A Family Man

by Amanda Brookfield

  ‘Really?’ Matt pulled a face. ‘Well, I’ve locked the doors and if we sit in your living room I can keep an eye on him through the window.’

  ‘If you’re happy, so am I,’ she declared, hurrying into her kitchen to activate her espresso machine and thaw two frozen Danish in the microwave. Remembering Joshua, she rummaged in the bottom of a cupboard and found a large bag of Liquorice Allsorts, which she placed on the tray ready to take through into the sitting room.

  ‘A little present for when he wakes,’ she explained, pointing at the sweets as she handed Matt his coffee and pastry.

  ‘How kind, Beth – thank you.’ Matt beamed at her, secretly hoping that his own abhorrence of liquorice had not been genetically infused into his son, whose knowledge of confectionery had not progressed beyond lollipops and chocolate buttons. ‘When it comes to childcare all ammunition is most gratefully received. Just joking,’ he added hurriedly, seeing the look on her face. ‘He’s really not much trouble these days. Early on, babyhood and so on, was extremely tough at times, but the more he grows up, the more he realises he can do things for himself, that he can command some control over situations, the easier he has become. It’s made me appreciate that a lot of toddlers’ tantrums are probably just sheer frustration at not having the ability to articulate anything, at being so bloody powerless …’

  Beth nodded, while her thoughts drifted to a dreamy appraisal of Matt himself, of the mild-mannered, distinct Englishness that she found so irresistible, the innate modesty, and the dark-browed, soulful eyes which told more of his sensitivity than words ever could. The way his wife had treated him was so unbelievably cruel that it made her heart ache just to think of it.

  They had ten minutes to themselves before Matt hurried out to the car, returning with a pink-cheeked, pixie-faced urchin of a boy with the same floppy hair as his father and big brown eyes. Seeing how he nestled into Matt’s chest, one small hand slipped under the V-edge of his jumper, the other clutching a small, floppy orange lion, Beth found all her apprehensions subsumed by tenderness.

  ‘Oh, Matt, he’s so cute, and so like you. Those eyes, my goodness, and the hair … it’s extraordinary. Hey, little guy, I brought you some sweeties.’ She seized the packet of liquorice and dangled it near Joshua’s face. ‘And who is this?’ she exclaimed, tweaking the lion. ‘What is his name?’

  Joshua, who had been sucking his index finger, slowly removed it from his mouth and whispered, ‘Lion.’

  ‘I know, sweetie, but doesn’t he have a name?’

  ‘He’s called Lion,’ interjected Matt quickly, sensing Joshua’s bafflement at the line of questioning.

  ‘Oh, I get it. Well, that’s a cool name too. And we’re going to see lots of big cats where we’re going, that’s for sure. And we’ll take your sweeties too, okay?’

  By the time they got to Regent’s Park the weather had settled into a breezy drizzle, too mild to justify the use of a brolly but sufficient to convert Beth’s carefully styled curtain of hair into a messy frizz. Catching sight of herself during one of several toilet breaks, she felt sufficiently downcast to wrap her scarf over her hair to limit any further damage. The floppy-brimmed hat she usually wore as protection in such circumstances had somehow got left in the hall, along with the bag of Liquorice Allsorts, to which she had been rather looking forward. Aware that it would be wholly inappropriate to sulk, she did her best to match the cheerfulness of her companions, remarking on all sorts of things to which she would not normally have given a second glance. Thankfully, with the limited concentration span of a four-year-old dictating their movements, there was no question of taking too long over anything. Not even the monkey cages, where the various apes, as if themselves subdued by the dismal weather, sat huddled among their playground of tree branches and rope swings, staring at each other and picking their noses like bored children. After an early spurt of energy, Joshua was hoisted on to his father’s shoulders, where he remained, more or less, for the rest of the afternoon. Having first found this endearing, Beth began, after a while, to feel somewhat left out. While aware that Matt might well have resisted any attempt to hold her hand, she would at least have liked to have been able to brush arms, or bend near his face from time to time. Waiting at the railing round the penguin pool, she felt sufficiently in need of reassurance on the matter to slip her hand down inside the back of his jeans, reaching so far that her fingers slid under the band of his underpants.

