‘Oh my goodness, is that you and Felix?’
I hurriedly wiped the tears from my face and half turned towards Dad as he placed a cup of coffee down next to me. ‘Yes,’ I said, somewhat huskily, before clearing my throat and adding, ‘There were no spreadsheets on the memory stick, just lots of photos of Felix and me growing up.’
‘Well isn’t that marvellous?’ said Dad, beaming. ‘What a lovely surprise.’
‘It was,’ I replied, smiling. ‘It really was.’
He laughed. ‘What on earth are you wearing in this one?’ he asked, pointing at the screen. ‘Is that my old fishing hat?’
‘You know, I think it is,’ I nodded. ‘And that dreadful orange skirt I made. Gosh, and those boots. Do you remember those? I never took them off.’
‘I remember,’ he smiled, pulling a chair towards the desk and sitting down.
‘That was the night before Felix left for university,’ I said, pointing at the screen. ‘He’d brought one of those disposable cameras with him and we asked someone to take a picture. I had no idea he had this. I don’t remember ever seeing any of the photos.’
‘I love it,’ said Dad. ‘Can I see the others?’
‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I’m just working my way through them.’
‘Well you keep going. I can go back and look at the rest later.’
‘OK.’ I clicked on the next image. It was of Felix and me at Becca’s wedding; a rather drunken selfie, the angle of which left no doubt that I was the photographer. ‘Oh, we must be into the more recent ones now,’ I said, a little awkwardly, staring at the image of me kissing Felix hard on the cheek as he screwed his face into a disgusted ball.
Dad laughed and stood up. ‘Hmm, well, if we’ve reached the more recent ones, maybe you had better vet them before I look at them.’
‘Dad!’ I protested.
‘I’m teasing, Dot,’ he said, bending down and planting a kiss on the top of my head. ‘You keep going and I’ll look at them later with your mum and Nanny. Or maybe you can copy them for us.’
‘I will,’ I smiled, turning back towards the screen, and clicking on the next image as he left the study.
There were a couple more of the wedding, and then two or three of Felix and me at Martin’s party. And I had just opened a night-time photograph of me lying flat on my back and shining a torch into a tree whilst pointing upwards in excitement – an event of which I had only a very limited recollection – when the doorbell rang.
I jumped at the sound, my thoughts immediately transported from happy midnight shenanigans in a rural back garden to the reality of my current relationship with Felix. A relationship which I would shortly have to redefine in agonising detail to my family, and one which was at this moment as lopsided as our adolescent selves on the see-saw: me up in the air and with zero plan as to how to get down; Felix perfectly grounded and ready to move on with PC Rosie.
‘That’ll be Becca and Mark!’ shouted my mother at top volume. ‘Can you let them in, Don? I’m just helping Mum down the stairs.’
‘I’ll come and help!’ I called, taking one last look at the photograph onscreen before taking my phone from my bag and, after just a moment’s pause for thought, texting Felix.
The memories are wonderful. I love them, and you, so much – then and now. Thank you.
And then, allowing myself no chance to change my mind, I pressed send, tucked my phone into the back pocket of my jeans and hurriedly made my way back into the kitchen. Even from there, I could hear my mother gushing over the new arrivals and demanding to know where on earth I had disappeared to.
‘Yes, you pop outside and get it from the car, darling,’ she was saying as I reached the hallway and saw her huddled with Dad and Nanny Flo in the open doorway, looking out onto the drive. ‘And I’ll go on a Dottie hunt,’ she laughed, turning around.
‘I’m right here, Mum,’ I said, walking towards her and giving her a hug. ‘I just had to check something on the computer. And hello, Nanny Flo, and happy birthday to you!’ I added, releasing my mother and hugging Nanny, delighted and rather emotional to see her out of her wheelchair and standing unaided for the first time in six months. ‘You look amazing! Did Mum use her heated rollers on you?’ I asked, looking admiringly at her soft white waves.
‘She did,’ she nodded, putting a hand to her head. ‘Nearly scalped me.’
