If I Were You

Chapter 68 Flynn

My disguise made me the perfect trouble-shooter for Patty’s largely made-up problems. Disasters they are not. Who knew the linen napkins did not match the theme? Or that the lighting in the ballroom just ‘would not do’. Still, I spent my time reassuring, cajoling and sometimes fixing too. My experience as a party planner came to the fore. She marvelled as I turned a napkin into a swan. Every time I wanted to make a bolt for it, I pictured Amy and Laura up in the honeymoon suite having a brilliant time and knew this was the best place for me.

‘I think we’ve earned a break,’ I say, clapping my hands together before Patty can finish telling me her story about the time she went to the petty claims court over a parking charge notice and won.

‘You want to go back to your sister,’ she says, her mouth puckering.

‘If it’s alright by you, I’d love to talk more – maybe we could get a cappuccino?’

Patty’s eyebrows lift and then she gives me a curt nod. We step outside to the balustraded terrace, the lawn beneath us striped to perfection, two men in the distance laying out the last of the chairs for the service as the waiter brings us two cappuccinos on a round silver tray, chocolate dusting in the perfect shape of a rose on both.

‘It’s looking good,’ I say, settling in a chair and looking towards the lake. The flowered arch is a riot of purples, pinks and creams, the water glittering behind it. The four flamingos are preening in the shallows like wedding guests.

‘Oh look, there they are,’ I say, pointing down to the flamingos. ‘They’ve come out of hiding.’

‘Flamingos are monogamous you know,’ she sniffs. ‘And they co-parent, they both take turns incubating the egg. The man stays.’

Patty glances down and for a second I can see her wrestling with something. The realization strikes me suddenly. Perhaps the bonkers requests are a way of concealing something more? I recall the moments between her and Jay at school: the warm hugs and smiles. Her stoicism when Jay’s dad left them, Jay’s phone calls home to check on her. Then I think of my own way of handling the pain of losing Charlie and find myself reaching for her hand.

She draws back as I touch her. ‘You love Jay,’ I say simply, realizing ultimately that this is what it is all about.

A flash of pain crosses her face and she adjusts her spaceship hat with a cough, ‘Of course.’

‘It must be a bitter-sweet moment, watching him get married? Realizing he’s no longer quite yours.’

She doesn’t answer, reaching for her coffee which leaves a milk moustache I do not comment on. I bite my tongue, remembering the many times Amy has told me I like to fly in, try to resolve people’s problems rather than simply listen.

‘I always imagined doing this for my own daughter,’ Patty says, staring down at the worker ants now stapling clumps of greenery along the bottom of the musicians’ platform. ‘We lost a girl,’ she says carefully, wiping at her mouth. ‘Rather late.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, shocked by the admission.

‘Jay has been very good,’ Patty says, her eyes filmed with tears as she forces a smile. ‘And I know I’ve asked a lot and Laura’s been very accommodating.’ She clears her throat and adjusts her cup and saucer.

‘It’s going to be a wonderful wedding,’ I say, trying to choose my words as carefully as Amy might.

‘Laura is a pleasant young woman,’ Patty sniffs, the words clearly not coming easily.

‘She is. She loves Jay, and family is very important to her,’ I say, knowing that is the absolute truth. I think too of Trish, of what she has hinted at, ‘And I think she’ll need you to be around,’ I add.

‘I hope so,’ Patty says, not meeting my eye as she twists a napkin in her lap. ‘Some of my friends tell me you lose your boys to women. And Laura swept in so quickly. I’ve always been close to my son, so I very much hope not.’

I swallow. After the last forty-eight hours I can see Mum through a different filter now. A woman who lost her husband shockingly, suddenly a widow and single parent to a seven-year-old. A stepdad with money, offering solutions. Agreeing to send me away to prep school to be surrounded by other boys, camaraderie, a network of support. Building up a wall that neither of us knew how to dismantle.

I need to introduce her to Amy too. Amy thought I was embarrassed by her, that my mum would judge her, and, shamefully, I hadn’t disagreed, not wanting to put Amy off me by letting her meet Mum. I can see now that Amy and Mum meeting is vital: families are flawed and messy and I need to accept mine is too and try to build something good.

Below us Eddie passes, Reggie yapping at his feet as they crunch over the gravel. Looking up he calls out, ‘Amy, have you seen Flynn? I was told he was meant to be looking after this bloody dog.’

The weight of the last few moments lifts as I step across the terrace and peer down. ‘Bring him up.’ I cast a look at Patty over my shoulder, ‘Fancy walking him with me so he doesn’t embarrass them during the service?’

Patty looks down at her expensive cream heels and then shrugs as if making a decision. ‘Why not,’ she says and by the time we leave the terrace I think we might be friends.

It’s warmed up when we return, puffing a little, back at the hotel, and Reggie flops down happily on the terrace. ‘I’ll wait with him,’ Patty says, cheeks flushed. ‘You should get up to Laura.’

Guests have begun to find their seats; Jay is waiting down by the lake with the other groomsmen. We were a while on our walk, a rather inspired idea hitting me halfway round.

I find myself reaching down, searching for her cheek under the massive hat and kissing her, ‘Thanks for a lovely morning.’

She nods again, lips pressed tightly together. ‘Get on, get on, I’m fine.’

I turn to leave and just as I reach the glass doors back inside I hear, ‘Oh, and Amy,’ as she calls over her shoulder.

I look back at her.

‘As you said – what happened in the woods, stays in the woods, yes?’

I laugh and nod and give her a wave goodbye, gratified to see a wide smile beneath the hat.