Learning to Dance Again (5 page)

‘Shall I?’ Marianne said.

‘Pl
ease! I really don’t want to speak to anyone else right now.’

Marianne picked up t
he phone while Julia walked to the front door and opened it. Julia stepped out onto the decking, and made her way to the bench in front of the house. It was sunny, but the early morning sun hadn’t warmed the air yet, and she shivered as the cool breeze penetrated her thin shirt. She thought about the last conversation she had had with Duncan, and his desire to go to Sicily. She wished she could be there right now with him, sitting in the morning sun together, planning a day of exploration. She looked at her watch; this time yesterday Duncan had still been alive and had not long left for school.

She felt her chest tighten
; the raw physical pain of grief made it difficult to breathe deeply. She gripped the wooden armrest of the bench and shut her eyes.

‘Ah, there you are.’ Marianne said
, as she walked over and sat down next to her. ‘You OK?’

Julia nodded. ‘Just thinking.’

‘That was Morag. Not good news… Alice has just passed away. She was still sleeping when they went into her first thing this morning, so they didn’t wake her up for breakfast. Morag just went in to see her a few minutes ago and she had gone. I’m sorry Julia. Really, this is all too much for you.’

Julia shut her eyes and covered her face with her hands and remained silent for a moment before sighing and standing up.

‘Do they want me to go in?’

‘No, don’t be silly. You’ve got enough on your plate at the moment.
Plenty of time to sort things out later. ’

‘Poor Alice; she was
all on her own.’

‘She was asleep! Can’
t think of a better way to go myself.’

‘I’m glad it was today and not yesterday anyway. At least Duncan
never knew. Jesus – what else is going to happen?’

‘Nothing! Not
hing’s going to happen. Come inside, you’re freezing.’ Marianne said, taking Julia’s arm and leading her indoors.

6

A few weeks after the joint funeral took place for Duncan and Alice, Julia found herself alone in the house. Jamie had flown over to Barbados to do a course in diving medicine. He had rung her the previous evening from the beach, where he had been waiting for the induction to start. Julia had detected an undercurrent of excitement in his voice which he struggled to cover up. She had pleaded with him to stop feeling guilty about having a good time and made him promise to email lots of photographs.

Bryden
was back in Edinburgh, having returned to finish his exams. He had taken Duncan’s car with him, along with his father’s golf clubs. Julia had been pleased to see the back of the car, as every time she had seen the silver Ford Focus out on the drive she had been reminded of the last time she watched Duncan driving it away.

However, this
had caused something of an argument between the boys. Clearly Bryden needed a car more than Jamie did, as Bryden would be starting a new job in August, at a school seven miles away from where he currently lived. Jamie shared a large flat opposite the hospital and had no need of a car; but he was the oldest son, and that made him think he should have had the first refusal.

Julia knew
her sons were acting out of character. With only eighteen months between them in age, they were normally very close, but Duncan’s sudden death had knocked the stuffing out of them, and they had taken to bickering over silly things. They had also taken to ringing Julia every day, which was lovely; but it also made her feel as if they were doing it out of duty, rather than because they had anything they really wanted to talk about.

Despite Julia’s misery, the summer raced
by; the darkness of her mood punctuated by the light relief provided from time to time by her friends and her sons. In August Bryden started his probationary year as a maths teacher at a high school and he moved in with his new girlfriend, Anna. And although it seemed a little premature in their relationship, Julia understood his need to have someone close to him on a permanent basis.

Her financial situation had improved a little. He
r meagre savings, which had been depleted by the cost of two funerals, had been bolstered by Duncan’s life assurance and widow’s pension. She was not wealthy by any means, but she did not need to rush back to work.

She managed to hold it together
most of the time, while people were visiting, or when anyone rang her, but she was conscious she was sinking deeper and deeper into depression. Sometimes she tried to do something about it. She would cook something healthy and distract herself with a book or a film, or make a particular effort to go out for a walk. But some days she barely ate anything and didn’t move from the sofa. She didn’t always get dressed or take a shower. She couldn’t remember the last time she had put on make-up or perfume or tried to look presentable. Her hair had grown longer, but it was greyer and what remained of her blonde highlights was parched and frizzy.

