Chapter Six
Dave glanced up and down the street, but there was no sign of Jeff.
Plenty of shoppers, however, peering into windows decorated with red and gold tinsel, giant sparkly snowflakes, and fake holly with bright red berries.
On the corner, a Salvation Army band played In The Bleak Midwinter’, and passers-by dropped money into their collection pot.
With all the Christmas lights twinkling, Marylebone High Street was anything but bleak.
If he’d changed his mind, he’d have let me know. Dave might not have known Jeff all that long, but he was sure Jeff was polite enough to call.
“There he is.” Chris pointed to a figure crossing the street.
Chris had been buzzing all morning. It had taken Dave all his time to get him to sit still long enough to eat his breakfast. “Okay. Don’t fire a lot of questions at him.
Let the man breathe.” He was having enough difficulty getting his heart to calm down.
What is it about Jeff that gets me so flustered?
Stupid question. The first man to walk into his life—and his house—since Matt had died was bound to cause change in one way or another. And then there was Chris’s reaction to Jeff. That boy is a born matchmaker. His ploys, however transparent, had made Dave smile.
“I’m not late, am I?” Jeff asked as he drew closer to them.
“Not at all. I’ve pre-booked the tickets, so we can go straight in.” He took a breath, and caught a whiff of Jeff’s cologne. Damn. He smells good. He looked good too, in jeans and a cream sweater, a long, thick, black coat open at the front, and that red scarf around his neck.
Jeff gazed at the building. “Isn’t it beautiful? Eighteen-hundreds, I’d guess. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve walked past this place, and this is my first visit.” He glanced at Chris. “Who do you want to see in there?”
Dave groaned. “He has a list.”
Chris nodded eagerly. “Anyone from Marvel, Star Wars…”
“Then let’s get in there.” Dave led the way into the foyer, and showed their tickets on his phone.
The sweeping double staircase was impressive, and they followed the line of people already making their way up.
They had to wait for the lift to take them to the exhibit, and Chris was already bouncing.
Jeff laughed. “I think you need to calm down before you explode.” He caught Dave’s gaze. “And you need to tell me what I owe you for the ticket.”
“This is on me.”
Jeff smiled. “Thank you. In that case, lunch is on me. No arguments.”
“None from me, but I think I’m getting the better deal.
” They got into the red-and-gold lift, and when the doors slid open, a view of London from high up confronted them, split over large screens.
Above their heads was a green forest of foliage, sprinkled with tiny warm white lights.
On the screens, a helicopter flew right at them, and Chris ducked.
Jeff laughed. “I know. It feels so real.”
“No rushing ahead, okay?” Dave warned Chris. “Stay where we can see you. It could get really busy in here.”
“Okay, Dad.”
They followed the signs, making their way along a corridor lined with strings of white lights covering the walls and ceiling, and emerged onto a red catwalk, red curtains draped on all sides. Ahead of them on a screen, paparazzi clicked and flashed.
“Hey, look, I’m famous,” Chris said with a grin.
At the end of the catwalk, they emerged into a large space, and it became obvious this was the section for Hollywood stars and A-list celebrities.
“He might not know who some of these are,” Jeff murmured as he paused beside Morgan Freeman.
“You’d be surprised.” Chris had gone over to where Harry and Meghan stood smiling, and Dave laughed. “He’ll know those two.”
Jeff’s breathing hitched. “Excuse me, but I have to sit down.”
“Are you okay?”
Jeff’s eyes sparkled. “I will be, once I’ve sat on that couch over there—next to George Clooney.”
Dave laughed as Jeff perched on the leather couch, staring at George and batting his eyelashes. “I see.” He pointed across the space to where Brad Pitt stood. “Now he’s more to my taste.”
“Dad.” Chris pointed to the figure of Johnny Depp. “Isn’t that Captain Jack Sparrow?”
“Yes, it is.” Dave didn’t follow a lot of celebrities, and there were a few faces he didn’t recognize, but Chris seemed to be having a great time, dashing from figure to figure, while Jeff took pictures on his phone.
“Ooh, aliens.” Chris grabbed Dave’s hand and tugged him along a corridor into a far creepier section that looked as if they were on a spaceship.
Here and there were screens resembling windows, and frantic people beat their fists on the glass, yelling for them not to go any farther.
At the end of the corridor, they found a figure hunched forward at the controls, his back exploded outward.
“Is he going to be okay with this?” Jeff asked.
Dave chuckled. “He’s seen Alien three times, usually from behind a cushion.” The lights dimmed as they strolled along, and suddenly the alien appeared out of nowhere, illuminated by strobe lights. Chris shrieked, jumping back and falling against Jeff.
