Chapter 7
seven
. . .
artie
I watch the lady coming up the street towards us. She looks nothing like Jed, in that she’s small and red-haired, but there’s something about her fierce expression that reminds me of him.
As his words sink in, I shift so I’m standing behind him. He shoots me a wry look. “Don’t reproach me,” I whisper. “She’s your mum. If there’s trouble to be had, she can find it with you.” Then I remember that he’s in this mess because of me. “I want you to know I’ll be very supportive,” I add quickly. “Just from a distance.”
This amuses him, because he bursts into laughter that’s merry and full-throated. I stare because Jed in full-on merriment is a rare sight.
His mum pauses, her expression softening as she looks at her laughing son. I let out a relieved breath and smile.
“Well, that’s a sight I don’t see too often,” she calls.
I give a muted squeak as Jed throws his arm over my shoulders and draws me close to him. His body is big and hot against mine. “Can you play along with me?” he whispers into my ear while nuzzling it.
I shudder at the feel of his warm breath on my neck. I want to curl into him and never leave. I realise he’s waiting for an answer and drag my attention back to him. “What?”
“Can you pretend that we’re lovers?”
It’s so not what I thought he was going to say. “I beg your pardon?”
His mum is nearly on us, and he whispers desperately, “Can you pretend we’re in love, and that’s why we got married?”
Before I can reply, his mother stands before us. “Well?” she says, glaring at her son. “Is it true?”
“Is what true?” Jed asks, bending forward to kiss her. He towers over her, and as she hugs him, I can read happiness in every inch of her body. This is what a parent should look like when they see their child. Not the way my father always did—nervous and wondering what I’d done to upset his wife this time.
They pull apart and she slaps his arm gently. “So, I was at Asda this morning and I bumped into Sally Barker. I think her daughter works for you. Ingrid?”
“Yes, that’s her,” Jed says quickly, his face nervous. “She’s a very good receptionist. A little noisy, but she’s excellent at her job.”
“Well, that’s lovely for Ingrid, but as I haven’t suddenly become LinkedIn, it’s a bit too much information for me. Anyway, Sally and I had a chat over the croissants, and you’ll never guess what she told me.”
“That you don’t need to butter them because they’re actually made of butter.”
I bite my lip to hide a smile, and Jed looks at me, his eyes sparkling.
His mum huffs. “There is nothing that can’t be improved with butter, including croissants. I got this lovely jam at the church summer fair and—” She pauses. “Oh, very clever, but you’re not distracting me this time. So, we were talking about the company and how well you’re doing with it, and then she gave me some very interesting information.”
“Oh shit,” Jed mutters.
“That’s a fair summary of the situation. She told me that her daughter was at your wedding a few weeks ago. Is that true?”
“Ma,” Jed starts.
She draws herself up. “Oh my god, it is true. You’re married .”
Jed smiles nervously at me, and I take the hand he offers me. His fingers clutch tight around mine, and I smile reassuringly at him.
“Yes, Ma,” he says. “This is my husband, Arthur.”
“It’s very nice to meet you,” I say softly. She eyes me dubiously, a ghost of hurt still on her face.
Shit. This is all my fault. I think fast. “Jed didn’t tell you because of me,” I say and feel him freeze next to me. “I’m afraid I don’t have any family left.” Her face softens slightly. “And he didn’t want me to feel overwhelmed by lots of people. We actually were going to have a private ceremony, but Ingrid spotted the banns, and she and some other coworkers turned up to support us as a surprise.”
“Nosy,” she says distractedly. “Just like her mother. I’ve known her to eat three desserts at a restaurant just to hear the outcome of a couple’s row at the next table.”
I bite my lip to hold a smile in, and then she clicks her fingers as realisation dawns in her face. “Arthur? Is it Artie?”
“It is.”
“You work for Jed.” She examines my face with green eyes entirely like her son’s—concentrated and intense. Then suddenly she relaxes. “Well, now I understand.”
“You do? Because I certainly don’t,” Jed says, echoing my own thoughts.
