by Shari Low
Ida changed it up and launched into the opening bars of ‘Hi Ho Silver Lining’. It was like a call to arms for every woman – and a few men – of a certain age, who immediately stormed the dance floor and broke into a dance called the Alley Cat, the non-traditional synchronised movement that was second only in popularity to the Slosh at such gatherings.
I was just about to throw coolness to the wind and join them, when I heard a familiar voice at my side. ‘So there I was, looking for a cute redhead…’ he joked.
‘Keep looking because this one outgrew “cute” at least a decade ago,’ I retorted, laughing. I’d barely finished when I was snatched up and hugged for way longer than a cursory length of time for someone you bump into at a christening. Not the most understated of greetings.
‘How are you, gorgeous?’ Richard asked.
‘I’m great,’ I said, my grin wide. His enthusiasm, as always, was contagious. ‘How long are you up for?’
‘Just until tomorrow. I was supposed to come up last night, but there was an emergency at work and I ended up in theatre until dawn. That’s why I didn’t make it to the church.’
‘Chloe will just be delighted that you made it at all,’ I told him. It was true. We all understood that work got in the way and that emergencies that forced a change of plan were an occupational hazard. It was great to see him though. I flushed just a little when I realised that the last time I saw him was that one night stand a couple of years ago. Back then, he’d suggested again that we make it more of a regular thing, but I’d resisted. The last thing I needed was more complications in my life.
We chatted about the christening, the babies, Chloe’s wonderful life, as the minutes sped by, until there was a natural lull in the conversation.
‘I missed you,’ he said, and I could see he meant it.
‘I missed you too.’ I replied, meaning it just as much.
‘So why?’
‘Why what?’ I knew what he was going to say, but I was stalling in the hope of avoiding an awkward moment.
‘Why do you refuse to keep in touch with me? I don’t get it. I really don’t.’
I sighed. Hello awkward moment. We’d already had this debate a couple of times before and I’d skirted around the answer, but obviously it wasn’t enough. Time for brutal honesty.
‘Because there’s no point,’ I answered truthfully. ‘I’m a mum, and I need to be up here. Weekend jollies to Manchester are out of the question for me, and you get so little time off that it’s a rare thing for you to be able to travel here. Long-distance relationships don’t work, especially with jobs like ours and a child to take care of. So…’ I repeated, ‘there’s no point. What would it be? Late-night phone calls? Raunchy emails? That would be as much as we could promise…’
‘Raunchy emails sound pretty good to me,’ he joked.
I ignored him and carried on. Time for the harshest part of the objection. ‘And the whole time, it would stand in the way of either of us finding a relationship that actually worked for us. I’m a monogamous kind of girl. If we had a commitment – even a raunchy-email one – then I wouldn’t look at another guy.’
I decided not to mention that between work and Finn, I hadn’t actually had time to look at any man other than Richard for the last four years. That wasn’t the point. And neither was it relevant that over the last few months I’d realised that my feelings for him had deepened with the passing of the years. When we’d first got together, he was a rebound guy, the one right after my split when I was still in a state of emotional conflict. Now that things were clearer I could acknowledge that in a different time, a different place we could be great together. But that time and place wasn’t now, so I carried on.
‘And I’d feel guilty that you were constricted by us too. You deserve to find someone great – preferably someone who doesn’t work extended shifts, live in Glasgow, and have family commitments that leave her with approximately an hour and a half of free time a week. I’m not the person for you,’ I finished, quite simply, realising that it would only complicate the issue if I told him how much I wished it could be different. There was no point in ‘if onlys’. The reality was that he lived in Manchester and I was a single mum, who worked long, unpredictable hours and lived in Glasgow.
‘Don’t I get a say in that?’ he asked.
‘Nope,’ I objected, with an edge of finality that made it clear it wasn’t up for further discussion.
‘So where do we stand on casual sex when we do happen to find ourselves in the same place at the same time?’
A wave of laughter almost made me choke on the glass of orange juice I’d been nursing since I got here.