I laughed. ‘Other than that, how are you feeling?’
‘I’m feeling absolutely wonderful, Dottie,’ she said, smiling. ‘And what a happy, happy birthday it is to have you and your lovely young man here to celebrate with me.’
My heart sank. ‘Oh Nanny, I’m not sure that—’
‘Here they are,’ said Felix.
I turned to see him step inside carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers.
‘Happy birthday, Flo,’ he said, holding them out towards her.
‘Oh my goodness,’ said my grandmother, looking at the flowers but hugging Felix in preference to taking them from him. ‘Look at those roses and peonies. And lily of the valley – my favourite. Aren’t they the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen, Helen?’
‘They are, Mum,’ she replied. ‘Here, Felix, give them to me and I’ll find a vase and pop them in Mum’s room. If we’ve got a vase big enough, that is.’ She smiled at the flowers and then turned to me. ‘What on earth’s the matter with you, Dottie? Standing there catching flies. Aren’t you going to say hello to Felix?’
I closed my mouth and forced myself to look away from him. ‘Mmm,’ I said.
‘She’s overcome,’ said Nanny Flo. ‘I know just how she feels. I fell in love with your father afresh every single day, Helen. And I can tell that our Dottie is the same. Neither of us might have much going on up top, eh, Dottie? But there’s an awful lot going on in here.’ She placed a hand on her chest.
‘I think she’s surprised to see him, aren’t you, Dot?’ beamed Mum. ‘But I’m not,’ she added, turning to Dad. ‘Didn’t I say he’d come, Don?’
‘You did, love,’ said Dad, smiling at her.
She beamed at him and then looked again at the flowers. ‘Right, well, I’m going to go into the utility room and find that vase. Don, can you take Mum into the lounge, and Dottie, can you put the kettle on for a cup of tea for Felix? Then we can all sit down and have a good catch-up,’ she called, the volume of her voice gradually increasing as she disappeared into the kitchen.
Dad watched her go, then turned to Felix. ‘Good to see you,’ he said, patting him on the arm. ‘Dot’s just been looking through those photos you gave her. I only saw a couple but I thought they were great. That must have taken you quite a while to put together.’
Felix smiled and opened his mouth to speak, but Nanny Flo got there first. ‘What photos are these, then? Can I see?’
‘I’m sure you can, Flo,’ said Dad gently. ‘They’re photos of Felix and Dot when they were at school.’
‘Ooh, that should be interesting,’ my grandmother grinned. ‘Do you remember what a roly-poly boy he was, Dottie?’ she said, smiling up at Felix and placing an arm around his waist. ‘And all that hair. Like a chubby little Leo Sayer.’
Felix laughed and Dad stepped forward, taking Nanny Flo by the hand. ‘OK then, Flo,’ he smiled. ‘How about we get you settled in the lounge? Then I’ll find the laptop and Dot can show you the pictures while you have a cup of tea.’
‘That sounds lovely, Don,’ she said, as he led her into the lounge. ‘I really am having the most wonderful birthday.’
I watched them go, and then, taking a deep breath, turned back towards Felix. He was looking at me steadily, his hands in his pockets. ‘I gather you haven’t told them yet?’ he said quietly.
I lowered my eyes to the parquet flooring and shook my head.
‘I guessed that might be the case when your mother texted last night to say that she hoped I would be able to make it today and to ask if I was allergic to salad,’ he said solemnly. ‘Which was just before Linda texted to tell
me that you are in fact still single and not, as I had thought, back with Alistair. I haven’t quite got to the bottom of how Linda knew that might be of interest to me, but I may just let that slide.’
I continued to gaze at the floor. ‘Sorry for not telling my parents yet.’
‘I’m thinking maybe you should put that on a T-shirt.’
I nodded but didn’t look up. ‘OK.’
‘Have you not told them because you’re worried about upsetting your grandmother?’ he asked gently.
