Becca tried to pull Lily up, but she was a dead weight, her legs as immobile as sandbags. She held Lily's face in her hands, but the eyes were unfocused. A line of dried spit traced its way across her face.
'What happened?'
'She had a bit too much...' A boy hovered on the front path, dark hair obscuring half his face. Not Kevin, who was stocky. This boy was painfully thin, even with a thick knit jumper smothering his top half, and jeans flapping around his legs.
'Who are you? What's been going on?' Martin crouched by Lily.
'The others went, but she needed to come home.'
'Where have you been? Lily said she was at Grace's,' Becca said.
'I just wanted to make sure she was OK.' The boy shifted on his feet. 'Is she all right?'
Lily moaned, her arm flailing around as if she was trying to make contact with something. 'Lily, darling, are you OK? Can you hear me?' Becca turned to the boy. 'Is it just alcohol - has she taken anything else?' She didn't know what to do - should she go to hospital? The thought of her poor Lily having her stomach pumped made her feel cold all over.
The boy shook his head. 'Don't think so. She had a bottle of peach schnapps.'
'You bastard, how could you?' Becca said, imagining her poor child being force-fed peach schnapps. 'How could you do it to her?'
'I didn't,' the boy said indignantly, backing away. 'I said it'd make her sick but she wouldn't listen.'
Martin put a hand on Becca's shoulder. 'Are you sure that's all?' he said calmly to the boy. 'I promise I won't be angry, but it's really important we know what she's taken.'
The boy shook his head. 'Nothing else. Just the schnapps.'
Martin nodded, then turned to Becca. 'Best get her up to bed.'
'Don't you think we should call an ambulance or something?'
Becca tried desperately to think of anything useful she could remember about alcohol poisoning. 'Has she been sick?'
The boy shook his head. 'She'll be OK, won't she?'
'Oh God, I hope so.' Becca clasped Lily to her, feeling this was her fault. If she'd paid as much attention to Lily as she had to Paul, Lily wouldn't be like this now. 'Wake up, darling, wake up.'
Lily mumbled, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Oh, Mum,' she said, as if she'd only just realised Becca was there. 'I'm so sorry.' Relief flooded over Becca. At least she was conscious and talking.
'Lily, can you hear me?' Martin said, holding her head so it didn't loll everywhere.
'Dad - I'm sorry,' Lily wailed. 'I feel awful. Oh Dad, help me.'
'I will, love. I think she'll be OK,' Martin said turning to Becca. 'Just one hell of a hangover in the morning. Best thing is to get her to bed.'
'You don't think she needs to go to hospital?' Becca said, looking up at him.
Martin shook his head. 'I don't think she's that bad, so long as we watch over her.'
'I'd best be getting home myself,' the boy said, starting to edge backwards along the front path. He took one last look at Lily, sprawled on the doorstep, then turned and ran down the street.
'Thanks for bringing her back,' Becca called after him.
Martin stood up. 'Come on, let's get her upstairs.'
Becca had seen cartoons where characters' legs had turned to rubber; but she'd never seen it in action before. Lily's legs appeared to become boneless. They alternatively sank and supported in a random manner. It would have been funny if it hadn't been her little girl. Martin tried to hold her, but she slithered out of his arms like jelly, so Becca tried to help lift her from the other side. Her weight was extraordinary, and her legs wayward. Becca and Martin staggered up the stairs, Lily wedged between them.
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' Lily kept muttering, flinging her arms around. Somehow they got her to bed, where she collapsed like a beached starfish.
'Help me get her into the recovery position,' Becca said, pushing at Lily's inert body. Between them they managed to get Lily over on to her side, and Becca tucked the duvet around her.
Lily started whimpering. 'Make the room stop moving, Mum. Make it stop.'
Becca stroked her forehead. 'I can't, darling.' She turned to Martin. 'Can you get some water?' Martin nodded, and left.
'It hurts, it hurts.' Lily closed her eyes, then opened them again. 'Make it stop.'
Martin came back, and held a glass of water to Lily's lips. Lily sat up, half supported by Becca, and managed a few gulps. Then her eyes closed and she subsided down onto the bed.
Martin stood holding the water glass. 'She ought to have some more.'
Becca nodded. 'If we can get it down her. Come on, darling. Try and drink some more water.'
Lily roused herself to sitting, then her face went white. 'I'm going to be sick.'
Martin had the presence of mind to grab the waste-paper basket just in time. Shame it was a wicker one. Sick oozed out of the sides.
