Chapter 25 #2
He knew enough faces now to nod and smile at a few people, and afterwards at coffee time chatted with Jay and his wife, Rosie, while Mary was fitting three other Santas, and Gramps was having an unnervingly rational conversation with an older woman who had once upon a time worked in the same office as him.
‘So, what’s the deal with you and Mary?’ Rosie asked. ‘Whenever we drop hints, she changes the subject.’
‘Drop hints?’ Jay queried. ‘Your hints are about as subtle as Cheris and Carolyn with a stack of concert tickets.’
‘Okay, whenever we happen to politely enquire whether her and this one have graduated from the friend zone, she pretends to not know what we’re talking about and changes the subject.’
Beckett took a gulp of coffee. It was still hot, and he had to cough several times before he could reply.
‘No graduation. We’re just friends.’ At least he could blame sounding strained on the coffee.
‘Maybe stop embarrassing him by asking about it, babe,’ Jay added. ‘Or her.’
‘No offence, babe , but you can’t censor coffee-mum conversation. We don’t do shame or embarrassment. It’s a safe place to share.’
‘Isn’t it also a safe place for people who’ve made it clear they don’t want to share on a particular topic?’
‘There’s nothing to share about,’ Beckett interjected, while very much ‘doing embarrassment’.
‘Why not?’ Rosie said, turning to him, so matter-of-factly that for a second he was tempted to be honest.
Because she’s clearly not interested. Because something big and awful happened, and she’s not ready to talk about it. Because when the registrar assumed I was somehow involved, she sobbed her heart out.
Because she’s the first proper friend I’ve had in six years. The best friend I’ve ever had, and I won’t risk losing that.
‘It… just isn’t like that.’
‘Puh-lease. We’ve all seen how you look at her.’
‘Then you’ll have noticed how she looks at me.’
‘Yeah,’ Rosie conceded with a nose wrinkle. ‘She’s kind of swamped with the whole new-mum thing, I suppose.’
She gave Beckett a firm poke in the chest with a pointy nail. ‘Keep your eyes open, though. When she’s ready for more, you want to be straight in there. Don’t let some hot single dad or chatty charmer swoop in and gazump you.’
‘Babe!’ Jay took her hand before she could poke Beckett again. ‘Back out. Reverse. Shut it down. Remember, we’ve talked about where the line is between friendly concern and interfering? And, gazumped? Mary is not a house.’
‘I’m not a what?’ Mary appeared next to Beckett, causing his face to flush horribly while Rosie grinned. ‘A house? Sounds rude.’ She glanced down at her wide-legged tweedy trousers and slim-knit jumper with a Christmassy pattern, showing that there was nothing house-like about her.
‘I said you weren’t a house,’ Jay said, seeming as flustered as Beckett felt. ‘It was nothing to do with your appearance. Rosie had been talking about…’ He trailed off, glancing at Beckett in desperation.
‘I’d been grilling Beckett about asking you out,’ Rosie readily confessed. ‘He quite rightly told me to butt out of none-of-my-business.’
‘I never said that.’ Beckett was starting to regret getting out of bed that morning. He didn’t remember socialising as being this fraught.
Mary, to his astonishment, had dropped her gaze to the floor, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing. By the time her eyes darted up again, her face was scarlet.
‘Interesting,’ Rosie murmured.
‘Okay, we’re going to find Amber. Great to see you again, Beckett. Nice to meet you, Mary.’ Jay, still holding his wife’s hand, led her away.
The second they were gone, Beckett leaned in as close as he dared.
‘I’m sorry, that was totally inappropriate. I shut her down straight away; told her we were nothing more than friends.’
Mary sucked in a deep breath and straightened up. His heart stuttered in his chest as her eyes met his, more blue than grey today, reflecting the colour of her jumper. ‘Aren’t we?’
It was said so softly, he had to read her lips.
Before Beckett could answer, which could have been anything from a microsecond to minutes, as he stood, dumbstruck, his brain in suspended animation, someone tapped him on the shoulder.
‘I’m going out for lunch.’
Beckett jerked to attention.
‘What?’
