Chapter 5
Chapter Five
“Dad burned the toast again, didn’t he?” Matt said as he strolled into the kitchen. The odour of cremated bread still hung in the air.
Mum glanced up from her phone and chuckled. “He claims it’s the new toaster’s fault. He says the old one never burned toast.”
They regarded each other for a beat, and then laughed.
Mum reached for her coffee. “I know it’s awful to laugh, but he does it so often.”
“It’s become a personality trait.”
She nodded. “Along with blaming inanimate objects.” She snorted. “He was muttering something yesterday about the smoke alarm having it in for him.”
He laughed again. “By dinnertime, it’ll somehow be the dishwasher’s fault.”
She studied him for a moment. “You look tired.”
“I got a couple of hours’ work done before you both woke up. The house was lovely and quiet.” His lips twitched. “Then Dad got up and started singing in the shower.”
Mum winced. “You should’ve heard him doing karaoke after we got married.”
Matt stared at her. “You let him inflict himself on innocent people?”
“Marriage involves sacrifice.”
“They had karaoke back then?”
She gave him a look over the rim of her mug. “Careful.” She put it down. “Your father said the interview with Owen went well.”
“Yeah, it did. He’s very generous. He’s going to pay me twenty pounds an hour. He said he might even push it to twenty-five.”
Her mug stopped midway to her mouth. “Seriously?”
“Apparently he doesn’t believe in underpaying people.”
She smiled. “That sounds like Owen. At least, the Owen I knew.”
Something in her tone made Matt gaze at her more keenly. “What do you mean?”
Mum was quiet for a moment. “I think your dad came home yesterday with more questions than answers.”
“Because Owen’s gay? Bi?”
She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. It’s everything else.”
Matt frowned.
“We knew Owen and Cynthia at university. They were inseparable. We assumed they’d be together forever.
” She smiled. “I know, we were young. Then yesterday your dad comes home and tells me they’d married, had a child, divorced, Owen married a man, and that man died.
” She stared into her coffee. “It’s a lot to take in. ”
“That’s a lot for anyone to go through.”
“Your dad said Owen had a thing with one of his professors. And that’s the bit I’m struggling with.”
“Why?”
She hesitated before replying. “Because I keep wondering what Cyn knew… and when she knew it.”
Matt didn’t interrupt.
“If Owen already knew he was attracted to men…” She sighed. “Part of me wonders whether Cyn ever really had a chance.” Her brow was furrowed, her lips tight. “I hate even thinking that, because Owen was one of the kindest people I knew.”
“But?”
“But Cyn loved him.” She gave a small shrug. “I suppose I’m trying to work out whether he broke her heart, or whether they were both victims of something neither of them understood.”
Matt was quiet for a few moments. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“When you and Dad got together… did either of you know exactly who you were going to become?”
She huffed. “Good Lord, no.”
“People spend years working out who they are.” He shrugged. “Sometimes they spend just as long trying to be who everyone else expects.”
“Maybe.”
He went over to the kettle and filled it. “If everyone around you is telling you what a normal life looks like, how do you know you aren’t supposed to want it too?”
Mum let out a breath. “I don’t know. Maybe your father’s right and I’m overthinking it.”
Matt squeezed her shoulder. “Or maybe there are bits of the story none of us know yet.”
That earned him a smile. “Maybe.”
Matt glanced at the clock. “I’d better get my act together. Owen wants to go to B&Q.”
She looked amused. “‘B&Q’?”
“And IKEA.” He grinned. “It seems I’m now his unofficial furniture consultant, as well as his gardener and pool guy.”
She laughed. “I remember that look.”
“What look?”
“The one people got after spending half an hour with Owen. He had a way of making you volunteer for things.”
Matt chuckled. “I don’t think he had to work very hard. All he did was ask if I’d go with him, and I said yes.” He grinned. “It seemed the sensible response.” The kettle clicked off, and Matt made himself a coffee. “I’m not sure what to make of him yet.”
“What do you mean?”
Matt searched for the words. “Yesterday he was Dad’s old friend.”
“And today?”
“Today…” He frowned. “Today I realised I know almost nothing about him. There’s the version you knew at university. Then there’s the version Dad met yesterday.” He gave a small shrug. “I can’t work out how you get from one to the other.”
“Life,” she said simply.
“Maybe.”
All he knew for certain was that Owen had a lot of history.
And history had a habit of becoming more complicated the deeper you dug.
“Would it be okay if I leave you two to talk gardens while I go and look for supplies?” Callum said as they headed into B&Q. “There are a few things I need for work tomorrow.”
“Sure. We’ll meet back at the car.” Owen tossed him the car keys. “I have a feeling you might get done faster than us.”
Callum grinned. “I was going to suggest that.” Then he strolled towards the left of the store.
“This way.” Matt pointed to the right. “The garden centre is at the end, and all the stuff I need is by the doors to it.” Then he paused. “Before we start filling a trolley, we need a plan.”
Owen frowned. “That sounds awfully organised.”
Matt smiled. “Relax. Look… Don’t think of this as shopping for plants or water features. Think of it as designing a space.” He pointed at Owen. “You know what you like. I know what’s possible. Probably.”
