I sipped on my prosecco and laughed as the banter continued. Leah retold the story of the disastrous blind date that one of her accountancy colleagues had arranged for her earlier in the week with a tax accountant called Ernie who turned out to be in his 50s; something the colleague had failed to mention. Karen told us all about a couple of the elderly gents who proposed to her every time she ran an over 60s fitness class at her local community centre. One of them had offered to feed arsenic to his wife if she said yes, and she suspected he was deadly serious. Mum told us about her “friendly stalker”: a man in his fifties called Terrence who popped into the shop at least once a week, refusing to speak to anyone but Mum, and leaving with his tail between his legs if she wasn’t working that day or was running a bear-making class and couldn’t say hello.
I looked around my friends and family and realised that it was thanks to them that time apart from Scott wasn’t nearly as difficult as it could have been. There was always laughter and banter in our flat, just like there’d always been at home after Dad left. I suspected that, if the drinks kept flowing, I’d get sentimental and tell them how much I loved them for always being there and making sure I didn’t get down over my long-distance relationship.
‘Is there someone in here celebrating a birthday?’
I turned around and jumped up from my chair, nearly upturning it. ‘Scott!’
He put down the gift bag he was carrying and pulled me into his arms, kissing me until we were blasted with cries of, ‘Get a room!’
‘Sorry I couldn’t get away earlier. I missed you.’
‘I missed you too.’
‘I love you only.’
‘I love you always.’
I giggled when Karen started making vomiting noises. ‘Let me introduce you to my very rude friend, Karen.’ I did the introductions. Scott acknowledged Leah, Tiff and Drew, then hugged Mum.
‘Let’s get you a drink,’ I suggested. ‘Are you in the car?’
‘Nope. Already dropped it off at your Mum’s and got a taxi in.’
I grinned. He was so thoughtful. For obvious reasons, I felt very strongly about drinking and driving. For me, it was either drink and don’t drive or drive and don’t drink. I didn’t care that there was a legal limit because I knew from personal experience that I could have three glasses of wine and felt perfectly in control, or have three sips and feel tiddly and unsteady. So why risk it? Just abstain! Scott seemed to get it and always abstained.
‘I reckon it’s my round as a forfeit for being late,’ Scott said. ‘What’s everyone having?’
He disappeared with instructions to get another bottle of prosecco and a pint for Drew.
‘So that was the elusive Scott,’ Karen said when I sat down next to her again. ‘He is real after all.’
I laughed. ‘Told you. What do you think?’ I knew that Mum and Sean had really taken to him, but it was important to me that he also had Karen’s approval.
‘Marks out of two?’ she said. ‘I’d give him one.’
‘Karen!’ cried Mum, as Karen and I creased up at the phrase we’d picked up in our late teens.
‘Sorry, Julie,’ Karen said.
Mum leaned across the table. ‘I meant to ask you this before. Scott always says he loves you only…?’
‘I noticed that,’ Karen said. ‘It’s slightly weird. He loves you only amongst his harem of twenty?’
I laughed. ‘There’s a context. I promise. After we’d been together for a month or so, I decided it was time to properly induct him into the world of teddy bears so I introduced him to the hug, explaining the differences between the fabrics, joints, eyes etc. I probably bored him senseless. Anyway, I kept going on about how much I loved different ones. He picked one up and said he loved the expression it had, but what he really loved was me.’
A chorus of ‘Aww’ went around the table.
‘It was the first time he’d told me he loved me. I told him I loved him too, but I’d never said that to anyone before so I got all embarrassed and started saying the names of different bears I also loved. He stopped me and said, “Well, I love you only.” It kind of stuck and, because I felt I needed something to say in return, “I love you always” became my thing.’
Mum nodded. ‘That makes perfect sense now.’
Karen nodded across to the gift bag that Scott had left on the floor. ‘What do you think’s in the bag? Bit big for an engagement ring.’
‘Engagement? You don’t think he’d…?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Eighteen months together. Birthday. Could be the perfect occasion.’