On a dreary day in mid-September Julia was lying on the sofa in the middle of the afternoon wearing pyjamas and one of Duncan’s sweatshirts when the front door opened. Marianne walked in followed by a young woman Julia didn’t recognise.

‘This is Vaila Anderson, s
he’s just finished her hairdressing training in Inverness, and she’s come along to do your hair.’ Marianne said brusquely to Julia, inviting no argument.

‘I don’t need my hair doing; it’s fine as it is.’ Julia said, not moving from the sofa.
She didn’t smile, or do anything to welcome her visitors.

‘It looks like a bale of hay from where I’m standing.’

‘So what; it’s not like I’m going anywhere.’

‘Maybe not. But it might make you feel a bit better.’

‘How?’ Julia replied sharply. ‘How is getting my hair done going to make everything all tickety boo again?’ She sat up sharply and hugged a cushion to her stomach, as if she was in pain.

‘Well, maybe it will just make me feel better. C
ome on, please let Vaila do your hair. She’s really good. She’s just started her own mobile business.’

Julia frowned
at Vaila, who stood behind Marianne looking as if she wished the ground would swallow her up. Julia remembered her manners at last.

‘OK then. But c
an I at least go up and have a shower first.’

‘Um, actually, your hair needs to be dry
to do the colour. Maybe you could have a shower afterwards.’ Vaila said, as she unzipped a large canvas holdall.

‘I’ll just take this sweatshirt off then. I don’t want anything to spill on it. It was my husband’s.’

‘And I’ll go and put the kettle on and make us some tea.’ Marianne said, barely disguising the triumph in her voice.

Vaila invited
Julia to sit at a chair in the kitchen. She took out a long black gown from her bag and fastened it around Julia’s shoulders. She started to comb through Julia’s hair which took some effort as it was tangled and uncooperative. All the while Marianne and Vaila kept up a bright commentary on local gossip, and cheerful banter. Julia listened, but did not make any attempt to join in.

‘How do you normally style your hair?’ Vaila asked Julia.

Julia squinted into the stand-up mirror Vaila had placed in front of her on the table.

‘She normally has a lovely neat little bob; quite short.’ Marianne replied, seeing as Julia seemed to have lost
the use of her tongue.

‘Oh, I was just thinking
this long length was quite flattering. It really just needs the ends trimming and the colour doing, and perhaps some conditioning. It’s a bit dry.’

‘Yeah, you’re right, it would look nice
longer. What do you think Jules?’

Julia shrugged.

‘I’ll just keep it long then shall I?’ Vaila said, looking to both Marianne and Julia for approval.

Julia nod
ded, although she really could not care less.

Two hours later
, after Vaila had transformed her hair, Julia went upstairs to change, and came down a few minutes later wearing jeans and a pink tee shirt, looking self-conscious.

‘You look lovely
now,’ Marianne said warmly, ‘but my God you’ve lost some weight.’

‘I always wanted to; but maybe not like this.’
Julia lifted up the hem of her tee shirt and revealed the waistband of her jeans that were now two sizes too big.

‘No; it’s
too much, you need to eat more; you’re looking scrawny. We can’t get away with it at our age, it’s much too aging.’

Vaila had packed away
her hairdressing equipment, but she had pulled out a plastic box full of nail polishes and set them down on the kitchen table.

‘If you like, I can give you both a manicure.’

‘Ooh super! My nails are a disgrace.’ Marianne said enthusiastically, waggling her hands out to Vaila. ‘Me first!’

Julia
put the kettle on again and opened a packet of biscuits.

‘No biscuits for me please
,’ Marianne said, ‘I’m taking you out for something to eat after this.’

‘Oh no; I couldn’t. I don’t feel up to going out.’

‘I know you don’t. But you must; it’s my birthday and I insist.’

Julia
dropped the packet of biscuits onto the worktop and spun round quickly.

