in snowman earrings carrying bedpans along the corridors made me feel sad. Mum was having a lucid period – she didn’t lapse once in the whole four hours I was there but instead of feeling pleased I was heartbroken. She kept bursting into tears, begging me to take her back to her house, saying how much she missed Dad. I did the best I could to console her, hugging her tightly, combing her hair, telling her about my engagement in Prague and looking through old photo albums but how can you cheer up someone who tells you they wish they were dead. I offered to move back to York so I could visit her more often but she wouldn’t have it – ‘I’ve lived my life,’ she said, ‘and I followed my dreams and it’s time you did the same. I’m pleased you’ve found love and a job you adore, Susan. All Dad and I ever wanted was for you to be happy.’
On Boxing Day I went to Dad’s grave to lay some flowers. It broke my heart seeing his plot so overgrown and uncared for – Mum used to tend to it once a week until she got ill – so I pulled out as many weeds as I could by hand and borrowed a pair of shears from the groundsman so I could trim the grass. I talked to Dad when I was doing it – asked him to look after Mum when I couldn’t, told him how much we both loved him and cried when I said I didn’t want anyone but him to give me away at my wedding.
I returned home yesterday and found a message on my answerphone from the bed people saying that due to a problem with supply they wouldn’t be able to deliver my new bed until after the new year! James and I had already chucked my bed and mattress out before Christmas so, when he came round with my presents on the twenty-eighth we ended up sleeping on blankets on the floor.
The next morning I got up to make us coffee and a fried breakfast and James pottered about, flicking through my magazines and picking through my vinyl. He honed in on my sewing machine table. It’s an antique, one hundred per cent oak and beautifully made. He ran a finger over the polished wood.
‘Where’d you get this?’
‘My parents gave it to me for my twenty-first.’
‘Lovely.’
He carried on along the wall, running his hand over the few pieces of furniture I’ve got.
‘And this?’ He stopped at my writing desk.
‘I picked it up in a flea market. It was only thirty pounds.’
‘Nice.’
I froze as his fingers strummed on the wood. If he opened it he’d find—
‘What’s this?’ He held the grey rabbit soft toy by one ear, dangling it from his fingers. ‘You’ve never struck me as the cuddly toy sort.’
‘It’s … it was … a … a present from Hels.’
‘A female friend bought you a soft toy?’ My cheeks grew hot as he scrutinized my face. ‘That’s a little unusual. Are you sure it’s not from an old boyfriend?’
‘’Course not,’ I said lightly. ‘Hels um, bought it for me as a joke. She used to call me Bunny when we worked together because, um, because I wouldn’t sit still. I was always bouncing excitedly all over the room.’
‘Bunny?’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘You?’
‘Yes.’ The name and the description were true but Hels wasn’t the one who’d given me the nickname or the toy. It was Nathan. I’d grown attached to that little rabbit while we were together and held onto it, as well as a couple of other things he’d given me, after we split up.
‘Why are you sweating, Suzy-Sue?’ James took a step towards me, the rabbit outstretched. ‘You’re not lying to me, are you?’
‘No, of course not.’ I ran the back of my hand over my damp brow. ‘It’s these eggs.’ I jabbed at the burnt offering in the frying pan. ‘They’re spitting like mad.’
My voice had taken on a strange sing-song character that sounded foreign to my ears. I bent down, ostensibly to check the bacon but actually to avoid James’s eyes then squealed as he wrapped a hand around my waist and pulled me into him, pressing my buttocks into his crotch.
‘You scared me.’ I set the grill pan on the side and, still with his arms wrapped around me, spooned the bacon and eggs onto two plates.
‘And you scare me,’ James whispered in my ear. ‘Because sometimes I wonder how in love with me you really are.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Blood pounded in my ears. ‘You know how much I love you.’
‘Really? Because I’d be very hurt if I found out that you were lying to me, Suzy. If you were secretly keeping love tokens from past boyfriends when you know how much that sort of thing hurts me.’
I reached into the cupboard for the ketchup. ‘The bunny is from Hels. I told you.’
‘And she’d verify that if I called her up, would she?’
‘Of course she would. Ring her now if you like.’ I inclined my head towards the phone on the other side of the room, desperately hoping he wouldn’t see through my bluff.
He laughed loudly. ‘As if I’d talk to that boring cow about a teddy!’ He turned me to face him, pressed the soft toy against my cheek. ‘You don’t have feelings towards this stupid thing, do you?’
I shook my head.
‘Good,’ he said then launched the toy into the air. It flew in an arc across the room, sailed out of the open window and landed in the road outside.
He kissed me on the lips. ‘Is breakfast ready? I could eat a horse.’
Two hours later, after he’d gone, I went through everything I own and threw away everything I’ve ever been given, or that reminded me, of an ex-boyfriend – photos, letters, postcards, jewellery, books and vinyl. I even sold the vintage Chanel handbag that Nathan bought me for Christmas one year.
Now I’ll never have to lie to James again.
Chapter 15