Julias Revenge
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The autumn rain tiptoed on the city in a most hesitant drizzle, never quite deciding to find its power. Julia gazed through a mucky mosaic of raindrops on the minibus window as it ferried her back. Yet, home for Julia had long since ceased to be her parents househer real home was the clamour of London, a smart little studio on the fifteenth floor, the place where she had planted herself. Village lanes, hedges, stillnessshed long forgotten those in favour of city hustle.
She took pride in what shed achieved by her twenty-seventh year. University at Kings College, then landing a coveted job at a prime Mayfair beauty salonconstant qualifications, courses, never-ending activity defined her existence. Julia wouldnt even have come back if not for the odd coldness between her parents. Each ring to her mother meant her father was somewhere else, each call to her father and her mum was unaccountably absent.
Mum, whats going on with you two? shed ask.
But Margaret would only brush it off, Dont worry, poppet, alls well, pink of health here.
From Manchester airport it was a mere two-hour journeya small thing for Julia, hardened by London commutes.
The minibus drew up outside the Cambridge coach station. It all looked familiar, yet off-kilter: shop signs had changed, the big oak opposite the station now stood a little grander. No rain heresunlight, pale and fitful, poked through the grey. Shed told her mother shed come, but the arrival time was always liquid, uncertain.
A bored man with a streaky cab and a battered suitcase trolley ambled her way. Where to then? he asked.
52 Ascension Road, Julia replied.
The old family house glared at her with its blue-painted sashes, bird-cherry blooming in the front garden. Three birches, planted by her father when shed finished school, tickled the sky beside the gate.
Julia, darling! Margaret hurtled toward her, smiling, crying, hands trembling at the door. Youre finally here! Three yearsmy souls ached for this day!
Heedless of her mothers tears, Julia dropped her suitcase, peeled off her coat and boots, and flopped on the chintz sofa, stretching worn limbs. Margaret joined her. They sat entwined, speechless in a drizzle of love.
At last, the question Julia feared slipped out. Mum Wheres Dad? Hes not home?
Margaret kept her hush, Dinner first, love. Then we talk.
Julia eyed the flowery new cloth brightening the table, plates shed never seena whiff of unfamiliar, though the home buzzed with old memories. Her mothers cutletsalways lavish, delicious. Fresh salads straight from the small garden, plates piling up with familiar comforts, warming and strange.
Mum, is Dad off on a work thing? Youre quiet, all mysterious.
Margarets tone shifted. Hes away, yes. Julia, theres a reason I wanted a chat. So did your father. Its hard by phoneimpossible, really, for me. Youre always racing: the job, the seminars, never a moment. We shouldve told you before, but we didnt want to upset you
Margaret twisted her hands. Weve separated, Julia. Its recent. Very recent.
Julia set her now-tepid tea aside, got up, and peered into the old bedroomher fathers clothes: gone.
Where is he?
Please, love, listen Margaret pleaded. It happens. Couples part ways, even after all those years. Your Dad and I it just ended.
Offended, wounded, Julia pouted, her lips pursed like a girl again.
Their only child, Julia had always managed to get what she wanted. Had only to ask, and her parents made it happen. By her cot, in a polka dot dress, shed clattered a foot: I wantnowa bike! And a bike she got.
Bikes changed often. At thirteen, a fancy stereo was the craving. Even after the new fridge emptied their savings, her father found extra work for that. At university, Julia had never starved, never dressed beneath her peers: all her fathers earnings seemed to disappear into her outstretched hands, the family getting by on what Margaret made. Starting from scratch never troubled Juliashed be wise, shed ration it well.
No, Julia hadnt been some pampered thing, though whims often won out. She was studiousthe pride of her parents, getting into medical school.
You split up and never told me?
Its fresh, Margaret tried again. Life between your Dad and I has cooled for ages now. But thats not on you. He loves you just the same as ever.
Has he gone to Grans old place?
Where else? Its his inheritance.
I need to see him. Julias steps were quick, her resolve hard. She snatched at the door.
Hes away for work, with Ian, two days. Tomorrow youll see him.
Julias voice shook. Mum, its ridiculous! So long together, then poof, over. Is there another woman?
Margarets sigh was a stone. Yes. Hes not alone. It happens. Hes not an old man
And her? Who is she?
You dont know hershes from the next village.
So now shes in Grans house?
Where would he take her?
Julia pressed her temples, anger rising like a tide. You say it so calmly. Like someone pinched your chicken not your husband!
Oh, Julia. Dont you fret so badly. Its been brewing a long while. We parted ways quietly. At our age, why turn everything to drama?
Youre so spineless, Mum! Let me guess: this womans twenty years younger than him at least?
Ten.
Doesnt matter. A traitors a traitor.
