Will You

by S J Crabb

  I shake my head in bewilderment. “For goodness’ sake, Jack, why didn’t you just tell them the truth? Of everyone they will understand, it doesn’t make sense.”

  He shrugs. “I did it for you. I didn’t want them to think badly of you if they found out about our arrangement. Also, it would look more realistic to Aunt Alice when we meet up at family gatherings. Mum will talk about you, as she would any girl I brought home and it would be all the more believable.”

  I stare at him in surprise. “You did it for me?”

  He nods looking worried.

  “Are you angry?”

  Shaking my head, I say in a whisper. “How could I be angry at that? You really lied to your parents to spare my feelings?”

  He nods and I smile shakily. “I don’t believe it. Nobody’s ever considered my feelings before. I suppose I’m so used to being trodden on and discounted I’ve never actually had anyone put me first before. Thank you, Jack.”

  He looks a little concerned and says softly, “You don’t have to thank me, Nelly. Since meeting you, it’s made me think about what I’ve been like in the past and I don’t like what I see. It’s made me realise the repercussions of my actions and I feel ashamed of how we all treated you. Now I know you a little, I see that you’re a kind, considerate, clever, funny, beautiful, woman and I should have seen that before but I never looked.”

  I don’t know what to say and feel myself blushing furiously as I try to cover up how touched I am. I just say shakily, “So, we’re heading to meet your parents. You could have warned me, I look terrible.”

  His eyes soften and I can see why he’s always been so successful with the ladies. He has this ability to make any girl feel as if she’s the most important one in the world with just one look alone.

  He takes my hand and says sincerely, “I think you look amazing. You always do. Don’t worry about my parents, they may be selfish but they aren’t ogres. They’ll make you feel welcome and you can see why I have come to the conclusions I have for my own life.”

  Once again, I follow Jack to his car, trying to suppress the nerves that are fluttering around inside me.

  Meeting the parents – already. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.

  14

  As I expected Jack’s family live in one of the more desirable parts of town. He pulls up in front of an impressive townhouse that appears to be arranged over four floors. The place looks immaculate from the outside and the cars parked in the driveway are the newest models and cost more than I make in a year.

  Jack sighs heavily beside me. “I’m not ready for this.”

  “For what?”

  “For you to meet them – my family.”

  “Why, are you ashamed of me or something?”

  I feel a mixture of anger and anxiety about his answer but he laughs dully. “Of them.”

  “You’re ashamed of them?”

  He nods. “They’re hardly the textbook parents from the rule book. I almost think they only had us to keep up appearances. All our lives my sister and I have just been an inconvenience and were just wheeled out when the occasion dictated it to make them look good.”

  His words make me pity him, which surprises me when I think about how much I envied him at school. Angela’s words are ringing very true when she felt sympathy for the bullies. Maybe there is something in that theory. Perhaps he was dismissive because that’s all he knew.

  He shakes himself and says wearily, “Ok, let’s get this over with.”

  Feeling a little worried, I follow him inside the impressive house and look around me in awe. This place is amazing and like a spread in a fashion magazine. This is how I imagined the wealthy to live. I’ve seen houses like this on Pinterest and have drooled at the sight of the sumptuous furnishings with no expense spared. This is no exception because this house looks as if it has never been lived in. If a family live here they are meticulously tidy. There is not a speck of dirt or dust and even the cushions look new and plump as if nobody ever sits on them. The air smells of expensive scented Reed diffusers and I’m afraid to breathe in case I contaminate the air with real life.

  Jack’s smile is strained and I see the worry in his eyes as he drags me towards the kitchen.

  I can hear movement inside and the smell that greets me makes my stomach growl. The first thing I see is a beautiful woman wearing a Cath Kidston apron, stirring a pot of something that smells like pure heaven.

  She looks up as we head inside the room and her eyes zoom in on me, raking me from head to toe. I’m sure she misses nothing. Not the slightly messy ponytail I’ve been wearing all day because my hair could do with a wash. She must see that my make-up wore off hours ago and I have the beginnings of a spot on my nose. She must balk at the sight of my faded jeans and t-shirt emblazoned with the name of my business and I’m sure the sneer on her lips is directed at the chain store trainers I threw on this morning because they are my comfortable friends.

  Then again, maybe she dislikes seeing her son’s hand planted firmly in mine where it has absolutely no right to be and my heart sinks. However, in a split second, she changes and smiles brightly. “Jack, darling, good of you to make it and this must be….?”

  She chews on her bottom lip as if she is having trouble remembering and I say a little too brightly, “Nelly Gray. I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Mason.”

  She laughs and I swear it’s the sweetest sound in the world as she purses her perfect lips that are painted in the most professional manner. “Call me Amanda, my dear. Mrs Mason makes me sound so old and I like to think I have a few more years left in me before I deserve that title.”

  I smile as Jack says slightly irritably, “Where’s dad?”

  I watch a shadow pass across her face as she sighs irritably. “Who knows, darling? He never informs me of his comings and goings these days. Maybe you should call him once in a while. You may get more sense out of him than I ever do.”

