Chapter 21
21
‘You have to take this to HR, Tills. Dr Rogers is right – it’s bullying.’ Tash’s voice is uncompromising down the phone.
‘I know, but it’s not as simple as that. If I take it to HR then the whole story will come out, and there’s no guarantee they’ll actually do any more than slap him on the wrist, which will only piss him off more. Plus, it’s my word against his.’
‘No, it isn’t, because Dr Rogers clearly saw what was going on.’
‘I don’t know, Tash.’
‘It’s not going to come out, Tills. There are procedures they have to follow. If you don’t report him, what’s to stop him getting even more full-on with the next nurse he decides to turn his attention to? And bullying is more than a slapped-wrist offence. He’ll be suspended while they look into it, and that’s just for starters.’
‘I’ll think about it. I’ve blocked his number, obviously, but he’s left me a charming hand-delivered note.’
‘What did it say?’
‘Oh, the usual stuff you’d expect from Luke. He’s changed his story yet again, of course. Now he’s “regretfully” ending our relationship because he thinks I’m too emotionally intense and he can’t give me what I need.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘Nope. I nearly unblocked his number so I could write back and tell him that finding out your boyfriend was married with a pregnant wife is likely to make any sane woman a bit emotionally intense, but I’m trying to be the bigger person here. Anyway, I’m hoping that this latest incarnation of Luke’s fantasy world means he’s planning to leave me alone going forwards.’
‘We can hope, I guess. Talking of dodgy ethics, how’s the ex-patient you’re so keen on?’
‘I’m not keen on him, Tash. He’s probably older than Dad! He is nice though, and we’ve kind of bonded over the crossword.’
‘How very twentieth century. He has a son, doesn’t he? What’s he like?’
‘Nice, in a reserved kind of way, but there’s nothing happening there.’
‘Why? Has he got three heads or something?’
‘Bloody hell, Tash. The last thing I want is another man right now. I need time to let the dust settle on the Luke disaster. A long time.’
‘Hm.’
‘No, Tash. I mean it.’
‘OK. It’s your life. But you’re going there for lunch, you say? Great opportunity to find out more about him. You might want to pop him on the back burner for later.’
I’m starting to regret telling her about Jonathan and Will.
‘I’m not stringing him along either.’
‘I’m not suggesting you string him along. Just lay some foundations in case you want them later. Otherwise you’ll only have Mum on your case about the sperm bank thing again.’
‘Oh, God. Did she tell you about that?’
‘Of course she did. You know what Mum’s like when she gets an idea in her head. She was on the phone to Dad asking him to find out how much egg freezing costs when I called in there yesterday. Lord knows why she bothered to ring him when she could have just popped next door to talk to him. She couldn’t wait to tell me what a brilliant idea she thought it was.’
I sigh. ‘Great. That’s all I need.’
‘Don’t worry. She’ll find another project soon enough.’
‘Let’s hope so. Talking of babies, how are things going with you in that department?’
There’s a pause. ‘We may have started practising.’
I smile. ‘Have you, indeed? That’s a big step forward.’
‘Yes, well. Isaac’s still being kind of cute, so the idea of another one doesn’t seem quite so horrific. Plus, like you, I’m not getting any younger, so if I want to avoid going down Mum’s egg freezing route, I’d better get on with it.’
‘Oh, the romance,’ I laugh. ‘I bet Greg can’t get enough of it.’
‘Greg’s quite happy,’ she says archly, before giggling herself. ‘To be honest, baby sex isn’t very romantic, but I’m not sure he’s that bothered. I bought some lube so we could shortcut to the main event, which he seems to like.’
‘Hm. Doesn’t that affect your chances of getting pregnant though?’
‘Relax, nurse. I bought a fertility-friendly one. I do know a little bit about these things, you know. Anyway, sometimes the window for sex is surprisingly short, so we need all the help we can get. Isaac may be cute, but he’s no respecter of boundaries.’
‘I could take him out for the day one weekend if you like,’ I say impulsively. ‘Give you and Greg some “me” time.’
I can practically hear her brain whirring on the other end of the call.
‘Really? But you’ve never taken him out before. What would you do?’
