The Importance of Being a Bachelor (28 page)

‘All right, Dad?’

His dad said nothing.

Adam decided it was best not to push things but even so couldn’t leave without one last check that this time his parents’ stories were matching.

‘So is it true, Dad? What Mum said happened all that time ago?’

He turned and looked at Adam with tears in his eyes. ‘It’s true,’ he said. ‘Every last word.’

Adam stood frozen to the spot.

‘I’m sorry, Dad,’ he said eventually. ‘I’m really sorry.’

‘Me too,’ he replied and then turned back to gaze out of the window. Adam noiselessly backed out of the room and closed the door behind him. His phone vibrated from inside the front pocket of his jeans. He pulled it out and saw that he had a text message from Steph. ‘I still love you.’ He gazed at it blankly for a few moments playing the words over in his mind and then he deleted it and headed back down the stairs.

‘Then let’s talk.’

Saturday. Mid-morning. And over seven days since Adam had last seen or spoken to Steph. He was upstairs in his office at BlueBar staring into the screen of his laptop trying to find the previous month’s VAT figures when his mobile vibrated. He glanced at the screen and then seeing whose number it was he simply closed his eyes, shook his head and put the phone back on the desk. For a moment or two he tried his best to concentrate his mind on the figures on the open Excel spreadsheet in front of him, convinced that he had perfected the art of divorcing his emotional life from his day-to-day life, but within seconds his eyes were drawn back to the phone as he waited barely daring to breathe for the familiar electronic ‘ding’ that would signal the arrival of a voicemail message.

He listened to her message and was about to call her back when he stopped. He still wasn’t ready. He needed more time, another point of view. He grabbed his car keys and left the bar. His head still buzzing with things that needed to be done and decisions that needed to be made, Adam reasoned the best thing he could do was to kick-start his day by ticking an item that had been bothering him for some time: his mum. He hadn’t spoken to her since the night of the wedding and even though he was aware via his brothers that she had been back home from Leeds for a few days now, he hadn’t called. Partly because he felt he had enough on his plate but mostly because the longer he avoided her the less likely it would be that he would fall apart in her presence.

‘Were you just passing?’

Joan had been sitting on the sofa watching TV when he arrived. He kissed her cheek and sat down.

‘I’ve come to see you, Mum. See how you’re doing.’

‘Do you want a cup of tea?’

Adam shook his head. ‘I’m fine.’

His mum stood up and headed for the kitchen. Realising that this was her way of saying she felt more comfortable talking about whatever it was they were going to talk about if she was doing something else, he followed.

‘We need to talk, don’t we?’ she said, filling the electric kettle and setting it down on its base. ‘I know it’s hard. I know you think that I don’t see how difficult it is for all of you boys, especially you, Adam, but I do.’

‘Why especially me?’

‘You’re the eldest. You think you’ve got to sort everything out for both your brothers. You think the world of your dad. You think I’m letting you down . . . I can carry on if you like.’

‘I don’t think you’re letting me down.’

‘Yes you do. And I don’t blame you but you need to understand how much finding out what your father had been up to really hurt me. I just couldn’t believe that he would behave like that.’

Adam sat down at the kitchen table. ‘I’m having a hard time believing it myself. Did you really have no idea all these years?’

Mum shook her head and opened a new packet of tea bags while the kettle boiled away in the background. ‘When Charlie left Janet I really felt for her, because back in those days the four of us used to do everything together. I used to imagine the four of us getting older, settling down and having kids; I thought they would always be in our lives. So when Charlie left my first thought was to rally round Janet and make sure she was all right. I told your dad I was determined that Janet shouldn’t feel left out and so whenever your father and I went out, whether it was to the pictures or even just for a walk on a Sunday afternoon, we took Janet along with us.’

The kettle clicked itself off and Adam watched in silence as his mum poured out some of the hot water to heat up the mug like she always did and swilled it around before emptying it into the sink, dropping in a tea bag and covering it with fresh hot water.

‘Knowing what I know now of course,’ continued Mum, ‘I suppose the signs were all there, although they were more apparent in Janet than in your father. As our wedding drew nearer Janet seemed to get more and more offish with me as though I’d done something to upset her. I put it down to the fact that she was on her own and missing Charlie and tried my best to be understanding. But when she didn’t turn up on my wedding day, well, I was so angry with her, Adam, I can’t begin to tell you. You just don’t do that kind of thing to someone who’s been such a good friend to you – I felt like she had deliberately set out to ruin my day. Once my sister stepped in as matron-of-honour I decided that I wasn’t going to give Janet a second thought. Of course after the wedding I picked up little bits of gossip about her from people who had heard from her. She had moved to London and one or two people suggested she had run off because of a secret love affair that had gone wrong but I never for a minute thought it might have anything to do with your father. Your dad just wasn’t that kind of man.’

‘I know you think I’m making a fuss about nothing. I know you think it happened forty years ago. Why is she making a big deal out of it after all this time? I know how you and your friends live these days. You think that things like that don’t matter and though it may surprise you I do hear about the girls in your life from time to time.’ She took a sip of tea and went on. ‘It’s no way to live a life with all these girls coming and going with never a mention of love or affection. Don’t you ever get lonely? Don’t you ever want something more substantial?’

Adam didn’t know where to look. How had this happened? He could tell from her tone of voice that her questions were far from rhetorical and she was unlikely to give up without a response.

‘I’m not like that any more.’

‘Good. But when you were didn’t you get lonely? Didn’t you ever want something more substantial?’

‘Of course.’

‘So why did it take you until now to do anything about it?’

‘Because I thought I’d got plenty of time. Things are different from in your day. People don’t feel in such a rush to get things permanently nailed down. These days people just want a bit more time to themselves.’

‘And that makes them happy?’

