Chapter 23
Noah
“Ihave some news,” I declared at the dinner table, where my father was grimacing at something on his phone and my mother was fussing over a shop-bought lasagna.
“Tell us, darling. Don’t keep us in the dark. This sounds exciting.”
Mother, serving me up a plate of brownish slop.
I wasn’t being ungrateful, but suddenly I longed for Mrs Cook’s plastic boxes with piping hot stew and dumplings. Anything to bring me back. To him, to Scotland, where the air was cool and fresh and I didn’t feel so utterly bewildered.
“I’m having a midlife crisis,” I declared, as my dad laughed out loud.
“Son, we’ve all been there. Why do you think I took up golf?”
“I’m not taking up golf.”
“Good for you. It costs an arm and a leg, and I’m still no good at it.”
“You just go for the free beer at the clubhouse. I know you,” my mother teased.
“It’s social interaction!”
“Dad, calm down. Now listen.”
“We’re listening.” Mother was doing nothing of the sort, running back to the fridge to get a bottle of wine out.
“You didn’t chill the red, did you?”
“I always do. I like it cold.”
“Mum,” I growled.
“I’ll just have beer.” Dad sighed. “Gill, grab one for Noah too, then you can have your ice-cold berry drink to yourself.”
“Can I speak?” I half shouted.
Family life. Was I good at this? I sucked. My family was a mess, but it was our mess and…
Fuck.
Could I really do this?
I’d been like this all week, on one side being organised and smart, sorting out a six-month sabbatical with the sceptical practice manager whom I suspected hated my guts.
I was simple and unproblematic, but also?
I pulled things like this. With no warning and no viable excuses.
On the other hand? How the hell did you actually…
get married? Where? When? I’d googled marriage licences and got myself in a pickle at first, but I think… Fox and I had that part sorted now.
“I’m going to get married.”
“Noah,” my mum breathed. “Are you going on Married At First Sight? On TV?”
“No!” I roared. “I’m going to marry Fox!”
“Good for you,” my dad said, pouring beer into a glass. “That’s nice.”
“That’s very fast, darling.” Mum. Overpouring the wine, making me grab at the bottle.
“It is, but it’s right. I’m moving up to Scotland. Six months to start to see if it will work out. I’m confident it will, but we need to have some safeguards in place.”
“You’re moving to Glasgow.” Mum. Trying to compute the facts in her head.
“To Kilmartin. To the school. I can live there with Fox if we’re married. It’s the right thing to do, for now.”
“It’s 2026, darling, nobody needs to be married for anything. And when are you planning this wedding?”
“I don’t know!” I tried to be calm, when on the inside I was having all sorts of panic.
“So, you need me to plan a shotgun wedding, get your house rented out, and how are you getting your things up to Scotland?”
Thank God. On board.
“Please, Mum. I need help. I still need to work and Fox is so busy, and I don’t really know where to start.”
“Johan at the golfclub owns a rental agency. He’ll do the house. I’ll ring him.”
“Thanks,” I breathed. In and out. Family. This was the whole point of that word. Having people help you through the little things when they were just too big to tackle. Making the big things small. The HUGE ones manageable. Like this.
“So. We need a venue. I’m assuming you want this done like…
yesterday? I know you, darling, no patience at all when you have your mind set.
So. We have the Garden Hotel down the road.
Dull, in my opinion. The Greenshaws’ wedding was a disaster.
Scotland, Noah. What does Fox want?” Mum had already picked up a notepad and pen, taking a sip of her wine before making bullet points.
A list. Titled Noah and Fox with a heart.
“He…doesn’t mind. If I can give him options, that would help us.”
“Kilmartin village. Does it have a venue?”
“I don’t know, Mum!”
“Well, leave it with me. Gosh, this is exciting, isn’t it, Derek?”
“Thrilling,” Dad replied, tapping on his phone. “Johan will sort the house; I’ve given him your number. Simple. And Tarek from the club has family in Oban. I’ve asked for recommendations for venues.”
“Fabulous. See? We’ve got it all in hand. How is the lovely Fox?”
“He’s good, Mum. The school is great, he’s really busy, and…”
“We’ll come visit, don’t you worry. You said there’s a hotel? We can book.”
“You should. Fox would like that, if you came to visit.”
