by Sue Limb
There was a mesmerising pause. They went on walking towards the car park. Jess braced herself for her mum’s furious denunciation of Fred and all his satanic ways.
‘Oh well,’ said her mum. ‘C’est la vie.’ And she shrugged, quite pleasantly.
‘C’est what?’ gasped Jess. Why, at this desperate moment, did her mum have to launch into French, of all things?
‘That’s life!’ said Mum. ‘Que serà, serà – what will be, will be. And that’s Spanish, by the way.’
‘Are you trying to tell me, in several different European languages, that you don’t mind?’ asked Jess.
‘I’m saying that this moment was bound to come, and as I’m on holiday and in a rather good mood, I’m not going to let it bother me.’
They arrived at the car and, as Mum turned to face Jess, she suddenly looked about ten years younger.
‘I’m so glad you came,’ said Jess.
‘So am I,’ said Mum. ‘I thought I’d do something impulsive, just for once. A spur of the moment type thing. And, well, you did need your PJs and stuff, so I did have a practical excuse. I hope I didn’t ruin your evening, turning up out of the blue like that.’
‘Of course you didn’t!’ said Jess. ‘You made it just perfect!’
Jess threw her arms around her mum and hugged her harder than anyone has ever been hugged in the history of hugging. And her mum hugged her back, twice as hard as that.
Eventually the hug came to an end. They stood there in silence, looking at each other with tears in their eyes.
‘You look pretty, Mum,’ said Jess.
‘So do you, my babe,’ said Mum.
Then she got in the car, started it and drove off with a funny little wave. Jess stood and watched her go. She looked so tiny, so vulnerable. Tears were running down Jess’s cheeks now.
‘Please let her be safe,’ she whispered out loud. ‘Please let her be safe and happy for ever and ever. And ever.’
Chapter 37
When Jess got back to Dad’s house she found Phil and Fred in the kitchen. Dad was vacuuming. When she came in, he switched it off. They all looked at her.
‘Was she cross?’ asked Dad.
‘No – it was strange, she was completely cool,’ said Jess.
‘She must have been furious with me, though,’ said Fred.
‘No. I told her you were my gentleman companion and she didn’t bat an eyelid,’ said Jess. ‘I think Mum’s had a really great evening and it’s all sort of – well, sorted for her, now.’
‘Well, well,’ said Dad. ‘That’s terrific. I thought she would be giving you a hard time.’
‘We’d got the stretcher ready,’ said Phil. ‘And the oxygen tent.’
‘I have to admit I thought she was going to eat me alive,’ said Jess. ‘But it just goes to show how surprising people can be.’
‘Well, I thought she was wonderful,’ said Phil.
‘Her problem,’ said Jess, ‘is that she’s never had any confidence in herself.’
‘That’s because of me,’ said Dad.
‘Now, Timbo!’ said Phil sharply. ‘No wallowing in guilt! We agreed! You’re only guilty on Thursdays between four and five!’
‘Yes, Dad, don’t be daft!’ said Jess. ‘You and Mum split up ages ago. She’s had years and years to get over it. She did go out with a few guys when I was younger, but there was nothing major. I’m sure she’ll meet somebody nice one day. Somebody who suits her.’
‘She’s very attractive, I think,’ said Phil. ‘Like our own dear Jess. Small, dark and pixie-ish.’
‘At this point,’ said Fred, ‘Phil should reveal he has a brother who somehow never found the right woman …’
‘Yes!’ said Dad. ‘A tall, tragic fisherman with steely grey eyes … I almost fancy him myself.’
‘I feel so guilty for not having a brother!’ said Phil. ‘Or even a friend in need of a date.’
‘Maybe somebody who’s looking after his elderly father,’ said Dad. ‘So Granny could have a hot date, too.’
‘I don’t think Granny would ever be interested in anybody else,’ said Jess. ‘Grandpa was the love of her life. She still adores him, you can tell.’ Again, somehow Jess caught Fred’s eye. She was longing to be alone with him again. Just for the next sixty years.
‘Maybe that’s another reason your mum lacks confidence,’ said Phil thoughtfully. ‘I mean, if her parents’ marriage was a terrific success.’
Jess had never thought of that. Poor Mum! Of course. She must have felt even more of a sad unloved reject after her divorce, with Granny and Grandpa cuddling away flamboyantly for years and years, right under her nose.