She nods. “Of course. Now I know it’s him, it all makes sense.”
“It does?”
She narrows her eyes at her son. “Is there something wrong with you?”
“No,” he says slowly, as if contemplating the possibility.
“Well, you talk about him all the time. Adam and I knew there was something going on. You’ve been together a while, haven’t you?”
Jed hesitates, and I’m no help, because I’m struggling with the concept that he’s actually spoken with his mum about me.
“What is time?” Jed finally says in an enigmatic masterstroke.
She rolls her eyes, and then I gasp as she steps forward and hugs me. She smells of Sunflowers by Elizabeth Arden, and the solidness of her hug makes my throat tight. When she steps back, she cups my face. “Such a beautiful boy, Jed.”
“Ma, he’s not a puppy at the pound. Don’t scare him away.”
She ignores him and kisses my cheek. “Welcome to the family, Artie.”
All my guilt is overwhelmed by the lovely feeling of having a mother approve of me. “Thank you,” I murmur. “That’s very kind of you.”
She smiles and then turns and slaps her son’s arm.
“Ow! What the hell , Ma?”
“You don’t call, you don’t write.”
“You spout more fiction than Enid Blyton. I popped in for dinner three weeks ago. You must remember that special occasion, because you made me put a bookcase together and then mend the stair rail.”
“And the next minute I look around and you’re bloody married.”
“Which brings me to the question of how you knew how to find us?” Jed says silkily.
“Oh, that nice red-haired young man at your office gave me the address.”
“Well, how lovely of Rafferty. Do remind me to give him a raise.”
Her eyes narrow. “So, are there any more secrets about our family that I’ll be enlightened on by a complete stranger in Asda?”
Jed sighs. “Not a stranger. She was your bridesmaid.”
“Well?”
“No, of course not. Jesus Christ, what was that for?” He yelps as she slaps his arm again.
“That was congratulations.”
“Have you completely abandoned all social conventions? Why did Artie get a hug, and I didn’t?”
“Because something about this is undoubtedly your fault. I’m being proactive.”
I laugh and she shoots me a merry look. “Well, I’ll expect you both round this evening.”
Jed’s eyes widen. “Pardon?”
“For the family party.”
“Oh no,” he starts.
She folds her arms. “The way I see it, Jed, you have two choices. Are you going to turn up at our house and introduce your new husband to your brother and his family and incidentally back me up on the fact that I told Sally I knew all about your marriage and have been organising this party for ages?”
“So, I’m supporting you in your web of lies?”
“Or,” she talks over him with the obvious ease of practise, “are you going to make me confess to my friend that my child— the boy I carried inside me for nine months and who I’ve loved and protected all these years—is actually an ungrateful cretin?”
I can’t help my snort of laughter.
Jed sighs. “We’ll be there for the party which you have been organising for the last decade.”
She shakes her head. “A little less sarcasm and more family spirit might improve the quality of your life.” She kisses me again. “See you in a bit, Artie. Lovely to meet you.” She shakes her head. “Such a pretty boy. In a bit then, Jed,” she says, slapping his arm again.
“Bloody hell, I’ll have repetitive strain injury if you keep doing that.”
“If you didn’t develop it in that arm during your teenage years, I’d say you’re safe now.”
“ Ma ,” Jed squarks and I start to laugh.
“Well, what do you expect?” She winks at me. “Always in his room with the curtains drawn, telling me he liked a dim view of the world, and my hand cream being used up at the rate of knots. Well, I’ll be off. See you later.”
Jed stirs. “Do you want me to give you a lift home?”
She shakes her head. “Of course not. I’ve got a few people to see first.”
“Oh god,” Jed mutters. “Not the Walker grapevine.”
She pulls a phone from her bag and aims the camera at us. “Smile, boys,” she says. We hasten to obey, and she clicks a few times. “Jed, are you constipated? Put your arm around the boy.”
“I bet the royal family have less troublesome paparazzi than her,” Jed mutters under his breath.
