by Matt Dunn
‘Can I help you, sir?’ says one, or rather that’s what I assume he’s saying as he rugby-tackles me to the ground.
‘I’m here with…Archie…My, er, girlfriend just brought him in…’ I pant, enjoying the feeling that the words ‘my girlfriend’ conjure up, even though I’m in a rather painful headlock.
Fortunately, I’m rescued by one of the reception staff, who saw Emma come in with Archie a few minutes previously. I’m lent a hospital gown, and directed through to the X-ray department. And when I finally find Emma, she’s waiting anxiously by the coffee machine.
‘How is he? Any news?’
Emma takes one look at my ridiculous attire, but doesn’t seem to register what I’m wearing. ‘They’re doing X-rays now. The bleeding’s stopped, but…’
And as her eyes fill with tears again, for the first time in my life, I understand what it means to really, truly, love someone. Sure, I’ve seen Tom and Barbara concerned when one of the twins has fallen over and hurt themselves, but it’s never been anything like this. Emma is genuinely scared. Terrified, even. And it’s all I can do not to take her in my arms and hold her tightly. So I do.
Eventually, the doctor appears. As Emma stares mutely at him, I clear my throat.
‘How is he?’
The doctor smiles. ‘He’s fine. He’s got a nasty cut, and lost a bit of blood, and he’ll have a bit of a headache for a few days, but there’s no lasting damage. We’ll keep him in overnight, just to make sure.’
Emma bursts into tears again, but they’re tears of relief, and as she wipes her nose on the sleeve of my gown, I’m struck by the realization of just how hard it must be for her to go through this kind of thing on her own. And maybe she is too, because when she looks up at me, there’s a genuine vulnerability in her expression.
‘Can I see him?’ she sobs.
‘Sure.’ The doctor nods, and indicates that she should follow him.
I stand there, not quite knowing my place, before Emma walks back towards me, grabs me by the hand, and leads me in behind her. And although I think that might be more for her benefit than for mine, I don’t mind at all.
Later, when I’m driving her home to collect a change of clothes, she smiles for what seems like the first time in a long while.
‘Thanks, Will.’
I shrug manfully, which is a difficult thing to carry off in a pink hospital gown.
‘Don’t mention it.’
‘And I’m sorry about your sweatshirt. And your upholstery.’
‘S’all right.’
We drive in silence until we reach her house, but when I drop her off, Emma leans back in through the open window.
‘He likes pizza, you know.’
I turn the engine off so I can hear her properly. ‘Pardon?’
‘Archie. He likes pizza. Just so you know, when you take us out to lunch.’
‘Great,’ I say. ‘Me too.’
Emma’s expression hardens–although with a hint of a smile–and she reaches across and grabs me by the shoulders.
‘Will, if you ever break my heart–our hearts–I’ll break both your legs.’
And for some reason, that sounds like the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.
Chapter 27
I’m stood in the church, my neck chafing slightly from the tie that it’s taken my shaking hands three attempts to knot around my neck. There’s a nervous hush, as if we’re all waiting to see if, rather than when, the bride will turn up, and it’s a real effort to stop myself from turning round to check whether she’s coming.
‘Maybe she’s got lost?’ whispers Tom.
‘Difficult to do,’ I reply. ‘The church. On Church Road. How hard can that be to find. Even for a woman?’
Tom’s stood to my right, and as I catch his eye he gives me a supportive smile. ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?’ he asks me.
I nod. ‘As I’ll ever be.’
Tom’s got his hand on Jack’s shoulder, and next to him, Ellie is holding tightly onto Archie’s hand. I can hear the two of them chatting animatedly to each other, and Jack starting to giggle, before Barbara shushes them.
After what seems like an eternity, the strains of ‘Here Comes the Bride’ start up, and the whole congregation turns round in unison. I’m feeling surprisingly calm. Relaxed, even. And surely this is how a wedding should be? Not a stressful event, but something to enjoy. A celebration of a couple’s love. And a declaration of it in front of the people who matter.
As the music stops, I take a deep breath and turn to my left. Emma looks beautiful, and she meets my gaze and squeezes my fingers.
‘No second thoughts?’ she whispers.
I smile back at her. ‘None whatsoever.’
‘Well, thanks for asking me.’
‘Thank you for saying yes.’
As the kids whisper excitedly to each other, I look down at them, winking at Archie as he catches my eye. My mother had offered to take him for the day, but I’m pleased he’s here with us. Besides, she’s got more important things to think about. Like lunch with my father, which I’ve arranged for the four of us tomorrow.
And fifteen minutes later, when the vicar is asking if there’s anyone present who knows of any just cause why Anita and Michael shouldn’t get married, I’m too busy thinking about the feel of Emma’s hand in mine to even consider shouting something.
At the reception, I’m only recognized twice from my Today’s the Day appearance, and apart from one slightly awkward moment when Anita asks where we met and Emma says, ‘In a Ladies toilet,’ we have a good time. Great, even. But not as great as later that evening, when I carry a fast-asleep Archie from the taxi and into Emma’s house, then turn round to find out that she’s sent the driver away.
‘Oh,’ I say. ‘There goes my ride.’
‘Not necessarily,’ says Emma mischievously. ‘I thought you might want to come in.’
I smile. ‘For coffee?’
‘No,’ she says, kissing me long and hard on the lips. ‘For sex. I don’t like coffee, remember?’
‘Er…’ I say.
‘Don’t sound so enthusiastic,’ she says, putting on a hurt face.
