An Autumn Crush

by Milly Johnson

  Guy had rung Juliet to ascertain whether Floz had any food allergies other than strawberries, because he wasn’t going to take any chances. Luckily, she hadn’t. He was doing his speciality sea-bass for starter, a feast of various meats for mains and a trio of chocolate desserts for pudding. He was going to tickle every one of her senses with this menu. He would seduce her with food: she would be putty in his hands.

  Floz sat alone in the flat, finding it hard to concentrate on that day’s brief – ‘Congratulations On Your Pregnancy’ verse. She looked at the visual images that Lee Status had emailed over for her to match with the copy. The graphic designer had created some stunning pictures of beatific women with big rounded tums. Floz thought of Juliet growing bigger by the day, how her stomach would push proudly against her clothes, how her walk would alter, how she would rest her hand on her abdomen and feel the baby flutter inside her. She pictured Juliet and Steve lying on the bed, and being fascinated as they watched her tummy shift as the baby rolled within, wriggling to get comfortable. She thought of Juliet asleep in a rocking chair, lulling the baby to sleep with her calm, soft breathing. She would look beautiful.

  But Floz sent an email to Lee Status and lied that she had a stomach bug and wouldn’t be able to do the brief. Then she curled up on her bed and tried to make her mind go blank so she could sleep, but gave it up after nearly an hour.

  She got up hearing the alert that she had email. Chas Hanson had sent her a message. Had it been in an envelope, she would have ripped it open.

  Floz

  Just checking all is okay with you.Remember that greif loses its hard edge after a time and the wonderful residue is a collection of warm memories.I just thought that might give you comfort.

  Chas

  Floz read the mail over and over again. She didn’t know if that was true; some grief lodged in your heart and never lost its hard edge – you just learned to co-exist. Still, it was a kind thought to send, to try and comfort her. It was like something Nick would have said.

  Steve was first to arrive at the Millers’ house. He had just picked up his new car. In light of the circumstances, he had traded in his Volvo for a seven-seater people-carrier with a massive boot, comfy seats and a zillion safety features: the perfect family car. He drove it off the forecourt imagining baby car seats in the back and Juliet with a ring on her finger sitting next to him, and probably instructing him how to drive properly. It was a much bigger turbo thrill than he could ever have got from a four-litre fuel-injected engine.

  Coco arrived next, by taxi, making an extravagant and kissy entrance and marvelling over Juliet’s solitaire diamond engagement ring. He was alone because apparently Gideon was far too shy to meet everyone at once in a big gathering.

  ‘Are you sure he even exists?’ Steve teased him. ‘No one has seen him yet.’

  ‘Look.’ Coco fumbled with his mobile phone for a moment then thrust it under Steve’s nose. ‘Here is a picture of us taken together.’ The image was blurred and dark though. All Steve could tell was that it was two male heads together.

  ‘That could be anyone,’ he objected.

  ‘Well, it isn’t. It’s Gideon and me, so there,’ said Coco huffily.

  ‘Champagne, Raymond?’ asked Grainne, proffering a long flute of pink fizz.

  ‘If I must.’ Coco sighed dramatically. There were only three people whom he still allowed to call him Raymond to his face: the Millers and his grandma. Mind you, his granny was a bit senile now and more often than not called him Brenda.

  ‘SHIT!’ The exclamation from the kitchen accompanied a clatter of pans falling on the floor.

  ‘Everything all right in the galley?’ called Perry, shivering with delight as the champagne made a glacial trail down the inside of his throat.

  ‘Fine, Dad,’ replied Guy, convincing no one.

  ‘Want me to help you, dear?’ asked Grainne.

  ‘No, no, no,’ everyone cried in protest.

  Someone rang the doorbell and Guy’s heart leaped up into his mouth. It had to be Floz and Juliet arriving. Guy made a quick check of himself in the small mirror that hung on the kitchen wall. Then he went out to say, ‘Hi’ – except there was no Floz, just his sister.

  ‘Isn’t Floz coming?’ he barked nervously.

  ‘She’s parking the car,’ said Juliet. ‘We’re going to leave it here and pick it up tomorrow. Oh hello, Juliet, nice to see you, Juliet!’ she added sarcastically.

