Isabel nodded as tears filled her eyes. ‘Yes, my grandson.’
‘I was just taking him for his morning stroll in the park. Would you like to come with us?’
Isabel nodded. ‘I’d like that very much.’
The next morning, Meg was in the bath as Pru fed Lucas his bottle and watched as he lay with his eyes closed and his milk-filled tum rising and falling in rhythm with his sleep.
‘There we go, little man.’ She held the empty bottle up to the light. ‘You’ve guzzled that. Won’t be long till we get you on steak and chips or one of my lovely cakes, how about that, Lucas?’
His perfect pouty mouth was open and milk dribbled over his dimpled cheek as he smiled through his dream. Pru stroked his face and wondered what someone so new to this world dreamed about. Her stomach ached with love for this little helpless thing, who at that moment was lying with the posture of a drunk, sprawled with arms wide and head lolling against the cushion. A familiar voice broke the lull, and Pru looked up quickly, recognising the outline of the face on the TV screen. It was Christopher, addressing the House in his confident baritone. Pru’s tears came quickly, without invitation or consideration. She clutched Lucas against her chest and cried into his sweet-scented scalp.
Pru didn’t see Milly standing in the doorway and taking in the scene, a fierce anger burning in her eyes. Neither did she hear her slip out of the flat and jump in a taxi.
‘The Palace of Westminster, please. And be quick about it.’
20
It was unseasonably cold for July, but at least the sky was bright blue. Wisps of cloud floated by on a determined breeze and birds circled overhead. It was peaceful, far away from the city and the noise of traffic and people. The grass was well tended, with just the odd patch of gorse poking through. The grey and green landscape was broken up by clumps of wild ox-eye daisies that grew tightly packed in abundance, providing pockets of white and yellow that drew your eye. It was a good place to come and have a think, away from the hustle and bustle and a useful reminder of the fragility of life. Meg liked it there.
The small, simple gravestone stood under a sprawling oak tree. The spot had been chosen deliberately for the sense of protection it offered. Meg used one hand to gather her coat closely around her neck and hesitated before dropping to her knees, not caring about the sap and damp soil that clung to her legs and stained her tights. She didn’t care about much as she sank down, staring at the arc of granite before bowing her head. She ran her hand over the simply styled young stone, touching her fingers lightly against the words that were so beautifully inscribed: Much loved, always missed. It was perfect.
‘I miss you, you know. I miss you every day. I know we didn’t get a lifetime together, but what we did have changed my life and you changed me. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. Ever. I want you to know that. I love you. I love you now and I’ll love you always.’ She swiped at the tears that trickled down her cheeks. The sound of footsteps snapping a branch underfoot made her look up.
Isabel approached and squatted down next to Meg. ‘It’s a lovely spot, isn’t it?’ She patted Meg’s back.
Meg nodded. ‘Yes it is. I’m really glad you chose this place.’
‘It brings me peace, coming here.’ Isabel gave a small sad sigh.
‘I can see why.’
‘They’re all waiting, if you’re ready?’
Meg stood up and brushed the dirt from her coat and palms, then ran her fingers through her hair. ‘I’m a bit nervous. How do I look?’
‘You look lovely, like the mother of a little boy about to get christened.’
Meg cocked her head. ‘Poor little sod. I can’t believe you talked me into letting him wear Bill’s old christening gown – he looks like a girl!’
‘He doesn’t! He looks absolutely beautiful.’
‘I think you might be a little biased.’ Meg laughed. ‘It’s amazing you arranged all this so quickly!’
Isabel allowed herself a smile. She had thrown herself into organising the christening with almost the same gusto she’d lavished on the engagement party. It had dusted off her old spirit, given her a jolt. She had been relieved to find her old self emerging through the fog of sadness and confusion. She doubted she would ever be free of grieving for William, but Lucas was a wonderful little bonus that she could never have imagined. She turned and flicked her head in the direction of the church. ‘See you in there.’
Meg knelt down again, kissed her fingers and touched them against William and Bobby’s gravestone. ‘I don’t ’arf miss you. Especially today. Oh, Bill, if you could see that boy of ours, you’d be so proud. But you’re always with us, aren’t you, watching over our shoulders. Milly told me that. And I know your dad was always with you, wasn’t he, Bobby? Anyway, I’ve got to go. Wish me luck.’
