Читать книгу The Dilemma - Б. Э. Пэрис, B Paris A - Страница 18

11 A.M. – 12 P.M.

Adam

I lower the box that something was delivered in, I can’t remember what, to Josh, standing in the hall below.

‘So, what’s this for?’ he asks.

I come down the ladder and fold it back into the loft. I can’t tell him the real reason so I’ve got an answer ready.

‘You know I’m buying Mum a ring?’ He nods. ‘Well, she’ll guess what it is from the size of the box. So, I’m going to put the ring box into this box to delay the surprise a bit.’

‘Then why don’t you get a whole range of boxes that fit one inside the other? There are loads up there from toasters and things and I’ve got a shoebox we could use for the one before last.’ His enthusiasm grows. ‘Or we could slide the ring box in an empty toilet roll and place that in the shoebox. She’ll never guess then!’

‘No, only one box, I think.’

‘But if you want the surprise to last?’

‘No, I’m just going to put the ring box inside this one.’ I pick up the box and upend it so that it’ll fit down the stairs. ‘Can you give me a hand covering it with wrapping paper?’

‘But won’t the ring box slide around inside? Unless we stuff it with newspaper.’

‘It’ll be fine.’ He follows me down to the kitchen and I dump the box on the floor. ‘Let’s cover it. There’s paper somewhere.’

‘But isn’t it better to do that once you’ve put the ring box inside?’ he says. ‘Then we can seal it up properly.’

‘I don’t want to seal it.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it’ll take her too long to open it.’

He scratches his head. ‘I thought you wanted to delay the surprise?’

I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t asked for his help.

‘I do, but not for that long.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘You will tonight. For now, just let me do it my way.’

‘Yeah, because you never got to do anything your way.’ He says it in such a matter-of-fact way that I know he really believes that everything I’ve done in my life has been out of duty, not choice.

I give him a quick smile. ‘I wouldn’t change a thing.’

His silence tells me that he doesn’t believe me. I reach on top of one of the cupboards, find the rolls of paper that Liv keeps there, and we get on with the task of covering the box.

‘How’s Amy?’ I ask, breaking the silence that has grown between us.

‘She’s fine. Gutted to be missing the party. When are you getting Mum’s ring?’

‘I’ll go and collect it once we’ve put the tables up.’

It’s unbelievable how long it takes the two of us to cover the box. Liv would have done it in half the time with no help from anyone.

‘I hope the tables are going to be easier than that was,’ Josh says. He looks around. ‘Where do you want to put it?’

‘I’m going to hide it under the table on the terrace. But I’ll have to wait until the caterers bring the tablecloths because I don’t want your mum to see it.’

‘She’ll be back before they arrive.’ He thinks for a moment. ‘I’ve got a couple of those party packs with balloons and banners and stuff, and there’s a paper tablecloth in each one. If we stick them together, we can use them to cover the table.’

‘Sounds good,’ I say, smiling at him.

He finds the paper cloths and when we tape them together, they’re exactly the right size to cover the table all the way to the ground. We slide the box underneath.

‘Perfect,’ I say, relieved to have got that out of the way. The loss of the wooden crate doesn’t seem so bad now. ‘Right, now for the tables.’

We take the trestle tables, twelve in all, from where they’re stacked along the wall and put four in the marquee and eight on the lawn.

‘Do we do the chairs now, or later?’ Josh asks.

‘May as well do them now.’

Ten chairs to each table later, we’re done. I check the time; it’s eleven-forty, too early for a beer.

I look at Josh. ‘Beer?’

‘I think we’ve earned it. Stay there, I’ll get them.’

Even though I’m nearer to the kitchen than he is, I know it’s no use insisting. If Josh can help it, he won’t let me do anything for him. He doesn’t even like the fact that I’ve paid his university fees, and has told me he intends paying every penny back once he’s working. It’s why him accepting the internship means so much to me. I honestly thought he would refuse it, given that I was at the beginning of it all.

He comes back with two bottles and Murphy. We sit on the wall to drink them, Murphy at our feet. And all of a sudden, there’s this strange tension between us and I find myself struggling for something to say.

‘You’ll be off to New York soon. I’m going to miss you,’ I add, surprising myself because it’s the first time I’ve ever said anything remotely emotional to him. I brace myself for his rejection but to my surprise, some of the tension seems to evaporate.

‘Really?’

‘Yes, of course I will.’

He nods slowly, taking time to absorb what I’ve said. ‘You know back there when you said you wouldn’t change anything? Is that true?’

The air around us stills, as if everything and everyone, from the birds in the trees to the neighbours mowing their lawns, have realised the significance of Josh’s question and are holding their collective breath, hoping I’ll take this once in a lifetime chance – because we’ve never come near it before, and might never again – to put things straight between us. What has brought this on, I wonder, what has made Josh reach out to me, if that’s what this is? Is it because he’s leaving for the US soon and might not see us for a year?

Murphy raises his head and gives me a Don’t mess this up look. I think back to the remark Josh made this morning about there being advantages in having had my children young, and the way his eyes had darkened when I’d joked at the idea.

‘No,’ I say. ‘It’s not true. There are things I’d change if I could.’

