by Lisa Jewell
‘I’m so proud of you, boys,’ he said, tears brimming in his eyes, ‘so proud of everything you’ve done and everything you’ve yet to do and I’m so proud of my family. I am the luckiest man in the world – and I owe it all to my beloved Bernie. Bernie-’ he turned to address his sobbing wife – ‘give us a hug.’ Bernie collapsed into Gerry’s arms, tears streaming down her cheeks, flushed with pride and happiness, and the room erupted into applause and wolf-whistles.
Sean wiped a tear from his eye. He felt overcome with emotion and euphoric with joy. That was the most fantastic speech he’d ever heard. And, as he listened to the heartfelt applause and watched his parents tenderly hugging in front of everyone they knew and loved, he suddenly knew that it was time. He gave Millie a kiss on the lips and headed towards the front of the crowd.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said clanging a spoon against a glass, ‘ladies and gentlemen. I have an announcement to make.’The crowd quietened down and turned to look at him. ‘First of all, I just wanted to echo everything that Dad’s just said about our mother. She is a truly magnificent person and I want to thank her from the bottom of my soul for everything she has done to make us feel like we could do anything we wanted. I would not be in the position I’m in today if it wasn’t for my mother’s unconditional approval. I would also like to say that I truly hope that there is something in all that astrology business and that my mother’s generous and fun-loving personality has something to do with the date on which she was born. Because on December the first, this year, another person is going to be born. And my parents are going to be grandparents. Because me and Millie – we’re pregnant!’
There was complete silence for a split second, and then Bernie’s eyes opened up into wide circles and her hands went up to her cheeks and she opened up her big mouth and screamed like a seven-year-old girl at a Steps concert.
‘And if anyone ever deserved to be grandparents, it’s these two. I love you both. To Bernie and Gerry,’ Sean finished, raising his glass before being accosted by his parents and showered with hugs and kisses.
Sean found Millie’s hand and squeezed it. She turned from the conversation she was having with Bernie and Gerry and threw him a smile. And Sean felt himself swell up inside with pride and completeness. Because this was it, he realized, this was love. Love wasn’t trendy drinking clubs, unpredictability and nightly sex. It wasn’t existing in a vacuum and pretending the outside world didn’t really exist. It was him and Millie, growing together, sharing, laughing and having fun together. It was family. It was this.
A couple of hours later, Tony, Sean and Ned found themselves lined up at the urinals, in order of age from left to right, peeing in unison.
They were all very drunk.
‘Shit – Sean!’ said Ned, zipping up his fly and leaning against the wall. ‘I still can’t believe it. You’re going to be a fucking dad! How long have you known?’
‘Six weeks.’
‘And you didn’t tell me?! You toerag.’
‘Sorry, mate,’ said Sean, swaying a little bit from side to side, as he zipped himself up. ‘Sorry. I was in a bit of denial there for a while. Couldn’t quite admit to myself what was happening, let alone tell anyone else.’
‘So, you’ve resigned yourself to it, then?’ said Tony, turning to wash his hands.
‘Yeah,’ said Sean, looking at his feet. ‘Well – no. I haven’t resigned myself to it. I believe it. That’s the difference. It wasn’t real before. Now it is. And it’s fucking great! Look, Tone,’ he said, ‘all that stuff the other night. I’m really fucking sorry, all right? You were right. I was wrong. I don’t blame you for taking Millie’s side…’
‘What?’ said Ned. ‘What’s going on?’
‘… and I just said those things because I knew you were right and I couldn’t admit it to myself…’
‘What are you talking about?’ said Ned.
‘And I just wanted to say – thank you for looking after Millie while I wasn’t. I’ll never forget it, honest. And neither will she. You’ve been a brother to both of us, these past weeks. A real, proper brother. And I haven’t appreciated it. And I’m so sorry about everything, Tone, so sorry…’
‘Me, too, mate,’ said Tony. ‘I’m sorry, too. I was out of order. I didn’t mean those things I said. I was just going through something myself, you know. Feeling insecure and unconfident. I was just jealous of you. But you’ve done so well and I’m so fucking proud of you, I really am.’
Sean stared at Tony for a moment and Ned saw tears shining in his eyes. ‘I fucking love you, Tone. Like really, really,’ he patted his heart with his fist, ‘love you.’ And then he threw his arms around Tony and squeezed and patted him, and Tony squeezed and patted him back.
‘What!’ said Ned, starting to feel really left out.
‘Nothing!’ shouted Sean, jubilantly, ‘absolutely fucking nothing! Everything is perfect! Come here!’ he opened his arms out to invite Ned into the group and for a minute or two the three of them huddled together in a warm, boozy circle of fraternal love.
And then a figure appeared at the toilet door. ‘Gervase!’ said Ned, grinning at his new friend. ‘All right?’ grinned Sean and Tony who were still standing with their arms around each other.
‘How’s it hanging, Gervase?’ said Sean, walking towards him and putting an arm around his shoulder.
‘Excellent,’ said Gervase, rubbing his hands together and looking around the room at the three brothers. ‘You boys look happy. Been having a nice time?’