She turned and walked towards the little church, smiling as she made her way through the heavy door and up the aisle to where Lucas was wriggling in his Aunty Milly’s arms. Milly was cooing back at him. Meg’s cousin Liam and his flatmate Rocky stood beside them, looking dapper in bow ties and snug suit jackets over their jeans.
The vicar nodded at the little group and began the service. Just as he spoke the words, ‘This baptism is recognition of the inherent divinity of this child, and our commitment to love him,’ the door creaked and in hurried Pru. She mouthed ‘Sorry!’, flustered that her meeting had overrun, leaving her transport plans in disarray. She slotted in next to Milly and blew a kiss at Lucas, who was dressed in a rather ornate white lace nightie. He looked beautiful.
After the church ceremony, the little crowd gathered in Isabel’s kitchen at Mountfield, sipping champagne and devouring the cakes that Plum Patisserie had created to celebrate the day. There were mini doughnuts filled with crème anglaise and dusted with powdered sugar, individual ginger and rhubarb cheesecakes topped with elaborate baskets of gold sugarwork, and, of course, the christening cake. The large square fruitcake was covered in white royal icing and decorated with piped ropes of icing along the edges. Across the top, in a fine rolling script of the palest blue, was written Lucas William Fellsley and in the top right corner there was a single gold star, to represent his daddy.
Milly rocked Lucas on her hip and looked out of the window.
‘Hello there, godmother!’ Meg approached with a glass of fizz in her hand.
‘Ah, hello, we were just having a chat.’
‘Oh yeah? What are you chatting about?’
‘About my godmotherly duties. The first one being to make sure his mummy doesn’t get so pissed that she throws up in the car on the way home – that kind of thing!’
‘Ha ha! I’ve only had one!’ Meg raised her glass.
‘Sure you have and I’m Madonna.’
‘Well, Madonna, when you’ve quite finished, his bum needs changing.’ Meg placed the clean nappy on Milly’s head, which she wore like a hat. It made Lucas gurgle.
Rocky and Liam sauntered over. Liam touched his finger to Lucas’s cheek. ‘All right, little mate?’
‘Do you want to hold him?’ Milly offered.
‘Nah!’ Liam took a step backwards. ‘I might drop him.’
Milly shrugged. ‘Doubtful.’
Rocky stepped forward in his place. ‘Is it true that christenings are like weddings, where the best man gets off with the main bridesmaid? So like the godmother and godfather have to get together?’
Milly looked him and Liam up and down: they had a combined age that was still decades younger than hers. ‘It most certainly is not!’ She smirked, however, despite herself. ‘Cheeky sods.’
The boys left the kitchen a bit sharpish, laughing and looking for somewhere they could have a sneaky fag.
Milly tickled Lucas under the chin and thrust the nappy back at Meg. ‘I’ve been meaning to tell you something, Meg.’ She hesitated, looked out over the grass. ‘I think that you end up with the people in your life that you are supposed to have and I think I’m meant to have you and Lucas in mine.
And I’m so sorry for how we started, Meg, truly sorry. I was so messed up over Bobby, but I should never, ever have taken it out on you. I shall regret it, always.’
‘Oh shut up, Milly, you’re stuck with us now!’ Meg pecked her on the cheek.
Pru and Isabel sat side by side at the kitchen table.
‘He’s a poppet, isn’t he?’ Pru looked at Isabel, who nodded.
‘He really is.’
‘Does he look like William?’ Pru wondered.
William’s mother sighed. ‘Not identical, but bits of him, yes. His little smile is similar and he’s the same type of baby – placid, sweet. William was always like that – until he got to school, and then it was a whole different story!’
‘I’m glad,’ Pru said. ‘I like to think William was a bit naughty, lived a life!’
Isabel gestured to Meg, who was fooling around with the nappy and making a fuss of Lucas. ‘I’d say she’s evidence enough of that!’ She inhaled sharply and sipped her champagne. Then she leant in. ‘I want to tell you something, Pru.’