I looked towards Mum, but she just smiled and looked away. I stared at the sparkly silver bag. ‘No. He wouldn’t. As you say, it’s too big to be an engagement ring.’ But now that she’d planted the thought in my mind, it wouldn’t go away. I tracked back to recent conversations trying to find clues in anything he’d said or done, but I couldn’t think of anything.
I felt stupidly nervous when Scott reappeared. He gave Drew his pint, topped up our glasses with the prosecco, then raised a toast. ‘To my gorgeous girlfriend, Jemma. Happy 28th birthday! I’m sorry I missed the meal but I’ve bought a pretty special gift that will hopefully make up for it.’ He handed me the gift bag. ‘Happy birthday.’
I knew what was in there immediately. I’d handled too many bears over the years not to recognise the feel of them, even encased in a bag. The exciting part was what sort he’d have chosen. Old? New? Artist? I gently peeled back the sticky tape and peered inside, grinning.
‘What is it?’ Karen asked.
‘A bear.’
‘A real one?’ Drew asked.
‘Ha ha.’ I reached my hands into the bag and carefully lifted him out. ‘Oh my God! Scott! He’s one of Mum’s!’
Drew frowned and looked at Mum, then me. ‘Scott’s given you one of your mum’s teddies? Why?’
‘Not literally one of Mum’s bears. It’s a Ju-Sea Bear. Remember I told you Mum designs them? This is one of her designs. He’s absolutely gorgeous, Mum. Thank you so much, Scott. I love him.’ He was a traditional-looking bear, about 35cm high when seated, wearing a really cute waistcoat, the front of which was made out of small grey and blue patchwork diamonds.
‘What’s his name?’ Karen asked. Mum gave all the bears a name. Karen and I had named several over the years when Mum was stuck for inspiration.
I looked at his tag. ‘Diamond. Aw, cute. Is that because of the diamonds on his waistcoat?’
‘Partly,’ Scott said. ‘And partly because of what he’s got in his pocket.’
I caught Karen’s eyes across the table and knew that she was thinking about the conversation we’d just had. My heart raced as I reached my fingers into the pocket of Diamond’s waistcoat and lifted out a simple platinum ring with a small square diamond held in place by four claws.
Scott got down on a bended knee beside my chair as the others gasped. ‘I love you only, Jemma, and I want to marry you. Excuse the pun, but do you think you could bear to spend the rest of your life with me?’
Eyes glistening, I nodded, handed him the ring, and held out my left hand.
‘Is that a yes?’ he asked.
‘Yes!’
He slipped the ring onto my finger, stood up, and wrapped his arms around me. This time, there were no shouts about getting a room.
‘Did you know?’ I asked Mum after everyone had admired the ring and given hugs.
‘He asked my permission,’ she said, grinning.
‘Aw, that’s so traditional and so sweet.’ I took his face in my hands and gently kissed him.
‘How quickly do I need to buy a hat?’ asked Tiff.
I shrugged and looked at Scott. ‘Any thoughts?’
He put his arm around me. ‘Not too long, but I’d rather start married life when my job’s settled down so hopefully in th
e next couple of years. If that’s okay with you, Jem?’
Of course it was okay with me. Everything was okay with me. I really had found love that day at the tube station and, unlike Mum and Dad, I’d found someone who still made my tummy fizz and my heart sing 18 months down the line. It was going to be forever.
Chapter 5
Sam
Present Day – 24th June
‘You didn’t have to come,’ I said, picking up my half-empty pint and taking a gulp.
Jack dropped an overnight bag onto the floor, pulled out a stool, and sat down opposite me in a gloomy corner of my local, The Hero & Hammer. The irony of the pub’s name wasn’t lost on me.
‘Of course I was going to come. How are you?’
I gulped down the rest of my drink and held the glass out to him. ‘Get me another one of these and I’ll tell you.’
‘How many have you had?’
‘What are you? The bereavement police?’ I slammed the glass down on the table.