‘What sort of things? Not married Mum? Had me put up for adoption?’ He stretches his long legs out in front of him and although there’s a slight joke in his tone, I know he means every word.

I look at him properly then. His hair is the same colour mine was before the grey bits came, and his face has the same angles, the nose slightly hooked at the end. ‘No, Josh,’ I say. ‘Not any of those things.’

‘What then?’

‘I’d still have married your mum, but later, once I’d been to university.’

‘You might have met someone else at university. She might have met someone else.’

I take a sip of beer, because it’s something I’ve often thought about. Livia and I had only known each other a few months and if she hadn’t become pregnant, maybe we wouldn’t have ended up together. I don’t suppose I figured in Livia’s long-term plans any more than she figured in mine, simply because neither of us were thinking that far ahead. And yet, after the first rocky few years, we’ve been happy, very happy.

‘Well, your mum is definitely the one for me, so I’m sure we’d have ended up together somehow.’

‘But you wouldn’t have had me.’

‘Of course we would have.’

‘No. If you’d married Mum later, you might still have had a son but he wouldn’t have been me. I’m only me because I was conceived and born when I was.’

It’s one of those times when it’s like looking at myself in a mirror. He has the hurt of rejection written all over him, just as I have. We’re bleeding each other dry, I realise.

My mind flashes back to the day he was building a Lego fort, and I became angry at his constant demands to help him.

‘Daddy, I only need help with this last bit,’ he’d said for the fifth time. ‘I did the rest all by myself, just like you told me to.’

‘It’s too old for him,’ Marnie kept telling me when I ignored him. ‘He can’t do it.’

But Josh had persevered and instead of praising him, I lost my temper and knocked the fort over.

‘Why you do that?’ Marnie asked, her grammar deserting her as she looked in horror at the trashed fort.

‘I – it was an accident,’ I lied.

The look she gave me, of pure disgust, reminded me of the one Livia used to give me when I eventually turned up after spending days in Bristol with Nelson.

‘No, you did it on purpose, I saw you! You went over and you did this.’ She made a swiping movement with her arm. ‘You’re horrible and I don’t like you anymore!’ She turned her back on me and went over to Josh. ‘Don’t cry,’ she said, reaching up and putting her arms round his waist. ‘I’ll help you build it again.’

Going over, I crouched down beside Josh, telling him I was sorry and offering to rebuild the fort with him. But he wouldn’t even acknowledge I was there.

‘Leave him alone, Daddy, it’s too late!’ Marnie had cried.

I’d looked up then and seen Livia standing in the doorway, her eyes bright with tears. Not the tears of frustration that I’d seen in the early stages of our marriage, but tears of desperation. And I wondered how long she’d been standing there, and how much she’d seen.

‘This can’t go on,’ she said shakily. ‘It really can’t.’ And I knew she was right.

I tried, but Josh would barely speak to me. He kept the distance I no longer wanted him to keep, and refused to let me help him with anything. Our conversations over the years went something like this.

‘Josh, would you like me to help you with your dinosaur project?’

‘No, thank you, Daddy.’

‘Josh, shall I help you paint your bike?’

‘No thanks, Dad.’

‘Josh, can I give you a hand moving that bed?’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’

‘Josh, do you need some help with your university applications?’

‘No, you’re alright.’

‘Josh, when do you want me to move you to Bristol?’

‘It’s alright, Dad, Nelson’s lending me his van.’

Nothing, just a barrier between us that we’ve never managed to breach. Until now, if only I can find the right thing to say.

I bend down and ruffle Murphy’s fur.

‘I’m really sorry I trashed your fort that day.’

‘It was years ago, Dad.’

‘Maybe. But it’s still there between us.’

‘Only because you let it be. You knocked my fort down. It’s not as if you beat me or anything. You need to let it go.’

I can’t look at him. ‘But you’ve always resented me because of it.’

‘No, I’ve resented the way you tiptoe around me. That’s why I needle you – I’m trying to get a reaction. I just want us to be normal.’

‘I’m not sure I know what normal is.’

‘It’s this, Dad. Having a beer and a chat and being honest.’

Can it really be that simple, I wonder?

‘Anyway, I’m glad you trashed my fort,’ he goes on.

I straighten up. ‘How do you work that out?’

‘Because we wouldn’t have had Murphy otherwise. That’s why you bought him for me, wasn’t it? He was a peace offering.’

‘Yes.’

‘Except you didn’t tell me at the time. I thought you just bought me a dog, especially as you bought Mimi for Marnie a week later.’

‘Only because she made a fuss about not having a pet of her own. Why – would it have made a difference if I’d told you Murphy was to make up for trashing your fort?’

‘Maybe. I mean, if you accept a peace offering, you’re kind of accepting to make peace, aren’t you? Communication, Dad, it’s all about communication.’

We sit in silence for a while, finishing our beers.

‘I’m glad you accepted that internship in New York,’ I say, deciding to communicate how much it means to me.

‘Right,’ he says. ‘Shall we have another beer?’

‘Good idea.’

I sit there, waiting for him to go and fetch them.

‘Go on, then,’ he says, nudging me.

‘What?’

‘Go and get the beers. It’s your turn.’

Such a small thing. But as I make my way to the kitchen, it feels amazing.