  Jack heads across to the fridge and grabs a couple of bottles of beers before turning to me and saying. “Beer, Nelly?”

  I see the raised eyebrow stirring the pot and say lightly, “No thank you. Do you have anything softer?”

  His mother says firmly, “Honestly, Jack, where are your manners? Girls aren’t beer drinkers; you should know that. Offer Nelly some white wine, or a spritzer. That is so much more suitable.”

  I smile in defeat. “That sounds lovely, thank you.”

  I think I see a little disappointment in his eyes as he shrugs and sets about making the drink.

  His mother laughs again. “Men. Honestly, they know nothing about what a woman really wants. My husband’s a good example. We’ve been married for over twenty years and he still doesn’t know what I like. At Christmas he gives me money to buy ‘something nice’ as he puts it. On my birthday he resorts to flowers and a meaningless piece of jewellery and I’m pretty sure his secretary organises those.”

  She turns to Jack and says firmly. “Don’t be like your father, be the better man. Discover what Nelly likes, I mean, really likes and make it your mission to deliver it to her gift wrapped. No girl likes to feel like a chore which is what married life does for you. It rips out all the passion in a relationship and replaces it with drudgery. It’s all very well at the beginning when everything’s new and exciting but the shine soon fades and the irritations of everyday life get in the way. Twenty years I’ve been living under that domestic cloud and I want better for Nelly here.”

  I feel utterly mortified hearing his mother lay her cards on the table like this. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least and I wish we hadn’t come.

  The door slams and I see Amanda frown at the sound of something hitting the hall table outside. I look up as an older version of Jack enters the room and my breath hitches. This must be his father because he is the spitting image of him. He’s wearing a tailored suit and looks immaculate and successful. He has a smattering of grey hair at the temples but is clean shaven and exudes charisma. He sees me sitting gaping
at him and smiles. “Well, hello. You must be…”

  Jack interrupts quickly. “Nelly, her name’s Nelly.”

  His father nods. “Of course, I remember now. Such an unusual name in the modern world.”

  He turns to his wife and nods. Yes, nods. No perfunctory kiss, no shared look of affection, just a curt nod. She, in turn, rolls her eyes and says wearily, “How many more times must I tell you to hang your keys up on the hook by the door. You’ll mark that table in the hallway the way you slam them down. In fact, I noticed a scratch there just the other day. Really, James, you should be more careful.”

  Once again, I feel uncomfortable as he totally ignores her and rips off his tie and drapes it over the nearby chair. He too heads straight for the fridge and pours himself a large glass of tonic water before grabbing a nearby bottle of gin and adding much more than a single measure to it. I watch in fascination as he removes a tray from the freezer and adds some perfect ice cubes with pieces of lemon frozen inside them. Then I watch with fascination as he downs the drink in one and says with relief, “I needed that.”

  Amanda makes that sound that women do when they want to convey their disapproval and he says cheerily, “I’ll head off and change into something more comfortable. When’s supper ready?”

  I watch as Amanda stirs the pot furiously and says tightly, “Twenty minutes.”

  He leaves the room without another word and doesn’t even look in her direction while Amanda turns her attention back to her cooking.

  Jack catches my eye and shakes his head and then says loudly, “We’ll be in the living room.”

  Amanda says nothing and I wonder if she’s even listening as Jack drags me from the room.

  15

  The living room is as impressive as the rest of the house and Jack pulls me beside him onto a white leather couch with extremely plump cushions and sighs. “I hope I’m never like that, Nelly.”

  Agreeing with him in my mind, I say gently, “I’m sure you won’t be. If anything, you’ll probably overcompensate for it and be that annoying husband who comes in and annoys the hell out of his family. I can imagine you like that, Jack. Cheeky, irritating and sarcastic and the most annoying husband and father.”

  He laughs softly. “How do you know me so well already? Let me tell you how you’ll be. I bet you’ll be strict and insist on proper table manners and every day will be a different meal calculated on its nutritional content and health benefits. Your children will have to do their homework before they can watch television and I’m certain video games and electronic devices will be rationed to one hour a night. I’m guessing your home will be run with military precision and nothing will be left to chance.”

  I push him angrily. “Ouch, that hurts. You know nothing about me Jack, just the image you formed in your mind from those days in the classroom. For all you know, I may not want kids. I may want to become a belly dancer and run off to the desert. I may turn to prostitution now I’ve had my first job and I may be a gambler and win the lottery. Who knows, I may marry a prince or I may live alone forever with just twenty-five cats for company. However, if I was a mother, I would be the best one I could ever be and any rules I follow will be in my children’s best interests.”

  He looks thoughtful. “What about your husband, what sort of life would he have?”

  I grin wickedly. “I would be the best wife a man could wish for. I would be that wife who held everything together, in a sexy way, of course. He would idolise me because of the imaginative ways I kept him interested. He would want for nothing and yet crave everything. He would bend over backwards to do everything I tell him because I would rule him with sex.”

  Jack laughs out loud. “Is that a fact?”