‘Rocking,’ said Ned.
‘Good,’ said Gervase, nodding sagely, ‘that’s nice. So – everyone’s happy, then?’
The boys all looked at each other. ‘Yeah,’ said Ned, ‘I reckon. Here. Look. I want to propose a toast. I want to propose a toast to Gervase. The most rocking bloke I know and a true friend.’
‘Yeah,’ said Sean and Tony nodding furiously, much to Ned’s surprise. ‘To Gervase. Cheers.’
The four men picked up the beer bottles they’d brought in from the bar and clinked them together. Then Sean put his down, looked at Gervase for a minute and suddenly leapt on him and hugged him. ‘You’re the best, Gervase,’ he said, ‘you’re the total best. I’ll never forget what you did for me. Never!’
Ned looked on in wonder. Sean was obviously even more pissed than he looked. Gervase looked pleased but embarrassed and extricated himself gently from Sean’s puppy-dog embrace. ‘You boys,’ he said, looking round at them, ‘you’re all so fucking lucky, you know that don’t you?’
They nodded.
‘Sean – you’ve got Millie and the little one on the way. Tone – you’ve got your freedom for a while. Ned — you’ve got your whole future ahead of you and all these people behind you. But most of all, you’ve got each other. What a gift, eh?’ He smiled. ‘Brothers – what a gift. Don’t ever take it for granted, eh? Appreciate it, every day. Look after each other. Yeah?’
They all nodded enthusiastically and patted each other some more.
‘Anyway,’ he said, checking his reflection in the mirror. ‘I just came up to say that number one, your birds are looking for you.’ He looked at Sean and Ned. ‘Number two, your Mum and Dad are looking for you. And number three, I’m pushing off, so I’m going to say goodnight.’
‘You’re going?’ said Ned, looking at his watch in disbelief.
‘Yeah. I’m whacked. And I’m effing hungry, too. Couldn’t be doing with those poncey little things on trays. I’m going to KFC.’
‘Oh, come on, Gervase. Stay. We’ll go up to our rooms. Get some room service or something.’
‘No – seriously, boys. I’m off. I need some meat, you know.’ He rubbed his stomach. ‘But get yourselves back in there, yeah? This isn’t just about your mum and dad – it’s about you boys, too. You should be with them. Yeah?’
He put his hands in his pockets and looked at them all. Ned looked at his friend standing there in his ludicrous ensemble and felt warmth flooding his body.
‘Night, then, Gervase,’ he said, putting out his hand to shake his. ‘And thanks for everything.’
‘Pah de problemme,’ said Gervase, shaking all the boys’ hands and then heading for the door. ‘A pleasure doing business with you.’
And then he passed his hand over the top of his flat-top and left the room, and as the door closed behind him a shiver ran down Ned’s spine.
Something Missing
Breakfast the next morning was a delicate, subdued affair involving a full English, tea in silver pots, three different types of toast, four different types of jam, huge linen napkins and not much in the way of conversation. Ned glanced at a pale and sickly-looking Ness across the breakfast table and felt a sense of reassurance and security having her there. He wanted her to always be there. For everything. For ever.
The party had gone on until midnight, then a large group of them had retired to the bar to drink some more. Mum and Dad had managed to stay up till a quite heroic three a.m. and Tony, Sean, Ned and Ness had still been drinking at five in the morning. Nothing had happened between him and Ness last night – they hadn’t even really spent any time on their own together – but they had got on incredibly well. They’d made each other laugh all night long and Ness had done a lot of grabbing his arm and squeezing his knee while they talked. At the end of the night, when everyone had started feeling green with tiredness and drunkenness, she’d said she was going to get a cab, but Ned had managed to persuade her to stay by offering her his bed. Not with him in it, of course. He’d shared with Tony and slept with his pillow over his head to block out his voluminous snoring.
‘What a night!’ said Bernie, getting out of Dad’s car outside Beulah Hill later that afternoon. ‘What a fantastic night!’
‘This is the worst hangover I have ever had,’ said a frail-looking Ness, pulling herself painfully from the car and then clinging on to the side of it to steady herself.
‘You need a coffee, love,’ said Bernie. ‘You can’t drive home in this state.’
‘No,’ she said, ‘you’re right. I’ll stop for a while.’
Ned smiled to himself. Gerry unlocked the front door and then suddenly turned around and whipped Bernie off her feet, picking her up and attempting to carry her over the threshold.
‘Get off me!’ Bernie protested, hitting him with her handbag. ‘Put me down, you stupid bastard. What on earth do you think you’re doing.’
‘Oh shut up, Granny,’ said Gerry, giving her a big kiss on the cheek.
‘Granny,’ said Bernie, testing out the word and smiling as Gerry deposited her in the hallway. ‘Oh my God – I’m going to be a granny!’
Goldie shuffled into the hallway to greet his absentee family, his expression telling them that he couldn’t quite believe that they’d all gone out for the night and had fun without him.
Mum and Ness went into the kitchen to make coffee and Ned looked round the house. Something felt wrong, but he wasn’t quite sure what. There was something strange about the atmosphere. Something missing. He wandered through the living room and the dining room and then he went upstairs, already knowing what it was but not quite able to believe it.
