A Vintage Wedding (31 page)

Read A Vintage Wedding Online

Authors: Katie Fforde

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance

Lindy didn’t speak. She just got the children washed and out of the bath as quickly as possible. If the doorbell rang while they were still in it, she wouldn’t be able to answer. She wielded the toothbrush, ignoring protests from Ned that she was using toothpaste that was for three-year-olds.

‘Just open wide,’ she said.

‘Can’t I do it? You always let me do it!’

‘Not tonight. We’re going extra specially fast tonight. If Angus is going to read you stories, he wants you to have clean teeth.’

‘He’s bringing toys,’ said Ned, while Billy’s teeth were being done.

‘Goodness me. You are lucky boys,’ said Lindy, wondering if Ned had actually got the message correctly. It all seemed to be going very fast, this uncle thing. Angus had played with them very patiently at her parents’ house but now, to come round at bedtime with toys and promises to read bedtime stories – it was very unexpected.

Once the boys were clean, dry and in their pyjamas, sitting in front of the television for a bit of unscheduled viewing, Lindy tried to ring Angus back, to find out what, if anything, was going on. She really hoped he was coming round. The boys would be bitterly disappointed if he didn’t. And she’d had enough of their father not turning up on time and having to make up stories about late planes and missed trains. She really hoped Angus was different. And not, she admitted, just for the boys’ sake.

Fortunately, just as she was trying to find his number on her phone – quite what Ned had done to it before he handed it back she didn’t know – there was a knock on the door. It was only after she’d got it open she realised she was probably smiling a touch too widely. It was only a casual visit, after all, not someone telling her she’d won a million pounds.

His returning smile was enthusiastic too, but also a bit surprised.

Lindy tried to explain. ‘Oh hi! I’m just so pleased to see you because the boys were all excited and I thought Ned might have got it wrong and you were coming another day or not at all …’ She trailed off.

‘Can I come in?’ he asked.

The way he looked down at her as he said this made Lindy’s stomach clench. Instantly she was a schoolgirl again, with a hopeless crush on someone’s older brother.

‘Do – go through to the sitting room. The boys are there. Shall I put the kettle on?’ She was still gabbling, she realised, and took a breath, willing herself to calm down.

Angus put down the old rucksack he had with him and went through to where the boys were sitting on the sofa, television ignored, looking up at him, already a favourite uncle.

‘Uncle Angus!’ they shouted and rushed to him.

‘Hi guys,’ he said calmly. ‘Are we going to have stories, or what?’

‘Stories!’ they yelled.

‘Then let’s all calm down then.’ He took his seat in between them on the sofa. Then he looked at Lindy. ‘Do we have stories down here, or should we go upstairs, Lindy?’

Lindy had re-established herself as a sensible young mother. ‘Two stories down here and then two when they’re tucked up in bed,’ she said.

She tidied up the kitchen while they were downstairs, overhearing him read to the boys. But when the two stories were over and he was marching them upstairs, she followed.

‘Come on, boys, into bed now.’ She switched on the night lights, drew the curtains, arranged the teddies. Then, to her enormous relief, the boys got in as calmly and obediently as if they advertising some child-centred product.

‘OK, which book?’ said Angus.

She handed him the current favourite and perched on the end of Billy’s bed. Angus sat in the middle of the bed so both boys could see the pictures. He read to them in a calm, soporific voice. While he did this she thanked the Goddess of Mothers for making her often obstreperous children seem perfectly brought up, just for these few minutes. Then she added a prayer that this would continue. When the story was finished, she kissed both boys and tucked them in.

‘We’re going downstairs to have a cup of tea but I’ll pop back up in a minute. There’ll be a prize for the first boy to be asleep!’

‘What’s the prize! What’s the prize!’ said Ned.

‘Something special from my bag,’ said Angus.

‘But what is it?’ persisted Ned.

‘If you go to sleep very quickly, you’ll find out!’ said Angus. ‘And if you’re both asleep, there’ll be prizes for everyone.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Can you be asleep in ten minutes?’

‘Yes!’ said Ned, who lay flat and screwed his eyes shut.

‘And you, Billy,’ said Lindy. ‘You can be asleep in ten minutes too!’

