Page 76 of If I Never Met You

Laurie paused. ‘I know the obvious psychoanalysis is I settled down with my first boyfriend as a direct result. But I wouldn’t have grabbed onto anyone. I was happy with Dan. Or we were.’

‘You’re a survivor,’ Jamie said. ‘Of some difficult things. What needs explaining or apologising for about that?’

Laurie had never thought of it that way before. She’d never been called a survivor. She turned the word over her in mind: she liked how it sounded, applied to her. It wasn’t victimhood and it wasn’t self-aggrandising, it was about coping. And she had definitely done that. Her spirits rose. Jamie was an unlikely champion. They shared a look of new understanding, as the refreshments trolley rattled into view.

Not all unintended consequences were bad.

26

‘There he is,’ Jamie gestured with the crook of his arm, hand stuffed in coat pocket, at a tall beaming man, a few yards away.

Jamie’s dad, Eric, was waiting for them on the platform in a Millets cagoule, jangling car keys in his hand. He doesn’t look ill, Laurie thought. He was balding, with rounded features and spectacles, no trace of Jamie whatsoever, to Laurie’s eyes. Jamie had told her he was a retired law lecturer and that was exactly what he looked like. He had the right bearing.

‘They’re very British, I wouldn’t expect too much cancer talk,’ Jamie had said during the journey. ‘My dad sees self-pity as a vice.’

They did hearty introductions, Jamie giving his dad a hug. She stepped back while there was some clapping of shoulders and second round hugging, then Jamie’s dad leaned down and pecked her on the cheek with a hello. He took her case from her without asking.

‘Easy drive here?’ Jamie said, and they made the obligatory small talk about traffic on the way to the car, over the noise of luggage wheels on concrete.

Laurie could almost see the Jamie Carter of myth and legend dissolve on contact. No one, not even Prince at the height of his fame, Laurie reckoned, could maintain their adulthood persona around their parents. Your closest family returned you to whence you’d came, when you were still a work in progress. They weren’t fooled for a second. Older you was a construct.

He drove them home in his Volvo, Laurie having to insist to be allowed to sit in the back, saying Jamie should be upfront with his dad.

‘Now it’s too late for a proper dinner obviously but we thought you might be peckish, so your mother’s got a lump of Stilton and some pork pies.’

‘Do you like pork pies, Laurie?’ Jamie said, turning in his seat.

‘Love them. Especially with pickle and mustard.’

‘I’m sure Mary will have some. Or we can send Jamie to the shop!’

‘Good for you, Jamie,’ Laurie said, and Jamie mock huffed.

They arrived at the house, and Laurie thought: had anyone asked her, a few short weeks ago, what Jamie Carter’s background was, she’d have said, he’s definitely from money. Possibly privately schooled. You didn’t get his sort of confidence from nowhere.

Yet here they were, in a very pleasant but ordinary three-bed semi-detached in a suburb of Lincoln.

Jamie’s mum was who he took after physically, dark – presumably dyed her original colour – hair in a bob, slender frame, high cheekbones, the same neat nose, dark blue eyes.She was a retired R.E. teacher and reminded Laurie of Joan Bakewell.

They poured lots of red wine and they sat round a table in a dining room stacked with bookshelves, and insisted Laurie eat,eat.

Laurie wolfed down cheese on crackers and grapes and slices of pie and discussed the law, crime in Manchester, politics. Her twitchiness disappeared in small increments, until she was having a thoroughly nice time. She was less ashamed of the false pretences that brought her here. Yes, she might not be what they thought she was, but her pleasure in their company was sincere, and she hoped vice versa.

The Carters appeared delighted she had plenty of opinions and insights. Dan’s parents were nice people, but they were principally interested in things immediately around them, the neighbour’s intrusive extension, the weather, their own children.

Jamie’s parents wanted Laurie’s take on world affairs, they wanted to know where she was from (but in a: ‘You sound Northern …?’ kind of way), what motivated her. When Jamie had said they badly wanted her to visit, she thought that it was excitement or relief their wayward son was settling down. While it might still be that, she could see they simply enjoyed meeting people.

‘I’m very impressed at your commitment to legal aid cases,’ his mother said, when Laurie described why she first wanted to study criminal law, and that everyone deserved a defence, ‘My son wants to make the world a better place, but only for himself.’

They all laughed.

‘Nothing wrong with starting with the man in the mirror, as Michael Jackson said,’ Jamie said.

‘I think at some point you’re supposed tostoplooking in the mirror,’ Laurie said, and his parents hooted, slapped their thighs.

‘Oh, I like her, Jamie, I really like her,’ his mum said, putting her hand on Laurie’s wrist. Laurie squeezed her hand in return and met Jamie’s awestruck gaze of gratitude, and it was in some ways, the most unexpectedly rewarding split second of Laurie’s life.

They asked how Jamie and Laurie met, and Jamie told the lift story with much light wit. Laurie was glad to let him take over there, still prickling at the falsehood.

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