“Stop whinging.” His mother checks her phone. “Such a beautiful couple,” she says. “Wait until I tell Mary King. Her son-in-law looks like a constipated turnip. Six o’clock for the Welcome to the Family Artie Party.”
I wave. As we watch her walk back down the street, I start to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Jed asks.
“Just meeting your mother. It’s like finding out that Godzilla had parents.”
“Why did I never realise that you were cheeky? It seems like a dangerous oversight to have made.”
We lapse into a comfortable silence. The sun is warm on my head, and he appears to have forgotten that he still has his arm around me. I fix the comfort surrounding me firmly in my memory. He drops his arm as soon as his mum is out of sight, and I shiver at the loss.
Then he seizes my shoulders and looks into my eyes. “Thank you,” he breathes fervently.
Guilt floods me again. “What the hell have we done, Jed? I feel terrible deceiving her.”
He sighs. “I know. Thank you for getting me off the hook, though.”
“If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been on a hook.” I grimace. “We’ve now committed ourselves to more lies. The slope into wickedness is a lot more slippery than my old RE teacher told me.”
“I just don’t want to tell her the truth.”
“I’m guessing she wouldn’t approve?”
“No. Marriage is for love only.” I flinch, but he doesn’t notice, as he’s lost in thought. “She thinks everyone is like her and Dad were. I didn’t want to disappoint her.”
“Won’t she be more disappointed when we separate?”
His gaze turns thoughtful. “She’ll be sad for a bit, but she knows these things happen. My brother is divorced.” He looks up, brightening a bit “At least she’ll think we gave it the good old British try.”
I grimace. “Jed, she’s your mum. Not Admiral Nelson.”
“You have no idea. If she’d been directing the Battle of Trafalgar, it would have been won in seconds.”
“Let’s go and unpack our cases and then we can face your family.”
“How do you manage to say that in such a sunny tone of voice?”
“It’s my superpower.”
Jed’s family home is a thirties semi-detached house in Wandsworth. It’s on a long street with similar houses and I can hear children’s laughter coming from somewhere nearby. The house is obviously well loved. The windows gleam in the sunshine, the paintwork is immaculate, and the front garden is neat and tidy.
I climb out of the car, smiling at Jed as he opens the door for me. “It’s lovely. Did you grow up here?”
“I was born here.”
“Really?”
He smiles. “Another area of life where my mother was convinced she knew better. Said she’d have a happier birth if she was in the place she loved.”
“Well, she’s probably not wrong. Hospitals can be rather frightening.”
He pauses on the pavement and I want to hoard his tender, concerned expression like Midas with a bag of gold. “You sound like you have personal experience of that,” he says.
“My dad was in hospital for a while before he died.”
He frowns. “I’m guessing that your stepmother wasn’t much support.”
“Not really. We were expected to rally around Laura which didn’t go down well with Daisy.” I dismiss the memory and smile at him. “Goodness, this isn’t a cheery subject before we go into the Artie Party. And look at how it rhymes. That automatically makes it more fabulous.”
“That’s never been my experience. Especially with a poetry slam.”
“You’ve been to a poetry slam? You ?”
He tries a glare but doesn’t quite succeed. “Mick made me go. He said he wanted us to embrace our literary souls, and then signed me up to go on the stage.”
“That’s horrifying ,” I say from the bottom of my shy and retiring soul.
“You’re telling me. I had to sit through two hours of people putting their life’s torment into iambic pentameter. What was even more horrifying was that I was tipsy, and the only thing I could think of was to recite a limerick which opened with the words, ‘There once was a man called Friar Tuck’.”
I burst into laughter, and he shakes his head, a wry look on his face.
“We had to leave soon after,” he concludes. “Mick was laughing so hard I thought he’d wet his pants.”
This is the first time he’s ever mentioned Mick without an undercurrent of sadness, and once again, I wonder about his grief. Sometimes I sense guilt there, as if he’s somehow at fault for something.
“So, you were born here?” I say to cover the suddenly awkward silence.
“My dad swore the labour sent him prematurely grey. He wanted her to be at hospital and then she had my brother at home too.”