‘Casual sex is entirely acceptable,’ I told him, feigning formality, ‘except today when I have to take my son home and be a mum.’
I experienced a twinge of gratification that he looked disappointed.
‘I see. So if we take casual sex off the table, am I allowed to just come hang out with you and your son?’
I thought about that for a moment. Finn had never been introduced to a date, because, quite frankly, I hadn’t had one. However, he was used to people coming and going at our house and at Nate’s place, so I was fairly sure that meeting a male friend of Mum’s wouldn’t scar him for life.
‘I think that would definitely be something we could consider,’ I replied, trying to be at least a little bit sexy. I was way out of practice.
Before Richard could reply, I saw Nate approach, holding hands with a giggling Finn, and I scooped my son up when he got to me. ‘Finn, this is Mummy and Daddy’s friend Richard.’ Nate shook Richard’s hand and gave him a warm welcome. Navigating the social niceties of meeting your ex-wife’s ex-boyfriend, talking to aforementioned ex-wife, was a complicated one, but the guys had built up an easy friendship over the years so it was fine.
Finn burst into a chorus of the ‘Wheels on the Bus’, as Nate chatted.
‘How’re you doing, Richard?’ he asked.
‘Great, thanks. You?’
‘Yeah, really good.’
I felt incredibly lucky to have loved two such good men.
Nate turned to me. ‘Listen, I was thinking I’d just take Finn home with me tonight. Would that be okay with you?’
Beside me, I could feel Richard trying not to smile.
‘Why? I’m happy to take him home when he’s sleepy and let you stay and enjoy the party.’
‘I know,’ he said. ‘But Sasha is planning to leave at four o’clock to go see Justin. He’s only allowed one visitor at the moment, but I thought I’d take her and see how he’s doing. There’s a park right next to the rehab centre that Finn and I can play in while she’s visiting. Isn’t there, buddy?’ he cooed to Finn.
‘Park! Park!’ Finn, of course, replied. Nothing like a bit of emotional coercion.
‘That’s good of you to go with her,’ I said honestly. He was a good friend to them both. ‘And sure, if taking Finn with you is what works best for you, I’m fine with it.’ I smothered Finn in kisses. ‘I’ll miss you, little guy,’ I promised. It was true. I’d never get used to not having him there to kiss goodnight and then cuddle in the morning.
Not that Finn had the same pangs of sadness.
‘Park!’ was his delighted reply.
I leaned over with my free arm and gave Nate a hug, then handed over our boy, and waved to him until he was out of sight.
Well, that put a whole new perspective on things.
For a start, I could have the champagne that I was about to procure from the passing waitress…
My bubbles were barely in hand, when Richard leaned in close, until the feeling of his breath on my neck made my skin tingle, and whispered, ‘So without being presumptuous, can I enquire as to whether casual sex is now a possibility?’
I pretended to think about this for a long, drawn-out moment before eventually replying, ‘I think we can definitely confirm that it is.’
Chapter Thirteen
Christmas at Connor &
Chloe’s House.
December 2011
‘Mama, mama, mama, mama, look!’ Finn squealed, charging around the room with Fireman Sam and his bright red truck. It was this five-year-old’s dream toy and he’d been beyond excited when Santa had come through.
The twins, Jasmin and Joshua, were just as hyper. They were eighteen months old and utterly adorable, already moving at speed and into everything. I had absolutely no idea how Chloe kept up with them. One had been hard work, but two? Yet, she and Connor seemed to have it sussed with a divide-and-conquer methodology that usually saw one parent darting one way, and the other chasing the twin who was going in the opposite direction.
I’d been delighted when she’d suggested having Christmas dinner at her house this year. I’d been working long shifts all month and I was back at work on Boxing Day, so it was bliss to have a day off with no cooking, no clearing up and all my favourite people in the same room. She’d even invited my mum. That thought went through my head just as the doorbell rang. It freaked me out when that happened.