‘Fire away!’
‘On the day of the engagement party, when people were leaving, I couldn’t find William anywhere. Bobby was dancing away, having the time of her life!’ Isabel paused at the memory. ‘I came into the house and I don’t know why, call it instinct, but I went up to William’s old room and he was sitting there on the bed. He looked like he had been crying. Apart from when his father died, I hadn’t seen him like that since he was a child and it was awkward for us both. I sat next to him on the bed and asked him what was wrong. He was very vague, but he said something that stayed with me.’ She drew breath. ‘He said he wanted some peace. I put my arm around him and I said to him, “What on earth could be making you so sad on a day like this? Are you missing Dad?” Because to be truthful that’s all I could think of, I guess that’s because I was missing him too, always do at any function.’ Pru saw the flicker across her eyes. You would never have guessed, Isabel, the life and soul.
‘But he shook his head and turned towards me. I could smell that he had been drinking, but it was that sort of party, wasn’t it? I didn’t think much of it. He tried to smile at me, but it was difficult for him, as though he had too much going on in his head. I tried to guess then what the problem might be. I asked him if he had last-minute nerves or felt things were going too fast. I was trying to work out how I could make it better for him.’ She paused. ‘Again, he shook his head and then he said, “No, Mum, nothing like that, but I’ve messed up.” That’s what he said, “I’ve messed up,” and then he said it again, “I just want peace.”’
Pru listened, not knowing how to relieve the guilt that dripped from her every word. Isabel continued. ‘I didn’t know what he meant of course and put it down to the drink talking. I thought maybe he was referring to the overly long two-day party; maybe he was tired, wanted to sleep. Maybe he had something going on at work. I thought all sorts, but never, ever that he had got himself into real trouble. Then when you called, it was as if every word that he had spoken on that night came sharply to my mind. I think this was what he was talking about.’
‘Probably, Isabel, but it wouldn’t have made any difference. They had an accident and everything else is incidental.’
Isabel shot her a sideways look. ‘I know.’ She twisted her fingers together. ‘But maybe his cluttered head led to that accident, maybe they were fighting? And I keep thinking that if only I’d been there for him, talked to him about what was really bothering him, intervened, he might not have crashed.’
‘It doesn’t work that way.’
‘I know it doesn’t, but that won’t change how I feel.’ Isabel emptied her glass and reached for the bottle. ‘For the last couple of months, it’s felt like I’ve been trapped in a black hole and I couldn’t see how to climb out. Then Lucas popped up and it’s as if he has brought me back to life.’ Isabel smiled, warmly this time. ‘It’s almost as if William left me an amazing gift.’
‘That’s exactly what he did, he left you an amazing gift.’ Pru patted her hand.
‘I do wonder if he would have come clean eventually. He’d have had to, wouldn’t he? One way or another.’
‘Maybe. Who knows.’ Pru sipped at her glass.
‘Not us, I guess.’ Isabel looked at Pru. ‘It’s a shame Christopher couldn’t make it.’
‘Yes,’ Pru muttered, thinking the exact opposite. She didn’t know how she would have faced him in front of all these people.
‘I had high hopes for you two, you know.’
‘You weren’t the only one!’ Milly slapped the table with a plate laden with goodies and sat down to join them. ‘I thought I’d finally got her off my hands!’
‘Well, it just didn’t work out.’ Pru gave an insincere grin. ‘These things often don’t.’ Oh, but I wanted it to, I wanted it so badly. I loved him. I love him.
‘I have intentionally avoided the papers, Pru. I think your business should remain just that, and let’s face it, who among us hasn’t got a few tales rattling around in the back of the wardrobe. I know William certainly would have.’ Isabel looked over at Meg and Lucas. Pru gratefully acknowledged her acceptance. ‘It’s a shame though. You seemed very natural together. He seemed so happy.’
Pru fixed her smile again, trying to remain calm as her pulse raced and her heart ached at the wasted opportunity. Isabel wasn’t done. ‘He phoned me when you got back from Salcombe and he sounded full of the joys. I hadn’t heard him like that before. He said you had “raked the embers of his heart”, which was most poetic for an old pragmatist like Christopher. I thought it was quite beautiful.’
