Chapter Twenty-Nine
All the way back from our service station pitstop, I’d gone over exactly what I wanted to say when I saw him.
How I would explain what happened, why I reacted the way I did, why I ran out without giving him a chance to speak, but when he looked up and caught my eye, all my clever, emotional, slightly self-deprecating and hopefully just-funny-enough speeches disappeared.
His face was unreadable, or at least it was to me.
I never had been good at guessing what people were thinking and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering which parts of his brain were lighting up.
There was a study that suggested emotional regulation, basically controlling your feelings, involved a particular area of the anterior prefrontal cortex.
If I could get him into an MRI, I might have a better chance of working out what was going on in his head, or I could pioneer a truly groundbreaking technique.
I could ask.
‘LaCaroline!’
Rory sprang out from behind his brother, hand held up for a high five.
No one met it.
‘Really? Rude.’ He lowered the hand, looking wildly offended. ‘Whatever. Glad you’re here, saved me a long drive. Who wants a drink?’
‘And the gang’s all here,’ Derek said to me. ‘Right. Since I’ve not had one ounce of sense out of the boy, perhaps you can enlighten me as to what the bloody hell’s been going on?’
I looked at Callum and Callum looked at me.
Silence.
‘I don’t really know where to start,’ I said, not sure who I was talking to. His father asked the question but Callum was the only one I cared about. ‘I didn’t mean any harm.’
‘Apology not expected,’ Derek declared.
‘Good because I didn’t apologize.’
‘Dad, give it a break,’ Callum said, finally finding his voice. ‘I have explained, you just don’t want to hear it. Laura hasn’t done anything wrong.’
‘Not entirely true,’ I muttered, thinking about but not speaking of the massage from hell.
Callum came forward, stepping in front of his parents, Rory and Elsie behind them, and a couple of old dears at the closest table completely rapt.
‘You’re here,’ he said to me. His eyes roamed my face, my body, as though he was looking for something that would prove otherwise, that I was a cardboard cut-out or greenscreen projection. ‘How are you here?’
‘She popped in for a pint.’
‘Unhelpful, Else,’ Rory clipped his sister around the back of the head.
‘Only telling you what she told me,’ she replied, immediately slapping him back in true sibling style then glancing down at the car keys in his hand. ‘Will you drive me home please?’
‘Are you insane?’ he said with a screech of disbelief. ‘And miss whatever the fuck this is? Not a bloody chance, sit your arse down, Elsie McClay.’
He didn’t know it but they were my thoughts exactly.
What was this? What would Callum say? Why did Derek look like he’d just had a gobstopper from Willy Wonka’s factory?
When would Elsie launch herself on me like a silverback gorilla and beat me around the head with one of Graham’s homemade Scotch eggs? And why, oh why, was Lizzie smiling?
‘You’re here,’ Callum said again, breathing out the second word on a sigh.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘There’s a chance I was a bit rash in leaving.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Hmm.’ I offered a slow nod. ‘Desi thought you might have something to say and I didn’t really give you a chance to say it.’
His lips twitched and the ghost of a smile passed behind his eyes.
‘That’s what Desi thought, is it?’
‘And Joel. And the security guard at the little M&S at the service station but that’s a longer story.’
‘One we’ll be coming back to.’
It felt as though I was watching it all happen from outside my body, hanging from the rafters above and wincing at the absurd, blank expression on my face as Callum came closer, until we were toe-to-toe, and took my hands in his.
‘Is this OK?’ he asked, very, very softly.
‘Yes,’ I said, rushing back into myself at the touch of his soft, warm skin. ‘It’s OK.’
‘Good. Joel, Desi and your man at M&S were right. Mum, Dad,’ He turned toward his parents, Derek still purple-faced and fractious, Lizzie looking strangely pleased. ‘I’d like to introduce you to someone, this is Laura Pearce, she’s a neurosurgeon.’
‘Trainee neuro— you know what, never mind,’ I said, cutting myself off. ‘Yes, I’m a neurosurgeon.’
‘Wouldn’t want her fiddling around in my brain,’ Elsie muttered, loud enough to make sure we all heard.
‘Better to have her fiddling around in your brain than giving you a massage,’ Derek replied. He was not wrong.
‘We met when Laura came to rent my flat while I’m away in Paris,’ Callum went on, still smiling at me and ignoring everyone else, an impressive feat but one I knew he’d been working on all his life. ‘Obviously she’s gorgeous—’
A pause for Elsie to make a puking sound.