Chloe headed off to answer it, and, yep, right on cue, I heard an exuberant, ‘Darlings! Merry Christmas!’
Aw, it was lovely to hear Ida so happy. Maybe today would be one of those lovely family memories, and there’d be no drama, no barbs, just a warm, beautiful day full of joy and cheer.
That thought was blown out like a chip fire on Fireman Sam’s watch, when Chloe came back into the room first, wearing an expression that was somewhere between shock, helplessness and apology. Bugger. What had my mother done now?
‘Merry Christmas everyone!’ Ida cheered. ‘I’d like you all to meet my boyfriend. This is George.’
At that, a well-tanned, silver-haired gent of perhaps late fifties, sporting a pink polo shirt and a pair of well-cut navy chinos gave us all a wave.
‘Did you know about this?’ Sasha, sitting beside me, hissed.
‘Not a bit,’ I whispered back, barely containing my amusement. ‘Should I call him Daddy?’
We were still giggling like teenagers when my mother made a personal introduction. It was tough, but as I shook his hand and wished him a Merry Christmas, I refrained from using any fatherly terms.
It was a shock, but my overriding reaction was to be pleased for Mum. She embraced life, she lived it to the full and she didn’t give a damn. It wasn’t ideal if you were her only child and came somewhere below cabaret, self-promotion and her tap-dancing squad on her priority list, but there was something to admire in a woman who lived every day like it was her last.
I could learn a lesson there. More and more lately, I felt like I was drifting through life, going through the motions. New Year’s resolution – I must start being more like Ida. Not a sentence I’d ever thought I’d say.
‘George, this is Sasha,’ she said, introducing my chum next to me.
‘And over there,’ she said, pointing at the collection of blokes at the breakfast bar, ‘is Justin. Sasha and Justin used to live in sin, but they split up years ago,’ she said.
In my mind, I slapped my palm to my forehead in mortification.
‘Next to him is Nate.’ Nate duly waved over and I closed my eyes to shut out the horror of what I knew was to come. She leaned into George’s ear to give him the sordid details, but it was in a stage whisper that the families two doors down could hear. ‘He was my son-in-law, married to Liv, but then they split up. He’s Finn’s dad, though. One-night stand.’
‘Sasha, smother me to death with that cushion right now,’ I begged.
‘And next to him is Richard. He’s a doctor. And Liv cohabitated with him after she and Nate got divorced, but then they split up too. Not a great track record.’
‘Hurry up, Sasha. Kill me. Kill me now,’ I demanded.
‘No way – this is fricking hilarious,’ Sasha chuckled.
‘And finally, that’s Connor. Och, he’s lovely. You’re a clever girl, Chloe,’ she said, and every ounce of teenage angst and insecurity came flooding back to me.
If there was a bright side, I could see that Nate and Richard were on a shared mission not to dissolve into fits of laughter. Richard’s attendance was not at my instigation. In fact, I didn’t even know he’d be in town. Our last conversation had been a curt one, the morning after the twins christening, after I stressed once again that there was no point in us pursuing a long-distance relationship. He didn’t agree, but I knew that it could never work, so I stuck to my guns. Although, I do confess to a stomach flip of delight when Chloe had called yesterday and said that he was going to be in Glasgow for Christmas, and that she’d invited him over. Richard and I could never come to anything while he lived in Manchester and I lived in Glasgow, but having his face in the same room still made me smile.
It was great to have Justin here too. He was still living in Nate’s spare room, and Sasha hung out there a lot. Sasha and Nate had made a pact to take care of him and it was a tough commitment. Justin had been in and out of rehab four or five times in the last two years, each time coming out and promising he’d conquered it, only for him to fall spectacularly every time. He no longer worked, realising that he couldn’t cope with the pressure of his job. He still looked fragile, a little shaky on his feet, but he was sober and he was here and surrounded by people who loved him, so whatever Nate and Sasha were doing to support him was working.
As always, Ida injected a whole lot of raucous joy into dinner and George soon got to grips with who everyone was and the convoluted dynamics between us all.