‘Oh shit
; already? I didn’t realise what day it was today. I’m so sorry.’

‘So you should be. I’
m fifty today; and I intend to celebrate.’

‘But where are we going? You’re not having a party are you?’

‘Not tonight. But we might have a little party on Saturday night. I’m not going to insist you come to that, although you’d be very welcome. But you’re coming out with us tonight missy. We have celebrated nearly every birthday together since we were six years old.’

Julia smiled
for the first time in ages and sat down at the table next to Marianne, and hugged her.

‘Yes we have.’

‘So, we’ll get our nails done and you can find something in your wardrobe that hangs a bit better on you than those jeans; and then we are going out. You can stay at our house, so you don’t need to worry about drinking and driving. We’ll get a taxi into town and go for an Indian shall we?’

‘That is the tradit
ion!’

‘Since you were both six
?’ Vaila said, as she took Marianne’s hand to start on her manicure.

‘Well
, we’ve only been going out for an Indian for the last fifteen years, but yeah, since we were six,’ Julia replied, smiling at the memories.

Julia enjoyed her evening out at the Indian restaurant celebrating Marianne’s birthday, and she enjoyed sitting up late with Marianne and Brian in their lounge after their teenage daughters had gone to bed. With her closest friends and a comforting dram of whisky she felt relaxed, and if not quite happy, then at least not desperately sad. Julia allowed herself to be talked into going to Marianne’s birthday party on Saturday night.

7

Marianne’s house was filled with lots of her friends and family. There was food, drink, music and laughter. Julia knew everyone at the party and quite a few of them were from their year at school, so they were swapping “war-stories” about turning fifty. Julia’s own fiftieth birthday was just a few weeks away in October, and as the evening progressed she started to dread its arrival and knew she would not wish to celebrate it. She was happy for Marianne to be surrounded by all of her closest friends and family, but she had to fight hard to bury the bitterness she felt about her own life.

She was fast becoming someone
she didn’t want to be; and if she couldn’t stand her own company, she wondered how soon it would be before her friends deserted her.

Julia helped herself to a nip of whisky and a couple of ice-cubes and pushed her way out of
the crowded kitchen. Seeing the lounge was equally full of loud and joyful people she turned on her heel and walked towards the back porch. The door was open and there was someone standing outside smoking. He looked at Julia and smiled.

‘You haven’t taken up the evil weed have you?’

‘No, it just a bit hot in the house; thought I could do with some fresh air.’

‘Fresh? Aye, it’
s fresh alright. It’s Baltic!’ With that he dropped his cigarette on the ground and stamped on it and then hurried indoors.

Julia was only wearing a thin chiffon blouse and she
soon shivered, but was reluctant to go back to the party. She stepped back into the porch and unhooked a jacket from the coat rack. She knew Marianne wouldn’t mind if she borrowed it.

She zipped up the jack
et, then picked up her whisky glass from the window ledge and leaned against the wall and stared up at the sky. It was only mid-September, but whilst the rest of the UK seemed to be enjoying a last minute resurgence of summer, it could easily have been mid-winter in Shetland. The strong northerly breeze made Julia’s eyes water and she walked around the side of the house until she found shelter and a garden bench. She sat beneath the kitchen window and sipped her whisky.

The
window was ajar and gossip mixed with music filtered out. Julia thought about going to sit somewhere quieter as she found the laughter and high spirits oppressive. When she heard someone say her name she leaned against the wall, with her head cocked to one side, listening.

‘I think she went back to
the lounge, why?’ Marianne replied to someone, whose voice Julia couldn’t recognise immediately.

‘I’m surprised she came to your
party. She’s really miserable isn’t she?’

‘W
ouldn’t you be?’

‘Yeah, but
we all thought he was going to die from cancer anyway; surely she should be grateful they got another few months together.’

‘Are you serious?’
Marianne snapped.

‘OK, but he really shouldn’t have gone back to
school when he did. I hear the lassie who tried to save his life has been traumatised by it.’

