Chapter 28
HAL
Louis clambers into Betty and I’m a little embarrassed. She’s messy from the trip, and there’s the definite smell of food lingering in the upholstery, made worse by the heat. ‘She’ll clear out in a minute once we drive,’ I tell him.
‘Sure, of course,’ he says and I wonder if we’ve now moved into the era where he feels he has to humour me.
Praying that Betty’s cooling system won’t get overloaded during the short drive, I signal and turn onto the road, just behind one of the many Citroens that seem to be defying the ageing process and rattling on against the odds.
‘Your van seems quite modern compared to that,’ Louis quips, nodding to the powder-blue and rust-coloured 2CV coughing out black smoke in front of us.
I laugh. ‘You know, I could get another car if I wanted,’ I say. ‘I just like Betty.’
‘I know, but she’s hardly a babe magnet, is she, Dad? I mean, do you ever think it might be the reason why you haven’t—’
‘Haven’t what?’
He shrugs. ‘I dunno. Settled down, I guess.’
I smile. ‘I don’t have a problem in that area. I just… I suppose I haven’t met “the one” yet.’
He nods, once, and we drive in silence to the Chateau de la Chèvre d’Or, a restaurant and bar recommended by Vivian. In all honesty, it’s not how I pictured our stag night, back when Louis first mentioned the engagement. I’d thought I’d host it in Cambridge, staggering from bar to bar.
But time is short, and a meal together as father and son will just have to do.
When I’ve managed to squeeze Betty into a tiny parking space, we then follow the signs to an archway cut into a stone building that must be centuries old.
In silence, we make our way up the winding stone stairs and finally reach a curved door which grants us access to the hotel restaurant.
A waiter dressed in a blue suit shows us to a table on the terrace and it’s then that I realise exactly what Vivian had been on about.
Beneath the terrace, the ground tumbles away and we’re treated to a stunning view of the ocean.
There are trees and stone walls and small buildings below, but in so many ways it feels as though we’re on a ship, taking off on a voyage.
‘Bit posh,’ Louis mutters to me as the waiter pulls out my chair for me to sit.
‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘But it’s an important day.’
Louis looks at me. He’s still boyish in his features, his clear, smooth skin; the prickle of stubble around his jaw seems out of place.
My heart swells as I look at him and, once we’ve ordered drinks, I decide to broach the subject.
It’s not going to be easy, but I’m his father.
If it’s not my job to at least ask, then whose is it?
‘You know there’ll be another wedding later?’ he says before I can say anything.
‘The registry office?’
‘Yeah,’ he shrugs. ‘I thought maybe we could have more of a… you know, traditional stag do then. If you don’t think that’s greedy?’
‘Not at all!’ I smile, feeling relieved that he still wants to include me in his plans.
Then, ‘How you feeling about it all?’ I ask him.
He shrugs, grins. ‘OK, I guess.’
‘No cold feet?’
Louis’s expression hardens momentarily. ‘Is that something you should even be asking me?’
I shrug. ‘Just seeing how you are?’
He pushes his glass back and forth a little, watching the liquid ripple. ‘I suppose everyone gets them a bit,’ he says. ‘Cold feet, and that. But it’s only a wedding.’
‘Only a wedding! Louis, this is a lifetime commitment!’
‘I know.’ He colours. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… the baby. I mean that’s a bigger commitment, right? That’s what will really tie us together for life.’
I nod. The kid is so much wiser than I am.
The menu’s a bit odd – far more haute cuisine than I’m used to, so I order the tuna as a starter, the only word I recognise. Louis follows suit.
‘Christ, Dad, did you see the prices?’ he blurts out once the waiter disappears.
‘It’s OK, it’s on me.’
‘I know, but still. Summer could have bought another wedding dress for the price of this.’
I feel my hands get hot. ‘Louis, do you need some money? For the wedding. I hadn’t thought…’
He shakes his head. ‘We’re OK. Gran gave us some.’