‘Will you excuse me?’ Pru almost ran to the loo, where she splashed her face with cold water and stared at her reflection. ‘You silly moo, Pru, get a grip. You’re sixty-six, not sixteen. Hiding in a loo with a broken heart! Come on, girl.’ She straightened up, reapplied her lip-gloss and brushed her hair. She wished for the first time that she had never met Christopher. It would have been easier. It was somehow worse to have been shown the prize and then had it snatched out of sight.
As she made her way back along the corridor, she stopped at the sound of a voice she recognised. Oh dear God, please no, no! But her God wasn’t listening. She looked through the kitchen door and there he was, being introduced to baby Lucas.
‘And this is your Great Uncle Christopher!’ Isabel scooped up the baby and plonked him in her brother’s arms.
‘Hello, little fella. How are you doing?’ He handled the baby awkwardly, embarrassed to be responsible for him, unsure if he was doing it right.
‘I thought you couldn’t make it?’ Isabel trilled.
‘I didn’t think I could, but I finished a little earlier than I expected and got my driver to take a detour, so here I am! Just a flying visit, but enough to say hello to Lucas.’
‘He’s happy to meet his Uncle Chris,’ Milly interjected, ‘aren’t you, darling boy?’ She leant in and kissed the baby in Christopher’s arms.
‘And you must be Meg?’ Christopher said.
Meg nodded; quiet, aware that she was being scrutinised.
‘He’s a lovely boy.’ Christopher smoothed Lucas’s tufty hair.
‘He is usually,’ Meg said, ‘but today he’s been dressed up like a girl!’
Christopher gave his ready laugh. ‘Yes, he has rather.’
‘I didn’t want him to wear that horrible frock, but Isabel insisted. I mean, who in their right mind would put a boy in that?’
‘Ah, I’m afraid that would be my mother’s fault. This was my christening gown originally.’
‘Oh shit, sorry.’ Meg grimaced. The champagne had more than loosened her tongue. ‘Hey, here’s Pru!’ she announced over his shoulder.
Christopher turned and the two stared at each other. It was an almost instinctive reflex: his face broke into a smile at the sight of her, which she returned. ‘There you are,’ he seemed to be saying. And just for a second it was as if there were just the two of them
and they were happy to be in close proximity. Like it had been in Salcombe, lying on the beach, or holding hands across the console of the car.
Lucas squirmed and Christopher turned away to deal with the task in hand, concentrating on not dropping him. ‘I think you better have him back, I’m not used to babies!’ He laughed.
‘Not used to babies, but would have loved to have been a granddad,’ Pru murmured. She didn’t realise she’d said the words out loud.
Christopher turned to her as Lucas was lifted from his arms. ‘That’s right.’ He smiled. ‘Something else for me to lament in my old age.’
‘Oh yes, I’m sure. What else will you “lament”, as you put it? Telling my story to the world? Betraying my trust?’ These last words she whispered.
Christopher stepped forward and gripped her by the top of her arm. ‘Come on.’ He practically marched her out to the garden. Isabel, Milly and all present watched, the conversation lowered to a hush.
They walked at pace until they reached the edge of the lake, where they had spent that first glorious afternoon. Finally he released her arm and put his hands on his waist inside his suit jacket. ‘I tried to explain to you, that day in the park. I told you that it wasn’t my doing. There are a team of people that work on damage limitation and it was taken out of my hands.’
‘Damage limitation? Listen to yourself, Chris. I’m not one of your political hiccups, a piece of legislation or a debate, I’m a person! A person who has worked very hard her whole life, and your “team” could have taken all that away from me.’ She shook her head. ‘It might just be a salacious story for people to ogle over breakfast, but it’s so much more than that to me, Chris, it’s my life! My whole life laid bare!’
‘I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.’ He looked out towards the water.
‘What exactly are you sorry for? Sorry you hurt me? Sorry we ever met?’
He rounded on her quickly. ‘Sorry we ever met? I loved you! I thought we had a future. I was making plans, I—’
A Little Love Page 25