Chapter 21 #2
But I wasn’t sure what that kind of love might look like for me. Not as a graysexual woman with limited experience and even less time.
It was not something I ever raised with Denise and Bob, though.
Partly because they’d never quite understood my sexuality – or perhaps hadn’t known how to – and partly because I hadn’t known how to explain it myself.
They’d nodded along, made all the right noises, but deep down I think they just thought I was picky or scared.
They didn’t see that it was more than that, or that I was comfortable with my lack of interest until they made me feel otherwise.
But it was hard for them to know that, when I never raised it with them.
The truth was, I’d never felt entitled to take up that kind of space with them. They’d already given me so much when my mum died: a home, stability, love. I didn’t want to add confusion or disappointment to the list, or risk being misunderstood when I was still working it out myself.
And without my mum, there had never been anyone it felt natural to talk it through with first.
Josh knew, in the loose, unexamined way LGBT+ friends sometimes do.
Megan and I had tried to speak to about it, but she was so focused on her own explorations and her relationship with Alex, that I never let her examine it further.
Brushing it off whenever she brought it up, making a joke and changing the subject.
It was easier to be the low-maintenance one, and I preferred being the truth bearer, not the truth sharer.
It wasn’t that I was picky or didn’t want love – that couldn’t be further from the truth. I did want it; I wanted what they had. But what if my love life looked and felt different?
I hoped it wouldn’t.
‘Look, Josh is always welcome here.’ Denise’s cheery planning pulled me from my introspection. ‘Even when Megan’s furious with him, he hasn’t hurt her, he just made some erm…’ She considered for a moment. ‘Questionable life choices. Besides, I don’t think she is mad with Josh at all now.’
‘Really?’ I said, my eyebrows creasing in confusion. ‘Then why isn’t she replying to his messages? Or mine, for that matter?’
Denise continued to fold the laundry.
‘I think she’s a little embarrassed about how she behaved.
And about how little she’s shared. I’m her mother, I can tell when things are wrong with her – and with you.
’ I swallowed again but said nothing. ‘She’s not been entirely honest with anybody in this situation.
But…’ she stopped herself and threw some single socks across the room.
‘It’s not for me to talk about. I’m sure she’ll call. ’
‘Really? By Christmas?’
Denise scoffed. ‘Well, even if she doesn’t, you’ll certainly see her at Christmas. She’s coming here with Alfie. And you’ll be here with Josh.’
I didn’t even want to picture what Christmas would look like if Megan still wasn’t talking to us.
Josh’s prediction about flying roast potatoes may well come true.
Although I suspected it was more likely Megan would be more underhand than that and would serve me more roast parsnips than potatoes, as she knows the true betrayal of biting into a parsnip thinking it’s a potato.
It’s a soggy disappointment, unmatched by much else in life.
‘Okay…’ I said, elongating the vowels. ‘But just to be clear, Josh is welcome?’ I confirmed, and Denise nodded vigorously.
‘He can sleep on the sofa. Unless he wants the air bed.’
‘He can have my room,’ I said, with a knowing smile. ‘Save him complaining. I’ll take the air mattress.’
Denise didn’t even try to protest. ‘So will no one else be joining?’ she asked, with a hint of anticipation.
‘No?’ I pondered, surprised she would ask. ‘Pim definitely won’t be joining us.’
The idea of Pim, the woman who lived in the Savoy, ate chef-cooked meals every evening and thought cocktails were acceptable as dessert choices, coming to eat burned turkey, sausage-meat stuffing, and bottled Buck’s Fizz in Kent was laughable.
‘I meant a young man.’
‘What?’ I grinned because usually the idea was laughable – and laughing was my go-to reaction whenever Denise or Bob mentioned my love life.
But maybe this year there was, or had been, a chance of bringing someone home.
Simon.
‘I’m not bringing anyone else,’ I said, with a tone of finality that I hoped Denise would catch.