‘How was anyone to know he was going to have a heart attack? It could happen to anyone, anytime. You can’t not go ba
ck to work just because of that; Jesus, none of us would be working at all.’

Jul
ia heard Marianne’s voice fade away as if she had stormed out of the kitchen.

‘You’r
e a fucking idiot Paula, fancy saying that to Julia’s best friend?’

‘What?
I’m just saying Duncan shouldn’t have gone back to work so soon; maybe he’d still be here if he’d taken it easier.’

‘Maybe s
o, but that’s not Julia’s fault; you could be a bit more sympathetic. How would you feel if something like that happened to you?’

‘Pleased as punch;
I’d be raking in the life insurance and jetting off somewhere hot.’

‘
Oi! I heard that,’ a male voice joined in.

‘Sorry dearest
.’

The kitchen filled with laughter.

‘It’s getting a bit cold in here, anyone mind if I close this window now?’

Julia looked up and saw a female hand reaching up to the window, bracelets jangling merrily as she pulled it closed. The sounds coming from inside were instantly muffled. Julia stood up and headed towards the back door. She intended to go home. She lifted up the empty whisky glass and calculated how many units she had drunk. One small glass of Champagne and one whisky; she thought she would be alright to drive home.

She was about to go
inside the house when Cameron appeared in the door frame; he stood back to let her in.

‘Marianne was looking for you just now. Are you OK?’

Julia stepped back outside and stood with her back to the wind and looked up at Duncan’s best friend.

‘Not really. I was just about to go home. It wasn’t a good idea coming out tonight.’

Julia looked down at her feet; she had her arms wrapped tightly around her body, with one hand clutching the empty glass.

‘Early days eh? Tell me about it!’

Julia shrugged, but did not look up.

‘I nearly didn’t come either
, to tell you the truth. I need a party like a hole in the head. But you can’t turn Marianne down can you?’

Julia looked up and smiled.

‘No, you really can’t. You can tell her till your blue in the face you don’t want to do something, but somehow she gets her way.’

‘Ah wel
l, it was nice to see you. I miss that idiot of a husband of yours,’ Cameron said quietly. He leaned forward and put his hand on her shoulder.

‘Me too!’

Julia turned away slightly and the cold wind slapped into her face, drawing tears to her eyes.

Cameron
pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her and hugged her.

‘It will
get better. One day. It has to; you’ll see.’

He let go of her and Julia mov
ed away, not sure whether to feel comforted or embarrassed by his affection. She wanted to change the subject though.

‘So
, how are you getting on? I was sorry to hear about you and Laura.’

Cameron
laughed caustically. He leaned against the wall of the house, as if he suddenly needed the support. He was a giant of a man, but now he reminded Julia of a small unhappy boy who was trying to put on a brave face.

‘Well I could cheerfully kill my brother, but otherwise…’

‘That bad eh?’

‘I just can
’t believe it, can you? You’d think you could trust your own brother, even if you couldn’t trust your wife? And now they’re both living in my house – the house I built – and I’m back living in my mum’s old house. And my poor old mum’s not even there now; God bless her, so I rattle around on my own going nuts. It’s not fair.’

‘No
, it’s not fair. Why don’t you just sell your house and move on, both of you?’

‘Amy would be heartbroken if she h
ad to move. It’s bad enough her mum and dad have split up; and I don’t know how she’s getting on with her Uncle John as her new “dad”. How does a five year old process that?’ Cameron ran a hand through his hair and paused for a moment. ‘I just think it would be better if we left it a while. Laura’s not in a hurry to move, that’s for sure.’

‘I can’
t imagine she would be; it’s a lovely house. What about John’s wife? How’s she getting on?’

‘Well wouldn’t you know it
, but Fiona’s started seeing someone else now. So everyone’s all fine and dandy, except me. The great big fucking mug that I am.’

‘No you’re not. Don’t be sil
ly. These things happen; you know that yourself.’

Cameron
stood up straight suddenly, casting a shadow over Julia as he blocked out the light from the porch.

‘So you think this is divine retribution for my earlier mistakes?’

