What goes around comes around (Lily’s Story) (6 page)

“I’ll look after the bags and bring them in to you at work,
a week Friday, to put in your bag, and then you won’t have a load of stress at
home.  You are driving straight to the place the coach is leaving from after
work, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, by taxi, although I’m finishing a little early.” 
Greg and Adam are leaving first thing Friday for Bristol, and Ethan will be off
at a bit before lunchtime, while my shift is for a few hours from just before
lunch so I can see the others off.  The coach is leaving late afternoon, and we
won’t get there until quite late in the evening, not returning ’til Monday
evening after the last walk. 

“Well, I want to hear all about it on Tuesday at the pub,”
she insists as I ease the car door open and get out.

“Thanks again, Em, I really adore the dress.” 

She just smiles and winks at me before driving off.

The week passes in a blur, what with getting all the final
things sorted for Adam, Greg and Ethan, as well as my own things for the
Peaks.  I also make sure I go to the gym every day after work, keen to ensure
the dress still looks good by the time I get the chance to wear it.  By the
time we sit down for a rare family dinner on Thursday night, the last night
before Adam leaves, I’m both exhausted and excited at the same time.  I had
prepared a full roast dinner as our family ‘last supper’.  It is, I suppose as
I dish up the plates of lamb, roast potatoes, peas, carrots and gravy, a highly
significant night in the Lambert household.  With Adam off to uni, who knows
when we will next all sit down to dinner together – perhaps Christmas?  If
my own life is anything to go by, then university will change Adam finally into
an adult.  With a bit of luck he won’t make the same mistakes as his father and
I – not that I regret my boys, I just think we made it harder for
ourselves than we needed it to be.  I had made him a little package of stuff to
start university with – basic food provisions, some beer, which no doubt
his father would help him with, and a couple of packets of condoms.  History
has a habit of repeating itself, after all, and while I wouldn’t embarrass him
by talking about it at his age, I could at least give him a ‘not so subtle’
hint. 

The meal is surprisingly pleasant.  It seems the fact that
we all have something to look forward to at the weekend makes us enjoy this
last dinner together, and there is a lot of laughter for a change.  They
compliment me on the meal, and Ethan even insists on clearing the plates and
serving the apple crumble and custard in the style of a silver service waiter,
which makes us all laugh. 

Greg and I had decided that we would give both boys a small
amount of money I had managed to save to help with university, or whatever they
chose to do, and both boys seem genuinely pleased when we present it to them at
the end of the meal.  Especially Ethan, who I think had always suspected we
were disappointed in him for not following in his brother’s path.  The money
won’t go far but they know we’ve done our best, and when both boys take a
moment to come into the kitchen and hug me as I wash the dishes, I feel my eyes
mist.  It’s a rare sweet moment.

That night, when Greg pulls me into his arms, I go as
willingly as I ever have, wanting the good feeling of the evening to last a
little longer.  As his fingers trace my thigh and up to my breast I try to lose
myself in the sensation, but my mind flickers to checking whether I’ve packed
everything I need for the trip.  Whatever he does, however and wherever he
touches me, there’s just something missing.   As he slides inside me I can feel
initial friction from the absence of my own arousal, and it takes a few moments
until it feels comfortable.  I lie there in the traditional style, hating
myself as he thrusts into me gently, wishing he would finish quickly, more concerned
I’ll need to wash my hair again in the morning than about what’s happening in
bed.  I moan in the hope it will persuade him I’m enjoying myself and encourage
him to finish, and then immediately feel guilty I’m not getting anything from
it, wondering if it is somehow my fault.  When he eventually comes it’s with the
usual groan as he collapses over the top of me, crushing the air from my lungs. 
I push his body away from my own and quickly slip out of bed to clean myself up. 
When I finish we lie beside each other, him spooning me.  I think I hear him
whisper: “I love you” as I drift off to sleep, but I may have imagined it.

*****************

The morning after is frantic, with the usual family tension
returned.  It seems I have lost a ‘best shirt’ for Adam, Ethan has pulled the
button off the black trousers he needs for his course, and Greg is pissed
because the car only has half a tank of petrol in it.  Despite all this I shed
a tear as Adam hugs me goodbye, and stand in the road in my dressing gown, waving
until they drive off out of sight and a car beeps at me from behind to get out
the way.

“Mum, you’re so embarrassing,” Ethan says with a roll of his
eyes as he watches me from the front doorway.  