‘Still.’ I want to kick myself. All I’ve thought about since Louis’s engagement and then the call about the earlier-than-expected wedding is how it might affect me.
The journey I’ll have to make, the fact that I’m going to be someone’s father-in-law.
Then the news of the baby, my impending grandfather status.
Why hadn’t I thought to ask Louis if he needed support, financial or otherwise?
‘What’s wrong?’ Louis asks.
Before I can say anything, the waiter arrives and delivers two stark white plates with a reddish pile of fish and sauce, and a couple of things I don’t recognise in the centre.
We take it in for a moment, then our eyes meet in mutual humour.
We’ve always laughed at gourmet food, preferring burger restaurants or big eateries for our meetups.
‘Sorry,’ I say.
We both stick our forks in and actually, the food is divine. I find myself closing my eyes, savouring the salty tang, the sweet, fruity notes. There are a hundred flavours packed into that one forkful.
‘Oh, so this is what food is supposed to taste like!’ Louis quips.
We grin at each other, feeling a little silly in this lavish restaurant. The clientele around us have dressed up to the nines; we’re a little more casual in our chinos and jeans.
‘About what?’ Louis says, and I’m momentarily confused. ‘You said “sorry” before.’
‘Oh. Yeah.’ I set my fork down. ‘You know, I always thought I was an OK dad. An OK person…’
He opens his mouth to protest but I hold up a finger, I’m not finished.
‘But I’ve realised more and more recently that I’m not…’ I circle my hand a little, trying to encourage the word to come. ‘I’m shit at reading between the lines.’
‘Not sure I get you.’
‘Louis, you could ask me for anything and if it was in my power to give it I would. But I’m not very good at working out what people need, seeing what needs to be done. And I think maybe it comes across that I’m pretty shit or I don’t care. But it’s not true, you know that, right?’
He nods, forking another bit of tuna into his mouth. ‘I mean, yeah. I know you care, Dad. Don’t worry.’
‘But I want to get better at it,’ I say, realising how lame that sounds.
‘Oh yeah?’ Louis raises an eyebrow. ‘Going to sign up to an evening class in anticipating people’s needs?’
‘No, but I thought I might…’ My face feels suddenly hot. ‘Read a book about it or something.’
Louis’s laughter is infectious. He lets out a guffaw that has other tables looking our way, both annoyed and incredulous. And I find my shoulders shaking too, even though I’m not 100 per cent sure what we’re laughing about. He slaps the table. ‘Oh, Dad,’ he says. ‘You’re priceless.’
The waiter comes over and clears our plates, and I resist the urge to grab mine back and scrape the remaining oil and sauce from the porcelain. He fills our wine glasses again and I have to put my hand over mine. ‘I’m driving.’
He nods gravely and disappears.
Sitting in this posh restaurant, laughing with my son, feels a little like being at the back of the class at school. We’re the naughty ones, in cahoots together while everyone else conforms to the teacher’s expectations.
‘Louis,’ I say, ‘can you do me a favour?’
‘Sure.’
The waiter comes with two more white plates, this time with what appears to be a lump of meat in some kind of sauce. We thank him, wait for him to go.
‘I’m going to really try to do things better. Can you promise to tell me if I’m getting something wrong, or I’ve missed something important – at least at first, while I’m… learning? Because I don’t want to be that guy.’
‘What guy?’
‘The guy who misses opportunities because he’s too crap at recognising them. Or lets people down because he doesn’t think enough.’
Louis gives a little half smile. ‘You’ll never be that guy, Dad.’
‘Thanks.’ I look at my son, at his young, open face. ‘Listen, Louis, when we’re back, if you want me to help you find somewhere bigger to live…’
‘We’re fine for now.’
‘Sure. But when the baby comes. I mean, things are expensive. I could help out with the rent, maybe buy you the things you need.’
‘You’d do that?’