Listen, Julia Hes always cared for you, always. Thats what matters. Im at fault for not telling you sooner. Your Dad wanted to explainI just couldnt find the right moment.
Julias eyes flashed strict. Youre too soft. Im not. And if someone betrays, they shouldnt be let off. I dont want to see him. Traitors dont belong in my life.
Pain clouded Margarets faceshe didnt press, only hoped Julias anger would evaporate with a nights rest.
So Julia changed, donned trainers, a hoodie, and slipped out into cool twilight. The country air stung her lungs, city rhythms falling away. Misty recollections of classmates fluttered by, those shed not bothered to find except in Facebooks cornersa world shed deemed beneath her busy life.
Mum, Ill stretch my legs by the stream.
Its going to pour, you know.
Ill be quick.
Grans cottage, hunched and aged but stubborn, peeked at her by the bend. Through the gate, no one stopped her. Inside, at a battered hob, a woman of forty or so stirred a pot, nervous.
Youre the new lady of Grans house? Julias words cut.
You must be Julia, the woman answered, abashed. Dereks shown me pictures. Come in, please.
No great honour. This house is my grandparents. Im not visiting youjust myself.
The woman wilted in the kitchens yellowish light. Dont be unkind. Derek was looking forward to your visit Let me put the kettle on
Look, whoever you are
Im Helen, she said, tense and uncertain.
Well, Helenpack your bags and clear off. You dont belong here.
Derek brought me. Im not leaving without him. I mean no harm. I thought
You destroyed my family. My parents were together for decades. If not for you, they would be now.
Julias accusation left Helen shaking. Julia, you dont know the story. I didnt break your family
A boy about twelve appeared, glancing between women, wild-eyed. Mum? I want to go out to play.
Go on, then, Helen said quickly.
As he slipped past, blue eyes full of surprise, Julia promised coldly, You wont live here much longer. She turned, left, the old houses corridors echoing her boots.
On her way home, she stormed through wet, thinking: Dad left a stranger in Grans house as a present. Rage mounted. She wanted to hurl her fury at her father, tell him hed failed her, debased her ideal of a gentle Dad. More than anything, Julia wanted that interloper gone. She knew she lacked the authority to throw Helen outher impotence stung.
Big city years had toughened Julia: swiftness, noise, the grind. Shed disciplined herself to rise early, stand her ground, make peace with clients. The village now seemed a faded picture. Only now, back among old floors and smells, did she feel what shed lost. She craved nothing more than an evening at the tableold snapshots, warm hands, long stories. The divorcelike an elbow to her ribs. Grown as she was, she felt naked and exposed, and revenge seemed the only shield she had.
At home, Margarets anxious eyes landed on Julia. Have you been at the stream this long?
I saw her, Julia spat. Shes nothing, really. And her sonnow Dads raising another mans child.
Margaret went white, a hand pressed trembling to her throat. Why? Why did you do that? Did I ask you?
Mum! Julias hazel eyes blazed. Youre just going to accept it? Quarter of a century, gone! Dont you want to get your own back? Dont you care? Its unjust!
Margarets voice fell to a rasp. I never asked for this. Im resigned. Why start battles? Derek stayed with me for you. We both loved you. But each other? Perhaps not truly.
Youre just excusing him! said Julia.
No, love, no. I chased him, you know, married him by sheer willdont think otherwise. I didnt trick him with a baby. You came along later, joyful and loved. By and by, living together became simply habit. When you left for your studies, only you remained between us. When I noticed Dereks growing fondness for a new woman in the next villageit all became clear. He told me himself, honestly. I couldnt hold him, Julia, I couldnt. It hurt, bitterlybut I had no power.
You could have tried counselling, holidays, something
Margaret almost laughed. Thats you with your city wayscounselling. In villages, everyones half a therapist, just nosier. It hurt to see another woman with your dad, but what can you do?
Julia snorted. Mum, you were forceful oncechased him till you wore him out. Now you just drift.
Because Im so tiredtired of being just mates. I want to be loved, Julia! Im not so old, am I? Suddenly, Margaret sobbed hard, like she wanted to wring out every sadness.
Julia rushed to her, clutching her close. Mum, please, dont. Youre young, youre beautiful, youve got me. I wont let you fade.
I shouldnt have gone to Helen, Margaret whispered, drying her cheeks. She came after things went wrong between us. Not local, just her and her sonran from a brute of a husband. Poor child.
Mumdont pull on my sympathies. I pity you more than Helen.
Oh, Julia, what can we do? Live as enemies the rest of our days in the same village? We have to forgive, darling.
I cant, not yet. Maybe never. I dont want to see him.
And me? Will you stop seeing me too?
Dont be daft! Julia tried a smile.