His smile is nostalgic, and I bite my lip wondering if I can ask about his dad. It’s just that he’s never told me much before and now all these small details are spilling out of him like the chocolates from a box of Quality Street.
His lip twitches, and he pats my cheek. “He died when I was ten.”
My heart twists. “I’m so sorry. Were you close?”
His face clouds and I curse myself for my nosiness. I never want him to feel sad.
“Yes, very,” he says. “He was funny and kind. He did a lot with me and spent hours ferrying me around to football matches and training. I’m so thankful for that time we had together. He was just this big man who you felt safe with.”
“Like you,” I say without thinking and then blush.
“You think that of me?” His tone is flabbergasted.
I blush harder and he trails a finger down my scarlet cheek, the pad of his fingertip like a kiss on my cheekbone.
“Yes,” I confess foolishly. “I always feel safe with you. It’s like you’re between me and the bad things in the world.” I swallow and add quickly. “While at work, of course.”
His expression is dazed, as if I’d hit him in the face with a stick. “Artie, I?—”
A window opens and his mum shouts, “Are you bringing my new son-in-law in, or shall we celebrate the party I’ve been planning for at least eight months on the pavement?”
Jed sighs. “She could have been a town crier with the power of her lungs.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing, Ma.” He crooks his elbow towards me. “Ready?”
I slide my hand onto his arm, feeling the power of the muscle and the heat of his skin. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Thank you for doing this. We’ll keep it short and sweet, so we don’t have to lie too much.”
“Optimism, thy name is Jed.”
He snorts and ushers me into the house. We step into a narrow hall with a staircase ahead of us. On a console table there’s a telephone and a photo showing a couple in wedding clothes. I recognise Jed’s mum. She looks impossibly young and very happy. His dad was tall and wide-shouldered, and Jed has his smile.
The air smells sweetly of baking, making my mouth water.
We pass a wall of black-and-white photographs, and I come to a stop, ignoring Jed’s immediate protests.
“No, I want to see,” I insist. I search the wall, immediately finding an old photo of two small boys. One is on a bike, his legs barely reaching the pedals, while the older boy who must be Jed is pulling him along. His face frowns in concentration, and I smile. Yes, it’s definitely him. He was tall even then, with long legs and grazed knees. His hair was long and much blonder than it is now. “Oh my god, you were adorable ,” I breathe.
“Oh no,” he whispers. His gaze is frozen on a photo of him in the bath. “Ma, please get rid of this photo. I can’t believe all your visitors are treated to photos of me naked.”
His mum comes down the hall and smiles when she sees what I’m looking at. “That was Jed teaching Adam to ride his bike. Bless him. It took ages.”
“That’s because Adam isn’t terribly bright,” Jed mutters, taking my jacket from me.
His mum cuffs him, and as he laughs, another voice comes from behind them. “Jesus, that was more rigorous than taking my degree. I practically had to memorise the highway code before Jed would take my stabilisers off.”
“Why?” I ask the stranger.
He’s got to be Jed’s brother. I’m immediately fascinated by how he shares Jed’s height, but is thinner, his eyes a deeper shade of green. The mouth is the same, and he has the same strong, good face. His grin is so similar to Jed’s that I relax.
He says, “Because I had to be aware of what other people were doing in cars who wouldn’t have had my superb training. He had a whiteboard and everything.” He holds out his hand. “You must be the famous Artie.”
“Famous?” I gasp as he draws me into a crushing hug.
He pulls away, holding me at arm’s length. “Welcome to the family.” He winks at his brother. “Well, he’s gorgeous. I should have known.”
I’m astounded to see a flush on Jed’s cheeks. “Enough,” he growls and then smiles at me. “This is my brother, Adam. Best to know now to ignore most of what he says.”
“ Most of it?” comes a woman’s voice from the kitchen. “I’d say all of it.”
“Women should hush,” Adam says, winking at me and showing no indignation when his mum elbows him. “Ouch. He’s only just got over the threshold and you’re already picking on me.”
