Being Shirley Read online

  “Okay, I’ll do it,” she said to the empty room. “For me and for you and for Shirley bloody Valentine, I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The afternoon of her epiphany, as Annie had come to think of what she was convinced had been a visit from Roz, she had thrown on her clothes, snatched up her car keys and headed straight down to her local travel agent, oblivious of the fact she had mismatched shoes on.

  As she sat down in the window seat of Flights R Us, she looked out to the busy street to see a wild woman stared back at her from the reflection in the glass. Car lights sluiced their way forward as they crawled along through the puddles on the road outside. It really was a miserable day. She turned back; the pasty, stick-thin couple booking a holiday to Samoa were still deep in conversation with the only agent at her desk. It must be afternoon teatime. She couldn’t blame the couple for wanting to escape to sunnier climes; she just wished they would get a bloody move on. Eyeing them, she wondered whether with Air Samoa’s new weight policies they might actually garner some cash back on their tickets. Either way, they didn’t look like they’d be vacating their seats in the next few minutes so with a sigh she dug her phone out of her bag. She was bursting with the need to confide her crazy plan to Carl.

  He sounded a long way away as he answered and informed her that the weather was diabolical and that he had pulled the pin on the shoot. Why the powers that be would organise a bikini shoot at the beach in Canterbury at this time of the year was beyond him, he muttered. “Honestly, sweets, Sabine looks like an underfed turkey with all those goosebumps, which is not a good look when you are trying to sell swimwear and not cranberry sauce.” She heard his car door slam. “Phew, that’s better. Hang on a sec—just let me put the heater on.”

  After a load of background rustling, he came back on the line. “Right—all sorted. I’m all yours. Now then, have you rung to tell me you are ensconced on the couch in front of the tele with a half-eaten box of chocolates on your lap like I prescribed?”

  “Um, no, not exactly. Actually, Carl, I’m at the travel agent’s.”

  As she relayed her plans, his voice shrieked down the phone, “Okay, stop right there!”

  Even Mr and Mrs We’d Like to go to Samoa Please turned round to see what the squawking was about. She held the phone away from her ear and shot them an apologetic grin. She listened while he ordered her to leave the shop and head across the road to Coffee Culture immediately.

  “Give me fifteen minutes, Annie, and don’t you dare do anything until I get there!”

  Fully expecting him to try to talk her out of what she planned, she’d nevertheless done as he had bidden: she slung her bag across her shoulder and told the perplexed travel agent she’d be back shortly. She ducked her head down to brave the weather and made her way the short distance across the road to where the coffee shop stood out like a lighthouse beacon on a stormy day.

  Annie ordered her drink, picked up a magazine to read while she waited, and slid into a booth seat. She didn’t want to think about all the things Carl was going to come up with in order to talk her out of what she was determined to do. No, she decided she would deal with it when he arrived. She flipped open the magazine to lose herself in the latest celebrity misdeeds instead.

  “Right, now, my sweet, what on earth is going on and what is all this poppycock about you going to Greece?”

  Annie looked up, startled, from the article about Miranda Kerr’s post baby bikini body—honestly, the woman would make you sick—as Carl placed his order marker down on the table with a bang. She watched warily as he shrugged out of his coat, flopped down opposite her and ran his fingers through his fringe in that oh-so familiar mannerism of his. It swished back artfully and she wondered why his hair never misbehaved in wet weather. She didn’t wonder for long because it was straight down to business as he stared hard across the table at her, one arched brow as he waited for an explanation as to why he would never find out what had happened today on Under the Big Sky.

  Unable to meet his gaze, Annie fiddled with a sugar sachet as she explained the best she could as to what had transpired that afternoon. She knew she sounded deranged.