What if I fall in love again, with someone new? Then what?
Fine. You let Dad go, you can do as you please.
Margarets smile wobbled. Maybe I already have. Do you remember Mary Dawson from your class?
Maryof course, Mary. Julia had called her best friend, promised endless phone chats, but the city swallowed her, old friends vanished into grey.
Mary? Of course! Always wore a ponytail
She has a child now, married. Her dad, Andrew, helps us outhes a widower. Would it bother you if I found happiness?
No, Mum, its all right. But you know what hurts? I always saw you and Dad as my familyI pictured myself bringing my own kids to you, or you visiting us in London. Now everythings different. Even with all my independence, here I struggle. I have my own man, my career, but Im still shaken by your story.
Dont doubt it, all will be well for you. If only Mary were here lately, you two could meet.
With Maryyes! But not my father. Please, dont push itI cant see him. And with that, Julia slipped away to make her bed.
***
Her father Derek was delayed three days. He called Julia, called Margaret, but Julia rebuffed him stubbornly. She knew it was pride, yet every time she thought of Helen, that old fury prickled anew.
Derek finally returned and drove straight to his old house. He looked worn, his hairline retreating, eyes red-rimmed as if he hadnt slept.
You wont speak to me? Wont let your old Dad hug you? He tried a weak smile.
Why? Youve got a new family, a new child.
Thats Helens son. Hes nothing to do with me. But you, Juliayoure my heart. Im sorry for not saying sooner.
Goodbye, Dad, Julia said flatly, turning away.
Margaret and Derek spoke in the kitchen, then Derek slipped out quietly, weight hanging behind him.
On her last day, Julia truly wandered to the stream, visiting the old familiar path, watching boys whirling on their bikesa flash of blue eyes, Helens son among them. The shriek came suddenly: a single cry, followed by two more. Julia saw a boy sprawled on a heap of timber, bike abandoned.
She rushed overthe boy had cut his leg terribly on a nail and twisted the other. She yanked off her jacket for a headrest and tended his wounds. Hang on, youll be all right, she breathed, dialing Dereks number for help.
Dereks battered old Ford appeared fast. Helen raced out, hair a mess. Dylan! Darling, whats happened?
Quick, into the car! Julia ordered.
What have you done to him? Helen shrieked, panic-stricken.
Derek carried the boy in, and Julia, not thinking, climbed in too.
At Addenbrookes Hospital, it was hushed; the nurse at reception barely awake. Doctor! Now! Julias shout commanded the space.
The doctors wheeled Dylan in. Helen and Derek clung together, anxious. Theyll tend the wound. Hell be fine. The ankle, too, Julia reassured, already weary. She drifted out and walked the long way home.
***
By lunchtime the next day, Julia and Margaret waited at the bus station under heavy clouds, the English weather grey and heavy with tears. Julias heart acheda homecoming not at all as shed dreamt.
A silver Mondeo rumbled in. Out stepped a stocky man with a tot, and a young woman leading them.
Margaret brightened. Just in time! Julia, lookthats Mary!
Mary had grown broader but her eyes remained the same. What a shame its such a short visit.
Marys father, Andrew, called out, Recognise me, Julia? Its Uncle Andrew. I still remember walking you and Mary to your first day at schoolshe glued to my hand, you clutching your Dad.
Julia laughed, scrawled her number for Marywe must not lose touch again! At that very moment, Derek arrived with Helen and Dylan.
They approached, hesitant. Look, Aunt Julia! Im standing on my own again, Dylan called, dissolving the tension.
I never doubted youtough as nails, didnt cry at all, Julia grinned. No need for aunt, just Julia.
Helens voice quivered. Forgive me, Julia. Yesterday, I was out of my mind. My son means all to me, as you do to Derek.
Julia studied the gathering: family, strangers, all knitted together in a tapestry, old and new kin, bound by the land.
The minibus appeared. Margaret wept in silence, only tears sliding down. Oh, Maggie, dont! Julia will come againwont you?
Dereks eyes, the same hazel as hers, searched Julias face. She felt a strange tugan invisible hand, old habit, forcing her closer. Her father caught her in his arms, swinging her as hed done when she was barely five, kissing cheeks and nose till she flew.
Ill come again, Julia whispered, hugging him, hugging them allher mother, Mary, even Helen. She climbed aboard, peered through the glass at faces old and new, all part of her story now.
Even through the bus window, their voices rang after herCome back soon!
I will. Of course I will, she mouthed, waving, heart sore and soft. It just wouldnt be fair if I didnt.
The bus trundled off on patchy tarmac; behind her, those who loved her, and the sunlight shot between clouds to bless them all that little momentthose left behind, and her, being carried somewhere into a life yet unwritten.