I’d already arranged to stay overnight, so I put a happy but exhausted Finn up to bed at the same time as the twins. We broke out the board games, battled it out over Pictionary and Trivial Pursuit (with Sasha at one point threatening Richard with violence over a closely contested piece of purple pie), and it was close to midnight before the laughter subsided into yawns.
‘Time to get home,’ Nate said, looking at Justin, who nodded in agreement.
Neither Nate or Sasha had drunk alcohol all day – in fact, none of us had.
‘Might just crash at yours, if that’s okay?’ Sasha said to Nate. ‘Don’t fancy going home to an empty house.’
‘No problem. But only if you apologise to Richard about the threat to stick the Christmas tree up his arse.’
She rolled her eyes, then did an elaborate bow. ‘Richard, I’m very sorry. I do not, would not, and never will cause you injury with a festive spruce.’
‘Accepted,’ Richard said, laughing.
It had been a good day, I decided, when I headed into the kitchen a while later. My mother and my potential future dad were gone, Sasha, Nate and Justin were away too, and Connor, Chloe and Richard had all headed up to bed. Thankfully, Chloe had a four-bedroom house to accommodate us all.
I was just pouring a glass of wine when I heard a noise behind me.
‘I’ll have one of those too,’ Richard said, making me jump.
‘Bugger,’ I gasped, as the red wine spilled over my hand. ‘I thought you’d gone to bed.’
‘Nope,’ he said. ‘Just went to change out of my jeans into something with an elasticated waist…’ he snapped the waistband on his jogging trousers, ‘…because I had three helpings of pudding and I think I’ve cleared the house of the green triangles out of the Quality Street boxes.’
I handed him his wine, and we headed over to the sofas a few feet away. One of the first things Chloe and Connor had done when they’d moved in – inspired by Connor’s years of living in the USA – was knock down the internal walls and make the whole house open plan. It was gorgeous.
‘We need to talk,’ he said, his uncharacteristically serious tone making me laugh.
‘What do we need to talk about Dr Campbell?’ I teased.
‘About when we’re going to stop messing around and give this another try. Us. Give you and me another try.’
I couldn’t keep having the same conversation and I didn’t understand why he wanted to either. I’d assumed he saw other people, had other relationships in
Manchester, and what we had was just a lovely consequence of his trips up north.
How many times was I going to have to tell him I didn’t want a long distance relationship? Wasn’t life busy enough? Did I really want to get myself back into a situation that would be hard to leave if it didn’t work out? Did I want Finn to become attached to someone new?
‘I didn’t realise there was an “us”,’ I said, playing for time.
‘Liv, there’s always been an us. Look, nothing else works. No one else comes close. We’ve been dancing around this for years and it’s ridiculous. I want to be with you. I really do. I’ll move back to a Scottish hospital, I’ll find a place to live until you’re sure you and Finn are ready, and we’ll make it work. I love you. I want to be with you. I’ll even call Ida “mum” if it helps and I’ll visit all her friends in person…’
He was making me laugh now and that was fatal. Because I was a pushover for someone funny. Maybe it was time. Maybe Finn should have another man in his life, one who loved his mum and was around at home. Maybe… just maybe… we could be something.
I just needed to decide if I loved him enough to take the chance.
Chapter Fourteen
The Wedding
September 2012
‘Are you royalty? A princess? Keeping it quiet that you’re in line for the throne?’ Richard asked, and I fully understood why.
Approaching the steps of the cathedral – yep, a cathedral – was a horse-drawn carriage, and when it stopped at the steps, I was pretty sure cartoon footmen would appear at any moment to carry in the Fairy Princess’s twelve-foot train.
You had to hand it to my mother – she did things in style.
‘Your dad and I married in the registry office, and had a fish supper on the way home,’ she’d told me, when I’d commented on the, erm, elaborate spectacle. ‘So this time, I’m doing it the way I want to,’ she’d announced, hands on hips and oozing defiance.