  ‘Hey,’ he exclaimed, seizing her wrist in protest, ‘your hands are

  cold.’

  ‘Yeah, they could do with warming up,’ she replied wryly, pleased at least to have reminded him of her existence.

  ‘Let’s just watch this lot get their tea and then head back. Okay?

  Apart from anything else my shoulders are killing me.’ ‘Could he perhaps walk for a little bit?’

  ‘Josh, do you want to walk?’ Matt shouted, cocking his head to look up at his burden. Joshua gave an emphatic shake of the head. ‘See?’ Matt grinned ruefully. ‘The trials of parenthood.’

  The zoo shop, where they stopped en route to the exit, was crowded with visitors, most of them children, accompanied by fraught-looking adults wielding smaller, bundled siblings and bag-laden pushchairs. Seeing the sizable length of the queue for the check-out, and beginning to sense some of Beth’s frustration, Matt suggested that she take a place in the line while he helped Joshua choose a souvenir.

  ‘No, why don’t you go to the line and I’ll help him select the gift,’ she insisted. ‘I would love it to be from me, something to remember the day by. Would you like me to buy you a present, Josh?’ Joshua, now back on his own two sturdy short legs, performed a little jump, nodding his head vigorously at the same time.

  ‘Say yes please,’ scolded Matt, laughing.

  ‘Come on, Josh, look at these models over here.’ Beaming at Matt, Beth led the little boy by the hand to the far side of the shop and began pointing out things on some of the higher shelves. All that was within his immediate reach were trays of rubbers and key-rings and pencils.

  ‘Look, a wooden model of a dinosaur, maybe, or there are some fluorescent ones – that means they glow in the dark, really bright even when all the lights are off. Spooky, huh?’ Joshua frowned. ‘I want this,’ he said at length, squatting down and picking out a key-ring attached to a small furry seal. ‘I like this.’

  ‘Are you sure, honey? You could have something else too if you want.’

  He shook his head, looking suddenly a little nervous and glancing round for Matt. Beth straightened, smiling down at him. ‘How about I buy you something else anyway?’ She turned and began examining the prices on the boxes of models, tempted to select a big one, but worrying that so generous a gift might embarrass Matt. ‘Okay, well I like this guy. He’s called a pterodactyl, which is a kind of dinosaur bird. Looks like he not only glows in the dark but dangles from a string —’ She looked down to find that Joshua’s brown ruffled head had been replaced by an unfamiliar blond curly one. ‘Joshua?’ She scanned the crowded aisle, tutting to herself in irritation. Replacing the toy on the shelf, she elbowed and excuse-me’d herself across the shop to the queue for the till, expecting to find that Joshua had scuttled back to his father. But Matt was standing alone, arms folded, lost in contemplation of his neighbour’s coat collar.

  ‘Hey, Matt, Josh has wandered off somewhere. You might have more luck finding him than me – it’s so crowded and you’re taller —’

  ‘He’s what?’

  ‘I just turned my back for one second and —’

  He didn’t wait for her to finish the sentence but rushed into the throng of people, shouting Joshua’s name. Hearing the crack of terror in his voice, Beth could feel her own adrenalin levels surge, not just with alarm but with anger at the whole situation. Having checked the aisles nearest to her, and seeing that Matt was covering the far end of the shop, she pushed open the door and stepped outside. With the best of the afternoon behind them the path was filled
with people heading back towards the exists and carpark. At the thought of Joshua being swept along by such a tide, Beth’s heart lurched. And she would be to blame, she realised, looking round wildly, her eyes blurring with tears. And he was a beautiful child – chocolate eyes, long dark lashes, a cherubic mouth – just the kind to catch the eye of a pervert.

  She began to run in one direction and then the other, having no idea where to start, what to do, trying to peer round people and over the tops of their heads. With the drizzle now the last thing on her mind, she tugged her scarf from her neck and wound it round and round her hands, so tightly that the blood pumped in her wrists. They had to call the police. She turned and rushed back towards the shop entrance only to see Matt coming out of it, Joshua cradled in his arms.

  ‘Oh, thank god, thank god … oh, you naughty boy, Daddy and I were so worried —’ she exclaimed, rushing up to them.

  ‘Not naughty,’ Matt corrected her tightly, the smile drying on his face. ‘He was looking for me.