Jeff snuck a glance at Dave. “You let him watch Alien?”
Dave snorted. “Not me—his aunt Janine. She loves that film. I think she’s got a thing for Sigourney Weaver.”
The Kong exhibit was the huge head of the beast, with eyes that moved and blinked. Dave had to admit, the waxworks were amazing. Then Chris let out a whoop, and charged over to the corner where ET sat wrapped in a blanket in the front basket of a bike.
“Dad. Take a picture of me,” Chris pleaded. He climbed onto the stationary bike and grinned. Dave took a few photos.
“One of my favourite films,” Jeff said as he stood beside him.
“Mine too. Maybe that’s why Chris loves it. I can’t tell you how many times he’s seen it.”
The next space was given over to James Bond, and Dave had to laugh when Jeff posed next to Daniel Craig, hands clasped as if he was holding a gun, eyebrows quirked. “Stay there and let me take a picture.” Dave filled the frame with the two men, and clicked. “Very cool.”
“Dad. It’s Shrek!” Chris yelled from around the corner.
He smiled. “This was definitely a good idea.” He hadn’t seen Chris this animated for a long time.
There were displays that meant nothing to Chris, such as the Bates Motel, and the bookshop from Notting Hill, but they made him smile. The sports section left him cold, except for the figure of Usain Bolt in his trademark pose. The following section was the royals, however.
“Who’s that, Chris?” he asked, pointed to a stout figure.
Chris rolled his eyes. “Henry the Eighth. And that’s Queen Elizabeth. She was his daughter.”
Jeff smiled. “I’m guessing he likes history.”
“His favourite subject.” He pointed to a seated figure. “And who’s that?”
“Shakespeare.” Chris hurried over to where the queen stood, with Charles and Camilla on one side, and Kate and William on the other. “Dad, you have to take my picture with the queen. It looks just like her.” He posed in front of the queen, and both Dave and Jeff took photos.
The rest of the morning passed in gazing at the figures, reading the signs that gave out information, and going on a ride that took them through London through the ages.
The highlight of the tour had to be the Marvel Hall of Heroes.
Chris squealed when he saw the enormous figure of the Hulk, apparently ripping his way up through the floor tiles, his giant fingers reaching between the wire railings of the upper walkway.
He towered above them, and Chris posed next to him for photos, his face contorted in a growl.
Then he posed with Spiderman, who was crouched on the floor—except it was a ceiling, and everything else was upside-down.
Dave spotted the final section and grinned. “He’s going to love this.” He called out Chris’s name, and when he was sure he had his attention, he said, “Want to sit with Han Solo in the bar in Mos Eisley?”
Chris’s eyes were huge. “Where?”
Dave pointed along a walkway to where Han sat, one foot on the table.
Chris ran up to the exhibit, and sat facing him, leaning back and attempting to appear as nonchalant as Harrison Ford.
Dave took photo after photo of Chris with Chewbacca, Yoda, Darth Vader, and a hilarious one where he tried to look as if he was strangling Jabba the Hutt.
As they reached the exit, Dave glanced at his watch. “Nice timing. We have to go now, if we’re going to eat before your aunt Janine goes on.” They walked through the exit and out onto the street. “Chris, don’t run ahead, okay? And don’t cross any roads. Wait for me.”
“Okay, Dad.”
“How far is the pub from here?” Jeff asked.
“Less than ten minutes’ walk, around the outskirts of Regent’s Park.” He peered at Jeff. “Well? Did you like it?”
Jeff beamed. “I loved it.” He lowered his voice. “I think the best part wasn’t the figures—it was seeing Chris’s reactions. He had a great time.”
“Yeah, he did.” Seeing Chris smile and hearing his laughter and excited chatter lightened Dave’s heart. It had been too long since he’d seen his little boy so happy.
But I’m happy too. Something else that had been lacking for quite a while. Not all of it was down to Chris—having Jeff’s company was a pretty big part too.
I’d got into a rut, hadn’t I? His life had boiled down to nothing but work and Chris, with visits to and from Janine here and there. It had taken Jeff’s welcome intrusion to force him to step out of his comfort zone.
I have a new friend. Jeff was charming, funny, and intelligent.
Dave was honest enough to admit his new friend was also sexy.
Matt would be so proud.
Jeff was feeling very mellow. He’d eaten a cheese and ham panini, and was halfway through a pint of really good beer. The patio heater was doing a valiant job combatting the sharp nip in the air. Plus, the music spilling out of the door was pretty good too.