Page 32 of Will You Stay Another Day?
‘Come on in. Pass me your coat, Rosie. Then follow me.’
Sun streamed through the front window as they went into the lounge.
‘Rosie, this is Trevor. There are only the two of you today. Would you like a glass of water?’
She shook her head.
‘Good answer – hold out for the tea and scones like I am,’ said Trevor to her in a kindly tone.
‘Who would like to go first?’ asked Lili as she sat in the chair.
‘You’ll both probably think me nuts when I reveal my object. So I may as well get it over with,’ muttered Rosie, and she bit a nail.
Rosie stood in front of the window and faced the others and reached into her bag. She took out a soft toy elephant, faded grey and missing its trunk.
‘I didn’t do that to it, by the way,’ she said and gave a wry smile. ‘My brother cut it off after an argument, without me knowing, and threw it away. I still loved Jumbo though. Like all the other kids in my class.’ She held the toy tightly. ‘In primary school the teacher used to give Jumbo to one of the children every Friday. They took him home for the week and had to bring him back and tell a story about what he’d been up to – going to their after school clubs, watching telly, visiting grandparents, that sort of thing. When it was my turn, I was a massive fan of that reality show singing competition The Voice, and I made up a story that he’d gone onto the show, trumpeted a song and won hands-down. A record label signed him and Jumbo became a worldwide rockstar.’ She gave a sheepish look. ‘Not sure what the teacher thought but the other kids clapped for ages afterwards. I was really sad to hand Jumbo in and cried. I’d always wanted to be a singer, right from when I was little, and I felt if Jumbo could make it so could I. In the school choir I was often chosen to sing solo, even at that young age.’ She shrugged. ‘Then I was in an accident, broke my leg, other stuff, couldn’t go into school for a while. The teacher visited one day and gave me Jumbo to keep forever.’ Rosie looked at the others. ‘Sorry, going on a bit.’
‘Not at all,’ said Lili.
‘Did you keep on with the singing?’ asked Trevor.
‘You could say that. It became an obsession, fuelled by the fact that everyone thought I was talented. I actually ended up on The Voice myself when I was at high school.’
‘Wow!’ said Lili.
‘Hats off to you,’ said Trevor.
‘I didn’t get anywhere, but I got nice comments. That’s when everyone else really took notice.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘Suddenly there was this expectation I’d make it big, not only from me but family, friends, teachers, even local people who’d seen me on television. At the same time I’d begun to realise that singing wasn’t for me – I didn’t like what being a rockstar like Jumbo would entail.’ That wry smile again. ‘The focus on how I look, travelling away from home so much, the reaction on socials… Some nasty things were said after my appearance. I didn’t go on my social platforms for a month following the show. Part of me feels a… a shame in giving up, as if I’ve failed – failed the younger me who wanted that career so much. So… I need to let go of Jumbo as a first step. I need to realise that… that I’m good enough just being me; that I don’t have to achieve worldwide fame for my life to mean something important.’
Trevor listened intently.
‘I’ve got my A levels and am on a gap year,’ she continued. ‘The next step will be applying to university.’
‘Sounds exciting,’ said Lili gently. ‘What do you want to study?’
‘Psychology,’ she said. Rosie looked from Trevor to Lili. ‘Um… I say a few words to Jumbo, a goodbye, right?’
‘Whatever you want,’ said Lili.
Rosie held Jumbo with both hands. ‘Thanks, Jumbo. We’ve had fun, right? Remember when I dropped you in a puddle and Mum put you in the tumble dryer? You looked so happy going around and around and came out super cosy. And all those nights we sat up talking, you were such a good listener, always on my side… such a good friend. And I stashed you in my bag so you could come to The Voice with me. You inspired me to do great things. Taking part in that show is an experience I will never forget. But the singing dream isn’t for me any more – that was yours, and you did it so well.’ She gave Lili and Trevor a self-conscious look, but they simply smiled at her. Rosie ran a hand over Jumbo’s ears. ‘I know you’ll miss me, and doing stuff, but you’ve had a busy life. Maybe it’s time to retire.’ Her voice sounded full. ‘Thanks for everything, Jumbo. You’re the best.’ She kissed his head.
Lili got to her feet and held out her hand. Rosie passed the elephant over.
‘I’m sure you’ve got a few already, but would you like one last photo of him?’
‘Yes please.’ Rosie’s voice cracked.
As the gentle instrumental music played in the background, Lili placed Jumbo against the vase of flowers, on the coffee table, took a shot and gave the photo to Rosie, who sat down again. Carefully, Lili placed the toy on the windowsill.
Trevor stared at Jumbo and then got to his feet and went over by the window. ‘I can relate to everything you said, Rosie. Thanks for sharing. I’ve been so nervous about this but once my friend Tommo explained about the freedom ceremony, I knew I mustn’t get scared. I had to do it to move forwards.’ He reached into his bag and pulled out a wooden base with a big glass engraved star on top. The end of one of the star’s points was missing and the base was scratched.
He held it up. ‘This was my dad’s. A big award from his job. The only people to get this went onto the board, like he did. It was a big PR agency in London. I hardly saw him when I was growing up.’ He tilted the star at different angles. ‘Didn’t stop him thinking he knew what was best for me. Life was easier if I didn’t argue with him, so I did the business degree, got a job in the City. Whenever I visited my parents he’d shake this in the air and say any son worth his salt would eventually gain an award of his own.’ Trevor exhaled. ‘Rosie’s words about not having to scale heights to feel good enough really hit home. He… he only ever told me he was proud once, when I was a kid – when I won a race at sport’s day, at high school, beating the son of a neighbour he didn’t get on with. Eventually I realised the City wasn’t for me. I jacked in the London life, came down here to visit an old uni friend, married her and never went back. I’m a teacher now. Primary school. Love it.’
‘Inspiring,’ mumbled Rosie and nodded at him to continue.
‘Dad died a few years ago. Several days before he passed, he tried to make me promise that one day I’d go back to a corporate life. My dear mum died last year and I kept a few sentimental items. She’d hung on to this, ever so proud of Dad, unable to see the pressure he’d put me under. Yet she often told me I made her proud too and she loved my stories about my teaching job.’ He lifted the award in the air and stared at it. ‘Thanks for… for making my mum and dad so happy. It’s not your fault that… negative energy came my way. You are beautiful and served a great purpose, awarding someone for working hard. But I can’t hang on to you. I need to be completely free of that voice in my head that pops up now and again saying I’m not good enough.’ He looked at Lili, visibly lighter, frown lines softening.
‘Would you like a photo?’ Lili asked as she took it from him.