The door to Gervase’s bedroom was closed. Ned knocked on it. No answer. He knocked again. ‘Gervase. Are you there?’ Still no answer. He slowly pushed open the door and was confronted by an empty room. And not just empty of Gervase, but empty of Gervase’s things. His guitar. His record player. His record collection. His leather jacket. His wardrobe was empty. His shoes were no longer lined up under his full-length mirror. The confederate flag was gone from his window and the picture of Elvis was missing from the wall. His bed had been stripped down to the mattress and the sink in the corner was devoid of his toothbrush and toothpaste.
Gervase was gone.
His friend Gervase.
Gone.
Ned’s chin dropped on to his chest. How could he do this? How could he just up sticks and leave them? He was part of the family. He was one of them. He belonged here.
He shambled towards his bedroom and opened the door. There was something on his bed. A Robert Gordon album, a proper vinyl album. On top of it was an envelope. Ned sat down heavily on his bed and opened the envelope.
Inside was a card with a picture of Elvis on the front. He opened it up and read:
Ned – nothing personal, mate, but it’s time to move on. It’s been a true honour hanging out with the Londons these last few months, but I go with the wind, really, and I can feel it changing direction, taking me somewhere new. I’ve written to your mum and dad separately but this one’s for you and your brothers. Your mum’s done her best with you and I don’t think I’ve ever met a mum like her, with so much love in her heart. But in trying to love you all to death she did you some disservices – she never taught you about responsibility or how to put other people ahead of yourselves. People are like cakes, Ned – you’ve got to slice them up and share them round otherwise you’ll eat the lot and puke up. Well, not so much you, Ned; you’ve a kinder heart than your brothers, but you can still be a bit of a flake. I think you boys have all learnt a lot about sharing yourselves these past few weeks – just keep it up, yeah? The more you share, the better you like yourself.
I don’t know if we’ll meet again – I hope so. You live in London long enough you tend to bump into everyone you know at least once, don’t you? So keep your eyes peeled, Ned – you never know!
Live long, live well, love much and keep it real.
Your friend,
Gervase McGregor
E-pilogue
From:
Anthony London [SMTP: [email protected]]
Sent:
Tue, 4 Dec 2001 23:14
To:
Sean London [SMTP: [email protected]]
Subject:
My niece
Well you two! You did it! And a girl – about time there was one of those in the family! Thanks for the picture – am I allowed to say that she looks like Granddad Seamus when he’s pissed? But then all babies look like Granddad Seamus to me! Seriously, though – I’m sure she’ll be a stunner when she’s older, like her mum. How is Millie? She wrote to me last week and said she felt like she was going to give birth to a walrus. Nine pounds two ounces – that’s fucking big, isn’t it? Hope my niece doesn’t end up with my physique, poor little thing. Though you’d probably not recognize me now – all this sunshine and healthy eating – I’ve lost loads of weight. Back to a 36”-waist trouser now!
I’m writing to you from a café in downtown San Francisco. It’s nearly midnight and it’s still warm outside. It’s fantastic here. I never thought I’d feel as passionate about another city as I do about London, but I tell you – this place, it’s got everything. You two should bring little Eva over as soon as you can travel. There’s a spare room in my house and I’m a five-minute walk from the beach. I’m going to book my flight home when I’ve finished writing to you. I should be back next Wednesday – just a flying visit, though, I’m afraid. Yeah, you’ve guessed it, there’s business issues. I met up with a guy last week, an illustrator… of course we got talking and we’re thinking of setting something up – a card business. Well, stick with what you know! I just can’t help it; I’m crap at sitting around. I’ve had my holiday now – it’s time to get back to the graft.
Ned’s doing really well at London Cards. I keep getting e-mails from my (ex) staff singing his praises. I just hope he’s looking after my flat and hasn’t turned it into a carbon copy of Mum and Dad’s place! And what about him and Ness?! What a turn up for the fucking books! He was really nervous about telling me, as if I was going to get all proprietorial about it and jealous! I could not be happier! I knew they were getting really friendly and spending a lot of time together but I never thought it would turn into anything else. I’m really, really glad for them both – they’re both really nice people and they both deserve it.
Mum says the publishers loved the second book and have given you a new contract – that
’s fantastic. When’s it coming out? I’ll have to come back for the launch. And send me an advance copy, you fucker! I’ve got a bit more time these days for sitting around and reading!
Anyway. I’m so happy for you, Sean. So happy about the book and about you and Millie (when are you going to make an honest woman of her?!) and now little Eva too. It’s so ironic that you’ve ended up exactly where I thought I’d be at your age and here I am sitting in an Internet café in San Francisco wearing shorts and flip-flops and behaving like an overgrown student. Life is strange. Good, but very strange.
Love to you all, Sean – to you and Millie and the baby. And congratulations! I can’t wait to meet her next week!
Your big brother
Uncle Tony (!)
From:
Ned London [SMTP: [email protected]]
Sent:
Tue, 4 Dec 2001 18:15
To:
Tony London [SMTP: [email protected]]
