Page 29 of A Good Mother
Arty had sent photos that made her internal organs and other bits and bobs do strange things because apart from the obvious telling of time, he hadn’t changed a bit. Still the same rakish smile, that look in his eye.
Willow was excited too. And had quizzed Robin while she pored over her parents’ wedding photos, gazing dreamily at the tall handsome man scowling from the back row.
‘So why did he stay away so long; and why did he and Dad fall out?’ Looking down at the photos she squinted. ‘They’re nothing alike, are they? Poor dad, he definitely missed out on the cute gene.’ Willow, being her usual forthright self, had stated the obvious.
Arty was clearly the most handsome of the brothers by a mile, and that was before you added charisma and all the other stuff that was coming back to haunt Robin by the hour.
‘It wasn’t a falling out so much… more a conflict of opinions because your uncle,’ it was still impossible to say his name because it made it all too close and personal, ‘well, him and God have never got on. He’s a confirmed atheist and when he sets his mind to it, can be very belligerent and knows how to wind your father up.’
Then the million-dollar questions. ‘Does he not wind you up, too? I don’t mind if people have different beliefs, I like it in fact. We should just live and let live, but I can imagine Dad can’t cope with any resistance or insubordination. But whenyoutalk about Uncle Arty, you sound more forgiving. Did you like him when you met him?’
What to say? The truth in its barest form seemed best. ‘Not the first time, no. I thought he was obnoxious and opinionated, and I was offended by his views and couldn’t wait to see the back of him; but then the second time, he’d mellowed, and I saw a different side. Although I suspect he was just toeing the line before the wedding and then, after he’d done his duty, he was off.’
Willow was enthralled. ‘So what happened next?’
‘Your father pushed his luck, wanted him to be your godfather. He said he couldn’t get back which was fair enough because Japan isn’t exactly round the corner, but when it came to Cris’s, I think it was the final straw for both of them. Your uncle point-blank refused.’
‘Hmm, I can imagine.’ Then the killer question. ‘Are you looking forward to seeing him again?’
The heat that spread upwards from her chest to her neck and cheeks was hidden from view thanks to Robin’s vigorous and industrious cleaning of the hob. Her answer was concocted during a moment of panic and yet as much as she wanted to deny Arty, she couldn’t, so to her surprise her words spoke the truth. ‘Yes, actually, I think I am. But I’m also a bit nervous so I hope he’s going to behave because otherwise he’ll spoil it for Cris, and that will make me cross.’
Willow nodded and flipped another page of the album. ‘Well, I’m going to take him on face value and give him a chance. I really want to get to know him and all about Lourdes. I’ve always wanted to go… fancy a devout atheist living there!’
Robin allowed herself a chuckle because the same thought had crossed her mind the second Cris mentioned it. However, Willow was on a roll, so Robin tuned back into the Arty Show.
‘… and not just that, rellies in this family are a bit thin on the ground and as far as Cris is concerned he’s already on Team Arty. Honestly have you heard him? “Uncle Arty canoed down the Nile and he’s been to the Antarctic, and to Peru to see the Inca treasure, and worked on a sheep farm in Oz and met the Queen.” I think Cris has been looking for a hero and he’s found one in Uncle Arty, bless him.’
Willow’s words made Robin’s heart sink, the notion that her son had looked elsewhere for a role model pained her greatly. Sadness consumed her and then anger that Edmund had fallen short, again.
A terrible husbandandfather whose focus was on the church and himself, the spotlight always dimmed where his family were concerned. He was a man of God first, maker of rules and regulations second, father third, lover… unplaced.
Willow, oblivious to Robin’s inner turmoil, rattled on. ‘So, that only leaves Dad. Do you think they’ll get on okay?’ Willow looked up from the wedding album and scrutinised her mother’s face.
‘The fact that they’ve been in touch via email and Dad’s invited him for lunch tells me it’ll be fine, although I wasn’t surprised Arty has booked into a hotel. Vicarages aren’t his thing.’
Willow laughed. ‘What, like he’s the anti-Christ?’
‘Yes, something on those lines and anyway, we don’t have a spare room so it’s best all round.’
Willow persisted. ‘Do you think it will be awkward? I mean, there’s ahuuugegap to fill in, isn’t there. I hope it’s not going to be cringe while you pass the trifle and Dad avoids his favourite subject… and what about me? Do you think he’ll think I’m a God-botherer? I bet he’ll think I’m a real nerd. I know, I could wear my fancy dress nun’s outfit for a laugh. I bet that will be a conversation starter.’ At this Willow convulsed into giggles, highly amused by her own self-deprecation and Robin was reminded of how Arty had made her feel the first time they met.
What a state of affairs. Willow was obviously feeling a little self-conscious, Cris was eager to meet his long-lost uncle who was some kind of legend, and as for Edmund, he’d play the game and wait for Arty to mess up and revel in his brother’s inferiority.
As for her, she floated between giddy Sandra Dee mode, albeit an older less naïve version, and wishing he’d change his mind regardless of how disappointed Cris would be. Then on top of that, it really irked her that one man could affect all of them in such a way.
Days before his arrival, she’d scrutinised her appearance in the bedroom mirror, peering closer to count the crow’s feet under her eyes, wondering who the prodigal brother was expecting when he rolled up. The twenty-year-old bride he’d last seen on her wedding day, or the thirty-eight-year-old mother of two, wrinkles and all.
So shedidn’tgo to the fancy salon in Chester for her roots done because of Arty, and as for the new dresses – they were in the sale, and she loved a bargain. The reason she couldn’t sleep the night before was because she had so much to think about and do, like prepare the vegetables, cook the roast. Edmund would want it to be perfect, hence her jitters, nothing else.
By the time Cris shouted from the landing, ‘He’s here,’ and raced down the stairs to open the door first and greet the uncle who he’d begun to hero worship, Robin had to hide her trembling hands by taking hold of Willow’s.
The moment he walked through the door Robin knew. She fell hard, flat on her face and right back in love with Arty. Who, in his pale blue shirt rolled up to his elbows, faded denim jeans and tan suede boots must have co-ordinated his casual clothing to match his casual air.
Like he’d only seen them last week, Arty handed out hugs to Cris and Willow. ‘Hey, what a sight you two are, even more grown up in the flesh.’ Then a firm handshake and a smile to Edmund. ‘Good to see you, Ed, you’re looking well,’ and finally his eyes rested on Robin.
‘And here she is, the beautiful Robin, not changed a bit, just as I remember.’ He stepped forward, arms outstretched and as he wrapped her in a hug, whispered in her ear, ‘In all of my dreams.’
In that moment Arty reclaimed what had always been his.