  “Honestly, Carl, it was so strange. This warmth—I’ve never felt anything like it before. Roz was there with me, I’m sure of it. It was like the fogginess around everything I have been doing lately cleared because all of a sudden I knew exactly what it is I am supposed to do next and it doesn’t involve splurging on a designer wedding dress.” She noticed Carl’s sceptical look and looked away quickly. She couldn’t blame him; she did sound potty. “Oh, I know what this must sound like but that’s the only way I can describe what happened.” She shrugged and, with a sip of her coffee, waited to hear what he would have to say. Plenty, she was sure.

  To her bemusement, he slowly stirred his latte, deep in thought. He picked up the chocolate-coated coffee bean on the side of the saucer, popped it into his mouth and chewed for a moment. “First off, let me just say thank goodness you have seen the light regarding getting married.”

  Annie pulled a face at him but he was too busy trying to make sense of what she had just told him to register it.

  “Next, I want to get this straight in mind. So there you are, sitting on your bed, grief stricken after losing your beloved cat, when suddenly you get this overwhelming urge to watch Shirley Valentine. A great movie, I’ll concede; Pauline Collins is superb and the end bit where she gets her table moved to the water’s edge so she can enjoy her wine while the sun sets should make movie history.”

  Annie nodded her agreement. It was both an empowering and poignant moment in the film and she’d read somewhere that the beach on the island of Mykonos where the scene was filmed was now referred to as the Shirley Valentine beach. Carl bought her back from Mykonos to Coffee Culture as he carried on intoning.

  “After which, you receive a celestial visit from Roz, who guides you back to your room, whereupon you find yourself gazing at the print of Santorini, and filled with a conviction that you need to go to Greece?”

  “Yes, Your Honour, that’s what happened.”

  “Right so, on that basis, you get yourself dressed—and what is with the blue sneaker and the white Skecher, by the way? You then drove down to Flight’s R Us, where you planned on booking yourself a one-way ticket to Athens without consulting your best friend, fiancé, or family. Have I got that right?”

  Annie looked up from where she stared at her mismatched shoes in bewilderment. She really had been running on autopilot. Then, feeling as if she had just taken the witness stand, she returned his gaze steadily. She was determined to make herself heard loud and clear. “Like I said, I know it sounds mad but yes, that is what happened and yes, that is what I am going to do as soon as we have finished our coffees. You know I love you but please don’t waste your breath trying to talk me out of going because I have made up my mind.”

  “Alright then.” Carl sat back in his seat. “What about Tony? I take it you haven’t had time to talk to him yet?”

  Annie wriggled in her seat uncomfortably at the mention of Tony. “I’ll tell him what I’m doing as soon as he gets in from work tonight and then I’ll head over to Mum and Dad’s for the night to let him digest it.”

  Carl shook his head. “Don’t be silly. Come and stay at mine because I can guarantee your folks will need time to digest this crazy plan of yours, too. And it is crazy, you know that, Annie, because it was only a week or so ago that you were squeezing yourself into a wedding dress.”

  “I didn’t have to squeeze, thank you very much, and what was it you said to me that night about Tony?”

  “Since when did you actually listen to what I say?” Carl shot back.

  Annie poked her tongue out at him. “As hard as it is for me to say this, I think you may have been right. The kayaking, the bunny outfit—they were all sticky plasters I was applying to try to cover up that we weren’t all that happy.” She rearranged the sachets of sweetener before she added, “As f
or suddenly wanting to set a date, I think I might have been using the idea of getting married as a way of distracting myself from what was really wrong.”

  “Yes, well, I suppose I can see how a nice big diamond ring and a Julianne Tigre wedding dress might provide you with a happy distraction in the short term.” His eyes rested on Annie’s hand, where her ring sparkled defiantly. “You’ll have to give that back, you know.”

  “I know and it’s fine—it will all be fine.” At that moment, as she watched the young waitress scurry past and balance empty cups and saucers, Annie wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince: herself or Carl.

  “Honestly, sweetheart, I can’t quite believe that you’ve just told me that you are leaving Tony and well—” He gave a shoulder padded shrug. “Everything, really—your friends, your family, your job—to flee to Greece. Why?”