Then Angus and Lindy left the room.

Lindy didn’t speak until they were downstairs. ‘Well, that was the best bedtime ever! It’s not usually that easy, I assure you!’ She knew she could have pretended everything was always so calm but that would have felt like lying.

‘I think it helps having someone they want to impress, their Uncle Angus in this case.’

She laughed. ‘Yes, I think that helped a lot. Thank you so much for reading to them.’

‘I loved it. It probably would get less fun if I was doing it every night but they were very good stories.’

‘Oh!’ said Lindy. ‘And quite good boys?’

He nodded. ‘Very good boys.’

She smiled at him, aware that she was being teased and enjoying it. ‘Well, I said we were having tea so I’ll put the kettle on. Unless you’d prefer coffee? Our other option is hot squash.’

‘Actually, I brought wine,’ he said, finding his rucksack and looking in it. ‘White or red?’

Wine would alter the whole mood of the evening, turning it from a ‘pop round, tea and biscuits’ into something more like a date. She realised she hadn’t ever had a man in her house who could be described as a date. She had been on some dates – forced into it by friends and family – but they’d never been in her house. She felt a shiver of something between excitement and nerves. She tried to suppress both. This wasn’t a date, he didn’t fancy her (did he?) and she was a grown-up now, not a silly adolescent.

‘Red please,’ she said. ‘I’ll get glasses. You go through to the sitting room.’

She tipped a couple of packets of value crisps into a bowl and brought them with the glasses. Then she quickly lit candles and turned off the main light. ‘I always do this in the evening. It helps me overlook the mess.’

He laughed and started pouring wine. She opened the wood-burner and added a log. Then she accepted the proffered glass and looked longingly at the sofa.

‘This is nice,’ she said. ‘But I must just check on the boys. They probably are asleep, but you never know.’

‘I’ll sort out the prizes,’ said Angus. ‘Then we can both relax.’

As Lindy ran upstairs she felt a hiccup of excitement. Relaxing, with Angus, wine and candles, was a very lovely thought!

‘Right,’ said Angus when Lindy returned, reporting both boys fast asleep. ‘Let’s see what we’ve got. These things were in the attic. There were also some beautifully painted toy soldiers, pure lead, so really not suitable until the boys can be trusted not to suck them, or put them anywhere near their mouths. I didn’t bring those.’

‘I’m glad. I’d have had to find somewhere to keep them until Billy was old enough and storage is a bit of a problem here.’ She indicated the room; it was fairly tidy, but there were still boxes stacked in the corners, under the chairs and one stack even formed an occasional table.

‘Well, they’re just fine in my house. I’m clearing out the attic to get at the roof, which is when I found these things, but there’s plenty of room for storage.’

‘What beautiful words!’ said Lindy. ‘I can’t think of any more beautiful ones just at the moment.’

He laughed and glanced at her. ‘You’re easily pleased. Now, what about this? A child’s tool kit but they’re all real tools, just smaller.’

Lindy took the box. ‘They’re lovely! And in such good condition!’

‘My grandfather had some very similar, but we were never allowed to play with them.’

‘Too dangerous? They probably are lethal really.’

‘I don’t think it was that. My grandfather didn’t want them messed around with.’

‘Oh, that’s sad.’ Lindy took a sip of wine that, she couldn’t help noticing, was far better than the wine she usually drank, and reflected how her own father loved teaching the boys things. ‘But maybe you didn’t express any interest in the tools?’

‘Oh, we did but were firmly told they weren’t for little boys when it was blatantly obvious they were!’ Angus laughed but Lindy suspected he had been a bit hurt by this in the past. ‘I loved carpentry,’ he went on. ‘Still do. And I’d love to show your boys how to use tools properly.’

‘They’d love that! Mind you, the way they seem to feel about you, they’d love it if you taught them their times tables. In fact, a bit later on, I might get you to do that!’

Angus laughed. ‘I’ll have to make sure I remember them. And of course, they’ve got a grandfather who’s much more hands-on than mine ever was.’

‘But he hasn’t got a perfect miniature tool set. And his carpentry isn’t great either. Although he’s happy to let them do things. Edward never liked Ned fiddling with his things. He used to get really upset.’

