Felix is listening intently.
‘Vivi thought she was a songbird, but I used to say she sounded more like a seagull.’
Felix grins and goes off into the living room with Baxter, leaving me staring at the array of Vivi’s tiny travel magnets. Almost immediately they go blurry, and I have to grip onto the work surface to steady myself. I make myself a coffee at high speed and race out of the kitchen to get away from my memories of Vivi. I go to find Felix, who is watching one of Vivi’s ballet DVDs. He’s in one of his ballet trances, eyes fixed on the TV screen and limbs completely frozen. His red coat is still zipped up and his rucksack is still over his shoulders. I often catch him doing this. It’s his way of thinking about his mum. The sight of him makes me think about Rory. When Rory came over to babysit with me, he would always put one of Vivi’s ballet DVDs on and he would sit and watch it with Felix. My heart would swell at the sight of them both snuggled up on the sofa watchingThe NutcrackerorSwan Lake. They would sit for a good hour watching the dancers. Even though Rory was always out getting drunk, going on office nights out and was often unreliable when it came to remembering date nights, he had a definite connection with Felix. Rory spent more time with Felix than I did in the last six months before Vivi died. He used to take Felix to watch the football every Saturday. My mind reminds me of his date with Beth this afternoon. I can’t think about Rory and him rebuilding a new life for himself; it feels like someone is scraping out my insides.
Checking my watch, I see that it is still early and an hour before the time we’d planned to leave for London. My brain leaps into action. I could finish sewing the buttons on the dress I was working on last night and after that I could sort out my website. Felix is still stood staring at the ballet dancers on the screen. Rory’s face appears in my mind. If he was here now, he’d allow himself to become as engrossed in the ballet as Felix.
There are so many things to do. I have a horrendous ‘to-do’ list and I know orders for New Year’s Eve will come in thick and fast today.
Felix snaps out of his trance. ‘Go and do your dressmaking, Aunty Emily. We don’t have to leave until later.’
Guilt twists my stomach into knots as I detect a tone of defeat in his voice.
I take a deep breath, try to remain strong and sit down beside him. ‘Today is your day, Felix. No dressmaking today.’
He looks up at me. ‘If you don’t do your dressmaking, you will be grumpy for the rest of the day.’
Irritation prickles away at my cheeks. I let out a nervous laugh. ‘I think I can take a day off from my business.’
Felix shakes his head and says quietly, ‘You haven’t had a day off since you started it the week after Mum died.’
‘That’s not true,’ I snap. My nephew has such an imagination.
Felix turns to me. ‘I’m telling the truth, Aunty Emily,’ he shouts, making me flinch. ‘You’re always dressmaking.’ Before I can say another word, he races away in tears and thunders up the stairs. I’m left staring down at an angry Baxter who is growling at me.
Plunging my face into my hands I let the tears flow. Nothing I do or say with Felix is right. Life with him is getting harder. Wiping my wet cheeks, I reach for my phone. I am sure I’ve taken time off since I started Forever Vintage.
My stomach has just performed an elegant swan dive towards the floor. I feel sick. Felix is right. I have not taken any time off since I launched Forever Vintage. Shamefully this includes weekends, school holidays and the day of Vivi’s funeral where I sewed in the evening.
Vivi, if you’re listening up in heaven, I still don’t know why we agreed I should be Felix’s legal guardian if anything ever happened to you. I am sensing he doesn’t like me anymore. If I am honest I never realised how hard being a parent could be.
We’re all on our way to Brighton train station.
Felix emerged from his bedroom after half an hour of him banging about in his room and me sat in the living room, hating myself for spending all my time setting up my business. In the end I crept up to the landing to sit outside his door. He ignored my initial attempts to persuade him to come out and talk to me. So I played a Christmas song on my phone and pressed it against the door.
It’s the song Rory and I danced to last Christmas right here in this very house. ‘All I Want for Christmas is You,’ by Mariah Carey. Vivi had thrown an impromptu Christmas party and invited everyone she knew. Lizzie, Bill and his boyfriend, Keith, came as well as Rory. Lizzie got off with one of Vivi’s old school friends and Bill split up with Keith after a huge drunken argument in the hallway. While Vivi tried to calm them both down and keep an eye on the wild disco dancing which was going on in her living room, Rory took me into the kitchen, played Mariah’s song and pulled me into a romantic slow dance. It was the best slow dance I have ever had in my life and even beat my first with Samuel Butters at the school disco when I was thirteen. In the end, just as Rory was about kiss to me, a little voice came from under the table. It was Felix. We both laughed as Felix crawled out of his hiding place. Rory asked Felix why he was under the table, and he said that a couple of Vivi’s work friends were kissing on the bed in his bedroom and it made him feel sick. Rory was shocked anyone would think of entering a child’s bedroom to get off with each other and like a hero he marched upstairs to drag the randy couple out of Felix’s room.
Felix had a huge grin on his face when he opened his door. ‘I remember that song from last Christmas,’ he said. He broke into a chuckle as he recalled Rory telling off the two people who were kissing on his bed. ‘It was so funny, Aunty Emily,’ he laughed, ‘the man was Mummy’s boss at work.’ For a few minutes Felix and I forgot our quarrel and reminisced about that party; Lizzie being sick all over Vivi’s plant pots outside, Rory’s drunken dancing and Bill calling Keith a ‘two-timing rat bag’ in front of Felix.
Baxter chose to raid my laundry pile again and came waddling out onto the landing with one of my black thongs in his mouth. Red faced with embarrassment I chased after him but failed to grab him as he scooted under Felix’s bed. He then proceeded to growl at me every time I tried to get hold of my thong. I swear this tiny dog thinks he’s a Rottweiler. As I was busy hissing at Baxter, I caught sight of an overflowing cardboard box. It was piled high with ballet DVDs and on the top was a pair of ballet shoes. I don’t remember Vivi joining a ballet class but she did often surprise me, so I wouldn’t put it past her.
I suggested we make an earlier start for London. Once Felix had wrestled Baxter into his red dog coat and made him ready for winter weather we finally left.
On our way out of the house Felix waved to our neighbour, Miss Hemingway. She was stood in her doorway staring at her snow-covered path. Her hair was adorned with pink curlers, and she was wearing a blue dressing gown. I would say she’s in her eighties and has a stern head teacher sort of face. To my surprise Felix, carrying Baxter, walked over to the little fence, which separates our front gardens, and shouted, ‘Merry Christmas, Miss Hemingway.’
She glanced at him and smiled. Her eyes drifted to me, and I watched her replace the smile with what looked like a scowl. Turning back to Felix she said, ‘To you too, Felix. How are you getting on?’
He pointed in my direction. ‘Aunty Emily is looking after me. We argue a lot. Sorry about the noise.’
Oh, God, why has he said that, I thought. If he’s not careful I will have social services on my door. I tried to hurry him along. ‘Come along, Felix,’ I hissed.
‘Yes, I can hear you shouting most evenings,’ Miss Hemingway called out, making my cheeks heat up. My embarrassment levels were soaring.
Felix wriggled away from me and ran to the fence. ‘Aunty Emily is sad a lot.’
‘FELIX,’ I roared, hurrying back to him. In my head I recalled Felix telling me Vivi moaned a lot about Miss Hemingway and referred to her as a busybody. ‘Felix, I am NOT sad a lot.’
Taking him by the elbow I frogmarch him up the path, muttering under my breath about why my sister made me his legal guardian.
