Page 14 of The Interview
“Yeah, sure. Just shout when you need me.”
Marley steps aside, and I notice Kiks has now also arrived and is sitting on a bar stool at the kitchen island. Cam’s leaning against the bench on one side of her, watching me with a smile, while Lu’s on a stool on her other side. I give them all a wave, then sit back down.
“Sorry,” I mouth to Dan.
“Don’t be. We kept the cameras rolling, and Kenz got some great shots during all that. Viewers are going to love it. Let’s continue. You were saying you threw a tantrum…”
“I did. I let Mum win the fight over the dress, but I was absolutely not wearing the sandals she told me to put on with it. I had a cheap, old pair of canvas high-tops from Bata’s that I loved, so I put them on and stomped down the stairs. My mum looked horrified at my footwear, gave an eye roll, but seemed content enough to see me in a dress to let it go. She did insist on plaiting my hair, though. I gave her that one, too, but as soon as Jimmie arrived and she stopped laughing at my outfit long enough to be able to walk up the garden, I undid my hair and let it hang loose.”
“Your recollection of this day is amazing.”
I shrug. “It’s a day that changed my life. It played on repeat in my head for many years.”
“Not anymore?”
“Now I’ve had other days that’ve significantly changed my life, they all take their turn, but I remember the details of every single one.”
Daniel nods slowly yet again. “Continue.”
“Around lunchtime, we walk to the local chippy and corner shop. We eat our chips on the way home, then open the sweets we bought from the shop. I remember I had a packet of orange space dust, or Pop Rocks, or whatever the stuff’s called. Anyway, we climbed on the monkey bars on the old climbing frame in our back garden, which we’d had since we were kids. We had our knees hooked over the bars and were hanging upside down while eating the space rock things, trying not to spill any, when I heard Marley shout, “I can see your knickers! Get the fuck down!” Marley and I recollect out loud in unison.
I lace my fingers together and press them against my lips as I grin stupidly at the memory.
Daniel beckons Marley over, and he slides onto the sofa. His arm stretches behind me as he rests his right ankle on his left knee and sits back.
“As if today wasn’t already wild, we’ve now been joined by yet another legend. Once the baddest of bad boys, the one and only… Marley Layton.”
“I had no idea you remembered that day,” I admit to my brother.
“Of course I remember. I remember a lot of things from back then.”
We’re quiet as we stare at each other, lost inthismoment while wondering just how manyothermoments I’ve shared with Marley over the years.
“So, you told her to get the fuck down, Marley,” Daniel says. “Did she?”
“Surprisingly, in a very rare showing of compliance, she actually did.”
“I remember swinging down, landing on my feet, and thinking I was a likely contender for the next Olympics as a gymnast before my eyes landed on the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen.” I swallow, but the tears burning the backs of my eyes refuse to be held at bay. They spill over and down my cheeks as my brother squeezes my hand. “One of my first and last memories of Sean is his eyes: brown with flecks of gold. The whole world disappeared in that moment. My belly and chest felt like the space rocks were still going off inside them, and I knew, I just knew, one day he’d be mine.”
“At eleven?” Daniel quietly asks.
“At eleven. I know. Crazy, right? And if one of my daughters, or sons for that matter, had told me they’d met their first love at eleven, I’d probably have slapped them up the side of the head to knock some sense into them.”
“And did he feel the same? Sean? What was his reaction?”
“He asked me to flash him my boobs.”
“Fuck me, he did as well, didn’t he?” Marley throws his head back and laughs. “I nearly decked the cheeky fucker. Right in front of me, he went,‘Show us ya tits!’”
I bury my burning face in my hands, hoping they don’t catch fire while my husband and daughters look on.
“Did you?” Dan asks when I eventually look back up at him.
“No, she fucking never,” Marley interjects while I shake my head.
“No,” I say quietly. “Despite the stories that’ve been reported about me, nothing like that happened until I was older. I was nearly fourteen before he even kissed me.”
“Portugal.” Marley’s voice is barely a whisper, as this time, I nod carefully, the tears threatening me with another assault.