Jack stood up and picked up the glass. ‘No. Just a concerned brother.’
‘Dark Anvil,’ I muttered.
‘What?’
‘It’s a real ale. Dark Anvil.’
He nodded and headed towards the bar. I sighed as I leaned back on the cushioned bench, resting my head against the panelled wall. He was only trying to help and I’d snapped at him, but surely he’d have expected it. I was hardly going to be a laugh a minute this weekend.
‘Pint of Dark Anvil,’ he said, placing two glasses on the table. ‘Thought I’d give it a try too.’
‘It’s good.’
He took a sip. ‘It is good. Millie sends her love. Actually, she instructed me to give you a huge hug but maybe later.’
‘Depends on how many of these I’ve had as to whether I let you.’
We sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping our drinks, until Jack cracked. ‘Sorry, bro. I’m crap at this stuff. Millie would have been so much better than me. I still can’t believe Nikki’s dead.’
‘Seven months, 13 days and…’ I glanced at my watch. ‘Nearly two hours.’
Jack sighed and shook his head, at a loss for words for once.
‘She was my life, Jack. It’s so unfair. We should have grown old together but she never even made it to our wedding day.’
The drinks had been on me that first night together. Who knew surfing was so damn hard? Lying on the board on the sand and manoeuvring to a standing position had seemed easy. Lying on the water and doing the same? Jesus! Nikki had been an amazingly patient teacher but a couple of hours in the sea definitely wasn’t enough to master it. At one point, though, I managed to ride a wave kneeling and I got why surfers became hooked on it. The adrenaline rush of surging forward towards the beach was like nothing I’d experienced before.
And being with Nikki was like nothing I’d experienced before either. She was so different to Kirsty that I found myself unable to think of a single reason why I’d stayed with Kirsty for so long. Okay, I could think of one reason but, that aside, there was nothing. Nikki and I had so much in common and I loved making her laugh that loud belly laugh of hers.
It turned out that Nikki was getting over a cheating ex too, and it had been Kirsty who he’d been seeing. While we were together. Yet another one to add to an ever-growing list. We agreed to take things slowly, just as friends, both keen not to jump into a rebound thing, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Nikki. She was a radiographer and I hadn’t spotted her around hospital before, but suddenly she seemed to be everywhere. I found it harder and harder to do the friends thing when all I wanted to do was pull her into the nearest store cupboard and kiss her like there was no tomorrow.
On my third surfing lesson, a couple of weeks after we’d met, we were the last ones bobbing about on the swell as the sun set over the inky dark water.
‘Last wave then we need to call it a day,’ she said. ‘Ready?’
And, finally, I made it upright on the board and rode that wave all the way to the shore, right beside Nikki. We pulled the boards out of the water and she threw her arms around me, squealing excitedly. I don’t know who moved first but the next moment we were kissing and thirty minutes later we were back at her rented flat, all thoughts of taking things slowly thrown completely out of the window.
‘To Nikki?’ Jack suggested, raising his glass.
I nodded and clinked mine against his. ‘To Nikki. To the 30th birthday she never had, and the wedding day we never shared.’ The cold liquid felt like a lump of coal forcing its way down my throat. It had seemed like a good idea planning our wedding for the same day as her birthday. Nikki said it would be the most amazing 30th party ever: double the celebration. Instead, it was double the pain. The day before was proving hard enough. I had no idea how I was going to get through the day itself.
‘She was one in a million,’ Jack said.
‘She certainly was. You knew what you were doing that day when you set us up, didn’t you?’
He nodded. ‘You were perfect for each other. I’d hoped to introduce you at that Christmas do when you copped off with Kirsty.’
I frowned. ‘Really? Why didn’t you? I didn’t get together with Kirsty till late on.’
‘Nikki wasn’t there. Bad cold or something. Shortly after that, she started seeing that prick from orthopaedics – the one who cheated on her with Kirsty – and you were with Kirsty so the moment was lost.’
