A Funny Thing About Love (33 page)

Finally the procession set off, to the accompaniment of the drums. The streets were packed with people watching, and the city had an air of carnival about it, accentuated by the Christmas lights strung across the streets. Even the weird and wonderful Pavilion, with its cream-coloured towers like a maharajah's palace, was overshadowed by the procession, the lanterns bobbing around like enormous fireflies, the puppets held aloft, moving their arms as if they were orchestrating the event.

‘Bit different from how you'd usually spend a
Thursday night with your media friends in London I imagine, Carmen?' Violet remarked as she walked beside her. Carmen, who wanted to prepare herself for talking to Daniel, could really do without Violet needling her.

‘Yes, usually I'd be hoovering up cocaine while drinking champagne out of a crystal-studded Louboutin and eating the meat of some endangered species.' She paused. ‘Violet, I know why you dislike me so much.'

Violet gave her a wide-eyed startled-fawn look of surprise, which Carmen did not buy, and didn't answer as Daniel rejoined them. He was wearing a black fake-fur hat with ear flaps. Any other man would have looked ridiculous. Daniel as usual looked beautiful, striking, like a hunter.

‘Look, Carmen, your favourite shoe shop,' Millie said excitedly as they made their way past Kurt Geiger. Yes, even in the short time she had known Millie she had managed to instil a love of shoes in the little girl. Perhaps that was how she could remember her: the woman who couldn't give Daddy what he really wanted but had lovely shoes. And on the procession went into East Street, a narrow road which led to the sea, usually a magnet for shoppers, but now it was the shops which looked out of place against the lanterns. Shoes and beautiful clothes would not save her, would not save anyone. Bloody hell, she was getting maudlin, it must be the brandy. The drumming seemed to get louder, more insistent, as the procession filed across the main seafront road and on to the promenade. Brighton Pier, with its neon lights flashing on and off, looked particularly garish.
The sea was an inky black, perfectly calm, the lights of the pier reflecting on it in pools of gold.

‘I am so glad that you went to that workshop,' Daniel told her, as he reached out and held her hand. ‘You've been the best thing to happen to me and Millie in such a long time. Millie has already said that she wants to spend Christmas with you next year.'

He smiled at her, and Carmen thought she would shatter as she forced herself to smile back. ‘I'm so glad too.' And then, because she knew the truth was going to hurt, added, ‘Even if I did ruin my leather jacket, it was worth it. And as it was Alexander McQueen, that is really saying something.' If in doubt go for the cheap gag, make them laugh, because you know that tears are just around the corner, or at the end of Madeira Drive, to be precise.

The procession was now reaching its climax where there would be a huge bonfire on the beach and all the lanterns would be burnt, culminating in a firework display. As they drew closer to the final destination there came the sound of a woman humming, a noise which seemed to hang in the night.

‘Daddy,' Millie piped up, ‘I don't want to burn my lantern, please can I keep it?' She clutched it tightly, as if fearing it would be forcibly taken from her.

‘But you won't be able to make your wish,' Violet said. For a woman with two children, Violet could be breathtakingly insensitive.

Millie looked upset. ‘But I need to make my wish that Mummy comes back.'

‘Well, you'll have to hand your lantern over,' Violet persisted. ‘Only that way can you make a wish, that's the whole point of making it.'

‘You can have mine,' Carmen told Millie. ‘Keep your lantern.'

‘But what about your wish?' Millie asked her anxiously.

‘Carmen can wish on mine,' Daniel told her.
Oh Daniel, if only you knew, I have used up all my wishes
, Carmen thought as she gave her lantern to the little girl and watched her hand it to the line of people passing the lanterns on to the bonfire.

‘Come on.' Daniel took her hand and Millie's and led them to the edge of the barrier from where they would get a good view of the fireworks. The music seemed to get louder, now the humming had been joined by the plaintive tones of a cello. In front of the bonfire was an enormous paper sculpture of a queen. Her arms were stretched out as if in welcome. Carmen realised that the queen was also on fire, a slow, controlled fire, from inside the structure, turning her white skirt a vivid orange. As the flames took hold she seemed to sway as if dancing. It was a powerful image against the black of the sky and the black of the sea. Carmen found herself offering a silent prayer to the burning queen.
Help me do this thing; help me let go of the past. And help my friend Jess
. The fire around the queen grew more intense; it wouldn't be long before she was consumed by the flames. Behind her the bonfire had been lit, yellow and orange flames leaped out, reaching up to the black sky.