By the time I have showered, redone my hair, and pulled on
my jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt top with a hoodie over it to keep me warm
on the coach, Ethan is calling from downstairs to let me know he’s ready to
leave for the course.  I run down the stairs, and he looks visibly surprised as
he takes in my appearance.

“You look different... you look good!” he amends with a note
of surprise to his voice that betrays the compliment as backhanded.  He
collects himself.  “No, I mean it, mum, you look really good, you’ve lost
weight.” 

I blush and glance down at myself.  I guess I’m in more
fitted clothes than my usual slouchy cardigans and my weight loss is really
beginning to show. 

“Oh, thanks,” I say, pulling him into a swift hug.  “See you
Monday night; I hope the course goes well.  I love you,” I add.

“Yeah, and you,” he says, moving
away, awkward with the open display of emotion. 
He’s so like his father
,
I think as I watch him struggle to say what he feels.  He gives a wave over his
shoulder as he walks down the path and away, and with that I’m alone.  I feel a
shiver of excitement thrill through my body, and I can’t really put my finger
on what caused it – I’m just a bit demob happy, I guess.  I go back
upstairs to finish loading my gear into the large backpack I’m taking.  The cab
arrives perfectly on time to get me to work for my shift, and I leave the house
without a backward glance.

Emma arrives at 1pm promptly with my dress, shoes and a sandwich
for each of us.  I pick at mine as we sit on the bench in the little garden
attached to the surgery.  I’ve been trying to avoid bread as part of my weight
reduction scheme. 

“You’re looking good, Lil,” she says, looking at me sideways
as she tucks into a turkey sandwich.

I really don’t know where she puts it all and stays so
slim
, I think uncharitably as she finishes hers and eats the other
untouched half of mine, immediately stopping myself and feeling guilty when I remember
just how much this girl has done for me over recent days, weeks,
hell,
years, let’s be honest!
And for God’s sake, the woman is having a baby;
can’t I just be kind when she’s gone out of her way for me?

“Yeah, you’re the second person to say that today,” I
finally acknowledge.

“Don’t tell me Greg actually paid you a compliment!”

“Don’t be silly,” I laugh. “Ethan told me I’d lost weight
just before he left.  I guess the gym is working.”

“It is, Lil, but you were always beautiful anyway, whatever
size you were.  You just never realised it.”

“You’re just my best friend and therefore obliged to love me
whatever I look like – it’s part of the contract,” I counter.  This is an
old conversation, and one which I’ve always liked to deflect away from as
quickly as possible.  “So when are you picking up the new car?”

“This weekend,” she says, instantly buzzing with excitement. 
She has already informed me that they’ve found a car at the local Audi showroom
that is second-hand but with really low mileage which she loves.  There’s only
the paperwork and insurance to sort out before it’s hers.  “How about I come
and pick you up in it on Monday evening when the coach gets in?  I assume Greg
isn’t?” 

I can’t miss the slightly accusatory tone in her voice. 
She’s right, of course.  It hadn’t crossed Greg’s mind to offer.  I had been
planning to get a taxi from the coach meeting point.

“That would be perfect, although I might be a bit muddy
after the walk that day.  Are you sure you don’t mind me getting into your
shiny new car?  I might make it dirty.”

“Hell no!  Hey, I’m going to have a puking baby in the back
soon, so I think we can cope with a bit of mud.” 

I hug her as we say our farewells, and she makes me promise
again to send her a photo of me in my dress, before I make my way back inside
for the rest of my shift.

The rest of the time ’til 4pm drags at work, as I stare at
the clock, watching the minutes tick slowly by.  When one of the doctors tries
to get me to start a patient search at five to four for anyone who has missed
their flu jab, I abruptly and uncharacteristically tell him I don’t have time. 
He looks at me surprised, and I realise this is probably the first time I’ve ever
said no to him
.  Why is it people really only notice me, or even look at me,
when I do something unexpected?  The rest of the time they just take me for
granted
.  At 4pm prompt my taxi pulls up, and without a word to the others
I grab my pack and head out the door.

“Good luck,” one of the other receptionists calls as she sees
me leave.  She had sponsored me, so she knows where I’m going.  I’ve managed to
raise £250 in total from other staff and a few of the regular patients, which isn’t
bad.  My family, in typical style, hadn’t given a bean.  I don’t pause to talk
to her, instead shouting out my thanks and waving over my shoulder in the same
way Ethan had this morning.

