by Adele Geras
Once she was in the car, once they were on their way to Haywards Heath to fetch Poppy, she began to feel tired and slightly depressed again.
After a while, Jake said, ‘You okay? You’re very quiet …’ He shot her a quick look and a smile and then turned his eyes to the road.
‘I’m fine, just tired.’
‘Go to sleep. Really. We’ve got at least half an hour.’
‘I think I will. Thanks, Jake.’
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the seat. As she drifted into sleep, she became aware of a hand moving over her hair, softly, very softly and then adjusting the cardigan that was draped over her shoulder, covering up her bare arm. Did he think she was asleep? Did he want her to know he’d touched her? Lou didn’t care. He’d stroked her hair …
11
‘I think it’s very kind of Mummy to ask us out to dinner. We can have a … well, a bit of a celebration. Have you told her about your new little brother?’ Gareth grinned at Tamsin and, like a human lighthouse, turned his head and the beam of his happy smile on Nessa too. She smiled back. Well, he had just had a son and whatever anyone said, men did go all gooey when a male child was born. Nothing you could do about it but disapprove and have another glass of wine to show how delighted you were. He was here in the restaurant, ready to hand Tamsin over for the weekend. Melanie, naturally, had sailed through the entire process with no trouble at all, and everything surrounding the birth was positively jubilant and positive and life-affirming, quite unlike her own painful experience, which still made her shudder in horror even after eight years. It was quite true that the whole thing had been worth it in the end because of Tamsin, but the actual process itself hadn’t been a pleasant one.
‘Congratulations, Gareth,’ she said. ‘And you, Tamsin, sweetheart. You’re a big sister now! Isn’t that lovely?’ She found that she, too, was doing the beaming thing, and added, ‘I think we’ll go and find a nice cuddly toy for him tomorrow. Okay? Have you decided on his name yet?’
‘Barnaby,’ said Tamsin. ‘Barney for short.’
‘Lovely!’ said Nessa, while privately believing the name would be very much more suitable for a teddy bear.
The waiter came with their pizzas, and for a few moments they chewed away in harmony. Nessa looked around. The restaurant wasn’t too crowded but there were a few people sitting at tables quite close by: probably enough to stop Gareth from making a scene. She’d gone over and over it in her mind. She’d decided to break the news about Mickey to both of them together, and though of course she could have done so in private, she knew that being in a restaurant meant that Gareth wouldn’t be able to have any kind of row with her. She looked at Tamsin happily eating her pizza and took a deep breath. Here goes, she thought, and smiled at her ex-husband and her daughter.
‘I’m glad you’re both here together, you two, because there’s something I want to tell you. I’ve got a bit of good news of my own that we can celebrate. I’m … well, I’ve fallen in love.’
‘Good for you, Nessa! Who’s the lucky fellow?’ Gareth asked and he sounded genuinely pleased.
‘I’m afraid it’s not a bloke, Gareth. It’s Mickey. Mickey Crawford,’ she added, smiling, making sure they both knew who she meant.
‘But Mickey’s a lady,’ Tamsin said. ‘Ladies can’t fall in love with other ladies.’
‘Yes, they can. It’s …’ Nessa thought for a moment. ‘It’s not what most women prefer, but some do. They fall in love with other women.’ Let’s not, Nessa thought, turn this into a sketch from Little Britain with talk of ‘laydees’. She had been so taken up with Tamsin, with her reaction, with seeing that she had absorbed the information and not been, at first sight anyway, completely traumatized, that she’d hardly glanced at Gareth. She turned to him now, because Tamsin had gone back to her meal. She looked okay, but Gareth … he was clearly about to have some kind of fit. His face had turned dangerously red and he was opening and shutting his mouth like a goldfish. Nessa smiled at him encouragingly and said, ‘Relax, darling. No need to throw a wobbly!’
‘That’s not what I’m doing,’ he spluttered eventually, wiping his mouth with a paper hankie. ‘I’m just … I cannot believe what you’ve just told me. We can’t discuss it now, anyway.’
‘Why on earth not?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Nessa. It’s not – it’s not suitable for our daughter to hear and I don’t want the entire clientele of this restaurant listening in on what’s a very private discussion.’
