Page 10 of The Art of Loving You

‘We still do. Libby, don’t compare me to Owen.’

‘I just want you to be okay.’

Looked after.

Loved.

‘I am. One day … one day the baby might have a father but until I can find the right one …’

‘Life isn’t all about perfection, Alice. Relationships are about compromise. Nothing is perfect. Jack isn’t perfect.’ I was trying to make her feel better.

‘How so?’ she asked.

I stalled for time, wiping my nose, clearing my sore throat. I could tell her a million things that were right with him, but I looked at the expression on Alice’s face and I knew it was important that she realise we are all flawed.

‘He’s too optimistic.’

‘That’s a fault?’

‘It can be. Like this place. Look at it. He sees what it can be. We’ve a real challenge here but he’s all “it’ll be fine”.’

‘It will,’ said Alice. ‘Because he’s a hard worker and passionate.’

‘So hard-working that he often forgets to eat, which is okay when it’s just him but when it’s his turn to fix dinner it’s annoying.’ I don’t tell her that he always puts this right as I’m pulled back towards that photo on my phone, thinking of the after, curled up in towelling robes in bed, hair shower damp, spicy pepperoni pizza with stringy mozzarella stretching between our slices – aLady and the Trampmoment in time but with cheese rather than spaghetti.

‘And!’ I added triumphantly. ‘He’s too focused on helping other people sometimes, sacrificing what he should be doing to help someone else out. What he’s done for the kids he teaches is amazing but sometimes …’ I faltered, feeling terrible for even thinking it.

‘Sometimes?’

‘It can encroach on the little time we have together. They look up to Jack—’

‘He’s a great role model.’

‘He is but … Liam, in particular, seems so reliant on him, even more so since he left school and started his art and design course at college.’

‘How’s that going for him?’

‘He’s not crazy about it. Level 1 covers such a broad spectrum of areas from 3D crafts to textiles and graphic design. Liam really wants to focus on the painting but it was this or an apprenticeship in God knows what. His GCSE grades weren’t high enough for the school to accept him into sixth form and he had to do something. He was always dropping round to the flat to show Jack his assignments, unannounced, uninvited.’

‘Unwelcome?’

‘Not exactly. I always asked him in and usually fed him. I feel sorry for him. He’s permanently hungry. It’s nice to see the way he’s changed. He was so … angry when I met him. Defensive, but now he’s softened. Particularly around Sid.’ The teenagers had bonded with Sid in a way neither Jack or I had envisaged. He told them stories of the past and they gazed at him with such respect. The fact he also shared his tobacco with them probably helped forge their unlikely friendships. But then you couldn’t help loving Sid. ‘I just wish Jack would set some boundaries sometimes.’ It was unfair to say this. Jack would always put me first, I just hadn’t asked him.

‘Riiight,’ Alice drew out the word. ‘So in proving Jack’s not perfect all you’ve come up with is that he’s too happy and kind. Poor you.’ She covered her heart with her hand. ‘I don’t know how you cope.’

I picked up a cushion and threw it at her. As it flew through the air dust motes danced in its wake triggering a bout of sneezing which, in turn, exacerbated my pounding head.

‘You sound so rough,’ Alice said.

‘I’ve felt better,’ I admitted. ‘Those things I just said—’

‘Were because you were trying to cheer me up, Libs. I know you love him to bits. He is taking ages though.’

I text him.Where are you?! I’m dying here!

Minutes later my phone began to ring.

The first phone call, the earlier one from Alice, had changed so much. I was to be an auntie. Already I had begun to feel the weight of responsibility towards the new life along with the worry of a big sister that she was doing this alone. But that phone call had brought,ultimately, happy news. The second phone call though … God, that second phone call.

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