I’m nervous in the cab on the short drive to the car park
where we’re meeting the coach.  As we pull in I can see a small crowd already gathered
around the door of the coach which is waiting with the engine running.  I pay
the cab driver, giving him a small tip (I always have, I just think it’s the
right thing to do, really) and hop out.  The driver follows me, insisting he’ll
carry my bag to the coach.  I guess the tip thing pays for itself in the end
after all. 
It’s all about karma
.  The coach driver takes the bag from the
cabbie and stows it in the hold.

“Thanks,” I say again to the cab driver.

“No problem,” he says.  “Have fun,” he adds with wink before
walking back to his car.  I can’t remember the last time a man winked at me. 
Has
a man ever winked at me before?
  I look over to the group standing by the
coach door at the same time as Stuart is looking towards me.  He waves and beckons
me over.  This is it, I guess, time to meet some of the other walkers.  I take
a deep breath to calm my nerves and walk over.

“Lily, great, you made it in perfect time.  We’re just
waiting for one more person, I think, and then we’ll be ready to go.”

“Annie?”  I hazard a guess.

“Ha! Yes, how did you know?”

“Well she’s kind of unmissable, and I thought I’d have known
if she was here already,” I say, squinting to look at the few heads I can see
already sitting on the coach.  He agrees, turning to the other people who are standing
near him and chatting quietly.

“Guys, this is Lily.  Lily, do you know anyone?” 

I look at the group for the first time properly.  There are
about six of them.  Pat, the only other woman, acknowledges me with a nod as I
say,

“Pat and I use the gym a lot at the same time, um.” I scan
the rest of the faces, who all look familiar, but I don’t know any names. “I’m
not sure of anyone else’s names, sorry,” I say, flushing with embarrassment. 

Stuart, sensing my discomfort and with the ease of someone
who deals with people professionally, steps in quickly and introduces everyone;
“This is Pat, as you know, Phil, Colin, Pete and Paul.”  As he says their names
I look at each in turn, and they nod and smile at me.  I nod shyly back,
wondering how the hell I’ll ever remember all the names.  They look nice, sort
of normal, and Pete particularly gives me a big smile.  They don’t look like frightening
fitness freaks, so with a bit of luck I’m not too out of my depth.  I feel
hopeful.

“Can we get this show on the road yet?  It’s a long drive,” a
voice demands from the top of the steps of the coach.  I look up and feel my
jaw drop. 
Bloody hell, it’s him
, is my first thought.  I haven’t seen
him at the gym since the day he picked me up off the floor when the door
slammed into my face.  It hadn’t crossed my mind someone like him would want to
spend his time on a walking trip.   For the first time I have the chance to
really look at him while he’s talking to Stuart and the others.  I finally
realise why he seems familiar.  He kind of resembles Rob Lowe, which explains
my adolescent physical response to his proximity I suppose, remembering the
passion of my teenage crush.  A closer look at the guy standing on the steps of
the coach, and I can see a few small differences – a narrower jaw,
slightly bigger eyes – but he’s as near as, damn it.  As my gaze reaches
his eyes I realise he’s looking straight at me, one eyebrow raised in a sort of
ironic questioning yet knowing way.

“Well?” he enquires again, his eye still on mine. For a
moment I’m not sure if his question is about whether we’ll soon be on our way
or whether I find him pleasing to stare at.  I flush, fearing the latter.  His
bright blue eyes bore into me, and for a moment I feel again like he can see
straight into my soul.  He finally looks away, back at Stuart, and I gasp a
deep breath – I didn’t realise I had been holding it.  The paralysis that
had held while he looked at me had finally releases. 
How long had I been
transfixed?
I wonder.

“Nice-looking, isn’t he?” Pat whispers in my ear.  I nod,
flushing bright red again as I realise my gawping has not gone unnoticed.

“Bit like Rob Lowe,” I whisper.

“That’s what I thought!” Pat shouts with a shrieking laugh
that has everyone’s heads swinging back round to look at us, including the Rob
Lowe look-alike.  His gaze fixes upon me again, and I giggle completely
uncharacteristically.  His eyebrow shoots up again, and I see a twitch of a
smile play at the corners of his lips. 
His lips
, I find myself gazing
at the perfect Cupid’s bow. It’s only the fact Stuart is still speaking that means
I manage to pull my eyes away this time.