‘But I think she’s pretty amazing as well. She’s funny and she’s kind. She’s spontaneous—’
‘No, she isn’t,’ I interrupted, leaning to the side to make sure his parents saw the certainty on my face. ‘This was my first crack at spontaneity and it will be my last.’
But Callum grinned and my knees wobbled. ‘Fine. She’s funny and kind and fascinating. I haven’t been able to think straight since the moment she walked into my flat.’
‘Oh,’ I said, shyly tucking my hair behind my ear. ‘Well, that’s nice.’
The words whispered out of me, barely louder than a breath, but he was so close now, staring intently at the shapes formed by my lips, even in the din of The Clach, I knew he could hear every single one.
‘I have one question.’
Tearing my eyes away from Callum’s sapphire irises, I looked over to see Derek’s expression softening slightly.
‘Are you or are you not …’ He paused to take a deep, steadying breath, one hand on his wife’s shoulder. ‘A vegan?’
‘No,’ I replied firmly. ‘I am not.’
Derek McClay blew out an enormous sigh, his whole body deflating.
‘At least that’s something,’ he said. ‘He hasn’t lost his mind completely.’
Lizzie placed her hand on the small of his back and pushed him in the direction of the door.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We need to go home and check on the goose.’
‘I thought we were getting a drink and talking some sense into your son about this French pudding nonsense?’ Derek replied, refusing to move.
‘That’s because that’s what I wanted you to think.
Cal isn’t the one who needs to be talked to.
’ Snatching the car keys from Rory’s hand, she gave Derek a look that made me physically quake.
‘We’ve a lot to discuss but it won’t work itself out over one whisky in The Clach and now’s not the time, there’s no point trying to talk to a man when he’s hungry or in love. ’
My stomach flipped at Lizzie’s casual invocation of the L word. It was too soon for that, far too soon. Wasn’t it? Too soon to say it out loud at least, no matter what the little voice whispered in the back of my mind.
‘I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Laura,’ she said, patting Callum’s forearm before nodding at me.
‘You too?’ I replied, feeling unexpectedly exposed by the sound of my own name.
She smiled, tender and kind, and a sweet sadness pierced my heart. It was a long time since anyone had looked at me that way but it wasn’t the sort of feeling you forgot. Just for a moment, I missed my mum with a fierceness that threatened to swallow me whole.
‘We’ll leave you to talk,’ Lizzie said as she led Derek away, back to the car. ‘Don’t be too long, lunch is on the table at two whether you’re there or not. I won’t serve a dry bird.’
‘Surely she’s not invited?’ Elsie exclaimed, aflame with outrage.
Rory groaned loudly. ‘For fuck’s sake. Come on, Elsie, haven’t you’ve scrooged it up enough for one day?’
‘What about Shiv?’ she protested, shaking him loose. ‘I’m not leaving her.’
‘What about Shiv?’ Callum echoed. ‘She’s here?’
‘Oh God, Desi!’
I whirled around to locate my friends, fully expecting to find a knockout brawl in progress across the bar.
I shouldn’t have worried. Shiv, Desi and Joel were all sat around the table, chuckling away together like the oldest of friends.
It was a Christmas miracle. That or Joel’s peacekeeping skills were being sorely underutilized as an accountant.
It was time for him to move on to the UN or take over a soft play centre or something.
‘Shiv’s fine, let’s go,’ Rory said, turning Elsie around by her shoulders. ‘If you’re good, I’ll take you round to the neighbour’s house later and you can steal all the kids’ sweeties out from under the tree.’
With a scowl that suggested our relationship was far from salvageable, Elsie let her younger brother shove her back down the passageway to the backdoor of The Clach, leaving Callum and me alone in the crowded bar.
The light from the fire glinted in his burnished bronze hair, the scruff on his chin almost sparkling, and the two old ladies sat at the next table went back to their sherries, looking deeply disappointed.
‘What happened?’ I asked, dazed and genuinely waiting for Elsie to come running back in with a crowbar.
‘I told them the truth,’ Callum replied simply.
‘Eventually. It would be more accurate to say, I shouted at Elsie, Dad shouted at me, Elsie shouted at Mum and after that no one said anything for a good long while because nobody shouts at my mother and gets away with it. Then we all went to church so Mum acted like nothing had happened, after that there was more shouting in the car, and now, we’re here. ’
‘Sounds like good old-fashioned family fun,’ I said, processing the series of events. More or less weird than an emotional breakdown in M&S? I wasn’t sure. ‘Everything’s OK then?’
‘I wouldn’t go that far.’
Glancing down, I realized I was still clutching his hand in mine, and I gave it a squeeze.