  Annie reached across the table and rested her hand on top of Carl’s. “I told you why and it’s been coming for a while now. I’ve been ignoring my unhappiness because to change things would be hard. I didn’t have the energy for hard and I was scared.”

  “What and now suddenly you’re not and you’re fizzing like you have overdosed on a can of V?”

  “Yeah, kind of, except you know I don’t do energy drinks. Tony and I have been drifting in different directions for a while now and with all the crap at work—well, it’s been weighing me down. Now that I have made the decision to do something about it all, it’s like this ginormous weight has suddenly lifted and I feel all sort of bubbly—almost buoyant.” Annie gave him a little half smile.

  “Are you sure that’s not just wind? And we’d all feel light and free if we decided to cast off our responsibilities and just bugger off but my lovely girl, sadly, real life comes with a duty to others.”

  “That’s not fair because I’m not being selfish, Carl.” She caught his raised brow. “No, I’m not! If I stayed with Tony for the sake of it being the easier path to take, then that would be selfish. I’m giving him a way out because he doesn’t want to marry me either.”

  “I’m not suggesting you stay with Tony. Break it off by all means but why the midnight run? I hope it’s not down to what’s happened to Jasper because you know I read somewhere that you shouldn’t do anything rash when you’re in the grieving process.”

  “This is something I would have come round to doing eventually, anyway. Jazz’s death probably just brought it all to the fore a bit sooner, that’s all. It’s something I have to do.” She softened her tone. “Can you understand?”

  “No.”

  Annie drained her coffee. It was nearly cold and this time Carl twiddled with the little packets of sugar before he muttered, “Well, go easy on the poor sod, alright? Because he won’t see this coming.”

  “Of course I will. Anyway, I don’t think my leaving is what’s really going to upset him. Nope, once he gets over the initial shock, it will be the handing over of my half of our house deposit he’ll really struggle with.”

  A flicker of amusement crossed Carl’s face. “Ah, so that’s what’s going to fund this mad jaunt of yours?”

  “Yes and it’s not a mad jaunt; it is an adventure. An exciting and long overdue adventure of throwing caution to the wind. Think of it, Carl! I’m going to sit on the stone steps of the Herodes Atticus Theatre and listen to ‘Aria’ on my iPod and I am going to wander the ruins of the Acropolis. I’m going to watch the sunset in Santorini. I’m going to—”

  “What about your job?” Carl interrupted her reverie.

  Annie crashed back down to earth. “Huh? What about it? It’s not as though I am resigning from my dream job, so no, that will be one bridge I’ll enjoy crossing. I can’t wait to see the look on Attila’s face when I tell her to stick her job where the sun don’t shine.”

  Carl pursed his lips as he fished round for reasons. “Okay then, Kassia. What do you think she will make of you coming to Greece out of the blue like this? It’s one thing being friends with someone via letters and email for all these years but to land on her doorstep?”

  Annie’s stomach did a flip-flop. She was scared as to how this trip was going to pan out but she bit her lip and injected bravado into her voice. “I hope she will be as excited at the thought of finally meeting face to face as I am and if things don’t work out the way I am sure they will, well then I’ll move on. I’ll pick up casual work and island hop.” Island hop—yes, that’s what she would do. Annie liked the phrase and she rolled it around silently in her head a couple of times for good measure before she picked up her teaspoon and scraped the froth from the sides of her cup. Satisfied she’d gotten as much of it as she could, she put the cup back in its saucer and slid along the booth seat before she got to her feet. She gave her footwear another doleful glance before she turned her attention back to Carl. “I’d really like you to support me on this because I’m going to need you.”

  Carl stood and looked at her for a moment before he picked up his coat and shrugged back into it. “Yes, you are going to need me, and I’m glad because I’m going to come too.”

  “What?” If she’d been holding something, Annie would have dropped it as her hand shot out to grab the table for support.

