The Importance of Being a Bachelor (15 page)

There was a long silence. Adam wasn’t quite sure what a moment like this called for. ‘We all miss her you know,’ said Adam, choosing not to refer to Megan by name. ‘I’ve got a picture of her on my bedside table. You know the one, it was taken that summer when she must have been about two and she’s sitting on the picnic bench at Mum and Dad’s and she’s got that huge Bachelor cheeky grin stuck right on her face. She looks gorgeous.’

‘I know the one,’ Luke said quietly. ‘And you’re right about the cheeky grin too. It’s trademark Bachelor through and through.’

Luke was clearly glad to have got all his thoughts about Cassie and Megan out of his system because they now fell into the kind of light and easy conversation that was their norm.

Russell texted to say he was running late so Adam got a pair of fresh pints and fixed his brother with a firm stare.

‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ asked Luke.

‘Because I’m about to tell you something that’s going to make you think a lot less of me,’ said Adam, shaking his head in mock shame. ‘It’s a big brother thing, you see. I know you look up to me . . . some might even say idolise me, and what I’m about to say might leave you feeling let down.’

Luke clapped his hands in glee. ‘Come on then, mate. Show me those feet of clay.’

‘Well,’ began Adam, ‘before this whole thing with Mum and Dad kicked off I went out on a date.’

‘In what way is that supposed to be news? It would be more likely to be a front-page splash if you went out and
didn’t
go on a date.’

‘Very funny,’ chided Adam. ‘But what I’m about to tell you is quite a big thing for me, OK? So just shut up and listen: a little while ago some of the boys made a comment about me always going out with the wrong kind of girls and so basically I instituted a new policy on women.’

‘This is brilliant,’ spluttered Luke into his pint glass. ‘The perfect antidote to all my woes! My brother has a new policy on women! What, pray tell, does this new policy state?’

‘That I’m only allowed to go out with the right kind of girl.’

‘Which means what exactly? You’ve stopped dating girls like that Scouser Paris Hilton lookalike who paraded around the launch party in little more than her underwear and a pair of kitten heels and are only dating librarians?’

‘Sort of,’ sighed Adam.

‘So what happened? I take it you failed in your mission and are now back in the land of fake tans and long legs?’

Adam leaned in towards his brother in a conspiratorial fashion. ‘What I’m about to tell you goes no further, agreed?’

Barely able to contain his mirth Luke nodded frantically.

‘OK, so I went out on a couple of dates with a number of, you know, ordinary girls and they were lovely and all that but there was no spark.’

‘No spark?’ chuckled Luke. ‘Oh, mate, this is pure comedy gold! My lady-killer brother on spark-free dates with a long line of librarians! What I would have given to have been a fly on the wall!’

‘Look, you can mock me all you like, but this is my love life we’re talking about which some of my followers would consider sacrosanct. So be more respectful before I slap you!’

‘Fine,’ said Luke. ‘No more jokes.’

‘So as I was saying I had these dates and there was no spark and I was on the edge of giving up when I met this girl . . . well actually you might even remember her as she was in my year at school, Stephanie Holmes?’

Luke shrugged. ‘Name rings a bell.’

‘Anyway, she was lovely in a cute kind of way but definitely not my usual type and so I decided to give her a chance and took her out for a coffee and well . . . she pretty much blew me away. She was smart, funny, intelligent and really good to talk to.’

‘And what happened?’

Adam shrugged. ‘I called her up for a date and she turned me down because – get this – apparently I wasn’t her type! Now that’s weird, right? How could she not like me?’

‘Are you joking?’

‘What? Are you going to give me some line about women all being different and how they’re not all into good looks and charm?’

‘Can you even hear yourself? You’re like an ego on legs!’

‘That would be the case if it wasn’t true but I’m afraid it is. I’m like a bloke version of Kate Moss and what bloke would turn down Kate Moss?’

‘Me for starters,’ laughed Luke. ‘She’s definitely not my type. Way too skinny.’

‘You’re telling me that if you weren’t with Cassie, and you were single and you hadn’t had a date with a girl in like . . . six months and then one day you open the front door and Kate Moss is standing there with that face, and those eyes of hers, and she says: “Luke, how about it?” you’d turn her down on the grounds that she’s “not your type”?’

‘Well put like that . . .’

‘Exactly,’ replied Adam. ‘I am putting it like that because it’s an undisputed fact that Kate Moss is every bloke’s type. Now given that in the original scenario we were discussing I was a bloke version of Kate Moss why would any woman in her right mind turn me down?’

‘But women
are
different,’ sighed Luke. ‘It’s not always about looks with them. Some of them are a bit deeper. Some of them go for the stuff that you can’t see and might actually be put off by the stuff that you can.’

‘So what can I do about it?’

‘Nothing. She’s blown you out, mate. That ship has sailed.’

‘You think I ought to forget about her?’

‘Mate, all this is weirding me out so much it’s untrue. But if you really want my advice – and why you’d want it I have no idea – I’d say forget all this right kind of women stuff and go back to doing what you do best.’

‘What’s that?’

‘Being a bachelor. Believe me, bruv, nobody does it better than you.’

‘It’s about you and mum.’

‘So where is it we’re going again?’

It was the following day, just after eleven on a Sunday morning, and Adam was sitting in his car about to respond to his father’s question.

‘We’re going to the Trafford Centre.’

‘And why is it we’re going?’

‘Because I’m buying a cabinet from Habitat and I’ll need some help getting it back to the car.’

Dad shook his head in disbelief. ‘Once upon a time if you were buying something like that you didn’t have to struggle getting it in and out of the back of a car. You just had it delivered.’

‘I know, Dad, but times change, don’t they?’

Dad didn’t say anything but Adam could tell that he was still ranting internally about ‘modern ways’.

