22. Carly
Chapter 22
Carly
I think I’m going to like working with Jack. He makes terrible coffee and he has no taste at all when it comes to ties, but he knows his job, and he’s clearly passionate about it. The new system sounds exciting, and a huge improvement on the old one we’ve had for years. It will make everything simpler, smoother, easier, and I’m really chuffed that someone somewhere suggested I was the person to help implement it. I wonder if that someone was Jack. If it was, I hope he picked me for the right reasons. All to do with my professional expertise and nothing to do with the fact that, even though I’m sure he would deny it, I know he still fancies me.
Our half-hour meeting actually overruns by a good hour, until my stomach gives an unexpected growl and we decide it must be time to stop for lunch.
‘Fancy a walk down to the pub?’ Jack says, bundling up the papers he has strewn all over the table. ‘Get a pie and a pint? A girl can’t live by biscuits alone, can she? And this is a business meeting after all. Perfectly legit. I might even be able to claim it on expenses.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t. I’m the one who has to approve them, remember, and filling me up with booze is not on the allowable list, I can assure you!’
‘On me then. I think I can probably run to half a pint each and a plate of chips!’
‘Money tight these days, is it?’
‘Always is. Living in London’s not like Norfolk, believe me. Everything costs more here. Beer, food, buses, rent… you name it.’
‘Nappies?’ I can’t resist it. All this time we’ve been sitting here talking and he hasn’t told me. Okay, I know this was a business meeting, but we’re friends, aren’t we? Or I thought we were. Are. He should have told me.
I’ve ruffled him, I can tell. He doesn’t quite know what to say.
‘Yes, Jack, I know. About the baby. Syd told me. I know he probably shouldn’t have, but he did, so there we are.’
‘Sorry. Yes, I could have said something, I guess. I’m still getting used to the idea myself, to be honest with you. Not actually told anyone at work yet.’
‘Well, congratulations.’ I push away all thoughts of his wife and her bulging belly, and what exactly she and Jack had been up to in order to put it there. ‘You’ll make a great dad.’
‘Will I?’
‘I have no idea! But it’s what people say, isn’t it? And what is there to it anyway? It’s mums who do all the real work, we all know that. You just have to bring in the readies, and get home in time for a quick tuck-up in bed and a story. Even you should be able to manage that.’
‘There you go again with the even you stuff. You don’t have a very high opinion of me, do you?’
‘I’m sorry.’ And I am. I really am. When I look at Jack, I still see what I have always seen. The man of my dreams. The man I still do dream about, far too often for comfort, to be honest. It’s not his fault I can’t stop thinking about him, and there’s no need for me to keep sniping away at him. ‘Come on. Yes, we will go to the pub, and I’ll buy the drinks, okay? A sort of wet-the-baby’s-head thing.’
‘It’s not born yet, Carly.’
‘Well, no excuse needed then. If I’m going to be on board for this project of yours, we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other, so we might as well get to know each other a bit better over a drink or two. Friends, like we agreed, when we…’
‘Let’s draw a line under that, shall we? Start again?’ He reaches for my hand across the table, and I think for a minute that he’s going to shake it, but he doesn’t. He lifts it slowly and carefully to his lips and kisses it, so gently it sends a delicious tingle right up my arm. It’s probably the most old-fashioned, gallant and truly touching thing a man has ever done to me. Oh, Jack!
‘Deal,’ I say, my voice coming out in a funny little squeak, and we both stand up and walk into the corridor and towards the lift, leaving the empty cups and a plate of biscuit crumbs behind us. I can come back and deal with those later. I am going out to lunch with Jack, and nothing else matters right now. Gorgeous, handsome, totally out of bounds, Jack. I peer around, making sure Suze isn’t lurking anywhere, ready to catch me out, shake her head and give me a good telling-off. But she’s nowhere to be seen.
Jack behaves himself over lunch, and so do I. Now there’s a baby on the way, there’s a sense that the rules have changed somehow. I know that the flirting has to stop, even if the feelings haven’t. We arrange another meeting, to sort through the IT project and my part in it, and then we go back to work, two floors apart.
I’m surprised, later, when I walk out of the building at half past five and find my brother waiting for me on the pavement. He’s leaning up against the wall, head down, fiddling with his phone, when he looks up and realises I’m standing right in front of him.
‘Sam. What are you doing here?’ I have a sudden thought that it might be bad news, too bad for him to tell me over the phone. ‘Nothing’s happened to Mum, has it?’
‘No. Don’t worry, Carls. She’s fine. Just passing, you know? And thought we might have a bit of a chat.’
‘Passing? Sam, there’s no way you ever have any reason to be just passing. Not around here. So, what’s it really all about?’
‘Come on, let’s walk, shall we? Fancy a quick drink or a burger or something?’
It’s too early to eat, so we head for the nearest pub, the same one I was in with Jack only a few hours ago. Sitting in the same seats would just feel too weird, so I aim for a different corner, closer to the TV. There’s usually some sport or other that Sam’s bound to want to watch. I fish my purse out of my bag. Although it was Sam’s idea to come, he’s still my little brother as far as I’m concerned – Mum and Dad’s late-life miracle as they always used to refer to him although they weren’t even forty at the time – and I don’t suppose his plumbing apprenticeship leaves him with a lot of spare cash.