‘She just needs to get her confidence back,’ said Phil. ‘She’s a really attractive woman. Don’t you think, Timbo?’
‘Well, I did marry her,’ Dad pointed out. ‘And considering I was gay, you have to conclude, she must have been really something.’
‘I’d love to give her a makeover,’ said Phil. ‘With the right hair and clothes, and contact lenses, she could be stunning.’
‘I think she looks like Jane Austen,’ said Fred.
‘Fred!’ cried Jess. ‘Brilliant, brilliant, brilliant! Jackpot!’
‘What did Jane Austen look like?’ asked Phil.
‘Well, like Jess’s mum,’ said Fred. ‘There’s a picture of her on the cover of Pride and Prejudice.’
‘I didn’t know you’d read Pride and Prejudice, Fred,’ said Jess, amazed and delighted.
‘My mum’s reading it, to be honest,’ said Fred. ‘But I don’t have to read it. I saw the movie. And, of course, I am Mr Darcy.’ And he tossed his head back and glared at her with what he imagined was aristocratic pride.
Jess collapsed into giggles. ‘Idiot! You look like a dromedary!’
The long summer day drew to its close. They all went for a last walk on the beach. It was dark, and the surf crashed, ferocious and white, under the moon.
‘OK,’ said Phil. ‘I’ll be off now to my mum’s. I’ve got to get up early and get the Peggy Sue ready for her special trip!’ And he walked off past the Tate Gallery, waving. He hadn’t kissed Dad goodbye or anything. So considerate.
‘Right,’ said Dad, when they got back home. ‘I’m going to make up a bed for Fred on the sofa. While I’m doing that, why don’t you two go and say goodnight up on the terrace, under the stars?’
‘Oh goodness, Dad, must we?’ sighed Jess. ‘We’d much rather stay down here and discuss literature.’
‘Well,’ said Fred, ‘we could go up and discuss astronomy.’
‘OK, then,’ said Jess as they trudged upstairs. ‘What’s your favourite star?’
They walked out on to the deck. It was bathed in moonlight. Fred grabbed her and wrapped his long ape-like arms around her.
‘You are!’ he whispered. ‘You’re my favourite star. This has been the best day of my life.’ His heart was thudding away like mad. They sank into a long, long kiss. Then they came up for breath. ‘Apart from when Fubchester United won the European Cup, of course,’ added Fred.
Jess beat him up slightly, and then decided to bury her nose in his neck instead.
‘You smell nice,’ she said. His skin, his hair, smelt kind of spicy. It wasn’t aftershave or anything. It was Fred’s very own special scent. She wondered if, when Granny and Grandpa had kissed under the moon, Grandpa’s skin had been so delicious, all those long years ago.
Eventually they went in, and Jess kissed her dad goodnight and went to her own room. She loved her room. It was so plain and tidy, so blue and white. She pulled off all her clothes and threw them about. The room looked even better now. She unpacked the bag Mum had brought. There were pyjamas, clean socks, pants, her favourite blue T-shirt for tomorrow, her sponge bag, tissues and a lovely gift box from the Eden Project, containing a foam bath, moisturiser and other delectable goodies.
‘Mum!’ she said aloud. ‘You are a legend!’ Jess switched on her mobile, and there was a message from Flora.
Hastily Jess composed a reply. AM AT DAD’S NOW. GUESS WHAT! HE’S GAY!!! I’VE MET HIS BOYFRIEND AND EVERYTHING! WE JUST HAD A GREAT DAY. EVEN MUM SEEMS RELAXED.
A message came back right away. WHAAAAAAAT? YOUR DAD’S GAY!!!??? YOU LUCKY THING! WISH MY DAD WAS GAY. HE’S SO BORING.
Jess tapped away at her phone keypad again. FRED’S COME DOWN TO ST IVES. AMAZING! IT WAS A TOTAL SURPRISE. HE HITCHED DOWN JUST TO SEE ME!
MUST BE LURVE came Flora’s reply. GOTTA GO NOW — DAVE’S BY CAMPFIRE WAITING FOR A SNOG. TEXT YOU TOMORROW. BIG HUGS, FLO XXX
Jess sighed in satisfaction, switched off her mobile and went to sleep. She hadn’t felt so contented for years. But she still dreamed she was being chased through deserted streets by a man with a pizza instead of a face. She only just managed to escape him at the last minute by summoning all her strength and rising up into the air. Dreams were so weird.