‘I don’t think the world works that way actually. But you did do your own share of breaking hearts years ago.’

‘So I deserve it?
’

‘No
, of course you don’t.’

Julia watched as the anger receded a little from his face. She smiled at him
, and put her hand on his arm.

‘We’ll both be fine. Give i
t time. But’s it’s cold outside; I’m going in to find Marianne to say goodbye.’

Julia
took off Marianne’s jacket and hung it on the rack and walked down the hall. She paused by the kitchen door and reached in and put her glass down on the counter and walked away without looking at anyone. She headed for the lounge and found Marianne dancing with her husband. Their two teenage daughters were sitting on the sofa, holding cushions over their faces and giggling with embarrassment.

The song finished and Brian kissed Marianne which made
their daughters scream and hurl the cushions at them.

Julia laughed and picked up the cushions that had landed at her feet. She carried them over to the sofa and sat down between Sophie and Isobel.

Sophie leaned against Julia and put her arm around her.

‘How’s it going Auntie Jules
?’

‘Not so bad. How are you two enjoying the party?

‘It would be better if mam and dad would stop behaving like idiots. They’re so gross.’

Julia looked up at Marianne who was still standing in the middle of the room cuddling her husband.

‘Would you rather they didn’t get on with each other?’ Julia asked Sophie.

‘No, of course
not. Just wish they wouldn’t do that in public.’

‘Change the music then, put on something less smooch
ie.’

Isobel leapt up from the sofa and ran to the iPod docking station
and a moment later the music changed to something young and funky. Marianne and Brian grinned at each other and proceeded to dance to the music in an exaggeration of how people might dance at a rave; which drew howls of protest from their daughters. Sophie and Isobel left the room in a hurry.

Marianne stopped her manic jigging around on t
he dance floor and turned down the music a little.

‘That’s better,’ she said
, as she sat next to Julia. ‘We won’t see those little minxes again for a while.’

‘We would have been embarrassed by our parents if they
’d been cavorting about, dancing and kissing.’

‘Of course we would!’ Marianne replied, giggling mischievously. ‘Anyway, where have you been hiding? I thought you’d gone home.’

‘I went outside for a bit of fresh air. I was talking to Cameron.’

‘Ah, misery likes company eh?’

Julia laughed. ‘Something like that yeah.’

‘
Poor love! I do feel sorry for him, although I expect his first wife is laughing fit to burst.’

‘I don’t doubt it. I’m s
urprised she hasn’t come back to Shetland just for a gloat.’

‘Well
, she was a stuck up bitch anyhow. And he’s definitely a changed man now, especially after Amy came along.’

‘So he should be
. You can’t run around like a young man staying out drinking and clubbing at our age.’

‘Bet George Clooney does,
’ Marianne said.

‘
Cameron isn’t George Clooney.’

‘He is kind of nice looking though, don’t you think?’

At that moment Cameron walked into the room doing up his coat. His head was bent forward, revealing a slightly thinning patch of hair that was only just starting to grey. He normally wore his dark brown hair really short, but he had clearly neglected to visit the barber for a while. His face looked a little tired, but underneath the sadness remained the good bone structure, clear skin and deep blue eyes that had given him the edge over many men, back when they were all young.

Marianne jumped up suddenly and grabbed hold of
Cameron.

‘For God’s sake man, it’s not even ten. Where do you think you’re going so earl
y? Take that coat off and dance with me.’

Marianne wrestled with
Cameron and undid his jacket again.

‘I don’t really feel up to partying at the moment.’

‘Of course not; we’re all too old to party aren’t we? We should just put on our slippers and go and get some Horlicks.’ Marianne said, as she tugged his jacket off.

Cameron
grinned at her and then looked over at Julia and shrugged, as if to say, “see what I mean.”

Julia smiled in response
and made herself comfortable on the sofa. She could see her bolt for freedom would be similarly thwarted by Marianne.

After a few minutes
Cameron managed to escape from Marianne and he flopped down next to Julia.

‘I thought you were leaving,’ he said.

‘I thought you were too.’