“You deserve it,” calls the woman.
Adam grins at me. “Come and meet my soon-to-be ex-wife, Artie.”
I look back panicked at Jed but he’s walking away with our jackets, so I go along with his mother and brother. We crowd down the narrow hallway and come into a warm kitchen. It’s a big room at the back of the house that’s part of an extension, and it’s full of delicious cooking smells.
A woman is sitting at the table. She’s beautiful—small with shiny, dark hair that falls in a sleek bob, and she’s smiling welcomingly at me. “Artie, is it?”
“Yes.” I put out my hand and shake hers. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“I’m Mei. It’s even lovelier to meet you. I’ve heard such a lot about you.”
“So, Adam said.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t take too much notice of him.”
“I take exception to that remark,” her husband says. “I’ll get Jun.”
“My son,” Mei explains to me. “He’s fifteen. And don’t bother, Adam. He’s gone out for a bit to a friend’s house.”
“I think you’ve actually already met my son who’s at university,” Adam says. “Grant did some work experience with Jed and Joe last year. He said it’s put him off marriage forever. He didn’t realise hysteria could be quite so loud.”
“Oh my god,” I say, making the connection. “I remember him very well. He was the one who set fire to the office kitchen with a Finders crispy pancake.” Mei starts to laugh, and I flush. “He’s absolutely lovely, though,” I add quickly and truthfully.
Adam rolls his eyes fondly. “Lovely and the bringer of all chaos. His mum swears that it would be more peaceful living in prison than with Grant.”
“Alice isn’t wrong,” Mei observes. “I’m still scarred from trying to teach him to drive.”
“Is Jun coming back to meet Artie?” Adam asks.
His wife nods. “He’ll be back in an hour. He said he was going to study.”
“I’ve said that a fair few times myself,” Adam says.
“And it was never true,” Jed says, coming into the room. “Unless it was studying your penis.”
Mei immediately grins and holds out her arms for a hug. “Oh, it’s so lovely to see you, Jed. It’s been ages.”
“Surely not?”
She nods. “Last time was the barbecue when Adam decided to drink that beer he’d brewed himself.”
“Oh god,” Adam says faintly. “I still have the hangover. It might actually be brain damage by now.”
“Your beer obviously reaches the places no one knew even existed,” Jed says.
I snort as Adam shoots him the middle finger.
Mei grins. “No one else would touch it.”
I laugh and Jed shoots me a warm look. “Have you met Artie, Mei?”
“I have.”
He takes my hand. “Sit down,” he urges. “I hope you’re hungry. There’s enough food in the dining room to feed several armies.”
Adam immediately sits down too. “Jun will appear soon, then. Like a hungry homing pigeon.”
Mei chuckles and hugs Jed again. “Congratulations. We’re so happy for you.”
I see him control a wince and try not to let guilt overwhelm my expression.
His mum appears and nods at her two sons. “While you’re here, Jed, the fence is down again, and Mr Simpson’s chickens are getting through.”
Adam shakes his head. “He isn’t allowed to keep chickens. He hasn’t got a permit.”
“Well, since your brother left the force, there’s no one to tell him.”
“When I left, they didn’t disband the police,” Jed mutters.
I want to laugh. The brothers are so much like the two small boys in the photos.
“They might as well have done. All we get is Nigel Hunter lately, and he’s next to useless.”
“Nigel from down the road? I didn’t know he was a policeman,” Jed says, obvious interest in his voice.
I wonder how much he misses it. I know he loves the wedding business, but your first career love must be a tough one to replace.
“I don’t know why,” his mum says, removing a tray of vol-o-vents from the oven. The smell makes my mouth water. “Maybe because now he can tell people what to do. With a mother like his, he must need all the power he can get. Sarah never met an instruction she couldn’t issue.”
“Pot and kettle,” Adam mutters, and Jed snorts.
“Anyway,” she continues, undeterred. “The fence needs putting back up and my washing line is down again.”
“Isn’t this my wedding party?” Jed enquires placidly.