His surprise at my offer is almost heartbreaking. ‘Of course. I’m your dad, Louis.’
His cheeks flush slightly and I wonder whether it’s relief, surprise, or whether he’s touched. All of these things just serve to indicate that he didn’t expect much from me.
‘Thanks,’ he says.
I squeeze his hand to let him know I’m serious. ‘Maybe I haven’t been that great a dad…’
Louis opens his mouth, presumably to contradict me, but I raise a finger again.
‘Wait. It’s true. I love you, but it’s true. I’ve been… selfish, I suppose. But believe me, things are going to change.’
Our eyes lock for a second then he nods. ‘OK. Well, thanks.’
We turn our attention to our food.
I cut the meat and put a sliver into my mouth. It’s so tender it almost melts, the flavour unlike one I’ve ever tasted before. ‘Oh my God, this is gorgeous!’
Louis looks at his own plate. ‘Not sure.’
‘Go on, it’s delicious. Not sure what it is but…’
‘It’s tongue, Dad.’
‘Tongue?’ Why is it that I can eat almost every part of an animal, as long as it’s one I’m used to? Ribs? Yes please. Leg? Don’t mind if I do. Rump? Give me seconds. But the thought of an animal’s tongue in my mouth, even cooked by one of the country’s finest chefs, makes my stomach heave.
‘Aren’t you going to finish it?’ Louis asks as I push my plate aside.
‘You know what,’ I say. ‘I’m pretty sure I saw a pizza van on our way in.’
Our eyes meet, locked in conspiratorial irreverence. As one, we push out our chairs, and I go to the counter to pay for our unfinished meal.
‘Was something the matter?’ the server asks as I hand over my credit card.
‘No, just something came up.’
‘I’m proud of you,’ I say as we sit parked facing the ocean, holding enormous, cheese-laden slices of pizza.
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah, of course! I always have been. But now, even more, I guess. For what you’re doing now.’
‘Eating margherita pizzas?’
‘Getting married. I’ve never been brave enough.’
‘Ah, there’s still time… Granddad!’
‘Ha. Thanks.’
‘Did you ever think about it, I dunno, with Mum or whatever?’
‘Yeah. ’Course I did. But I was so young, you know. You still have this belief that adults know best. Or at least that some of them do. And if they tell you that you’re too young, that you’ll regret it, you believe them. So I suppose I never brought it up with her.’
He nods. ‘Do you think you would have regretted it?’
I think of Sarah, the girl she was, the woman she’s become. ‘Probably not.’
He turns to me. ‘You know, I’d never have said this before, but since you’ve told me how emotionally stunted you are…’
‘Careful,’ I say, and he grins.
‘I have to ask, do you ever think about her now? Like that?’
I open my mouth to say no. Over the two decades of co-parenting, Sarah has sometimes felt like a thorn in my side.
Someone who seems to criticise me and look down on me.
But maybe I was wrong. Maybe spending time with her as we have has shown me that she hasn’t changed as much as I thought.
‘Sometimes. But it doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure your mum’s seeing someone.
She’s happy… And she deserves to be happy. So…’
‘Oh, I didn’t realise.’
‘Yeah.’ I take a bite of pizza and chew thoughtfully. ‘But it’s all good.’
We’re silent for a moment. Outside, people pass, chattering away. A boat moves along the horizon, leaving a trail of white foam in its wake.
‘Well, never mind. I’m sure you’ll meet the right woman eventually,’ Louis tells me.
I look at him and he’s got a glint of fun in his eye. ‘Is that right, Dad?’ I say.
We descend into laughter again, as the breeze from the ocean buffets the van and the pizza drips cheese down our clean shirts.
I look at Louis again, his head turned towards the window as he chews, and feel an enormous swell of pride at my grown-up son; how capable he is, how completely amazing.
And in that moment, I realise that had I planned our perfect night together down to the last tiny detail, I’d never have come up with something as brilliant as tonight has been.