‘No, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…Are you sure?’
Emma presses her body against mine. ‘Well, it certainly feels to me like you are.’
And after she’s put Archie to bed, she comes back downstairs wearing just an old sweatshirt and a pair of boxer shorts, and it’s possibly the sexiest outfit I’ve ever seen. I kiss her on the forehead, and she kisses me back, and then I can’t help myself and I kiss her again, but on the mouth, and suddenly we’re moving through the hallway locked together by the lips, and crashing down on her couch. Eventually, she breaks away from me.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘I, er, haven’t done this for a while,’ she says.
‘Don’t worry. It’s just like riding a bike.’
‘Really?’ says Emma. ‘Not the way I used to do it.’
I kiss her again. ‘Well, perhaps you haven’t been doing it properly.’
‘Shall we go upstairs?’ she says, a little breathlessly.
Without a word, I get to my feet, picking Emma up from the sofa in the same movement. As she wraps her arms around my neck I carry her up the stairs and, after accidentally carrying her into the bathroom and out again, find the bedroom and lower her onto the bed. All of a sudden, I stand up abruptly.
‘Bollocks.’
Emma sits up. ‘What’s the matter? You haven’t put your back out?’
‘No I…And this is going to sound silly, but I haven’t got any condoms.’
‘Ah. And I suppose we’d better…’
I sigh, and collapse onto the bed next to her. ‘Yup.’
‘Do you want to go out and get some?’
‘Kind of kills the mood, doesn’t it? Plus, it’s a bit embarrassing to walk into a chemist’s and ask for some at this time of night.’
‘E
specially with a hard-on,’ says Emma playfully. ‘We could always do…something else.’
‘What do you mean? Play Scrabble?’
‘No, you idiot.’ She pulls her sweatshirt off over her head. ‘Come here and I’ll show you.’
Some months later…
I’m sitting by the window in my new office, looking out across Richmond Green, and looking forward to meeting Emma for lunch, like I do most Fridays when she doesn’t have a lecture to go to. And no offence to Tom, but whilst I still enjoy meeting up with him for our regular blokes’ beer and burger at All Bar One, I much prefer these Couple Lunchtimes with Emma. And the Family Saturdays that invariably follow them.
It’s Kate’s old office–she moved out a few weeks after Valentine’s Day, although nothing to do with our disastrous non-date, Jen assures me–and it’s a little smaller and slightly more expensive than my old room but, let’s face it, I’d rather pay that bit extra than stare at Ann Summers’ rear for one day longer, if you know what I mean. Besides, a view of the Green means that on the long summer evenings, I can open the window and call out to Emma and Archie as they play on the grass below, waiting for me to finish work and walk them home, maybe stopping for a coffee on the way.
It’s gone one o’clock, and there’s still no sign of her, so I pick up my phone and dial Emma’s number. Her mobile rings twice before she picks up, sounding a little out of breath.
‘Hello?’
‘It’s me.’
‘I can tell,’ says Emma. ‘You have a distinctive ring.’
A few months ago I’d have found that amusing, but I’m more mature now. Responsible even. Which I have to be, because I’ve got responsibilities.
‘Just wondering where you are?’
‘I’m late.’
I shrug, then realize it’s a pointless gesture, as we’re still talking on the phone. ‘Not to worry. I haven’t booked anywhere. I thought maybe we’d just get a sandwich and sit by the river.’
‘No, Will. I’m late.’
It takes me a good five seconds to understand what she’s talking about.
‘Ah. Oh. Right. As in—’
‘I’ll be with you in two minutes,’ she says, hanging up.
I stand there with the phone in my hand. Two minutes doesn’t give me a lot of time to digest this particular piece of news. I mean, we’ve discussed how great it would be for Archie to have a brother or sister, and while we haven’t necessarily been trying, we haven’t been trying not to, if you see what I mean.
I still haven’t quite managed to hang up the receiver when Emma walks in, kisses me hello, and sits down on the couch.
‘So…’ I say. ‘Late. As in…late?’
‘Yup.’
‘And have you…you know?’
‘Not yet.’ She reaches into her handbag, and produces a pregnancy testing kit. ‘But I bought one of these from Boots on the way here. I thought you might want to find out at the same time.’
And I do want to find out. As soon as possible. And I’m sure I know what I want the result to be. I know that Emma knows what I’m hoping for too–after all, we’ve promised not to have any secrets any more. But either way, it doesn’t matter as much now as I used to think it did. After all, we’ve already got Archie.
‘Well, wish me luck, then,’ says Emma, as she heads down the corridor towards the toilet.
It’s a long wait–perhaps the longest wait of my life, and my fingers are starting to go numb from having them crossed so tightly, but eventually she comes back into the room, and although I’m trying hard to read her expression, she’s not giving anything away.
‘Well?’ I ask, my voice an octave or two higher than normal.
Emma sits back down on the couch and doesn’t say anything. But, judging by the smile on her face, she doesn’t need to.
Acknowledgements
Thanks, as ever, to Patrick Walsh, and the team at Conville & Walsh. To Kate Lyall Grant and everyone at Simon & Schuster, and Digby Halsby, publicist extraordinaire. To my parents, for their love and support. To Tina–ditto. To Tony Heywood, Lawrence Davison, Chris Raby and Stewart Holness, because I couldn’t make it all up myself. To Mike Gayle, for being such a great bloke. To Kate Harrison, for the coffee and sanity. And lastly, to the Board–without you, my days at the office would be much lonelier affairs.
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