‘What nonsense, Gareth! There’s nothing whatsoever to discuss. Mickey and I love one another and now that the divorce is through, I’m going to start making arrangements for a civil ceremony.’
If he’d been purple before, what colour was he now? Nessa saw the blood rise in her ex-husband’s face and was amazed at how much of it there must be in his body to produce this strange red and white blotchy effect. She waited for him to return to normalish, which he did after a few moments. He said, ‘You mean, one of those stupid gay marriages.’
‘Isn’t there some kind of law where you’re not allowed to say offensive things like that? I must look into it. Dad’ll know.’
Gareth seized on the mention of Matt. ‘Have you told them? Your parents? They will be thrilled to bits to hear the news. I don’t think!’
‘Lou seemed pleased for me. I was really chuffed at her reaction. And no, I haven’t told Matt and Phyl yet. I don’t imagine they’ll be delighted, but whatever they might feel privately they’ll behave properly. I’d also like to remind you that you’re not related to me any longer. We’re totally separated. By law.’
‘That’s as may be. However, we’re Tamsin’s parents. We’re bound by her …’
‘I’m not bound by anything to sit here and be insulted. Is that really the best you can manage – sneering at my forthcoming wedding?’
‘Wedding?’ Tamsin spoke up, her attention caught by one interesting word shining out from a whole lot of what must, Nessa supposed, be boring ones. It was Tamsin’s turn to grin now. She said, ‘Dad’s having a wedding soon. Melanie says as soon as she’s got her figure back. I’m going to be a bridesmaid. She said I could.’
‘Well, that’ll be lovely, won’t it?’
Tamsin nodded. Nessa went on, ‘How would you like to be a bridesmaid for me and Mickey as well, when we get married?’
‘Silly! Ladies don’t marry other ladies.’ Tamsin looked indulgently at her mother.
‘They do sometimes. They’re allowed to now. And men can marry men.’
‘Shut up, Nessa! She doesn’t need to know all of that. She’s only eight, for God’s sake.’
‘No reason for her not to know it, though. It’s true. It’s going to be happening more and more.’
‘Worse luck. Bloody ridiculous, the whole thing. World’s gone mad.’
Nessa was going to wade in and say something but then stopped herself. Was it mad? There were certainly some people, maybe a few of the business contacts she’d built up through Paper Roses, who might think badly of her and Mickey for coming out, and if they actually declared their love in a civil ceremony, well – that could just be too much for them. I can’t help it, she told herself. It’s right, and it’s good and if anyone can’t come to terms with it, then that’s their problem. They will in the end. They’ll get used to it. And the more it happens, the easier it will be for other women. Or men, come to that.
‘Can I really be a bridesmaid, Mummy?’ Tamsin brought her out of her musings. At least she had her priorities right. ‘I could wear the same dress I’m wearing at Daddy’s wedding, couldn’t I?’
‘I couldn’t get married without you for my bridesmaid, Tamsin. And we’ll get you a whole new outfit too. Push the boat out. We’ll find you the most beautiful bridesmaid’s outfit in the world.’
The last thing she wanted was a wedding that was anything like Gareth’s. She reckoned she could predict pretty much what that would be like but she’d have to check nearer the time.
‘Cool. Can I have some ice-cream, Daddy?’
Gareth passed Tamsin the menu with a bad grace.
‘I don’t know what I’m going to say to my friends,’ he muttered. Nessa smiled at him.
‘They’ll love it. Think of the sympathy you’ll get.’ She leaned over to whisper in his ear, not wanting Tamsin to hear what she was about to say next. ‘They’ll be wondering whether I was what they’ll undoubtedly call a dyke while I was married to you.’
‘You bloody weren’t!’ he exclaimed. ‘That’s what makes all this so crazy. I find it impossible to believe, if you want to know the truth.’
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to it, darling. It’s how things are now.’