‘Pint?’ I say, leaning on the edge of the bar, and he nods.
‘And a bag of crisps, if that’s okay? I’m starving.’
‘I’m not hungry yet, but you have some proper food if you want. Won’t Mum have cooked you something by the time you get home though?’
‘I wasn’t actually planning on going home. Well, not for a while anyway.’
Now I am intrigued. ‘Why?’
‘It’s that Anthony…’
‘Ah, yes, Anthony. I’ve been meaning to ask you about him.’
‘Oh, he’s a nice enough bloke, don’t get me wrong, but he’s just…’ He stops talking and shakes his head as if he can’t put whatever it is into words.
We grab our drinks and Sam’s bag of salt and vinegar crisps and sit down.
‘You were saying? He’s just what?’
‘Just… there, I suppose. You know, there at home. All the bloody time. I can hardly move without tripping over him! If he’s not having a cup of tea in the kitchen, he’s helping her with the weeding and then they’re having a takeaway or going out to some shop or garden centre together.’
‘I thought you liked him? That you had a lot in common, bonding over the parsnips and all that?’
‘I did. Well, I still do, I guess, but… that was when he was just some bloke I’d talk to at the allotments. And it was actually quite funny when I thought Mum was lining him up for you. He is so not your type!’
‘You don’t have to tell me that. And I’m quite capable of finding my own boyfriends without any help from Mum of all people.’
‘Well, that’s debatable, but we’ll leave that subject for another day, shall we?’
‘Bloody cheek!’
‘But what I want to know is what we should do about it? About Mum and Anthony. With an H. Mustn’t forget that bit.’
‘Do about it?’
‘Look, Carls, I don’t mind Mum moving on. Dad’s been gone a long time now and she’s not old, is she? Well, not that old. We should expect that she might want to meet someone one day and have another go at love, marriage, whatever…’
‘Marriage? You surely don’t think things are that serious between them?’ I take a huge gulp of my drink and have to swallow hard to stop myself from choking on it.
‘Who knows? They haven’t said anything to me, but he’s becoming a sort of fixture, you know? And it feels a bit odd, uncomfortable, him being there, doing all the things Dad used to do. Using Dad’s garden tools and his old wellies, sitting in his chair in the kitchen, helping himself to things from the shed. He even borrowed Dad’s old umbrella when he went home one night last week and it had started to rain. At least he went home, which is better than him staying the night, which thankfully hasn’t happened. Yet. I don’t think Mum’s quite ready for that, but it could only be a matter of time, couldn’t it? Can’t you just imagine him lying there, on Dad’s side of the bed, slipping into Dad’s dressing gown to come down for his breakfast?’
It’s an image I really don’t want popping into my head. It makes me wish Mum had been a bit more thorough and got rid of more of Dad’s things. Still, the longer she holds on to them, the more likely it is that she’s not ready to replace him. That’s my theory anyway.
‘He’s too young for her. She wouldn’t…’
‘She might, Carls. Unless we stop her.’
‘And how exactly are we meant to do that? I’m always telling her I’m a grown woman and I can make my own decisions, especially when it comes to who I go out with, so I can hardly deny her the same, can I?’
‘Well, do you want a toy boy as a stepfather?’
I can’t help laughing at that. ‘He’s a bit old to be a toy boy, Sam.’
‘She’s sixty, Carls, and he’s in his forties. Think about it.’
I do think about it, and I don’t like it.
‘Do you think he makes her happy?’
‘She laughs a lot more than she did. But watching Ant and Dec or Michael McIntyre can do that. And if it’s affection she wants, she can get a cat. She doesn’t have to make a fool of herself with somebody nearly young enough to be her son, does she?’
‘Is that all there is to it, Sam? The age thing?’
‘I dunno. Maybe.’
‘Or would you feel the same whoever he was?’
Sam sips at his beer and gazes at the blank TV screen in front of us. ‘He’s not Dad, is he?’
‘No. And nobody ever can be. But, if she’s ready to find someone, I think maybe we just have to let her. If he’s the one – the one who eventually takes Dad’s place – then I don’t think we can stand in the way. It’s her life, her choice. It might not come to anything. Just friends, you know. But if… well, we can’t help who we fall in love with, can we? In fact, maybe it’s time you found a serious girlfriend yourself, then you can move out and not have to see them together all the time. Leave Mum to it. You must be cramping her style, turning up every evening and wanting to be fed, spoiling their alone time!’
He leans over and swipes at my arm. ‘Pot, kettle, black! I see no serious relationship in your life, little Miss Independent! But, no, it’s not gonna happen. Not for years yet. I’m way too young for all that getting tied down stuff. There’s football, and pubbing, and having a laugh with my mates. Got to enjoy life while I’m still free and single, not have to ask permission from my wife every time I want to go for a pint. When I see it happening for you, I just might consider a change of heart.’
There’s not a lot I can say in answer to that. What with the unexpected reappearance of Jack Doherty in my life, and finding I am far more fond of babies than I had ever imagined, I’m beginning to think that maybe, just maybe, I would rather like to change my life, fall in love and settle down after all. There’s just one problem, of course. Who to do it with, now that Jack is not only married but soon to be a father, and even more out of the equation than he’s ever been.