I heaved a sigh. ‘No. I mean, she would have been very disappointed and I hate the thought of that,’ I murmured, ‘but she’s much better now and would have coped. The truth is …’ I paused and took another deep breath, ‘I haven’t told them we’re not a couple because I don’t want that to be true. And the thought of it being true breaks my heart, because I don’t think I’ll ever find another Felix.’
I looked up to find him smiling down at me, his dark curls falling forwards across his forehead.
‘Well, why would you ever have to?’ he asked.
I returned his smile and, with Kate’s regularly repeated advice to stop fannying around ringing in my ears, said softly, ‘Felix Davis, will you go out with me?’
He looked at his watch. ‘You know, I thought you were never going to ask.’
I took a step towards him and, reaching up, placed my arms around his neck, closing my eyes and pulling him down towards me. When he remained resolutely unbending, I opened my eyes and looked up at him questioningly. ‘Don’t you want me to kiss you?’
‘No, I don’t actually,’ he said simply.
‘Oh … OK …’ My smile dropped and I slowly lowered my arms.
‘What I want this time,’ he said, taking my face gently in his hands, ‘is for me … to kiss you.’
And then he did. And then I kissed him back. And then we kissed each other – for quite a while. Or at least for as long as it took my mother to find a vase large enough for his bouquet, which was in turn long enough for my hair to be released from the messy updo into which I had piled it that morning, and for a button on Felix’s shirt to mysteriously come undone.
‘Dorothy Riley!’ exclaimed Mum, pausing in the lounge doorway on her return from the utility room. ‘Put poor Felix down. He doesn’t want you slobbering all over him like that, do you, Felix?’
Felix stopped kissing me and looked, I thought, equivocal.
‘It’s very polite of you to be so amenable,’ said Mum. ‘You always were such an uncomplaining little boy. But be firm with Dottie and get her to show you where to put your things.’
‘You’re staying over?’ I asked, looking up at him.
‘Dorothy, for goodness’ sake,’ sighed my mother despairingly, ‘he is your boyfriend. Of course he’s going to stay over. I sometimes wonder where your head is. His bag is by the front door. You can take yours up at the same time,’ she added, at last disappearing into the lounge. ‘And hurry up!’
I sighed and leaned my head against Felix’s chest. ‘I’d better take you upstairs.’
‘I’m not resisting,’ he said.
‘Shush,’ I replied, releasing myself from his arms and bending down to pick up my bag as he retrieved his own. ‘Hey, and what did you mean, this time?’
‘Sorry?’ he asked, frowning.
‘You said that you wanted to kiss me this time,’ I said, starting to climb the stairs, Felix following.
‘I’ll explain later,’ he said.
‘OK,’ I shrugged. ‘Now, you do realise that we’re going to have to share a room tonight, don’t you?’
He stopped climbing and I turned to look at him. ‘Is there a problem with that?’ I asked.
‘Do you have a waterbed?’
‘No.’
He nodded and started to climb again. ‘Then I’m OK with sharing a room.’
Friday 17 September 1999
I placed the pint glasses of water on the table and sat down next to Dot on the bench. ‘Where did Chris and Ian go?’ I asked, scanning the now almost empty pub.
She looked at me blankly for a moment and then tapped a thoughtful finger against her lower lip. ‘Er … let me think. Ooh, now they did say something before they stood up and walked towards the door. Now what was it?’ She hiccoughed quietly, causing her hat to fall down over her eyes.
‘Which door?’ I asked, pushing her hat up for her. ‘Are you saying that they’ve left?’
She nodded slowly. ‘I am, Felix. I am saying that. I’m just trying to remember what they said when they went. Think, Dorothy, think,’ she murmured, placing her fingers on her temples and rubbing.
I picked up my glass of water and sighed. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m just surprised that they went without saying goodbye.’
‘That was it!’ she exclaimed. ‘That was what they said! They said goodbye! I remember now.’ She beamed triumphantly at me.
‘Well done.’
‘And they had to go cos Chris’s dad was waiting outside in the car and they asked if we wanted a lift, but I said no thank you very much indeed ever so.’ She put a hand to her mouth and sniggered.