*
Lou manoeuvred the pushchair over a rather rough piece of ground and made sure that none of the cuddly toys Poppy insisted on taking with them had fallen out as they walked along. She was in Highgate Wood, which wasn’t exactly smooth underfoot, but which was a lovely place to stroll about in and a much pleasanter way of getting to Jake’s house than struggling up the busy main road which sloped rather steeply. Finding ways of avoiding exhaust fumes, which she always imagined puffing straight into Poppy’s face, was something Lou did all the time.
Jake had offered to meet them at the Tube station. They were invited to tea. It was good of him to include Poppy in the date, but Lou thought she’d have preferred to be tête-à-tête for a change. Since that night at her parents’ house, he’d been in touch by email in a very friendly manner and they’d been to the movies a couple of times. He’d taken her out to lunch, but with some other people from his office, so that she could meet them. He behaved, for ninety-nine per cent of the time, like the person who was publishing her grandfather’s book. But there were occasions when she caught him looking at her and she was knocked back by the emotion she saw, or thought she saw, in his eyes. The other thing about him was, he didn’t speak about himself. At first, this was refreshing. It was fun to be asked about what you thought for a change, and Jake always seemed very eager to hear her opinions about everything. He asked her questions, too, about her youth and especially about her memories of Grandad, and Lou loved talking about those. No one had ever been as interested in him before and it was a relief to Lou to be able to express all the feelings that she’d been unable to share with anyone until now.
‘But,’ she said to Poppy’s back in the pushchair, ‘it’s not fair, is it? Hey? He doesn’t tell me anything. For all I know he’s married with three children. I’d never know. Well, maybe we’ll find out when we get to his house. D’you reckon he’s ready for you, Poppy? You’re going to be on your best behaviour, aren’t you?’
‘Ducks!’ Poppy said. ‘Quack!’
‘No, we’re not going to see the ducks today, darling. We’re going to tea. A tea party.’
‘Party!’ Poppy was mollified. Parties were even better than ducks in her world view and Lou immediately felt guilty.
‘Not a real party,’ she said. ‘A nice man. A nice house. Cake!’
‘Doggies!’ Thank heavens her daughter’s eye had been caught by a couple holding the leashes of three dogs who gambolled and barked and frisked in a way specifically designed to entertain a child. She hoped that Poppy would have forgotten the promise of a party by the time they got there.
Jake’s house turned out to be a white-stuccoed semi-detached. From the outside, it didn’t look any different from its neighbours: a small paved bit in the front, with a few shrubs growing in pots under the window and a front door painted dark blue. Jake was waiting on the doorstep.
‘You made it! I nearly came to find you in the wood.’
‘We got a bit sidetracked. There were dogs we had to look at. Sorry …’
‘No, it’s okay. I knew it was probably something like that. Did you like the dogs, Poppy?’ He was crouching down, undoing the straps on the pushchair. Poppy held her arms out and shouted, ‘Yake!’ at the top of her voice. She really likes him, Lou thought, folding up the pushchair. Does that mean anything? Probably not. Poppy liked everyone who wasn’t positively unkind to her and so far she hadn’t met any of those. Fleetingly, Lou wondered what life would be like if you never, ever met any horrible people, nor anyone who was nasty to you. Dream on, she thought. Doesn’t happen. One of these days, even Poppy would discover the truth that not everyone wished her well, but till she did Lou was happy to let her think the world was nothing but sweetness and light.
‘I hope,’ Jake said over his shoulder as he carried Poppy into the house, ‘that your kid likes my toys. I’ve put out all my best stuff.’
‘Wow! Look at that, Poppy.’ The carpet was covered with so many wonderful things that Poppy was silenced for a moment. Jake set her down and she looked around her, trying to take in what was spread out on the carpet: a set of Russian dolls, a wooden Noah’s Ark with about twenty pairs of creatures to go in it, a collection of coloured cardboard boxes, a basket full of painted wooden eggs and a whole lot of plastic bowls of various sizes in pretty pastel colours which Lou recognized as Tesco’s cheapo barbecue range from last summer.
Poppy settled down to play and Lou sat down on a nearby armchair, near enough to scoop her up if she got it into her head to attack Jake’s more fragile possessions.
‘This is amazing, Jake. Are they really all yours?’