  ‘Nice to see you, Juliet,’ said Guy on a great big exhalation of breath before going back into the kitchen.

  ‘What’s up with him?’ Juliet asked Steve, thumbing at her brother’s disappearing back.

  ‘You know what he’s like when he’s cooking – a perfectionist.’

  ‘Why did he say Floz’s name so aggressively? Doesn’t he want her here?’

  ‘Don’t be daft.’ Steve laughed a little nervously because he didn’t want to spill Guy’s secret. Especially not to Juliet with her big gob.

  But Juliet picked up from that tinny laugh that Steve knew a little more than he was letting on. Maybe Floz was right, after all, and her brother didn’t like her that much. How odd.

  Floz parked the car almost absently. Chas’s last mail was circling her brain like a hungry buzzard. Grief loses its hard edge after a time . . . She didn’t know why she was mentally chewing on his words. She just hoped her brain would work out what it was doing and spit out the answer to her.

  She straightened her dress, a jade-green one with a belted waist. It picked out the green in her eyes and made the colour of her hair like bonfire flames by comparison. She rang the doorbell, the words of that last email from Chas still playing like a stuck record.

  Guy heard Floz arrive. He bobbed his head out of the kitchen to see her there dressed in green, her hair in soft curls around her shoulders. He raised a giant arm, said, ‘Hi,’ and retreated back into the kitchen before Floz could return the gesture.

  Now Juliet could see exactly what Floz meant. He couldn’t have given Floz a shorter greeting if he’d tried. Well, that wouldn’t do. She would mend that bridge if it killed her. She couldn’t have her friend and her brother out of sorts with each other.

  Coco made up for Guy’s coldness. He bounced over to give Floz a big hug and passed her on for hello kisses to the rest of the Miller family and Steve.

  ‘Wonder how Piers is going to take the news of your impending change of circumstance?’ said Steve, nudging his champagne flute into Juliet’s glass of Eisberg.

  ‘I wonder,’ she said. She did not add that Piers, presently in London, had sent her a flurry of texts begging her to go out on a second date with him, and that she had replied that she had been swept off her feet and proposed to – quite unexpectedly – by ‘an old flame relighted’ as she put it. She didn’t mention the pregnancy, that was perhaps one detail too cruel to give to a man so obviously enamoured. And, also, best mentioned later on, formally, when discussing her maternity leave.

  She giggled to herself, thinking that she had turned down Piers Winstanley-Black for Steve. She took a sly look at him whilst he was laughing with her dad and Coco. How could I ever have thought he was a knob? He was so tall and big and solid and handsome, and his hand kept brushing her arm as if he liked the feeling of being constantly in touch with her. It was knicker-meltingly romantic. She hadn’t felt as runny inside for any man – ever. Not even Roger in the beginning, when he made her sigh a lot with his corny lines snatched straight from crap B films – though at the time they sounded macho and fabulous.

  ‘How’s the . . . er . . . courting going, Raymond?’ asked Perry, who was trying to be part of the twenty-first century but still found it a little odd to ask one man how he was romancing another one.

  ‘Oh, Perry, I’ve found my soul-mate. We’ll be like you and Grainne one day.’

  ‘What about you, Floz?’ asked Grainne. ‘Have you found yourself a nice young man to settle down with?’

  All eyes turned to Floz. Even in the kitchen
Guy downed tools to cock his ear.

  I did and I lost him and he came back and he died.

  Floz swallowed hard and a glassy cast swelled in her eyes. Her discomfort was evident to all. Juliet leaped in to rescue her.

  ‘God, how embarrassing are parents? Let’s all sit at the table and await the food,’ she said, giving her mum a disapproving look.

  Steve and Coco and Juliet exchanged knowing glances. Juliet was now 100 per cent convinced that Floz was having some secret man trouble. And she made up her mind to find out once and for all what was going on in Floz’s life that was making her so depressed. Guy returned to plating up the sea-bass, wondering why Floz hadn’t answered the question and why everyone had hurried to sit down. It would have been easy enough to say, ‘No, not yet.’ So why hadn’t she?

  ‘Dinner is served,’ he said, appearing with the first five plates balanced on his arms. He served the ladies first, something Kenny’s idiot waiters never did, however much Guy had bollocked them for it. He took his place at the end of the table, next to Floz, because that’s where Juliet had directed her to sit. She was going to make sure they became friends.