‘There’s that soft-play centre in Tonbridge. We could get McDonald’s afterwards and then maybe go to a park or something.’
‘I dunno, Tills. What if you lost him or he hurt himself?’
‘I’m not going to lose him, and if anything went wrong, he’d be in the hands of a trained A&E nurse. It’s about time we got to know each other a bit better, don’t you think?’
‘It’s certainly a kind offer,’ she says dubiously. ‘Let me talk to Greg.’
‘Wow. Don’t be too enthusiastic, will you? I thought you’d bite my hand off.’
‘I will, I promise. I just need time to get used to the idea of my sister as babysitter. Let me consult the ovulation charts and get back to you. If Greg and I are going to get a whole day together, I want to make sure it’s the right one.’
* * *
‘Have some more crumble, Tilly,’ Jonathan urges, pushing the bowl towards me.
‘I couldn’t eat another thing. That was absolutely delicious though,’ I tell him, trying not to slump back in my chair.
‘I told you he does a mean roast,’ Will says with a grin.
He’s not wrong. Although I’m sure Mike could pick a few technical holes in Jonathan’s cooking, there’s no doubting the love that went into it. I don’t think I’m going to be able to move for hours, I’ve eaten so much.
‘It’s so nice to have people to cook for again,’ Jonathan sighs happily. ‘A roast doesn’t really work for one person. I mean, you can use the leftover meat in stews and curries, but making roast potatoes for one is just depressing. I did try the shop-bought ones for a bit, but they’re not a patch on the real thing and I could practically feel Geraldine’s disapproval.’
‘She did have strong views about food,’ Will agrees. ‘To be fair, she had strong views about a lot of things.’
‘There isn’t a day goes by that I don’t miss her.’
‘And that’s normal, Dad. But you know she’d want you to live your life too.’
‘I do, but it’s hard sometimes. Anyway, are you young things OK to clear up? I feel an afternoon nap calling me.’
‘Absolutely. You go and lie down. I’ll bring you a cup of tea later.’
‘Thank you, Jonathan,’ I add. ‘That really was delicious. A proper treat.’
‘Ah, you’re more than welcome, Tilly. Shall we have pork next time? Risk our teeth on the crackling?’
‘You’re inducted into the Sunday lunch club now,’ Will tells me with a smile as Jonathan heads for the staircase. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’
‘I think my waistline might mind,’ I say with a laugh. ‘He’s definitely a feeder, your dad.’
‘Mum was too. Food was how she showed her love. Odd that he’s decided he needs a lie-down though. Do you think he’s all right?’
‘He looks fine. I expect doing a big lunch like this took it out of him more than he’d realised.’
Will looks sceptical. ‘Either that or he’s up to something. It had better not be the latter. Right, let’s get this lot cleared up because two can play at the afternoon nap game. If Dad’s going to have a kip, there’s something I want to do.’
Given the amount of food that appeared on the table, I was expecting the kitchen to be carnage, but Jonathan’s obviously a tidy cook as, apart from the plates and serving dishes, everything is already clean. Most of what’s left gets stacked in the dishwasher, and then Will starts hunting through the bunches of keys that are hanging neatly on hooks inside one of the cupboards.
‘He’s been out to the workshop,’ he tells me as he unhooks one on a red label. ‘I want to see what he’s been up to. Coming?’
‘Umm, sure.’
‘I’m not supposed to go out there unsupervised. Old rule from when I was little, so we have to be discreet,’ he explains as he quietly unlocks and opens the back door. ‘He was terrified that I’d fiddle with something and hurt myself.’
It’s raining as we step out on to the paving slabs leading to the shed, and we’ve barely taken a couple of steps before my trainers lose their grip on the slippery stones. Before I’ve even had a chance to register that I’m off balance, Will has grabbed my hand to steady me.
‘Sorry, I didn’t think. These stones are lethal in the wet, aren’t they? I’ll have to find a way to say something to Dad about them without him knowing I’ve been out here. The last thing we need is for him to fall and break something,’ he says. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, fine. I should have been looking where I was going more carefully.’