‘Yup. I had to go up to the attic to fetch the Noah’s Ark down, but it’s good to have it out where I can see it. I loved it when I was a kid. My family thought I was crazy to bring all this stuff over here to the UK, but I didn’t see a reason to leave any of it behind. As you see, I’m a bit of a hoarder.’
‘Lucky for Poppy. She’s in heaven. You’re very good with babies, Jake. Have you got children of your own?’
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Lou regretted them. She bent towards Poppy, helping her to put an elephant into the ark.
‘Kids? Me? No, of course not. What made you think that?’
‘Well …’ Okay, Lou thought. Now that the subject’s come up, I’ll forge on. ‘You might be married.’
‘Married? Don’t you think you would have noticed?’
‘Not necessarily. You’ve never said either way. For all I knew, till today, you might have had a wife in the USA – or even here in England. Or an ex-wife. It wasn’t really my business to ask you, only now …’
‘Now what?’
‘I’d like to know.’
‘No, Lou, I’m not married. Never have been. I’m single.’
‘Right,’ Lou said. All the fanciful things she’d been thinking about Jake disappeared in a moment. She’d imagined him a romantic widower, with a wife and child killed in a terrible accident. She’d thought he might be divorced, with a terrible harridan in the background, busy sucking every penny out of him. She’d wondered if he might be gay, but then dismissed this thought when he kissed her, though that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Or did it? Anyway, whatever she’d dreamed up, the truth was much simpler. He was single.
‘May I ask you something else?’
‘Sure. No secrets here. Ask whatever you like.’
‘How old are you?’
‘How old d’you think I am?’
‘I’ve no idea. I’ve wondered … I reckon,’ she looked at him carefully, ‘mid-thirties?’
‘Spot on. Thirty-five.’
Twelve years older than she was – why did she think of his age in relation to her own? She was surprised that Jake, to all intents and purposes the most eligible person in the world, had managed to avoid getting hooked for this long. She was longing to ask him. He’d asked her directly about herself and she’d been only too happy to tell him her entire life story in detail. He knew about Ray. She’d even told him about Harry. The only thing she hadn’t mentioned was the screenplay she’d written. That was too private to talk about until she knew what Ciaran Donnelly thought of it.
‘I’m surprised you’ve managed to stay single,’ she said in the end. ‘You l
ike children … I’d have thought …’
‘Just because I’m single doesn’t mean to say I haven’t got a tragic past.’ He was smiling as he spoke.
‘Of course not. I’m sorry … do you have one? A tragic past, I mean.’
‘Not an operatic sort of tragedy. Common enough story, I’m afraid. I had a long relationship with a married woman. My stupidity. My youth. Anyway, she didn’t leave her husband for me and since then, well, it’s been a few years and I’ve been busy setting up Golden Ink. You know how it is …’
‘You moved to the UK. Was that because of her?’
‘Partly, I guess. But I’ve always wanted to live in London. Early exposure to Dickens. You don’t get over that. I love it here. And I go back and forth a lot to the States.’
Poppy was being too good. She appeared totally absorbed in the Noah’s Ark and wasn’t going to provide any immediate diversion. Lou would have to continue with this conversation and she had no idea what to say next. This had never happened to her before with Jake. There always seemed to be plenty to talk about and discuss but now that kiss – very carefully not referred to during the last couple of weeks – seemed to loom in front of her. Perhaps she’d blown it up out of all proportion …
‘Lou?’ Jake’s voice broke in on her thoughts.
‘Sorry, Jake, I was miles away.’
‘Bet I know what you were thinking.’
‘Bet you don’t.’
‘Bet I do. I was thinking the same thing.’
Lou smiled. ‘How d’you know?’
‘I do, that’s all.’
‘Go on, then. What was it?’
‘The night we were at your parents’ house. I kissed you. You were thinking about that and so was I.’
‘No, that’s wrong. I wasn’t.’
‘You’re lying. You were.’
Lou covered her face with her hands. ‘How did you know? I was fibbing, of course I was, but how did you know?’
‘You’re blushing. Don’t you know that you are?’
Lou nodded. ‘I s’pose so. I do know I am really.’