Page 16 of If I Could Say Goodbye
The Best Cartweel 10/10
Starting position – legs apart (Jen said to point toes like a ‘balrina’
Top tip.1
Legs strate
Jen clapped loudest and is not grumpy so it must be the best of cartweels.
I top up Mum’s glass and glance through the window where I imagine Kerry demonstrating her best ten-out-of-ten cartwheel. She’s wearing a white sundress; if I was closer, I would be able to see sand on her feet . . . this was the May bank holiday last year. We were on the beach at Barmouth.
We continue drinking as we go through her best handstand: against the wall; lasted 30 seconds. Only one scraped knee. By the time we get to the ‘crab position’, Mum and I have drained the bottle. I suggest putting Kerry’s scores to the test in that way where ideas like this make perfect sense after a bottle of wine, when without it, they’d sound ludicrous.
Ed, Hailey and Dad arrive in the garden. It’s one of those freakishly warm days in April where you are kidded into packing your boots away, only to have to get them back out again the following day. As I am handstanding against the kitchen wall, Mum is counting and giggling; my face feels like it is turning puce. Dad stands next to Mum, their faces upside down from my vantage point.
‘Are you drunk?’ Dad asks, his voice slightly alarmed.
‘I am!’ she replies as my arms begin to jitter.
Oscar runs into the garden. ‘Mummy, I can see your pants again!’
‘Good Lord above!’ Dad responds.
The alcohol and blood rushing to my head is starting to make me feel queasy. ‘Mum? Can you help me down?’
But Mum is laughing hard and Dad has turned his upside-down head away from my very visible underwear. I try to remember which ones I’m wearing and with a moment of panic I remember that I hadn’t had time to put a washing load on. The ‘pants’ in question are Ed’sStar Warsboxer shorts, and so right now, there will be a – no doubt confused-looking – Chewbacca staring out from beneath my dress.
‘Ed!’ I shout, ‘I’m stuck!’
‘Stuck? What are you—’
I feel his warm hands around my ankles as he rights my position, a mischievous grin on his face. I hold on to the top of his arms as he begins laughing, nuzzling into my hair. ‘Star Wars? That wasn’t on your list of do’s and don’ts. I don’t suppose you’ve got a Princess Leia outfit hidden upstairs, have you?’
I bury my face in his chest and start laughing.
‘I could peel off a few princess layers . . .’ he carries on.
‘Oh, shut up.’
‘Do you want to feel my lightsaber?’
I hit him on the arm and straighten myself.
‘What are all of these books?’ Oscar asks, sitting at the table next to Hailey. Her head is already buried deep within the pages.
‘They’re your Aunty Kerry’s notebooks.’
Dad has sat down in an exasperated state on one of the garden chairs and is wiping his forehead with a hanky. The glimpse of my underwear, again, has obviously taken its toll.
‘Well, when I was a little girl like you—’
‘I’m not a girl!’ Oscar holds his nose and waves his hand in front of it like he’s just smelt something bad.
‘Oh, you know what I mean, silly. When I was little . . .’ I raise my eyes and Oscar nods, confirming that this is a better description, ‘. . . your Aunty Kerry used to have lots of notebooks like these and she would do the most amazing things and write them down. I thought we could do some of her crazy things.’
He leans over Hailey’s arm to read the contents.
‘Skipping Songs that get the biggest number of jumps.