Owen smirked. “Probably?”
He laughed. “I’m not selling myself very well, am I?” Matt glanced towards the left. “There’s a cafe over there. First things first. Coffee. Then you answer the most important question.”
“Which is?”
“What do you want? We need to figure out what kind of garden you’re after. Just because the house comes with a perfectly good garden doesn’t mean you have to stick with it. This is your space now, so here’s your chance to make it reflect you. After all, you’re the one who has to live with it.”
Owen stroked his beard. “We should’ve discussed this before we left the house, instead of me dashing us all out of there.”
Matt gave a shrug. “It’s fine. We’ve got time. Callum’ll sit in the car and play on his phone.” He grinned. “You know, the way he did the whole way here?”
Owen chuckled. “You noticed that? You know, when I was his age, we’d have argued over who got to unfold the road atlas.”
Matt laughed. “I saw one of those once. I think it was in a museum.”
“Very funny.” He nodded. “Fine. Coffee and a chat.”
As they walked towards the cafe, he replayed the conversation.
Matt isn’t asking where I want to put a water feature. He’s asking how I want to live.
The thought lingered.
This wasn’t just another house. It was the first home Owen had chosen for himself since Ben. Every room still felt temporary. Every decision could wait until tomorrow, or next week, or even next month.
Matt, on the other hand, seemed to assume the opposite.
What do you want?
It was such a simple question.
The trouble was, Owen wasn’t sure he knew the answer anymore.
Five minutes later, they were sitting next to each other on the only seating available, a two seater couch complete with cushions, two lattes on the low table in front of them. Matt had his phone out.
“I guess the first question is what style of garden you’re after.”
Owen thought for a moment. “I’d like it to feel… peaceful.”
Matt’s lips twitched. “Peaceful isn’t a style.”
He laughed. “Are you sure about that?”
“Pretty sure. It’s more of a feeling.” Matt cocked his head. “Do you like formal gardens? Or do you prefer something less structured?”
For ten minutes, Matt pressed him.
Do you enjoy birds?
Would you want to sit out there every evening?
Do you want colour all year round?
And with every response, he made notes on his phone. When he took a breath to drink his coffee, Owen asked the question he’d been wanting to pose since their talk the previous day.
“Your dad said—and I quote—‘He’s good around a garden, ever since he was old enough to hold a trowel.’ So was it Jeff who taught you everything you know?”
Matt smiled. “Not really. That was Granddad. He encouraged me a lot, and not just in gardening. He taught me practical skills. He took me to museums. We used to talk about old films.” His face tightened.
Owen’s breath caught. “Have I touched a nerve?”
Matt’s smile morphed into a sadder version.
“He’s not doing so well.” Then he paused.
“Except I’m lying to myself. He’s dying.
Right now, he has carers going into the house four or five times a day, but it won’t be long before he has to go into a hospice.
We could be talking a month or two at the most.”
The gardening bit struck a chord. “It’s Jeff’s father, isn’t it? He used to talk about him when we were at university. I think we even met at the graduation ceremony.” He’d seemed a good man.
Matt nodded. “Yeah.” His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Dad goes to see him every week, and lately, more often. He asked me if I want to go too. I said no.” Another hard swallow.
“I feel bad about that, but… The thing is, I don’t want to see him like this.
I’d rather keep him the way he is in my head.
” His gaze met Owen’s. “Does that make sense?”
Owen’s stomach clenched. “Perfect sense. You want to remember him as he was.” Only, sometimes, there was no choice but to see a loved one in those circumstances.
When you were the only person he had in the world.
He took one glance at Matt’s drawn features. “Hey. Why don’t we stroll around the garden centre, and you can show me what your granddad taught you.”
Matt squared his shoulders. “Sounds good to me.” He finished his latte, then waved his phone. “And now I know where to start.”
As they headed towards the garden centre, Owen found himself smiling.
Yesterday he’d hired someone to look after a garden.
Today he was beginning to understand the man who’d be working in it.
Jeff raised a good son.
Except it wasn’t just Jeff.
Somewhere along the way, a grandfather had helped shape the man walking beside him. And every conversation with Matt seemed to uncover another layer.
Like any good story.
The deeper he dug, the more interesting it became.
“I’m going to drop Callum off first, then we’ll go to IKEA,” Owen said as they turned after the traffic lights.
“That works.” Matt chuckled. “I’m sure Callum would rather stick pins in his eyes than walk around IKEA looking at storage ideas.”
From the back seat, Callum snorted. “Wow. You learn fast.”
“And while we’re there, I thought I’d introduce you to Callum’s mum, Cynthia. Except everyone calls her Cyn.”
Matt stilled. “I imagined I’d stay in the car.”
“Trust me, she’ll want to meet you. Once she hears your surname, she’ll work it out.”
“Bet you a fiver,” Callum piped up.
“You’re on.”
“Mum mentioned her this morning,” Matt admitted.
Owen smiled. “Then I’d better hope she behaves herself.”
Callum laughed. “Good luck with that.”
Matt looked out of the window as Southampton drew closer.
For the second time that day, he was about to meet someone who knew Owen better than he did.
Another version of Owen?