30. Nigel
NIGEL
‘Can I join you?’ Mark asked as he walked into the drawing room.
‘Sure.’ Nigel was sitting in front of the remains of the fire, debating whether to add another log or go to bed. It looked like the log was going to win. He chose a medium-sized one from the stack next to the fireplace and used the tongs to position it over the remains of the previous one.
‘Why are you sitting in the dark?’ Mark asked.
‘I like the glow of the fire.’
He watched the flames eagerly lick the underside of the dry wood while Mark went over to the drinks cabinet and turned on a table lamp.
‘Want some?’ Mark asked.
Nigel looked up. Mark was holding a bottle of Springbank single malt. ‘Just a small one. Your taste in alcohol has improved considerably since I was last here.’
‘Blame my best mate.’
‘Jack? I gather he’s doing alright for himself. We had a brief chat at the party.’
‘He and Em are very happy. Em’s a big improvement over Mrs Jack number one.’
Nigel vaguely remembered some scandal about Mark and Jack’s first wife. But with Mark looking like he wanted to be friendly, now wasn’t the time to bring that up.
Mark poured two measures of whisky and walked over to the fireplace. He handed Nigel one of the cut glass tumblers before sitting down on the opposite sofa.
‘How’s Lucy?’ Nigel asked.
‘Fast asleep. She’s fine now. Just exhausted after today. So am I.’ He swirled the amber liquid around in the glass before taking a sip. ‘I can’t thank you enough for what you did.’
‘It was nothing.’
‘You could’ve called an ambulance.’
‘It would’ve taken too long.’
‘She said you were very supportive.’
‘You sound shocked.’
‘Considering we haven’t exactly been the best of friends over the years, I was surprised you were willing to put yourself out.’
‘Lucy was distressed. Understandably. And I wasn’t about to abandon her just because she has appalling taste in men.’ He grinned at Mark.
Mark huffed. ‘You’re right. She does have appalling taste in men. Which is very lucky for me.’
‘I’m glad it’s all going to be okay. You two look very happy together.’
‘I think we are. I definitely am.’
‘Are you going to marry her, or have you done that already, and I missed it?’
‘You have a habit of missing weddings, but no, we haven’t got around to it yet. The pandemic got in the way. And now Lucy wants to leave it until our child is born. I’m terrified.’
‘Getting married is the easy part. Staying married is harder.’
‘I meant becoming a father, but I take your point.’
‘I suspect you’ll make a good dad.’ Nigel pictured Mark throwing himself into fatherhood with the same optimistic enthusiasm he tackled everything else. Life must be a lot easier when you weren’t an overthinker.
Mark was gazing at the flames that were engulfing the new log now. ‘I’m going to try very hard to be better than ours - both at the childcare element and the “not fucking every woman in sight” side of it, too. I don’t want to be an embarrassment to my child.’
Nigel paused for a minute. What had Mark just said? ‘I thought there was only one mistress - Silvia, Gabriella’s mother?’
‘She was his regular one, but there were plenty more, the filthy old sod. If you’d come back from uni more often, you’d have realised it was common knowledge around here.’
‘So Mum knew?’
‘Definitely. Turned a blind eye. Guess it suited her. I’ve never really asked,’ Mark shrugged.
‘Today’s been an eye-opener one way and another. Have you heard from our half-sister recently?’ Nigel asked.
‘Which one?’
‘Oh yeah. I was forgetting about Julia. I meant Gabriella.’
‘She sent me a Happy Christmas text. She’s in France now. Working her way around Europe by the sounds of it.’
They sat in silence for a few minutes, staring at the fire.
‘Are you missing your family?’ Mark asked, eventually. ‘Maddie and the firm of solicitors?’
Nigel laughed. ‘I know you don’t like your nieces’ names, but I can assure you they fit perfectly in Madison’s family.
’ Madison’s family, but not the Farnhams. That was an interesting thought.
He took a sip of whisky, enjoying the warming sensation as it made its way down his throat.
‘And yes, I am missing them. The girls, anyway.’
‘I’m sorry how things have worked out.’
‘Que sera, sera.’
‘At least you’ve got Helen.’
‘Have I?’
‘The way she lights up when she talks about you, I’d say so.’
Nigel tapped the side of his glass a few times while he reflected on Mark’s comment. ‘I’m not sure that’s true. We’re just friends.’
‘Really? You always seemed like the perfect couple. You still do.’
‘She’s never wanted to be more than friends. Sadly.’
He was in danger of saying too much. It must be the whisky. He downed the rest of the glass and stood up. ‘I’m going to turn in for the night.’
Mark nodded. ‘I’ll sort the fire out.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And Nige.’
Nigel paused at the drawing room door. ‘Yeah?’
‘I’m glad you’re back.’