Chapter 38
Next day Mum arrived with Granny and the urn. They had to wait at Dad’s house until high tide, apparently. Granny threw her arms around Dad and told him she’d missed him. Dad looked pleased and offered her a freshly baked cheese scone.
‘Where’s this lovely Phil I’ve heard so much about?’ said Granny, looking round.
Dad blushed. ‘He’s getting his boat ready,’ he explained.
They sat on the sofa together, talking about Grandpa. Dad and Grandpa had got on really well. Grandpa was seriously into DIY and Dad had once helped him build a shed in his back garden. Dad had painted flowers all over it so it blended in with the rose hedge, and as a joke he’d added a cat’s face looking out of the leaves.
Mum went up on the terrace with Jess and Fred. Jess carried up a tray of tea. She had got used to Dad’s kitchen now. It was nice, knowing where things were. As if she belonged here. She didn’t want just to belong here. But she wanted to belong here as well.
‘Dad’s house is so lovely,’ sighed Mum, as Jess put down the tray. ‘This deck – the view over the roofs …’
‘Our house is lovely, too, Mum,’ said Jess.
‘Is it?’ asked Mum, looking anxious. ‘Do you really think so? It’s a mess, most of the time.’
‘Well, that’s because we’re not as tidy as Dad,’ said Jess. ‘But we could paint our sitting room blue and white if you like.’
‘Yes, maybe we should,’ said Mum. ‘It really needs redecorating. But I’ve been putting it off because I hate trying to reach up to the ceiling.’
‘I’ll come and give you a hand if you like,’ said Fred. ‘I have these long arms: may as well use them.’
‘Oh, will you really, Fred?’ said Jess’s mum. ‘How kind of you! That would be marvellous!’ Mum’s eyes shone, and then she seemed a bit embarrassed, and started fussing with the tea tray. She took the lid off the teapot and stirred the tea.
‘Leave that teapot alone!’ said Jess playfully. ‘You relax, for once. I’m going to be mother.’ Jess poured the tea out and passed the scones round.
They sipped their tea and ate Dad’s delicious scones. Nobody said anything very much. It was just peaceful and relaxed. The sun grew hot, but they were protected by a sort of awning thing that Dad had rigged up.
The last scone sat temptingly on the plate, sending its waves of hot cheese tantalisingly through the air.
‘You have it, Mum!’ said Jess.
‘No, you have it, Fred!’ said Mum.
‘No, no, you have it!’ said Fred.
‘Aren’t we all polite?’ said Jess. ‘But I happen to know there are loads more scones down in the kitchen.’
‘I’ll go and get a couple more,’ said Fred. He got up and clattered down the stairs.
Mum yawned, stretched as if she were very relaxed, and ran her fingers through her hair. All the wiry anxiety seemed to have gone out of her.
‘How’s Flora?’ she asked.
‘OK,’ said Jess. ‘She’s fine.’
‘Oh good,’ said Mum. ‘Such a nice girl.’
‘I think part of my problem with Flora,’ said Jess, ‘is I’ve always been a bit jealous. It is tough, having a friend who looks like a goddess.’
‘Rubbish!’ said Mum. ‘OK, she is beautiful, but so are you in your way.’
‘In our way,’ said Jess. ‘I look just like you, Mum. And guess what Fred said last night?’
Her mum looked a bit tense for a moment, in case Jess was about to reveal Fred’s declaration of love, or offer of immediate marriage.
‘What did he say?’ she asked.
‘He said you looked just like Jane Austen!’ said Jess – in a rather furtive whisper, because she could hear Fred coming back upstairs with the cheese scones.
‘Jane Austen?’ mouthed her mum in amazement, as if she might have misheard, and Fred might really have said she resembled Jane Mostyn, or Shane Frosting. Jess nodded.
Fred came out on to the deck, and offered Jess’s mum a cheese scone. She took one.
‘Oh thank you, Fred!’ she said. ‘You’re an absolute angel!’ And she gave him an utterly dazzling smile.
Fred looked startled. When he’d made that Jane Austen comment, he’d really struck gold.
If you ever want to sweep a middle-aged librarian off her feet, thought Jess, just say that she looks like Jane Austen. Jess could tell, by the way her mum looked at Fred, she would adore him for ever. Well, they could adore him in stereo.