‘Did you invest my lantern with your hopes and wishes?' Daniel asked her, ducking his head down so she could hear him over the music. He was clearly expecting a lighthearted response from her by the way he smiled, a quip from Comedy Carmen. She took a moment to take in his beautiful face, his warm eyes, his lips which she adored kissing.
I really can't bear to lose him
, she thought.

‘I did. I hoped that Jess would be okay.'

It was true, but she was putting off the moment.
Now
,
tell him now
, the music seemed to implore her. The queen shifted in the fire, her arms seeming to stretch in supplication as the flames licked around her.

‘I made a wish too,' Daniel replied. His face was so close to hers she could feel his warm breath, felt the slight graze of his stubble on her cheek, cold in the December air.

‘Do you want to know what it was?'

‘Shouldn't you keep it a secret?'

‘Not this – it only has a chance if I'm honest. So here goes. I wished you would stay in Brighton, because I've fallen in love with you.'

‘You love me?' Carmen asked. ‘Really?' She was stunned by the revelation, absolutely had not seen it coming.

‘Really.' Daniel smiled at her. Then he took off the ridiculous fur hat. Gone was the long hair, in its place short hair, cut close to his head. If possible he looked even more beautiful than before, as all focus was now on his face, those features, those deep brown eyes. ‘I know you prefer short hair, so I did it for you.'

This should have been a perfect moment and Carmen was greedy to hold on to it as she put her hand to his face, stood on tiptoes and kissed him. But it was a kiss that felt as if it was under false pretences. ‘There's something I have to tell you and I don't want to tell you, but I have to.'

Daniel smiled at her. ‘Well, I know your divorce hasn't come through yet, nor has mine, but they will, so that's okay.'

She shook her head. ‘It's not that.'

Daniel shrugged. ‘What, then? What could be so bad? That you don't want to go to the allotment any more? You don't have to, I know you don't really enjoy it. That you're sick of eating vegetarian food? I'll cook you some meat if you like, so long as it's organic.'

It crossed Carmen's mind that Daniel was just as afraid of hearing what she had to say as she was of saying it.

She shook her head. ‘No to all of those. The thing I have to tell you is a big thing. A really big thing.' Oh God, did she have to go ahead and say this? But she knew she had to. ‘I can't have children. And I have to tell you because I know you want to have them, and if that's a problem I need to know now.'

A pause, everything hung in the balance, everything depended on his answer. Daniel frowned. ‘I didn't mean to freak you out the other night; I just wanted you to know how I felt about children. But we don't have to have a baby yet, I know it's early days.'

Carmen felt cold despair grip her. ‘It's not about timing. I can't have them. It's not that I don't want
them because I do, more than anything else, but I physically can't have them. I have tried everything and couldn't. And it wasn't my husband, it was me.'

Daniel didn't say anything, just looked at her, a look which she couldn't fathom.

And then further conversation was made impossible by fireworks exploding over the beach. Millie squealed with delight and demanded to be given a piggyback so she could better see the elaborate showers of green and blue, the gold and silver fireworks that bloomed like giant flowers in the sky, jets of white glittering sparkles, silver and gold spirals. How hopeful and optimistic the fireworks seemed, blazing away in the darkness. And then nothing, just smoke and the smell of gunpowder. The darkness was always going to win.

Carmen felt numb. She had done what she had set out to do. It was obvious, Daniel wouldn't want her now – the reject, the defective – and who could blame him? Their romance had been as short and intense as the fireworks, but it was over.

But then, after Millie had slid off his back he turned to her and said, ‘What you've told me doesn't make any difference. I love you, Carmen.' There was an urgency to his voice. Carmen so wanted to believe him. Maybe everything would be alright. A tiny spark of hope ignited within her. She had told him the truth and he had said that he loved her. A thought which burned brighter than any of the fireworks . . .