  A pleased with himself smile played at the corner of Carl’s mouth. “See? You’re not the only one who can drop bombshells. And do you really think I’d let you trot off and have the trip of a lifetime without me?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Annie’s head had been buzzing by the time she got home from the travel agent’s. Her plans had acted as a temporary salve to her grief over losing Jazz but as she waited for Tony to come home, her eyes had strayed outside. Through the veil of misty rain, she could see the cherry blossom wavering on the wind. It looked so fragile and forlorn as it braved the elements that her eyes had welled up again. It had been a sweet and thoughtful gesture on Tony’s part and look how she was about to repay it. By the time the front door banged shut and signalled his arrival home, she had no fingernails left and her stomach was in knots.

  You are doing the right thing, Annie reaffirmed silently. She closed her eyes for a moment and braced as he came up behind where she sat at the kitchen table and nursed a glass of wine. He planted his customary kiss on the top of her head before he grabbed a beer out of the fridge. Annie stared at his broad, familiar back. The easy option would have been to write a note for him to digest at his own pace while she camped out at Carl’s but it would also have been cowardly. She couldn’t do that to him, no matter how tempting. She was hopeless at confrontation but she didn’t have a choice; she’d just have to brazen it out.

  Her hands had been clasped in her lap, her nails dug into her palms when Tony sat down opposite her. He’d looked at her quizzically for a moment as he pulled the tab on his beer and she’d launched straight into what she had rehearsed since she had booked the tickets before she lost her nerve. The words tripped off her tongue in a nervous jumble and all the while, Tony had sat with his beer untouched as he stared at her uncomprehendingly and tried to make sense out of what she said.

  As she slipped the ring off her finger and slid it across the table to him, he finally seemed to get it. She was leaving—it was over—and then the disbelief turned into anger as he accused her of having someone else on the go. He’d looked like a stranger as he demanded to know how long it had been going on and why in the hell she was going to Greece, of all places.

  Her tears hadn’t garnered sympathy as she tried to explain without going into what had triggered her decision that she wasn’t doing this trip for anybody but herself and Roz. Tony had stared at her uncomprehendingly before he lowered his head and muttered under his breath that she was bloody mad. As for Carl coming with her—he just shook his head slowly from side to side as he tried to make sense of what she had told him.

  At least he couldn’t accuse her and Carl of doing the dirty on him, Annie thought as she tried to lay things out as plainly as possible for him. “I have to do this. You know that things haven’t
been right with us for a while now.” She leaned towards him and willed him to understand. The look in his eyes told her he knew she was right; he just wasn’t ready to accept it.

  They had stagnated, not that he would ever admit that he had no intention of them ever actually getting married. And even if he had, she knew now that it wasn’t what she wanted anymore. Oh sure, they could have continued as they were and just drifted along for a few more years but in the grand scale of a lifetime together, they weren’t right for each other and it would not work. She knew, too, that all this would dawn on him soon enough, as would the fact that she had given him an easy out from the big white wedding where his mother was concerned. He could lay the blame for Ngaire not having her moment as mother of the groom squarely at Annie’s feet, which, not wanting to lose his halo, she knew he would do without batting an eyelid.

  She hadn’t liked to mention the deposit money they’d been saving—not so early in the piece because it felt mercenary—but half of it was hers, and she had no choice. The tickets she had booked that afternoon had to be paid for in full before the week was out or she’d lose the special offer and that would be that, she wouldn’t be going. This revelation had set Tony off again and he played the part of the wronged man to the hilt as he ranted that he’d be forty by the time he got the money together for a house.

  As she tuned him out, an idea that was such a glaringly obvious solution to the house scenario came to her. She interrupted him with the tentative suggestion that perhaps he could pool his resources with his brothers and buy a house. As she shuddered at the thought of a Goodall bachelor pad unleashed on an unsuspecting city, she caught the glint in Tony’s eyes and knew that the idea had registered. It would be filed away to be brought out again and dusted off when the disbelief—and it was disbelief, not distress—of their breakup had worn off.