'Dump it in the bathroom, I'll sort it out later,' Becca said to Martin, as Lily started to cry. She turned back to her. 'You'll feel better now you've been sick.'
'What happened? Who was that boy?' Martin said.
'What does it matter? She's home, and safe.' Becca turned back to Lily. 'There there, darling.'
'My head hurts.' But Lily seemed more at ease, as if in less pain. Her eyes slowly shut.
Becca stroked her forehead, thinking that maybe she'd sleep now. 'What if she's sick in her sleep?' she whispered to Martin. 'Isn't that how Jimmy Hendrix died?'
'I'll stay up with her,' Martin said, pulling up a chair. He stroked Lily's tangled hair. 'Oh, Lily, my sweetheart. Why peach schnapps?'
Lily moaned, and was sick all over the sheets.
It took some time to change the sheets and clean Lily up and get her back to bed, but they managed together. Becca lay down on the bed, her arms around Lily. After a while Lily's breathing settled into a regular rhythm. Becca looked up to see Martin watching them, his face drawn and tired.
'I'm sorry for what's happened to us,' she whispered, holding out her hand to him. 'Can't we move on?'
But he shook his head, the pain etched on his face, and wouldn't speak to her.
In the morning Becca felt exhausted, and Martin looked as if he hadn't slept for a thousand years. Lily, in contrast, was bright-eyed and hungry, cheerfully munching through toast and peanut butter.
'The advantages of being a teenager,' Martin growled. 'Now, young lady, you've got a lot of explaining to do.'
The story came out gradually with many digressions and random statements. Kevin had asked Lily to go to the rave; they'd said no; she'd gone anyway. It had been fun at first. They'd met up with other teenagers in Sydney Gardens, then gone to buy alcohol from the off-licence.
Becca assumed a neutrality she didn't feel. 'Why peach schnapps?'
'It was on special offer. Three for two,' Lily said brightly.
Martin looked at Becca. 'Her mother's shopping habits already,' he murmured.
'We bought cider as well,' Lily added, as if that was a mitigating factor. They'd gone back to Sydney Gardens and started drinking. Lily had thought the peach schnapps was disgusting, but she'd drunk it anyway because peach anything didn't sound too alcoholic. Then friends of Kevin's turned up with cars, ready to go on to the rave, but by this point Lily was feeling ill. Kevin's friends refused to take Lily in their car. The others piled in, leaving Lily behind. 'Kevin left me,' she said, her mouth puckering up and eyes filling with tears. Becca hugged her. She felt Lily's hot forehead press against her chest, and she was filled with murderous intent towards Kevin, who had left her precious child behind when it suited him. The thought of Lily, alone and drunk in Sydney Gardens, was too horrific to contemplate.
'Who was the boy who brought you home?' Martin asked gently.
Lily shook her head. 'I can't remember,' she wailed. 'I can't remember anything.'
'He was tall and thin,' Martin started, but Lily was crying properly now and his questions were drowned out.
Becca hugged Lily. The intensity of her love and relief that Lily was safe and with her, resonated through her body. My precious child. She kissed Lily's black hair. In the end they settled Lily on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket as if she were ninety-four, watching children's television. She looked very young as Becca tucked her up, far too young to be going to raves and pubs.
'I'm sorry, Mum,' Lily said, looking up with sooty eyes.
Becca kissed her. 'You're back safe and that's the main thing.'
Back in the kitchen Martin had made coffee. 'Thank God she's safe.' He stopped, and she knew he was trying to control his emotions. 'When I think what might have happened -'
'Don't,' Becca said with a shudder. 'Thank heavens that boy looked after her. God knows how he got her home, she was so out of it.'
You called him a bastard at one point.'
'Did I? I was so worried about her, I was desperate. You were wonderful - I don't know how you kept so calm.'
'I didn't feel calm.'
'All I could think about was my darling girl was ill, and I couldn't do anything to stop it. I feel it's all my fault,' she added in a low voice.
'I don't see why,' Martin said.
'I've been so wrapped up in what I've been doing, I've hardly noticed what Lily's been up to.'
Martin sighed. 'If it's anyone's fault, it's as much as mine as it is yours. I've been busy too, thinking about work, and the running. I haven't been a good father to Lily. Not the way you've been a good mother. But I will try harder.' He looked at Becca directly. 'Do you want me to pull out of the marathon?'
Becca was stunned. 'But you've trained so hard for it.'
'It's taken up a lot of my time and head space. I should have been here more.' He shook his head. 'Maybe none of this would have happened if I'd been around more.'