  The fish was beautifully cooked – a triumph. Everyone was making noises of approval.

  ‘How nice was that?’ sighed Juliet, blotting her lips with her serviette. ‘Aren’t you a catch for some lucky single woman?’

  Steve raised his eyes heavenward. He hoped Juliet wasn’t going to try and do some match-making.

  ‘Isn’t he, Floz? Isn’t he a catch?’ Juliet nudged Floz hard.

  Steve kicked Juliet under the table and when she swung her eyes around to him, he gave her a warning look.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ said Floz, staring bashfully at her empty plate.

  ‘Let me help you clear the plates,’ said Steve, quickly standing and gathering them up, following Guy into the kitchen, where his friend immediately turned on him.

  ‘Tell me you haven’t said anything to Juliet?’

  ‘No, I haven’t,’ Steve protested in a strained whisper. ‘Do you honestly think I’d tell her that you fancy the arse off Floz?’

  ‘What’s she playing at then?’ said Guy.

  ‘Fuck knows,’ said Steve. ‘Just dish up the main course and fill her gob so she can’t talk.’

  Conversation in the dining room turned to weddings as Guy began to carve up the crown of turkey and Steve the tender leg of lamb.

  ‘I don’t want a big frock,’ said Juliet.

  ‘You have to have the full meringue!’ screamed Coco in disgust. ‘You can’t have a crappy plain one. And what are you doing about bridesmaids?’

  ‘Floz, of course,’ said Juliet. ‘And you as the male equivalent. I want you to walk down the aisle behind me, though I wouldn’t expect you to wear a dress, obviously.’

  ‘Thank goodness,’ snorted Coco. ‘I’m not a tranny!’

  ‘Oh how lovely,’ said Floz. ‘I’ve never been a bridesmaid before.’

  ‘Me neither,’ chirped Coco. ‘What colour will we be in?’

  ‘I’m thinking autumn colours,’ mused Juliet, harking back to that conversation with Daphne about her own autumn wedding.

  ‘Ooh, plush.’ Coco gave a shriek of glee.

  ‘You’ll have to get started on the arrangements, Juliet.’ Grainne took a sip of wine. ‘By my reckoning you’ve only got about thirty-five days until November the fifth.’

  ‘Chuffing hell,’ said Juliet.

  ‘Well, if you can’t pull this off, no one can,’ smiled Floz. ‘You’re a true tour de force.’

  Steve and Guy started to ferry in bowls of vegetables and perfectly puffed-up Yorkshire puddings.

  ‘Oh, by the way, we booked the Oak Leaf for the reception this morning,’ announced Juliet, expecting rightly that everyone would look at her aghast. ‘I know what you’re going to say, but I didn’t want you cooking on my big day, Guy. Plus Burgerov is a shit-hole.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Guy. ‘It’s a shame but it won’t be refurbished in time for your wedding otherwise I wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. I could do the catering for you somewhere else if you—’

  ‘No way do I want you doing anything on that day but joining in the festivities and being best man. It’s decided. So don’t give me any grief about it.’

  Grief loses its hard edge after a time . . .

  ‘So, what are you going to do with the flat?’ asked Perry, spearing a large crunchy roast potato.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Juliet replied, through a mouthful of caramelized carrot.

  ‘Well, I presume you’ll be moving in with Steve. You can’t get a pram up and down those stairs in Blackberry Court. There’s no lift, is there?’

  Juliet dropped her fork. Things had happened so fast she hadn’t thought about any practicalities like that. Her dad was right, although Steve’s place would be too tiny really for long-term plans – just having the one bedroom. And if she did sell, where would Floz go? She looked up at Floz and saw that she had just been hit by the same thunderbolt. And if she had looked to the side, she would have noticed that the thunderbolt had managed to floor Guy too.

  ‘Floz,’ said Juliet. ‘I hadn’t even thought about the flat.’

  ‘Well, it’s certainly something you need to think about,’ said Floz in a calm voice that masked the inner turmoil that had just been unleashed in her. She had been living with Juliet for less than two months now, but it felt so much like a home. What were the chances of her finding a flat and flat-mate like this again? She had been too lucky living in lovely Blackberry Court with Juliet and being absorbed into this wonderful family. The prospect of leaving their warm world was a shivery cold one.