‘Well done again,’ I sighed, shaking my head.
‘What’s this drink you’ve bought me?’ she asked, pointing at the glass in front of her.
‘Tap water.’
She frowned, looking confused. ‘But it was last orders and I asked for a cider.’
‘I know, but you’re pissed and we haven’t got enough cash for a taxi, so we’re going to have to walk home, remember?’
‘Oh yeah,’ she said, picking up the water and taking a sip, ‘that’s right. So why did we say no to a lift with Chris?’
I shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. That was weird of us, wasn’t it?’
She returned her glass to the table and leaned her head against my shoulder while wrapping her left arm around me, resting it on my stomach. ‘Thanks for looking after me, Felix.’
‘Pleasure.’
‘How many drinks have I had, do you think? I reckon I’ve drunk seven or eight pints tonight, don’t you?’
‘You’ve had three halves, which is two more than you usually have. And I seriously think you may be allergic to alcohol,’ I said, putting down my glass.
She laughed and sat up, pushing the enormous bucket hat out of her eyes for a second time. I smiled down at her. She was so pretty – even in that bloody stupid hat.
She stopped laughing and turned away, staring at the bar, where Tony the barman was busy stacking empties.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘Shh, shh, shhhh. Listen,’ she whispered, holding up a hand.
‘What? I don’t hear anything.’
‘Tony’s got the radio on under the bar and I love this song,’ she said in a murmur.
I leaned forward and listened. ‘The Cure?’
She nodded. ‘“Friday I’m in Love”. And the thing is,’ she said, turning back towards me, ‘it is Friday, our last Friday together in ages, and …’ she offered me a slow smile, ‘well, this could be our song, couldn’t it?’
I looked at her, wanting to tell her how much I loved her. ‘You are so pissed,’ I said, laughing and reaching again for my water. But before my hand got there, she had taken it in hers.
‘Listen, Felix,’ she said quietly, leaning closer until her face was just inches from mine, ‘you’re funny and fun and kind and clever and I love your hair and I love your eyes and I love being with you and I’m going to miss you more than I’m going to miss anything else and that’s all true.’
‘Long sentence,’ I said, trying to be cool and not to take her seriously.
And then suddenly and without warning, she pushed my hair back from my face and kissed me. Not the way she usually kissed me. Not just a quick peck on the cheek. This was her mouth pressed hard against my mouth and then her teeth on my lower lip. And for a second, just a second, I put my arms around her and I kissed her back. And it felt like the best second ever.
And then
I did the right thing.
‘Stop it, Dot,’ I said quietly, gently pushing her away.
She stared at me for a moment before slumping back on the bench and folding her arms. ‘I’ve fancied you forever,’ she said grumpily.
‘You have not.’
‘Have. But I keep it in here.’ She made a fist and banged it dramatically against her chest. ‘I don’t admit it … to myself or anyone else … cos you’re always going on and on about … girls who like … maths,’ she said, pausing several times to hiccough.
‘I am not.’
‘You are.’
‘I am not.’
‘You are’
‘I am not.’
‘OK then,’ she said, sitting up and glaring at me defiantly, ‘go out with me then.’
‘What?’ I laughed.
‘Felix Davis, will you go out with me?’
She looked up at me unblinkingly.
‘No, I will not,’ I said.
‘See.’ She leaned forward, collapsing her upper body onto the table. ‘I knew you wouldn’t,’ she mumbled, her face pressed against the sticky wooden surface. ‘It’s because I’m thick.’
‘For God’s sake, Dot, you are not thick.’
‘I am compared to all the Tefal-heads you fancy. And I’m too plain to make up for being thick.’
I frowned down at her and placed my hand gently on her arm. ‘I’m saying no for two reasons, and neither has anything to do with you being thick or plain. One, I go to London tomorrow and you go to Sheffield on Sunday, and two …’
She sat up and looked at me blearily. ‘Two?’
‘And two, you are as pissed as a fart. You don’t know what you’re saying and you won’t remember any of this in the morning.’
Finding Felix Page 25