“Well, as you gave me no notice, I’ve had to do the best I can and haven’t had time for anything else.”
“But—”
She turns her face to him, and he subsides. He looks over at me. “Will you be okay?”
“He’s with me and Mei, not a team of interrogators, Jed Walker,” his mother says indignantly.
A flutter of nerves fills my belly. Jed’s probably feeling the same. The ways that this could go wrong are numerous. “I’ll be fine,” I say.
He hesitates and his mum says, “That washing line isn’t going to mend itself.”
“I hope the line’s long enough to tie myself to the fence and let the chickens take me.”
“Sassy,” his brother observes, and they head out of the door, letting a gust of cool air flood in. Their voices fade as his mum shuts the door behind them.
“Brr, the summer already feels like it’s over. It’s going to be a cold autumn.” She smiles at me. “Now, what can I get you Artie, love? A cup of tea or a drink? We’ll save the champagne for when the boys come back in.”
“I think tea, if you don’t mind.” I need to stay sober for this.
She pats my shoulder and bustles over to the kettle. The kitchen is a cosy room with oak cupboards and a gleaming quartz worktop which is currently covered with trays of food. An old, scrubbed pine table sits in a nook with windows that show a view of a long garden. Outside, the two brothers appear to be arguing over a fence panel. A chicken flies at Adam, and he gives a loud squawk audible through the glass and flaps his arms. Jed collapses in laughter, and I smile at the sight. He seems younger here. Not so serious and weighed down by life and loss.
Mei makes a soft noise as she looks out the window, too. “Now that’s a sight I haven’t seen in far too long,” she says.
“Oh?” I say.
“He’s been so solemn and sad since Mick died.” She meets my gaze and blanches. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. That was a terrible thing for me to say. Jed was right to be concerned about leaving you with us.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say immediately. “I know all about Mick.”
“You do?” Her eyes widen.
I shift nervously. Even Jed’s mum has abandoned her tea-making to pay attention.
“Well, of course,” I say. “I’ve worked for him for years, so I know about Mick, and I saw how Jed grieved.” I hesitate. “I don’t know what Mick looked like, though. He doesn’t keep pictures in the office.”
Mei tilts her head at this information, and I blanch because I realise Jed probably has photos of Mick in his flat, and surely as his new husband, I’d have seen them.
“We haven’t been living in the flat,” I add quickly. “We’ve been at my house. I don’t go to the flat,” I say again.
Mei looks a little dubious but is polite enough not to question me.
Jed’s mum sets my tea in front of me and then pulls a photo from yet another wall full of family pictures. She hands it to me, and I look down at the photo. It’s a man sitting on a garden chair holding a beer. He’s very good-looking with blond hair and a handsome face full of laughter.
“That was him,” Jed’s mum says. “Mick.”
My heart sinks and I can only be relieved that she didn’t show me a wedding photo of the two of them. “He looks nice,” I say.
His expression is full of life, and even though it’s just an image, I sense his charisma and energy. He seems very unlike me. I suddenly wish I hadn’t asked. I’ve been holding on to a few delusions about being able to live up to Mick, even in a small way.
Nevertheless, I continue to stare at the photo, noticing the reflection of Jed in Mick’s sunglasses. So, that expression was all for Jed. How could Jed ever get over losing a love like this?
I look up and find Jed’s mum watching me. Her face is kind and knowing, and she reaches over and takes the photo from me and sets it neatly to one side.
“Jed’s dad died when he was ten,” she says abruptly.
“Yes, he told me.”
“He did ?” Both women stare at me.
I shift under their gaze awkwardly. “Yes. He was called Carl, wasn’t he?”
“Well, I never.” His mum shakes her head, a wondering expression on her face. “Jed doesn’t usually talk about it. I don’t think he ever told Michael all the details.”
Michael?
Mei mouths, Mick , and I give her a small smile of thanks.
Jed’s mum carries on. “His dad’s death hurt Jed very much at a formative age, you see.”
“I know,” I say softly. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs Walker.”
“Paula please,” she says immediately.