  Juliet burst into tears.

  ‘Hormones!’ was Grainne’s verdict as she quickly stood to put her arm around her daughter.

  ‘Oh Floz, I’m so sorry,’ sobbed Juliet. ‘I honestly never thought about having to move out of the flat.’

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ said Floz, her smile brave.

  ‘I love my flat,’ wept Juliet. ‘I hate Steve’s house.’

  ‘I hate it myself,’ said Steve. ‘We’ll have to get rid of both and buy something else. It’s hardly big enough for me, never mind you and a baby as well.’

  ‘Or babies,’ Grainne threw into the mix.

  ‘Oh my GOD I could be carrying twins!’ Juliet couldn’t bear any more thunderbolts. Her family was a twin factory. She and Guy were fifth-generation twins. ‘How long will it take to sell up and move?’ The enormity of having to sell two properties as well as have a baby and arrange a marriage fell on Juliet like a ton of rubble and made her tears flow faster.

  ‘Oh God, what have I done?’ said Perry, unable to remember the last time he’d ever seen his daughter cry. ‘Me and my big mouth.’

  ‘Well, at least Floz could move into Guy’s flat,’ suggested Steve, trying to be helpful so the lovely meal wasn’t spoiled.

  ‘What?’ said Guy.

  ‘When you move out and buy Hallow’s Cottage, I meant,’ Steve said, seizing his moment to spill the beans for Guy and hopefully get him the help from his family which he refused to ask for.

  ‘Hallow’s Cottage?’ asked Perry. ‘That’s never come up for sale, has it? After all these years?’

  ‘You can forget Hallow’s Cottage,’ said Guy gruffly.

  ‘I know, I know, you can’t afford it, you already told me,’ said Steve, planting a well-meaning seed quickly in the heart of the gathering.

  Juliet had dried her eyes and Grainne returned to her seat, but the atmosphere around the table had changed just as surely as a stormcloud drifts across the face of the sun. Neither Juliet nor Grainne felt like eating any more food. Juliet was worrying about Floz. Grainne was worrying about Juliet worrying about Floz. Steve was worrying that he shouldn’t have said anything about Hallow’s Cottage. Perry was worrying that he had spoiled the atmosphere. Guy was annoyed that Steve had stirred up thoughts of Hallow’s Cottage, which he would never own and never share with a w
oman like Floz. And if she had to leave the flat, bang went his chances of ever being able to call on his sister and see her by default. What if she moved away? Only Stripies, who rubbed against Guy’s leg under the table hoping for some meat scraps, seemed carefree.

  Hardly anyone ate the desserts. Guy cleared the plates and tipped the waste into the bin. His beautiful meal hadn’t seduced Floz, after all; it had just been the backdrop to a much bigger story being played out with all the house-swapping news. Juliet felt tired and a bit headachey and so Steve drove her and Floz home in his new family car. Guy loaded the dishwasher, crashing the plates into the slots.

  ‘Son, can I have a word?’ Perry appeared in the kitchen door, puffing on his pipe.

  Guy straightened up. ‘Course, Dad, what’s up?’

  ‘Steve said you couldn’t afford to buy Hallow’s Cottage.’

  ‘Steve’s got a big mouth,’ said Guy.

  ‘I’ve just been looking at it on the internet.’

  ‘Then you’ll see why I wouldn’t consider buying it. It’s a dump.’ Guy closed the dishwasher door and tried not to use the force that was stored up in his arm.

  ‘Your mother and I have been talking.’

  Guy held up his hand to stop his father. ‘No. I know what you’re going to say and the answer is no.’

  ‘The answer is yes,’ said Perry calmly. ‘We are going to be giving Juliet a lump sum for her wedding and the baby, and we’ll be giving the same amount to you. It’s the right time to do this, son. The money is there for you both and there’s no point in waiting until we die. Your mother and I would rather see you enjoy it and have it when you need it.’

  He stretched out his hand in which he held a cheque.

  Guy looked at the cheque. It was made out to him for £180,000.

  ‘Dad, that’s a hell of a lot of money!’ said Guy, keeping his hands by his side.