Christmas Eve. Carmen was on the train headed for London and Marcus. She'd said goodbye to Daniel and Millie the day before. Imogen still hadn't said if she was coming back or not. Daniel suspected not and had wanted Carmen to come with them, but Carmen felt she couldn't let Marcus down. Leo was spending it with his daughter and his parents who were not accepting of Marcus as his partner. There had been no more talk about her revelation. She was on tenterhooks, analysing Daniel's every expression and the way he spoke to her to see if anything had changed between them, any shift that she could detect. But there was none. Could Daniel have truly meant what he said? That he didn't mind? It seemed too wonderful to believe, too good to be true. Carmen did not trust things that seemed too good to be true.

The train was packed with people travelling home for Christmas. Everyone was in good spirits. Carmen tried to share in it; it was after all a novelty to be on a train where people actually looked happy. Her usual experience of train travel was that every man and woman wanted to be an island, reading their papers, working on their laptops, drinking coffee or clipping
their fingernails, and pretending that no one else was in the carriage with them.

She was lost in thought when her mobile rang. It was Sean. ‘I just needed to let you know that Jess went to a clinic in Hertfordshire this morning. She especially wanted me to say sorry to you. It will be a while before she can have any visitors except me and I know she feels terrible about the things she said to you. She didn't mean them, Carmen.' The sweet relief of hearing that. Carmen now had a smile to match anyone's in the carriage.

‘Tell her it's forgiven and forgotten; all I want is for her to get better. And send her all my love, Sean.'

They talked briefly about Jess's treatment. She would have to spend a month in rehab, with a week drying out and then intensive therapy following the twelve-step programme. Carmen knew that Jess was at the beginning of what would be a long and difficult road to recovery, but at last her friend was on it. As they ended the call and Carmen looked out at fields white and brittle with frost, she reflected that one of her wishes from the Burning of the Clocks had come true.

Victoria Station was heaving. The station forecourt was adorned with a very large Christmas tree, decorated with blue and silver lights, actually quite tasteful, and a Salvation Army band was singing ‘Oh Little Town of Bethlehem'. Now it just needed to be snowing and it would be a perfect Richard Curtis film set. Mind you, Carmen thought, as she struggled towards the exit
with her suitcase, a character from one of his films would not be getting the number 38 bus, but she had blown December's budget on presents and so could not get a taxi.

‘So, champagne or some kind of festive punch which Sadie has concocted, which believe me has one hell of a kick?' Marcus demanded as soon as he opened the door to her. ‘Let the festivities for the dysfunctional family begin!' Carmen was too excited about Daniel's saying he loved her and Jess's news to notice that Marcus looked exhausted.

‘Both! I have to celebrate,' Carmen said, whirling into the flat, hugging Marcus and Sadie in succession. At last she was going to have a Christmas where she could be happy and not weighed down with the blues, where she would be drinking out of joy and not to escape.

Marcus and Sadie looked at her expectantly.

‘Daniel said he loved me and Jess is going into rehab!'

‘A declaration of love from skater boy, well, well,' Marcus said, handing her two glasses. Carmen was too excited to consider the possible irony that she was toasting Jess going into rehab by drinking to excess. She took a sip of punch, so strong that it nearly blew her head off, followed by a sip of bubbles to redress the balance.

Marcus carried on, ‘I thought he would be the kind who would never give it up. Who said it first?'

‘He did,' Carmen replied. ‘And I even told him about
not being able to have children. Don't you think that's brilliant?' She flashed a hundred-megawatt smile worthy of Julia Roberts.

‘It's fabulous,' Sadie replied, giving Carmen another hug. She looked meaningfully at Marcus. ‘Isn't it, Marcus?'

‘If that's what you want, Carmen, then I'm happy for you.' Marcus didn't look happy.

Why was he raining on her parade? The hundred-megawatt smile disappeared from Carmen's face.

‘I think it's early days and don't want you to get hurt, is all. You have only just met the man. No other reason. Now come on, it's Christmas Eve. And I've got an announcement of my own. You are looking at the man behind Neon Tiger, which is going to be half TV production company, half agency. Will is going to join as executive producer. And one of our first pitches is going to be a comedy drama by an up-and-coming writer, who we just happen to think has a hit on her hands. Yes, I mean you, Carmen! So you'd better pull your lovestruck finger out, because after Christmas you have a month to finish. And then I want you to help me set up the company, maybe even be a shareholder.'