Page 115 of Did My Love Life Shrink in the Wash?
‘Why?’ she enquires.
‘Look, if it’s weird. I don’t want to cause a stressful situation. I can leave,’ Will says.
‘No, stay,’ Dad replies, calmly.
‘Did you think about Beth in all of this?’ Meg says.
Mum, for once, agrees with Meg and folds her arms, which is no mean feat in her oven gloves.
‘Well, I was actually thinking of Joe.’
Joe looks up at everyone.I was fine, Pops. I was just nibbling away at the edge of this tissue box. The whole room goes silent; even the Christmas music has clicked off.
‘It was actually Joe who told me to get both Will and Beth in the same room to see if they could try and work things out.’
‘Joe told you…?Have you been drinking, David?’ my mother exclaims.
‘Hand on heart, that’s what Joe told me to do.’
All the nieces giggle.
‘You see, Joe told me about two people he cares about, the most important people in his life, stuck in some first-year-of-parenting rut. He wanted them to see that despite falling out of love with life, with themselves, he didn’t think they’d fallen out of love with each other.’
That’s the thing about Dad, he can come out with things occasionally which are undeniably super cute, that radiate with such heart that it makes it impossible for us to get angry with him. Joe looks up at all of us, wondering when it went quiet. And why Meg might be crying.
‘You really are a bloody idiot, David,’ my mother whispers.
His face is all ruddy and blushed. He probably has been drinking – Pernod would be my bet – but his words spill into this Christmas air with such clarity.
‘And to be fair, it’s getting quite boring you two not getting your acts together. Sort it out.’
Will blushes. Dad might just be right. We’re stuck this side of a wall, and we need to get over the other side, wherever that is.
‘So, Will. I’d like you to stay for turkey. I’d like you to talk to my daughter and spend time with your son and us. If you want to, of course…’
Will nods. ‘I’d like that a lot.’
Will then digs into a gift bag and pulls out a box. Oh no. No no no. Not here, not now. Emma looks absolutely horrified at the cheesiness of it all.Don’t do that here.I open the box. Meg exhales with relief. Inside is a small keyring with a lemon on the end. Lemons. A tear slides down my face. No one else gets it. No one else would.
‘Did Uncle Will buy that because he’s been a complete and utter lemon?’ asks little Violet.
‘Yes,’ says Lucy. ‘But really they’ve both been lemons. Biggest lemons I know.’
Track Twenty-Five
‘I See You Baby’ – Groove Armada (1999)
We leave my parents’ house that night at nine. All the nieces were starting to tire and as is the way with Meg and Mum, the tension was starting to build after a competitive game of charades where they fought over the appropriate way to act out the Tube station Angel.I’ve got one right in front of us on my bloody Christmas tree, Meg, and there you are flapping your arms around. Of course I’m going to think you’re a bird.
It was a day littered with gifts, hugs, laughs, chocolate coins – and Will was there. It was a strange day because there was no peace, no time to sit down and really talk things out. Instead, my family bombed him with distractions and food and noise. Mum, naturally, ignored him and made him sit at the kids’ end of the table. Lucy made it clear to him that he’d have to pay some sort of penance for the kiss at least. But there was a lovely moment too where we were all opening presents and I found out my lot had all chipped in some money to get me some new flooring for my flat. The card read PLEASE GET RID OF YOUR CRAP CARPET. And I cried. I mean, I was pretty tired at that point but it really was the best thing they could have given me. Lucy also got me a three-month free trial at my local gym.But it’s a free trial?Emma asked.You got it for free. How is that a gift?And we all laughed. Especially when we found out that Lucy had got Emma the very same thing.
It’s always bone-shatteringly exhausting coming home at the end of a day of celebration, especially a Callaghan Christmas, so it’s strange that this is now our moment of quiet to finally talk: sitting in the car stuck in some bizarre roadworks that have appeared on the A316. We’re too tired to say much, too shocked to go over what’s happening here. I stare over at Will in the passenger seat. He slips his fingers over mine on the gearstick.
‘Do you think your mum will ever forgive me?’ Will asks.
‘Well, you’re not Emma’s Simon. And she’s always disliked Danny for taking Meg away, so there’s hope.’
‘She made me a cup of tea.’