  You can’t take your eyes off them for a moment, not at this age —’

  ‘It wasn’t my fault, he just took off and with it being so damn crowded in there … Oh, heck, at least he’s okay, that’s all that matters, isn’t it?’

  * * *

  ‘Yes, yes it is … I’m sorry if I … it’s just that …’ Matt pulled Joshua more closely into him, struggling to articulate how the brief panic inside the shop had tapped into his darkest fears. ‘It’s just that if anything happened, I couldn’t bear it … he’s all I have.’

  ‘You have me,’ Beth whispered, not looking at him, knotting the scarf round her neck with trembling fingers, ‘if that means anything to you.’

  ‘Of course it does, but —’

  She clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘Oh God, Matt, we’re arguing. Oh, I’m sorry. Of course he means the world to you – of course. I’m so sorry, losing him like that. What can I say?’ Silent tears, suppressed for so long, spilled down her cheeks. Standing there in the rain, her hair feeling like a scratchy hat, her damp scarf chilling her neck, with Matt glowering at her, she felt utterly dejected. It seemed that every hope, not just for the day but for Matt, was in tatters.

  Shifting Joshua’s weight to one arm, Matt reached out and took hold of her hand. ‘No, I’m the one who should be sorry. Of course it wasn’t your fault. I overreacted. You’ve been wonderful, you are wonderful.’

  They walked hand in hand for several yards, casting smiles of apology and affection at each other, united by the knowledge that they had weathered the crisis and were all the more closely bonded for having done so.

  * * *

  Later that night, nuzzling Joshua as he tucked him into bed, Matt could smell the faint but distinct aroma of Beth’s flowery perfume on his skin. From when she had insisted on kissing him, no doubt, he mused, chuckling at the memory of how Joshua had puckered his face in resistance, grimacing like a rude old man.

  As he put his head on his own pillow a couple of hours later, the phone rang.

  ‘Hey, it’s me.’

  ‘Hello, you.’

  ‘You sound sleepy … and sexy. Wish you were here.’

  ‘Me too.’

  ‘Sorry to call so late, only I forgot to tell you that Andrea Beauchamp mailed me to say she can’t make this week after all and wants to push the interview back to Monday, April the tenth. Same venue but at five thirty not three. Will that be okay?’

  Matt wrested his brain from its sleepy state in order to think ahead. That was two weeks away, his very first day working from home, in fact. With Dennis back in Yorkshire he would be at the mercy of Josie and his own dubious organisational skills. ‘It’ll take some sorting, but I should think so. Tell her yes.’

  ‘After that it’s only a couple of weeks till Florence. I can’t wait.’ ‘Me neither. Waking up together … me not scrambling home like a

  guilty adolescent …’ He sighed, wishing he could fast-forward to the point where it would feel all right to behave more like a normal adult couple. ‘I’d love to be able to invite you back for the night, you know that, don’t you, Beth? But with my father around – and Joshua still so —’

  ‘I know, it’s okay, you don’t have to explain. Your little guy has been through so much.

  Whenever you’re ready is good enough for me.’

  Matt put the phone down and pulled both of the pillows from Kath’s side of the bed into his arms. Burying his nose in them, he breathed deeply, trying to imagine the smell of soft warm skin instead of washing powder and cold linen.

  27

  By the end of the next two weeks Matt was counting the hours until his father’s departure. During the last few days everything grated – the dog smells, the endless cups of tea, the daily mountain of soggy tea bags blocking the old waste-disposal unit next to the sink. Even the fits of coughing, unvanquished by an assortment of sticky linctuses and large pink pastilles left lying in half-used packets around the house, made him want to cry out in irritation. Dennis, he knew, had put his life on hold on his behalf and had done the job fantastically. Yet Matt felt increasingly that his own life had been on hold as well, that he desperately needed some of his own space back to be able to move on.

  Dennis fussed so much about missing the train that they arrived at King’s Cross with almost forty-five minutes to spare. Wanting to atone for his unseemly eagerness to be rid of him, Matt insisted that they stay to the last minute to see him off. It was early on Sunday morning and few of the shops were open. There was little to do except drink foul tea and discourage Hoppit and Joshua from chasing pigeons. It was hard to mask his relief when the time finally came to get on to the platform.