In truth Adam wasn’t actually taking his dad to Habitat but rather using it as an excuse to get his father into the car and take him back home.

When Russell had finally turned up at the pub the night before, Adam made it as clear as he could manage without the aid of diagrams that he had had more than enough of his dad as a house guest and it was time that one of his brothers took over the reins. Visibly baulking at the idea the moment it was aired, both Luke and Russell countered that the answer to their problem lay in getting their parents to talk to each other. ‘It’s like this,’ Russell had said. ‘Dad hasn’t got any real mates to speak of, has he? And neither has Mum. All they’ve got each is other so why could they possibly want to live apart? Which is why we’ve got to get them in the same room to talk things out. I’m sure if we can do that we’ll be able to make this whole thing go away.’ And that’s how the plan (hailed by Adam as ‘bloody genius’) was born. Adam would convince Dad that he was taking him on a shopping trip but would in fact take him back home. Meanwhile Russ and Luke would tell Mum that they would be dropping round for an afternoon visit. Once at the house Adam (with the help of Russ and Luke) would persuade Dad to go inside and talk to Mum, and when that was all sorted the boys would leave their parents to it and head over to BlueBar for a celebratory pint.

Adam was relieved that there was a fair bit of traffic on the High Street because he was afraid that the five-minute journey to his mum and dad’s house would be over all too soon. He hadn’t given any consideration to what he was going to say to his dad, which made Adam panic slightly and the more he panicked the more he saw flaws in the genius plan. What if they made matters worse? What if their mum lost the plot and started talking about divorce? What if their actions forced Dad to reveal why Mum had kicked him out thereby resulting in Adam never being able to look at his father in the same way again? For a few jaw-clenching moments Adam seriously considered turning the car round, taking his dad to Habitat and actually buying a cabinet. The thought of spending good money on furniture he didn’t want seemed a lot more appealing than being the catalyst for this potential disaster.

In the end the only thing that kept him heading towards his parents’ house was the prospect of his dad living in his spare room indefinitely and them ending up like some kind of modern Steptoe and Son. The thought of being permanently cast in the role of Harold Steptoe, and his dad in the role of the curmudgeonly Albert, made Adam shudder. No, much as he loved his father, the two of them had undertaken enough rebonding in the past month and a bit to last a lifetime.

‘Listen Dad,’ said Adam as they came to a halt at a set of traffic lights. ‘It’s like this: we’re not going to Habitat and I’m not after a cabinet.’

‘What do you mean? Have you changed your mind?’

‘No Dad, I never was going to buy a cabinet.’

‘Why would you tell me you needed me to help you buy a cabinet if you didn’t want to buy one? It makes no sense but then what do I know.’

‘Dad, this isn’t about furniture. It’s about you and Mum. I only said all that stuff about Habitat to get you in the car. You need to talk to Mum and sort out everything, OK?’

There was a silence. Adam didn’t have a clue what was going through his mind but he was pretty sure it wasn’t good.

‘Look Dad, this really is for the best,’ said Adam as they pulled off the High Street.

Dad said nothing.

‘I know you’re annoyed but in half an hour or so this could all be over.’

Still his dad didn’t say a word.

‘Just think about it, Dad, if you sort this out you could get back to your garden, you know how much you love your gardening.’ He reversed into a parking spot right out outside the house and switched off the engine. Adam pointed to Russ and Luke who were standing on the front doorstep. ‘See, Dad? Russ and Luke came over to make sure that Mum was in and my job was to make sure you got here, so go on, just go in and talk to her and get this sorted.’

Finally his dad, clearly trying to control his anger, spoke. ‘Son,’ he said. ‘I understand that you and your brothers think you’re doing the right thing, and I understand that this must be quite upsetting for you but I swear to you that if you don’t start this car up this very second and take me back to your place I will never have anything to do with you or your brothers ever again.’

Adam had never heard his dad talk with such vehemence and he obviously meant every word he said. As far as his dad was concerned Adam and his brothers had overstepped the mark by some way. For the first time in years Adam felt afraid, not of his dad, but of the situation. This wasn’t just some overblown tiff. This really was the beginning of the end.

Starting up the car Adam watched a look of bewilderment spread across his brothers’ faces as they made their way down the front path towards them.

‘Dad, I’m sorry,’ said Adam as he released the handbrake, desperately hoping for some kind of response. ‘I’m really sorry. Say something will you? Just say something.’

But his dad said nothing.

‘Sorry’

It was the following morning and Adam had been lying in bed for a good half-hour before he gave up and accepted that despite his extreme tiredness he was unlikely to get back to sleep any time soon. As he listened to the clanging sound of Dad searching around in the pan cupboard, no doubt looking for a frying pan for his regulation fried breakfast, Adam glanced over at the luminous red display of his digital alarm clock.

He decided to head into town and treat himself to something new and expensive that he didn’t need. He picked up yesterday’s clothes that were lying on the floor at the foot of the bed and put them on, shoved his feet into his trainers and went downstairs. Pausing to glance in the direction of the kitchen where his father continued his banging and clanking, he made his way out of the front door and closed it quietly behind him.

Adam and his father had not said a single word to each other since the previous afternoon. Passing each other in the hallway, in the kitchen or outside the bathroom their preferred method of communication appeared to be what was known within the family circle as ‘the Bachelor glower’ (brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, mouth set in a permanent scowl) which could variously be interpreted as ‘Just stay away from me,’ ‘You have let me down badly’ or ‘I am so annoyed that I can barely look at you,’ depending upon who was doing the scowling and the degree of facial manipulation that was occurring. This being the case Adam had opted simply to stay out of his father’s way and as his dad had commandeered the front room with the widescreen TV Adam had remained upstairs watching the tiny portable in his bedroom.