Adam shrugged. ‘Do you want me to speak for all of them or just me?’

His mum smiled. ‘Just you.’

‘I dunno, Mum, I really don’t. I used to be happy once upon a time but not any more.’

‘Because now you’ve got Steph?’

Adam nodded. ‘She’s different.’

‘She seems lovely. A proper kind of girl.’

Adam smiled.
A proper kind of girl
. ‘That would be one way of putting it.’ He suddenly felt himself brimming over with self-consciousness. ‘You’re not messing about here are you, Mum? Is this you channelling the spirit of Oprah?’

His mum laughed. ‘I’m taking the opportunity to talk to you while it’s here. We never really get to talk like this do we? And I suppose that’s fine because you’re you and I’m me and that’s just the way things are but don’t you think that while we’ve got this window open we ought to make the most of it?’

‘Of course,’ said Adam.

‘OK,’ said Mum. ‘Then let’s talk.’

The next hour or so was possibly the strangest of his life as his self–consciousness faded and he talked to his mum as he had never done before. Not only did he sketch out exactly how he used to live his life but when she asked for specific details (the kind which in any other context would have seen him go into cardiac arrest) he gave them to her. Although there were times when she seemed shocked and disappointed by his behaviour, Adam never doubted that the honesty was a good thing for the both of them. Concluding the story of his life so far with his recent pursuit of the right kind of girls and his relationship with Steph, he asked her with an almost child-like innocence: ‘What shall I do, Mum? What shall I do to get my life the way I want it to be?’

‘I don’t know, son,’ she replied, ‘but I always find the best thing is to trust your instincts.’

‘Just because they’re not concrete, just because they’re not tangible, just because they often fly in the face of  what you assume is logic and reason doesn’t mean you can ignore them.’

Steph looked as lovely as he remembered. She was wearing the same black dress and cardigan as on their very first date. Just thinking about that made Adam wish he had the power to rewind time, to go back to the beginning and replay their courtship from its humble beginnings only this time paying attention to the details. He would never meet anyone like Steph again and even if he met someone similar there would be no way that they would want to be with him. Meeting Steph was one of those once-in-a-lifetime occurrences like Halley’s comet or an eclipse of the sun. Adam waved to get her attention and after a few moments she spotted him, made her way over to the table and greeted him with a huge kiss.

‘I know it’s not cool,’ said Steph, still holding on tightly. ‘I know I should be acting a bit more pissed off than I actually am because you haven’t returned one of my calls this past week but I don’t care about games when it comes to you. I’ve really bloody missed you, Adam, and I don’t care if you know it.’

‘For what’s it’s worth,’ said Adam as he wondered whether given what he intended to do tonight he was about to cross some moral line, ‘I’ve really missed you too.’

Steph sat down and they ordered a bottle of wine and began looking through the menu. The restaurant specialised in modern Portuguese food and gave them plenty to talk about as they tried to work out what to order. By the time they had decided any initial awkwardness had evaporated leaving behind only what had existed before things had gone so awry: the warmth, fondness and intimacy that comes from being in the presence of someone who has seen the very inside of your soul.

As Steph took a long sip from her glass she fixed her eyes on Adam as though she was wondering if this was the right moment to ask a difficult question. He nodded as if to give her permission to ask whatever she wanted.

‘So how are things with your parents?’

‘Not good.’

Steph looked at him intently, clearly waiting for him to bring her up to speed. He tried to gauge how he felt about the idea of talking about his parents to her and realised that he was fine. A week had gone by; though still sore the wound was healing nicely enough. He could relay what Steph wanted to know without triggering something deeper. And so he set about telling the story of his father’s forty-year-old affair.

Steph listened carefully and without comment until Adam had finished. ‘As a woman I completely understand how horrible it must be for her.’

‘Why as a woman?’ asked Adam. ‘Don’t men understand betrayal?’

‘I’m not saying that, Adam. It’s just that . . . well, men are a lot more practical, aren’t they? I don’t think that’s too harsh.’

Adam shook his head. ‘No, not really.’

‘And because of that practical nature you, your dad and your brothers are all thinking: “Instead of focusing on the one bad thing that happened the best part of forty years ago why doesn’t she just focus on the forty-odd good years that came after it?” ’

‘OK, we may have had a conversation along those lines.’

‘And the rest! But that’s fine because that’s how men work: they think practically. But your mum won’t be thinking like you. She’ll understand your arguments and she might even acknowledge the plausibility behind them but she won’t
feel
them. And most men never really understand that feelings matter. Just because they’re not concrete, just because they’re not tangible, just because they often fly in the face of what you assume is logic and reason doesn’t mean you can ignore them. We can’t. We’re not made like that. Feelings are the foundations of everything and if something shakes those foundations it affects everything else. Nice as it would be if we could just accept that and move on, what for you is a matter of reasoning for us is a matter of basic structural engineering law. You just can’t argue with bricks and mortar, Adam.’

The rest of the meal passed by without event as Adam and Steph fell into their usual comfortable groove chatting about everything and nothing as though they had all the time in the world. Every once in a while Adam felt a twinge of guilt that he had yet to talk about his reasons for not having seen her all week let alone the conclusion he had come to. He hoped that when crunch time arrived he would have changed his mind but in any case he didn’t want to spoil the evening.

‘I’m glad all this is behind us now,’ said Steph later that night as they stood in her kitchen while she poured out two glasses of wine. ‘I don’t mind admitting that there were a few moments this week when I thought you were going to do a runner on me. But we’ve had such a nice night together that . . .’ She paused, set down her wine glass on the kitchen counter and hugged him. He felt more and more like a fraud the harder she embraced him. As she turned her head up to kiss him he realised that the moment he had been dreading had finally arrived and he couldn’t prevent it from happening.