Will continues to hold my hand as we make our way across to the workshop. The sensation is unfamiliar and it takes me a moment to realise that’s because Luke never held my hand. At the time, I thought it was just one of his quirks, but now I realise he was simply scared that someone might see us and report it to Cindy. I make a conscious effort to push the thought out of my head and focus on being in the moment. I’m enjoying the warmth of Will’s hand around mine as he guides me down the path and I’m almost a little disappointed when we reach the workshop and he lets go to deal with the padlock.
I’m not sure what I was expecting as we step inside: something a bit gloomy with tools and stuff all over the place, like the pictures in storybooks when I was growing up, I suppose. This is nothing like that. It’s a bright and airy space, with clear workbenches and tools hanging neatly on the walls. There’s a large drill in one corner, a power saw of some description and another machine I don’t recognise taking up a considerable amount of space by the far wall.
‘That’s his lathe,’ Will explains, evidently clocking my look of puzzlement. ‘Pride and joy. Well, apart from the helicopter, of course.’
‘I’m sorry. Did you say helicopter?’
Will points to an enormous object covered with a blanket. ‘Most of what you see in here is dedicated to the maintenance of that,’ he tells me.
‘When you said your dad was into model aircraft, I kind of had something a bit smaller in mind. That’s huge!’
‘And I’m not going to dare to move the blanket to show it to you, because he’ll know. The good thing is that he’s had a clean-up in here, which means he’s starting to re-engage. If anything is going to help him, it’s this. You know how some women describe themselves as golf widows? Mum used to say she was a helicopter widow in the flying season, because he’d be out every weekend with it when the weather was good enough.’
‘Hang on. Are you telling me that the monster under that blanket actually flies?’
‘Oh, yes. It’s remote-controlled. He belongs to a club and they get together to fly whenever they can, hence Mum’s “widow” complaints. She wasn’t, of course, because she’d always pack a thermos and some sandwiches and go with him. But, when she got too ill to do that, he stopped going and it all got a bit sad in here. He’d come out here sometimes, but I’d watch him from the house and he’d just be sitting at the bench, staring into space. The fact that he’s tidied up is a good sign, I reckon. Having said that, it means that he’ll definitely spot if anything’s out of place so we’d better go before one of us accidentally disturbs something and risks detection.’
Once again he takes my hand to lead me back down the path to the house, only releasing it once I’m safely indoors.
‘Will,’ I ask. ‘Tell me it’s none of my business if you like, but how long can you stay with him, realistically? He’s very reliant on you at the moment, and I worry he’ll nosedive again when you leave.’
‘I’ve thought about that a lot too,’ he replies. ‘I haven’t said anything to him, because he’ll only give me a lecture about living my own life and all that stuff, but I’ve decided to come back permanently. Even if I’m not in this house with him, I want to be nearby. It’s not just because of him, before you say anything. I’ve been struggling a bit too, and I like to think we’ve been able to support each other. It’s good to hear him talking about Mum and coming out of his shell a bit. You’ve really helped there too, but you can’t be there for him forever.’
‘What about your work though?’
‘Not a problem. I can do that just as easily from here. Getting to the office will be more of a faff, but I’ll only have to do that a couple of times a month, hopefully. Maybe more when we’re starting a new project, but it’ll be entirely manageable.’
‘What do you do, besides the art, I mean?’
He smiles. ‘The art is just a hobby, although I do sell the odd piece from time to time. My main job title is technical content creator, which sounds much grander than it is. Basically, we write the instructions for household appliances and stuff like that. We work with a number of companies and we’re currently trying to land a large car manufacturer, which will be exciting.’
‘Wow. I have to confess I tend to let Mike deal with stuff like that, and I’m pretty sure he never reads the manuals. Typical man. Try to figure it out first, and only consult the book when you’re stuck.’
‘Thank goodness for the sensible women then, otherwise I’d be out of work! Cup of tea?’
‘I’d love one, thanks.’
As I watch him fill the kettle and sling teabags into mugs, I’m surprised by how pleased I am to know that he’s going to be around for the foreseeable future. There’s a gentleness and kindness to him, along with his evident love for his father, which is very attractive. Not that I’m in the market for attraction, of course. It’s just nice to be around him.