When it was high tide, they all walked down to the harbour. Dad was carrying the urn. They walked right down on to the pier. Phil’s boat was waiting at the bottom of a flight of stone steps. He was dressed all in white, and the boat was decorated with white flowers.
‘Oh my goodness!’ said Granny. ‘How beautiful! It takes my breath away!’
Dad and Mum helped Granny get into the boat. Phil held her hand, steadied her, made her comfortable and helped her into a cute little lifejacket. It had been decided that Granny would go out on her own with Phil. That was the way she wanted it.
Phil fixed Grandpa’s urn safely to the prow of the boat and decorated it with flowers and white ribbons. Then he started up the engine. Granny held on to the side of the boat, looked up and waved with a happy smile, as if she were going on a pleasure jaunt. Jess and Fred weren’t going out in the boat because Jess had been a bit nervous about feeling seasick, so Jess waved back down to Granny and blew her a kiss.
Phil gave a sort of salute, and steered the boat out of the harbour. Off it went, out into the bay. The sea was as placid as a pane of glass. Jess and Fred stood on the pier and watched for a minute. Mum got her hankie out and wiped her eyes. Dad gently put his arm round her shoulders.
Jess liked seeing her parents close and sharing a tender moment. But she realised that she was free for ever from that nagging desire that she’d always had at the back of her mind: that they should get together again. It was impossible. You could as soon marry a budgie and a haddock.
Fred stood close to her. He didn’t put his arm round her, but their arms touched as they leaned on the wall of the pier. Jess could feel Fred’s warmth. It was glorious. Thank goodness he was not a reptile. Jess felt very sorry for cold-blooded crocodiles for a moment. It must be terrible trying to have a relationship without any cosy hugs.
They watched the little boat as it went out into the very centre of the bay and then stopped. It was too far away to see what was happening, but there was a brief pause. Seagulls called, the sun danced on the waves.
After a while, the boat came back again. As it got closer, they could see that Granny had a flower in her hair. Jess smiled to herself.
They all crowded down the steps and helped Granny out again. Her eyes were a little bit wet, but her smile was bright.
‘We saw a dolphin,’ said Granny. ‘It reminded me of Grandpa somehow. The smile, you know.’
‘I’ve had an idea,’ said Dad. ‘As soon as I get ba
ck to my studio, I’m going to start work on a painting of Grandpa. Sitting at the door of his shed, just like he used to do.’
‘When he wanted to escape from my nagging,’ said Granny. ‘What a lovely idea! Paint him in that old green tweed jacket, Tim. That was his favourite.’
‘So, anyone for funeral fish and chips?’ asked Phil. ‘Take ’em home and guzzle ’em with a bottle of cold champagne?’
‘Oh yes, please!’ said Mum. ‘Just perfect!’
Chapter 39
After lunch, it seemed the grown-ups no longer needed any support or counselling. Phil went back to work. Mum lay on a lounger in the shade on Dad’s terrace and closed her eyes. Granny and Dad went through an old photo album, looking for photos of Grandpa to help Dad prepare for the painting he was going to do.
‘Come on!’ whispered Fred. ‘Let’s go to the beach!’
‘Yes! Let’s swim!’ said Jess. ‘Though you must promise not to stare in dismay at my podge when you see me in my bikini!’
‘And you must avert your gaze from my puny stick-like legs,’ said Fred. ‘It’ll only be a matter of time before a bodybuilder comes up and kicks sand in my face.’
Jess grabbed her swimming kit and a couple of beach towels. Mum had made them promise they would rub Factor 30 on each other.
‘Oh, Mum!’ sighed Jess as if the very idea was deathly boring. Although, of course, she was looking forward to rubbing sun cream on Fred as much as a cat looks forward to finding a dropped sardine under the kitchen table.
They went out. The sun was bouncing up and down the street as if it had been ordered as part of a Sun, Surf ’n’ Lurve Holiday Romance Package.
‘Oh!’ sighed Jess. ‘I’m so happy it’s absolutely revolting! I expect some scaffolding will collapse on to us, or something.’
‘Or maybe we’ll get run over,’ said Fred. ‘Being very happy is just asking for trouble.’ He grabbed her hand and squeezed it so hard it made her knuckles crack. This was the best day of her life so far – even with several broken fingers.
The beach, though crowded, was immense, and they soon found a semi-private corner only a short distance away from three bickering families and some clinically obese people playing badminton. It was heaven on earth.