  ‘Dad, thank you for everything – you’ve been unbelievable.’

  ‘Just glad to help. And I’m going to miss this little fellow more than I can say.’ Handing Hoppit’s lead to Matt, Dennis bent down and picked Joshua up for a final hug. ‘You look after your dad, you hear me? And that Josie friend of ours. You keep them in order.’ His eyes looked pink and rheumy with tears, Matt noticed, guilty tenderness exploding in his heart.

  He was nearly seventy, he reminded himself, no longer just his father, but a shrunken, wiry old man with weak lungs.

  ‘You’ll be fine, the pair of you,’ Dennis called, placing his mouth with some difficulty near the open upper section of the carriage window. ‘Come up and visit any time. And Matt, this Italy jaunt of yours – if Louise changes her mind I could always come down to help out.’

  ‘That’s kind, Dad,’ Matt shouted back, wondering if the frissons of tension that had shadowed every mention of his weekend away arose from some sort of knee-jerk disapproval at the notion of his having a new girlfriend or simply because Dennis didn’t like Louise. ‘But Louise insists she’ll be able to manage. She’s got all sorts of things planned already – the new Disney movie, Chessington, you know what she’s like.’

  Dennis made a face. ‘Wanting to make up for you know what, I expect.’

  ‘Probably.’ Matt frowned, thinking not about the purse but about how Louise too had been odd about Italy, gushing with such enthusiasm about helping out that Matt knew at once that a good portion of it was forced. It was as if deep down the pair of them didn’t want him to get a new life, as if they had enjoyed their part in the drama of the last few months so much that they didn’t want to let go. ‘I’ve got to put Kath behind me some time,’ he had ventured to Louise. ‘I know it seems weird for everybody, me included, but I can’t just keep my life on hold —’

  ‘Oh, of course. It’ll be marvellous, I’m glad for you – you so deserve it, Matt, really you do. And I’m so glad you asked me to help out because… since Kath … Our friendship – well, it means a lot to me, Matt, it really does.’

  * * *

  Unable to reciprocate with any truth, ashamed that he was, as ever, courting her assistance out of convenience rather than affection, Matt had blushed and changed the subject, inwardly vowing to make Italy the last favour he ever
asked of her.

  He drove home from the station via a cluster of superstores in the Old Kent Road where he purchased two flat packs containing a filing cabinet and a set of shelves, and a box of plastic tools for Joshua. Progress in terms of actually constructing his purchases was somewhat harder; rapidly tiring of the limited capacity of his own implements, Joshua kept interrupting his father with tearful entreaties to be allowed to use the grown-up versions instead. After several such tantrums Matt gave up and set about making paper airplanes out of the instructions sheets, reminding himself that it didn’t matter how long it took to construct a set of shelves. Months of the luxury of working in his own home stretched ahead. The strain of charging between office and home, the guilt of relying so heavily on his father, were over. The previous week had seen a very satisfactory handover of his office duties to the formidable Erica. From now on a weekly meeting to discuss the allocation of performances to be covered was the only official act required of him. Oliver, after years of resistance, was at last hooked up to the Internet and so taken with the whole business that every time Matt logged on he was greeted by a fresh clutch of rambling e-mails. Apart from evenings at the theatre, all of which were covered by Josie, Matt’s sole extracurricular commitment for the coming week was the rescheduled interview with Andrea Beauchamp, due to take place the following afternoon.

  ‘It’s going to be great, isn’t it?’

  ‘What is, Daddy?’ replied Joshua, who had been momentarily distracted from airplanes and arguments about hammers by the discovery of a woodlouse crawling along the skirting board.

  ‘You and me. Dad working at home. Being able to take you to school and pick you up. It’s going to be great. Though we’ll miss Granddad, of course, won’t we?’

  ‘And Mummy.’ He spoke slowly, tapping the insect with his finger until it curled up into a small armoured ball.

  ‘And Mummy,’ Matt echoed hoarsely. ‘Of course, Josh, you’ll always miss Mummy.’ He reached out and stroked his son’s head. Ignoring him, Joshua bent his face near the woodlouse and blew hard, watching with apparent fascination as the tiny creature, still in its spherical form, rolled for several inches before disappearing down a crack in the floorboards.