“Oh, we will. Derek, are we still free the weekend after next?”
“Mum!”
“Oh shush, we’re pensioners. Let us have fun, and Scotland is lovely in autumn. Did it snow when you were up there?”
“No, it was actually nice and warm. Cool at night.”
“Derek, are you googling the hotel? See if they have a room. We’ll need a rental car. How was the drive up?”
“Should you not ask Fox first?” My dad was the only sensible person in the room. That was obviously clear.
“Nope. He’s our son now, so we can go see him if we want.”
I had to smile when I should perhaps just have banged my head against the table.
“You know how proud of you we are, don’t you?” My dad was…great.
“Noah, we couldn’t be prouder. We love you, we love Fox and whatever mischief the two of you are up to? We’re on board. It will be fine. And if it all goes funny somewhere? Nothing we can’t handle, what do you say, Derek?”
“I think it’s good. No hanging around just for the sake of it. Get married. Have some kids. Be happy. That’s a solid plan, Noah. I agree.”
“There’s more lasagna, darling. Eat up, we have things to discuss. Now. Have you talked about suits?”
I sighed. Then I took my phone out and called Fox because I needed more than my parents’ help here.
It was much later when I was still lounging on the sofa and Dad had fallen asleep, and I really should drive back home. But instead, my mind was churning, thinking I wouldn’t be doing this for much longer. Driving over to my childhood home and hanging out with Mum and Dad. Like this.
“I found a brilliant little Etsy shop for wedding invitations. I know you said not many people, but Aunt Hilda will need an invite; she’ll be most upset otherwise.
And John and Mitzy. Tara lives in Edinburgh; I’m sure she’ll pop down.
I texted Fox about his list of people so we can get a number nailed down. ”
“Thank you, Mum,” I breathed out.
“Oh, don’t mention it. I’m so excited I could burst. But, darling. Can I ask you something?”
Here we went. I was half expecting it.
“Of course.”
“It’s very fast. Very soon. And some of the things that dreadful Thomas said are still playing on my mind.”
“Thomas is an arse.”
“Yes, I’m on board with that, but the way he talked, he made it seem that Fox had somehow been at fault. That he hadn’t been fully committed and…”
“I don’t know. I don’t really want to know.”
“He said Fox was easily influenced and did whatever he was told. I worry, Noah. Have you somehow talked him into this? Or the other way around? Are you both on the same page?”
“Mum, I think we are. And I don’t think you should worry about Thomas.”
“He said to give it a week or two, and he’d have Fox back in his bed. That he was going back up to Glasgow and sorting the man out. That Fox was out of control. What did he mean by that? Out of control?”
I had no idea, so I just shook my head.
“It’s fast, Mum. I know. But I’m forty and I can’t sit around forever hoping the perfect man will just land in my lap.
And suddenly he did, and I’m… Mum, I have to run with it.
Because if I don’t? I won’t ever have the courage to do this again.
And it’s not just that, it’s Fox. He’s… He’s a different man up there.
He runs that place, and he loves the kids.
He knows every single boy’s name at that school, and the staff all love him, and it’s…
It’s the vibe, Mum. I may not be brilliant at reading rooms and situations, and I don’t always get it right, but I get him.
I get what he does, and he still thinks he’s not good enough, despite clearly being exactly that.
He runs and organises and fixes, and in the middle of all he does? Mum, he…”
I had to stop. Gather myself up.
“He loves me. I don’t doubt that. It’s silly and childish perhaps, but I feel it, Mum. He looks at me, and I just crumble. I go all warm on the inside, and he hugs me and he smiles, and I feel it. And I feel exactly the same about him. I need to be where he is.”
“Then you need to do just that.”
“Scotland is different. But I can cope.”
“We love it in Edinburgh. We can go visit Aunt Tara, and…well. We might even get a place up there. Live out our days at a calmer pace. The south is terribly overrated.”
“Isn’t it just?” I grinned.
“Awful place. The traffic, the pollution.”
“The goddamn sea.” I laughed.
“Terrible. You should consider Scotland, darling. I hear there are great schools up there.”
“The best.”
“And you can have children.”
“We…” Shit.
“What?” Mum was suddenly back to her serious self. “Noah?”
“Yes,” I said. Then I burst into tears.