  I grin. “Yes, sex is the secret to a good marriage and I would study the art well. My life would be dedicated to being the perfect wife and mother and I would expect no less from my husband. He would enjoy spending time with his family because he would want to more than anything. We would be a team and there would be no secrets between us. I believe in soul mates, Jack and am prepared to wait for mine to show himself. I have high standards and will not settle for less.”

  Laughing, he nudges me and I grin, feeling the tension ebb away slowly. This is what’s needed. Some gentle teasing to diffuse an awkward situation. I’m quite liking this situation because I can say and do anything I want because it doesn’t matter what he thinks of me. There is no anxiety over how to impress him and no watching what I say. With Jack, I can be myself because it’s one hundred per cent certain that Jack isn’t my soulmate and I’m not his. We will be good friends, nothing more, although if he throws in the odd panty-melting kiss here and there, I will not complain.

  The door slams and we hear voices approaching and Jack groans. “Prepare yourself, Ariadne’s here.”

  I hear loud voices coming from the kitchen but can’t make out what they’re saying. Then I look up with interest as two people head into the room. I smile as the girl looks at me with curiosity and smiles sweetly. “Oh, hi.”

  I return the smile and Jack says in a bored voice. “Nelly, this is Ariadne, my sister.”

  I smile shyly and don’t miss the way her gaze takes me in and judges me in seconds. She is probably finding me lacking because this girl is immaculate. I’m pretty sure she has a membership to the local beauty shop because not an inch of her isn’t groomed to perfection. I’m guessing she must be about 18 and looks to be about a size 6 - something I never knew actually existed in the real world. Her hair is bleached blonde and the padding in her bra gives the illusion of a centrefold hiding underneath the tight-fitting, probably cashmere, pink cropped jumper that accentuates that amazing chest. I’m not sure if she has extensions in her hair but she definitely does on her nails. Painted to match her clothing, they look as if she has never lifted a finger for anything in her life. Her jeans look sprayed on and are ripped in that designer way that costs more than a month’s salary and her make-up is a mask that disguises the real beauty behind it.

  Everything about Ariadne appears fake and when she speaks, I notice that also goes for her impressive set of veneers that looks as if she never ate anything that would stain that million-dollar smile.

  Behind her must be her boyfriend who looks just as bad. His hair is that floppy sort that bounces on top of his head and looks as if it could do with a good tub of gel to control it. He is clean shaven and his clothes are like something out of a movie. Chinos with a button-down shirt and pink jumper casually tied around his neck with a smart blazer finishing the look. They complement each other perfectly and then the illusion speaks in a breathy, girly, voice, saying, “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.”

  Feeling even more like Stig of the Dump, I try not to let the nerves show and say brightly, “I’m Nelly, you must be Ariadne.”

  She nods and looks puzzled as if she’s trying to work out what planet I’m from. Her gaze swings to Jack and I don’t miss the derision in her eyes as they share a look perfected over years of living together as brother and sister. I don’t like that look, I’ve seen it too many times in the past and know it well. Amusement followed by disapproval. A judgemental look that shows I don’t measure up and never will. I’m not one of them and never will be. I’m the ugly duckling on a lake full of swans and to say my feathers are ruffled is an understatement.

  It feels kind of awkward until her boyfriend steps forward with a cocky smile on his lips and holds out his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you, Nelly. I’m Godfrey but you can call me God.”

  They laugh at the joke he obviously uses all the time and I instantly dislike him. Cocking my head to one side, I say sweetly. “I’m sorry, Godfrey, that must have been a cross to bear growing up.”

  There’s a stunned silence as they look at me as if I’m an alien and Jack laughs loudly beside me. “Good one, Nelly.”

  Ariadne’s cheeks flush pink and she narrows her eyes. “Yes, names are so important. I’m guessing you’ve had a hard time with yours o
ver the years. Not a popular name really, is it? It’s not even chic and fashionable like mine, so bad luck on that score.”

  She takes Godfrey’s hand and says in a girly voice. “Come on, darling. I need to update my Instagram feed and could do with your skill with the light-room App.”

  Without another word, they leave the room and Jack laughs softly beside me. “See what I mean?”

  I nod. “I think I do. Your sister will hate what life in a care home involves. I kind of like your aunt already.”

  Shifting to face him, I whisper. “What does your mother do, you said she has a good job?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Sort of. Mum is one of those women who stay at home and keep house. That means organising a maid service, gardeners and a window cleaner. She, in the meantime, keeps up her membership at the local country club and indulges her credit card on a daily basis. She has her tennis lessons to keep her in gossip because it’s just an excuse to indulge in a glass of champagne after an arduous lesson with her friends, while they discuss their next beauty treatment.”

  I look at him in confusion. “But you said she has a good job.”

  He smirks. “Listen, my mum is no stranger to wealth. Her family started Viapower and they’ve always had lots of money. The company is now in her name and she’s the chairman of the board. My father’s the CEO and runs everything on her behalf. They stay with each other because it suits them. He gets to play at being the boss and she trusts him to look after her parents’ company. If they split, she would have to step up and he would lose his lavish lifestyle. It’s more a marriage of convenience than anything else and has been for some time.”

  Reaching out, I take his hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry.”