She didn’t say anything right away. Just gave me that look – soft around the edges, like she was trying not to push too hard. But there was something behind it too. A quiet hope perhaps. Or just parental worry.
‘All right, love,’ she said eventually. ‘We always have room if there is anyone.’
‘She means the air bed, not your room,’ Bob shouted from the other room.
‘Bob!’ Denise and I both said, her sharply and me with embarrassment.
‘There’s no one,’ I said again.
‘Fine,’ Denise said, nodding into the camera as she folded the last of what looked like tablecloths and tea towels. She held my gaze for a moment longer than before, as if checking something beneath the words.
‘You know you don’t have to wait until things make sense before you talk to me,’ she added gently. ‘You never have. Even if it’s just to say you’re tired, or there’s something wrong and you don’t know why yet.’
My throat tightened at that, the way she offered it without fuss or expectation. I nodded, grateful and a little undone by how mothering it was.
‘I know,’ I said quietly. She nodded again but said nothing further as she picked up the pile of tea towels and pushed them off-screen.
‘How’s the last few weeks of the job going? Aside from the Michael Holland thing?’ she asked, changing the subject and her tone smoothly.
‘Oh, fine,’ I said, happy by the easy change of subject. ‘Busy, but there’s only a few more days and it will be done.’
‘Have you managed to find your replacement?’ Denise pressed, slight concern in her voice as she dropped the last of the folding and placed her hand on a hip to have a rest. She looked as if she’d earned it, still wearing a flush from over-exertion.
‘I think so. Her name’s Alison, she’s great, but I’m having a hard time finding an opportunity for her and Pim to meet.’
‘You’ll manage it, just bring her in when Pim least expects it.’
‘Like just before the show?’ I asked and Denise frowned.
‘Maybe not just then, she might not appreciate it at that moment, but the party after?’
‘I’m going to try and introduce them to each other tomorrow, I think. Pim’s got a lone afternoon tea so it seems like a good moment.’
Denise nodded supportively. ‘You know best. Trust your instincts and you’ll be fine. Not long until you can have a break and then start your new job.’
‘Well, funny you should say that,’ I muttered, rubbing the bridge of my nose as I felt a pressure headache building, when I remembered I had still not opened the email attachments from Elijah at Salient Studios.
‘They’ve sent you work, haven’t they?’ Bob stood next to Denise to chat.
‘How did you know?’ I asked, with a low attempt at laughter.
‘I don’t understand companies that do this, it’s a blatant disregard of your contract.
’ Bob, a retired HR executive for an advertising agency, had strong opinions when it came to recruitment and team management.
I could never tell him anything about my contract with Pim for fear he would travel across the world to collect me and bring me home.
He was protective in that way. ‘You know you’re not obliged in any way to complete that work before your start date. ’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘But it’s good form…’
‘Don’t give me good form, give me mental-health awareness and boundaries.’ He lifted the phone from the table and walked me to the kitchen. Denise followed behind, protesting.
‘What he means is that you shouldn’t burn yourself out before you begin,’ she said, translating her irate husband, who only had my best interests at heart, as Bob rested the phone against the microwave and moved over to the kitchen sink to wash some dishes.
Denise placed her hands on her hips and grumbled.
‘I was speaking to her in there – anyway.’ She sighed and let his sudden move to the kitchen go.
‘Christmas is a time for loved ones, and to have a break. You need to enjoy it, Evie.’
I did need to enjoy it and, more importantly, I wanted to enjoy it. But it hadn’t been easy the past few weeks.
‘That’s what everyone keeps telling me, and I keep telling myself.’
‘Then you know what you’ve got to do, you just need to stick to your guns and do it,’ Denise insisted as Bob muttered ‘yes’ every few words in the background.
‘You’ve got to remember that the first few months of a new job are always stressful, prepared or otherwise.
Throw in a move across the world and it’s doubly stressful.
You need this time, Evelyn. You need to have a break. ’