‘So you’re saying I could have had another two-and-a-half years with her?’
Jack shook his head. ‘No! Well, maybe. But that wasn’t my point. My point was you were perfect for each other and I knew that from the start.’
A pile of torn fragments of beer mat sat next to my pint. Had I just done that? I swept them onto the floor.
‘Bloody Kirsty,’ I muttered. ‘Another reason to hate her.’
‘She’s not my favourite person, but it wasn’t just her fault. You can blame whoever gave Nikki a cold, keeping her from the party, or that prick from orthopaedics for asking her out, or–’
‘Or you for not introducing us sooner.’
Jack sighed. ‘If it makes you feel better.’
‘Right now, nothing makes me feel better, although I’m hoping several more of these will take the edge off.’ I gulped down the remaining half pint in one.
‘That’s the answer, is it? Drink till you pass out?’
‘Have you got a better idea? What would you have done on the weekend of your wedding if it had been Millie who’d dropped dead with a brain aneurysm seven-and-a-half months earlier?’
He stared at me for a moment, nodding slowly, then raised his glass and downed it in one. ‘Same again?’
‘Same again.’
He picked up the glasses and headed back to the bar. I hated myself for being so aggressive towards him, but I was angry and I had every bloody right to be. Jack leaned on the bar with his head in his hands, taking deep breaths. I knew that pose well. It was how I started each day, hoping it was finally the day when the aching pain in my heart would ease a little and the desire to yell, “fuck it” and join Nikki in the ever after would fade away. But that day never seemed to come.
Jack returned, pale-faced, and handed me my fresh pint. ‘Can I ask you a question?’
‘As long as it isn’t “how are you?” again because I think we know the answer to that one.’
He gave a weak smile. ‘The night of the blind date, you wanted me to cancel it. Knowing what you know now and feeling how you feel now, do you wish I’d listened to you and called it off?’
I shook my head. ‘No. What’s that cliché? Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? I’d sell my soul to have her with me still and be marrying her tomorrow, but if all we could ever have was our two-and-a-half years, I’d rather have had that than never to have known her at all. You did the righ
t thing, bro. You did the right thing.’
Jack let out a shaky breath. ‘I wondered if that was part of the reason why you’d moved to London. Because you were angry with me.’
‘Christ, no! It was just too hard being in Whitsborough Bay without Nikki. She was everywhere. At home, at work, at the beach. I needed a break.’
Within a couple of months of getting together, we’d both given notice on our rented flats – no emotional loss as they were blighted by our exes and their indiscretions – and had bought a top floor apartment in a Victorian terrace overlooking North Beach. On the one-year anniversary of our blind date, we picked up the keys to a bright orange restored VW campervan and I handed them to Nikki. When she spotted the engagement ring dangling from a ribbon attached to the keyring, she squealed like she’d done the time I caught my first wave standing.
Four months ago, the day after my birthday, I handed over the keys of our flat to a property management company ready for my first tenant, then drove the campervan down to London ready to start afresh. New home, new hospital, new people. It was a brilliant career move and I’d genuinely thought that London – a place with no connection to Nikki – would be a good location to help me move on.
The relief on Jack’s face was obvious. That thought must have been eating away at him for ages. It had never entered my head that he could be feeling guilty for my pain.
‘Do you fancy giving surfing another go tomorrow?’ I asked.
‘Where?’
‘Kent.’
He shrugged. ‘Not really, but I will if that’s what you want.’
‘It is. And I think it’s what Nikki would have wanted.’
‘No laughing at me in a wetsuit this time. I’m not fit and toned like you.’
‘Sorry, Loki, but Thor has very few pleasures in his life at the moment. You can’t take that away from him.’
Jack smiled. ‘I can’t believe she got everyone at work to call me Loki and you Thor. So embarrassing. Okay, you win. You can laugh a bit, but then you need to show some respect for your elders. Deal?’
‘Deal. You’ll have to drive, though. I’ll be way over the limit still.’
Bear With Me Page 4