13. Chapter 13
‘You know my mum and dad didn’t have a happy marriage and split up when I was young,’ Jack said.
Lucy propped herself up on her elbows and nodded. She knew this part, even though Jack didn’t like to talk about it much. ‘Yes. You told me your mum met someone else, that your mum and dad didn’t even speak to each other after the split, and you don’t speak to your mum now either. You said she moved away.’
Lucy followed Jack’s gaze to a young family playing at the water’s edge. The dad was holding a toddler’s hands in the air as she took her first steps into the water and chortled in delight. The mother was deeper in the water, encouraging a young boy in armbands to swim toward her.
Yes’, Jack swallowed. ‘But there’s a bit more to it.’ He glanced back at the shore.
‘She left us because she had been having an affair with another man,’ he hesitated, ‘and was pregnant. Seems the other man, um Andrew, was happy to have a baby but not take on a child from another relationship… so she left me with dad.’
Lucy’s mouth fell open, but she held her breath and waited.
‘I visited sometimes, but they didn’t have a lot of room, so when I stayed overnight, I had to sleep on a little camp bed in the dining room. They got married when Simon, my half-brother, was three. I was eleven. He was a ring bearer, but I wasn’t in the ceremony. It was a weird sort of day—they got married in the town hall then had some drinks in a pub that didn’t allow children, so my gran took me back home to my dad and,’ he looked away, ‘that was it.’
The little boy was dragging his mother from the water, pointing at the ice cream van. She stumbled behind him, laughing, feet splashing through the shallow waters on the shore.
‘I stopped going to visit when I was about twelve. It was too awkward and uncomfortable. I don’t remember my mum protesting that much.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Then we heard that she’d left Andrew for another man, a guy called Ian. Sometime after that, Ian got a job in Scotland, and that was it.’ He swirled his hand in the cool water. ‘She was gone. I heard they got married up there. Third time for them both.’
‘Oh, Jack,’ Lucy said, struggling to keep her voice balanced. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that. I didn’t know.’
‘Don’t really tell anyone,’ Jack said, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. Lucy could see a muscle working in his jaw, and he rubbed roughly at his eyes. ‘Not something I like to think about.’
Lucy felt tears prick her eyes. ‘Do you….’ She wasn’t sure if she could ask questions, but she also felt that if she didn’t ask now, take this chance to know this part of him, she’d miss the opportunity. ‘Did you see her again?’
‘They came down a few times over the years to see family, and she usually got in touch to say she was coming.’ He swallowed. ‘Then one year, when I was about sixteen, she brought a daughter with her, my half-sister Therese, and I felt…’ He blew out forcefully. ‘I thought, who are these people? Who is this woman?’
Lucy could feel the anger and hurt rolling off him.
‘I felt no connection, only disappointment. She wasn’t at all who I wanted her to be. Needed her to be. And I didn’t…’ He swallowed again. ‘Didn’t know she’d had another baby, so...’ He laughed. ‘That was a surprise.’
Lucy choked down a sob. Jack had previously told her he didn’t have any siblings.
‘Soon after that, I was away at university and wasn’t around when they visited. Then I moved to Yorkshire and…that was that. She knows where I am and sends cards sometimes, birthday—usually late—and sometimes a Christmas card, but I’m not bothered.’
Lucy could see he was deeply bothered and in a great deal of pain, but she said nothing.
‘Sooooo…’ Jack ran his hands over his face and, in a falsely jovial tone, said, ‘That’s why I don’t like weddings. All those promises are pointless!’
‘Oh, Jack,’ Lucy said, floating over to him. Then, in a jokey tone, she added, ‘Except this one, of course, which will be happy ever after.’
‘Sure.’ Jack gave a hollow laugh. ‘Except this one.’
They were quiet for a moment and floated side by side. Then Lucy plucked up the courage to ask.
‘And…’ she cleared her throat. ‘Your half-brother and sister…do you have any contact with them?’
‘No,’ he said after a moment. ‘I just...’ he shrugged, ‘I don’t know them. We didn’t grow up together. Simon and Therese and I, we’re blood-related, sure, but there’s more to family than that, isn’t there? I don’t resent them or anything. They’ve just never been a part of my life, and I don’t feel the urge to change that. That’s why, as far as I am concerned, I don’t have a brother or sister. My life was with Dad, and I know he never really got over the split. He took down all the pictures of her when she left, and I thought he’d thrown them all out. But after he died, and I had to clear out the house, I found he’d kept them all. He had a little book of pictures of her in his bedside table and,’ his voice cracked, ‘their wedding photo, still in the silver frame. They looked so happy. He had all this hope, you see.’ His voice was shaky now. ‘It was for nothing. I thought he hated her because he never spoke about her and didn’t seem to want me to, but after he’d gone and I found the pictures, I realised he didn’t hate her—he just had all this frustrated love and grief, and there was nothing he could do about it.’
Lucy’s eyes were streaming, and she sniffed and wiped her nose on her arm.
‘Thank you for telling me,’ she said, aiming her words up at the endless blue sky.
‘S’okay,’ came the softly gruff reply floating across the water. ‘Good to tell someone, I suppose. It’s not that I truly hate weddings. They just seem…futile. Like an exercise in hope over reality.’ He was speaking in jerky half-thoughts. ‘Sort of, it all starts out well, but then…after some time…it’s hard to stay in love like that…isn’t it? So it seems completely pointless to have that big fuss and get everyone there when in a few years or so…they might split. It’s hard to go along and be excited about something that you just fundamentally don’t see the point of. Relationships don’t last.’
He let out a shuddery breath.
Lucy had so many questions. This explained so much. Not just Jack’s dislike of weddings but also his avoidance when it came to close relationships. Lucy couldn’t remember the last time one of Jack’s relationships had made it to the three-month mark. She rarely even got to meet his girlfriends—there was so little time between him meeting someone and then deciding to call it quits. He always blamed work, saying his job took the best of him and there wasn’t time or energy for a relationship. She was deeply touched that Jack had chosen to share this with her and felt their relationship had shifted to a new and deeper level. And she was moved that he was doing this for her despite his aversion to weddings.
Lucy suddenly realised that, for all their messing about and petty banter, he might not understand just how grateful she was. And she hadn’t understood what she was asking of him, when she nagged him to come with her that day in the cafe. She didn’t want to leave the lake without telling him. She opened her mouth to speak when a shout drifted across the water.
‘Oi!’
Neither of them moved.
Then again, ‘Oi, Lucy!’
Lucy peered out across the glare of the water. It was Ollie, waving and pointing.
‘Time to go in!’ he yelled.
The rest of the wedding party was slowly making their way back towards the shore. Ollie was out in front, with Greg just behind him. Greg shouted something at Ollie as he drew alongside, and then both leaned into their oars and started sprinting for the shore, a race to see who could make it back first. Sophie was leisurely paddling along in the main group, chatting to her bridesmaids, Hannah and Abbie, both of whom appeared not to have a hair or false eyelash out of place. Georgia, no longer going in circles but still going more sideways than forwards, brought up the rear with Ollie’s best man, Dave, who had sweetly hung back to encourage her. Georgia, rather red in the face and puffing, seemed torn between the kindness of the gesture and the company, and a deep wish that no one should see her like that.
Lucy wiped her damp hair from her head and urged her heat-tired arms to drag her back to shore.
‘Jack,’ she said tentatively as they steered themselves back toward the shore. ‘I know it didn’t work out for your mum and dad.’ His jaw tensed. ‘But what if it can work out for some people? What if all that hope and love does get rewarded? Sometimes?’
‘It’s a risky business,’ came the reply, floating on the air.
‘Weddings?’
‘Love.’