“I lost my mum when I was two, and I suppose I lost my dad with her,” I say thoughtfully.
She grabs a handful of patterned napkins and starts to fold them, her fingers busy. She glances up at me. “When Carl died, I was a wreck. I’d never known another man. We were childhood sweethearts, and I thought we’d live to an old age together but…” She sighs. “Anyway, it wasn’t to be. And Jed’s life was affected in a lot of ways. He’d been so close to Carl. They were as thick as thieves together and Carl took him to all his sports events. They used to go fishing together every Sunday morning. And then suddenly all that was gone, and I was scattered in pieces. It took me a while to get myself together for the boys, and Jed stepped up to be the man of the house far too young. By the time I was better, it was a role he couldn’t put away.”
“I can imagine that.” They look at me, and I shrug. “He feels responsible for everyone.” I smile at her. “It’s nice, though. Makes you feel safe.”
She scans my features for a long moment and then gives me a warm smile. “That’s very nice to hear,” she says softly. She glances at the photo of the laughing Mick and then sniffs. “He did the same with Michael, you know. Don’t let him do it with you.”
“Pardon?” I’m not sure what she’s talking about.
“Jed didn’t really let him in, did he, Mei?” she says, turning to the younger woman. “He kept his worries to himself.”
Mei nods. “Yeah. I’ve known the Walker brothers since we were kids. I was a few years younger and always had a crush on Adam, but even then, Jed had an air of mystery. He had a wall around him built so high and solidly that no one could get through. He was the kindest, most loyal man you could hope to meet. But he never let anyone look after him, and I always thought that was sad.”
“Well, Michael certainly didn’t try that hard to look after him,” his mum says tartly. She bites her lip and turns to me. “Don’t tell Jed I said that,” she whispers as if he’s behind the door. “It would upset him, and I don’t want to speak ill of Michael. He was a wonderful man—very funny and so clever. He knew things I could never hope to. All sorts of things.” For a moment she pauses, her face soft with wonder.
I shift uncomfortably on the chair. I will never be as clever and knowledgeable as Mick. I can’t be.
“I liked him,” she says. “But I didn’t ever understand the way their marriage was. It wasn’t like me and Carl, and I know you shouldn’t judge, but there was a funny sort of distance between them, maybe because he was so much older than Jed and had all the money. For all that Jed took control in life, he was almost na?ve in some ways.”
“It wasn’t just that,” Mei says. “Mick liked the smooth things in life.”
“That’s it,” Paula exclaims. “That’s the perfect way to describe Michael. He liked things smooth in his personal life, and he didn’t want to know if there was trouble or hurt feelings because then he’d have to get involved. He said he had enough of that at work.” I smile and she continues. “He was a very charismatic man, and I completely understood why Jed picked him, but I don’t think Jed ever knew why Michael chose him , and that’s a shame. You should always know your own worth, shouldn’t you?” I nod, even though I’ve never had that conviction about myself. She carries on. “And that left Jed floundering a bit as to his own importance in the relationship. Oh, I know Michael loved him,” she says quickly. “He adored Jed and treated him well as far as I know but—” She hesitates. “A mother wants more, you know. Jed is a wonderful man, and anyone is lucky to have him on their side, but I want to see him with someone where he can show his weak spots and be valued for them, where he has a partner who will back him up instead of it being a bit one way.”
A silence falls and then she shakes her head. “Silly me. What a thing to talk about when we’re celebrating your wedding. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I say steadily. I reach out daringly and pat her hand. “I will look after him.” The passion in my words might sound awkward, but it’s the most honest I’ve ever been. I truly mean it.
She stares at me for a long beat and then smiles. Joy seems to radiate from her. “Then I will be a very happy woman, Artie.”
I wish with a deep-seated ache that this was real, that his family are going to be mine, and that I could love and hold on to Jed. But it’s not in my stars.
Still, I can do as I promised. I may not be Jed’s husband for long, but I do want to be his friend. I know he doesn’t feel about me the way I want him to, but I’m still going to look after him from now on.