'Every parent has problems with teenagers, it comes with the territory.' Becca looked at her hands. 'I'd hate you to give up the marathon. I know I haven't been as supportive as I could have done but...I'm also proud you've got this far. I couldn't have done nearly as much.'
'Hey, I haven't run it yet. I might crash out with cramp or something.'
'Don't you dare.' She sipped her coffee thinking how she could begin talking about something she'd avoided talking about for years. In the end she decided there was no best way, she'd just have to ask. 'Do you think it would have been any easier if we'd had more children?'
Martin jumped as if she had physically stabbed him but his voice was calm when he answered. 'I don't know. Harder, more likely.'
Becca turned the cup round in her hand. 'Would you have liked more?'
'We've got Lily, that's enough. Quite enough right now.'
'You could always have more.' Becca thought of Una, so young and fit.
There was an uneasy silence between them before Martin spoke.
'You're assuming the fault was yours. It might have been mine.' Martin said, frowning. 'I know we've always gone along with the idea that it was your problem, but there isn't any reason for it. It's just as likely to have been me. I should have agreed to go for tests - I knew you wanted me to but...' He stopped. Becca held her breath. They hadn't talked about this for years, and never so calmly, so unemotionally.
'The thing is,' Martin continued. 'I didn't like the idea of it being me who had problems. Low sperm count sounds pretty pathetic really. As if I'd be less of a man. When we had Lily, I told myself it was proof we didn't have problem. Give it time, and we'd have more...'
Martin stood up and went to the window while Becca waited. She'd almost forgotten that Martin had refused to have tests, and that she'd taken the blame for their difficulties in conceiving, but back then she'd pleaded. She'd wanted children so badly. When Lily finally came along, that was the end of the subject, never to be discussed again. Perhaps that was when they'd stopped talking.
'It's hard, being a man sometimes,' Martin said, eyes fixed on the garden outside. 'Women say they want a bloke who's caring, and sensitive and considerate, and then they go off with some bastard who treats them badly. I know I'm not an alpha male. I can't offer you excitement and yachts and fast cars. I don't make shed-loads of money, or have an exciting career. I just bumble through life as best I can trying to look after my family. But I've always known you felt you'd settled for me.'
'That's not true,' Becca said quickly.
'Isn't it? Isn't this bloke just like that lecturer who broke your heart.'
'Maybe he was,' Becca said. 'But I didn't choose him. I could have slept with Paul at the conference. It would have been easy enough, and no one would have known about it. But I didn't. I chose you then. I chose you now.'
'You were on the rebound then.' Martin put his coffee down. 'I'm going to go for a run.'
'Isn't this supposed to be your rest day? Martin, please, stay and talk to me.' She reached for his arm, but he sidestepped her.
'It's not just about your choices, is it? It's about what I want to choose as well. I may not have been the best husband in the world but I've been a loyal one. I've never even thought of looking elsewhere. But now all that's changed. When I think of you with him...' He shook his head.
'I can't bear to think of you with Una.' Becca tried to smile at him. 'It hurts me to even say her name.'
'Yeah, but nothing happened with her. I kissed her once, whereas you...I'll take your word you didn't sleep with him, but you wanted him. You kept seeing him. That's more than just one kiss.' Martin opened the door. 'I need to work this out on my own. I'm going running.'
- ooo -
Lily appeared to have no ill effects from her excursion, but over the next three weeks Becca noticed she stayed close to home. Grace came round several times, and they disappeared into Lily's room. Kevin wasn't mentioned. Once, when Becca was trying to find a letter she'd written on the computer she came across a file that Lily had written. 'Mean People' was the title. Tempting fate, Becca opened it, hoping she wouldn't find her own name. She needn't have worried. The list was divided into Mean People; Mean People I don't speak to; Mean People I HATE. The last group contained one name in capitals: KEVIN.
Becca wondered if Martin had a secret list of Mean People. She guessed so. At least, he was avoiding her as if her name headed his list. Of course it could have been that in these last few weeks in the run-up to the marathon there were more training sessions, longer runs. They were careful with each other. It was intolerable, but had to be tolerated.
The day before the marathon, Becca took Lily to the Costume Museum as inspiration for Lily's coursework. Becca hadn't been for ages, even though as Bath residents they had free entry. Lily pressed her nose against the glass cases and made notes, drew sketches.
'Imagine wearing that every day,' Becca said. 'Look at the embroidery, it's all hand done.'
Lily looked at the dress. 'Are you and Dad getting a divorce?'
Becca shook her head, startled. 'I hope not.'