Gramps rocked back smugly on his heels, then almost toppled over before Beckett grabbed and steadied him.
‘You can pick me up around three.’
Beckett shook his head, muttering, ‘I have no idea what’s happening any more.’
‘Sandra and her friend Pauline have invited me to their monthly silver singles lunch. That’s what’s happening.’
‘Who are Sandra and Pauline? Where is this lunch and, more to the point – what on earth, Gramps? A singles lunch ?’
Gramps gave an airy shrug, as if he went to silver singles lunches all the time.
‘Point them out to me.’
Gramps nodded to a suitably grey-haired woman chatting in a small group. Beckett wasted no time in striding over.
‘Sandra?’
‘Yes?’
‘My grandfather tells me you’ve invited him for lunch?’
‘Yes, isn’t that lovely? We’d be delighted to have him join us.’
‘Thank you for your kind invitation. Unfortunately, he won’t be able to go.’
‘Oh?’ Sandra narrowed her eyes, behind fuchsia-rimmed bifocals. ‘Marvin mentioned you might be snippy about it.’
‘Me, snippy?’ Beckett spluttered.
‘He explained how you’d become somewhat co-dependent, following a minor stroke several years ago. With all due respect, Mr Bywater?—’
‘Dr Bywater.’ Ugh. That again.
‘Do you think a doctor deserves more respect than any other human being?’ she quickly replied, with a saccharine smile that made him want to argue back, even though he agreed with her completely.
‘Does that automatically mean you know best? Is it time you allowed Marvin to reclaim some life of his own? One that isn’t solely reliant on you and your “professional opinion”? A little distance is healthy.’
‘We only came here today because he wanted to.’ Beckett’s nerves crackled with irritation. ‘He was pretty reliant on me when I found him collapsed on the patio, in the middle of the night, half frozen to death.’
‘Ah.’ Sandra nodded sagely. ‘May I suggest you don’t allow your unresolved emotions about that to overrule your grandfather’s desire to build alternative support networks?
You can’t protect him from every eventuality, Beckett.
We’re all going to die. He has the right to live freely until that happens. ’
‘Wow.’ This morning really couldn’t get any more surreal.
‘Firstly, it wasn’t a minor stroke. Gramps was in hospital and rehab for months.
Six years later, he still has multiple complex needs requiring constant care.
Given that you apparently now have a clearer picture of his life than I do, can I assume you’re aware of the foods he can’t eat, that he needs help cutting up meat and can’t carry a plate of food safely?
Oh, and I’m sure he’s checked whether this lunch is somewhere with a downstairs toilet, one with a handrail, because otherwise someone from his alternative support network will have about twenty seconds’ warning to lug him upstairs before incontinence strikes.
You’ll know about the lifesaving medications he needs, some before and others an hour after eating.
He calls them his “control pills”, so he’ll refuse them, given much choice. ’
Sandra blinked a few times behind her glasses. ‘We have one or two other infirm attendees…’
‘Perfect. I’ll pick him up at three. You can message me the address, because Marvin doesn’t have a phone.
’ Beckett gripped the back of his head. He really needed to calm down.
Sandra wasn’t wrong about last night having affected him.
He sounded like an arrogant prig. ‘Or shall we have a respectful, realistic conversation about how this would work?’
Fifteen minutes later, Bill had merrily agreed to tag along to the lunch as a one-off, on the basis none of the singles tried to flirt with him.
‘And if it all gets too bawdy, I’m breaking us out of there,’ he said to Gramps, tapping the side of his nose. ‘I know what these lot are like. They’ll be sneaking a peck on the cheek goodbye if we’re not on our toes.’
There it was. Gramps was off again, in complete contrast to everything he’d insisted, refused and been stubborn about for six years.
And Beckett and Mary still hadn’t made it past ‘aren’t we?’ more than friends. With Bob whinging the whole way back to Mary’s house in the car, there was no chance to answer. Even if Beckett did have the courage to reveal a hint of how he felt about that question.
When Mary declined his offer of lunch, or help with more costumes, with no explanation and a distressingly polite smile as he dropped her off, he accepted that Gramps’ interruption was probably a blessing.