Lily digested this. 'Then why is Dad sleeping in the spare room?'
'It's just temporary,' Becca said, hoping she wasn't lying. 'Dad needs his sleep what with the marathon.'
'Oh. That one's like the dress you wore in the play.' Lily pointed.
'So it is.' She squeezed Lily's shoulders. 'Perhaps Angela copied it.'
They wandered around the exhibits. At one point there was a selection of corsets to try on. Lily squeezed herself into the tiniest one she could find. 'I can't breathe,' she gasped.
'That's nothing,' Becca said, tugging on the strings. 'Shall I go tighter?'
'No. Yes. Ow!' Lily squeaked, sticking her tongue out. 'You've cut me in half.' Becca wrapped her arms around Lily and they stood like that in front of the mirror. Lily rested her head back against Becca's shoulder. Mother and daughter, caught in a moment in time.
'I love you,' Becca whispered.
Lily twisted round to kiss Becca's cheek. 'I love you too.'
Once they'd got Lily out of her corset, they moved on to the exhibition of costumes from various Jane Austen films. It was interesting to read the designers' notes, how some of the styles were exaggerated to emphasis a person's character, so Willoughby got an extravagantly swirling cape to go with his romantic hero appearance. Becca stared at the cape. It was the romantic dream; the tall, dark, handsome man on his white horse, his cape swirling around him. Paul would have played the role to perfection.
Becca moved on to the next case. For Jane Austen, the romance was confined to the period between a girl becoming aware of men, and the marriage. Marriage stopped romance. She looked at a costume from Pride and Prejudice. Lizzie Bennet had her choices to make, and chose bravely and wisely. Becca stared at the mannequin. But a woman in Jane Austen's day had limited choices. These days there were hundreds of choices waiting to be made through life. Look at June, off to discover a new world in Cornwall in her seventies, Frank and his penthouse flat, and the golf courses of Scotland. Life wasn't a frill stop at marriage, if it ever had been. Doors were always opening, it was just the romantic ones that were closed.
Becca wondered which doors she would open during the rest of her life. She'd been searching online for possible options and found a degree course in theatre arts she could study by distance learning. As she read through the list of modules options her mouth watered like being confronted with a box of delicious chocolates. She wanted to do them all. Where it would lead, she didn't know, but secretly she liked the idea of perhaps getting involved in arts administration, perhaps something to do with theatre in education.
Becca turned to look for Lily. There she was, sketching at the far end. She started to go to her, then realised it wasn't Lily after all, it was another person with a sketch pad. And a purple feather bolero.
'Angela? Hi, how are you?'
Angela looked up from her pad. 'Becca! It's good to see you.'
'I love your drawing. Is it for the next production?'
Angela shook her head. 'No, we can't afford to do more than one costume drama a year. This is just for me. We're doing The Killing of Sister George this summer, after the Ayckbourn. You ought to audition.'
'Oh no, I don't think I could.' Or should, she thought inwardly. Lily joined them and Becca put her arm around her. 'This is my daughter, Lily. She's also interested in costume. Angela did all the costumes for the play I was in. And the stage management too.'
'Too many jobs,' Angela groaned. 'I need an assistant. Why don't you come along with your mum and help with the costumes?'
If Becca had suggested it, she knew that Lily would have put on that mutinous look and made that strange intonation of the word 'mum' which managed to convey equal amounts of disgust and despair that a parent could be, like, so uncool. But Angela, with her purple feathers, was obviously as cool as an American fridge. 'I suppose I could,' Lily said. 'What'd I have to do?'
Angela explained about getting the costumes together and all the props, while Becca watched Lily nodding. Strange how teenagers could be so ghastly at home, and yet so polite and charming in public. 'Tell you what,' Angela said. 'The auditions are going to be in three weeks' time. Why don't you come along with your mum then and I'll show you round. You can help me with the auditions if you like.'
'Would I have to act?' Lily said, pulling a face.
'No, just be nice to people, and tick them off the list. Sister George is going to be Brian's baby. Though quite why he wants to direct a play about an unhealthy lesbian relationship is beyond me.' Angela fluffed her feathers. 'Have you heard the news? Paul and his wife are off to New York, so he wouldn't be around even if we could afford him.'
'New York?'
'Yes, his wife was offered a job there. God, it must be incredible to live in that sort of world, getting head hunted, flying to New York, changing where you live just like that. I sort of fancy it, but to be honest, I couldn't be doing with it myself. Not in real life.'
'No,' Becca said. 'Not in real life.'