‘Well, I suppose if they could have injured themselves …’

‘No,’ said Lindy, chuckling, although she hadn’t felt like laughing at the time. ‘I meant his Lego sets.’

Angus smiled. ‘I remember. Not good at sharing.’

‘He had other virtues,’ said Lindy hurriedly, aware she shouldn’t criticise Edward in front of his brother.

‘Such as?’

‘He was fun – at least at the beginning. But he had the whole parenting thing thrust on him when he was far too young.’

‘So did you. You were younger.’

‘I know but I’m a girl!’ she said. ‘We grow up faster.’ She smiled to show she was joking but actually she felt it was true. Then, because she felt uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation – she didn’t want to moan about her ex-husband to his brother – she said, ‘Have you eaten?’

‘Have you?’

‘Not really. The boys ate with my grandmother. I usually just have toast or something if it’s only me.’

‘Can I make a suggestion? That I go out for fish and chips.’

‘That would be great – but there isn’t a chip shop in the village.’

‘Since I moved into a house without much of a kitchen, I soon learnt where the chip shop is.’

After a brief discussion about what was required, he left.

While he was gone, Lindy went up and checked on the boys again, and then she brushed her teeth. Then she rinsed out her mouth so he wouldn’t notice that she smelt of toothpaste. Back downstairs, doing a bit more clearing up, she thought about Rachel, about how, although she was sure he would, Raff didn’t even kiss her.

She would be very, very surprised if Angus had even thought about kissing her. He was there as a kind uncle – a truly excellent one – not because he fancied her. He probably felt sorry for her: plucky little Lindy, made pregnant (twice) by his brother, and now bringing up the boys on her own. And thought it would be good for the boys to have a man in their lives, and not just a grandfather, who, however willing, was obviously a generation older.

One grisly scenario that fortunately she did manage to dismiss was a family conference: ‘Angus, you’ve got to go and check on those boys. Make sure they’re not little hooligans with ghastly accents. Being brought up by that girl can’t be good for them.’

So, unlike Rachel, she wouldn’t feel remotely snubbed if he didn’t make any sort of move on her. She wanted him too; she was honest enough to admit that, but she didn’t expect it.

Quite why she fancied him so much was probably because she hadn’t had a boyfriend since Edward left; she’d had a major crush on him when she was a teenager and he was very good with her boys. He was also a good-looking man and very kind. Any woman in her position, lacking male attention, a single parent and really quite young, would be bound to be attracted.

She’d done quite a lot of tidying while she had these deep thoughts so when Angus arrived with vinegar-smelling packages, she was ready for him.

‘I’ve got the plates hot,’ she said. ‘So, in the kitchen or in front of the fire?’

‘The latter, please. Not having any sort of fire just yet, that sounds lovely.’

‘It was so kind of you to read to the boys,’ said Lindy when the fish and chips had been eaten and they were sipping mugs of tea. ‘You do it so well.’

‘I used to read to kids in a children’s home when I was in Canada. I got roped into it by a friend who was an actor; he taught me how to do it. Expression, but not too much, not if you want them to sleep.’

‘Well, you do it perfectly. My dad’s quite good. I remember being read to by him as a child. He’d only read things he liked though, which were sometimes a bit too old for me.’

‘What sort of things?’


The Jungle Book
,
Old Peter’s Russian Tales
,
Wind in the Willows
. They’re all there in the bookcase waiting for when the boys will appreciate them.’

Angus got up and went to where she indicated. He pulled out a book. ‘I don’t know
Old Peter
,’ he said.

She laughed. ‘Feel free to borrow it, any time.’

‘I’m going to read it to you,’ he said. ‘Make yourself comfy on the sofa, put your feet up. And then listen.’

Lindy happily shuffled cushions around and pulled a blanket from the back of the sofa over her, making herself comfortable. ‘I love being read to,’ she said. ‘This is so kind. But you’re not to feel offended if I go to sleep.’

‘Of course not. Now listen.’

She let the beautiful golden tones of his voice flow over her. His friend had taught him well. He did the voices but didn’t exaggerate them so they sounded as if they were in a play. She closed her eyes.

She awoke to Angus gently pushing her head back on to a cushion.

‘Sorry to wake you,’ he said, ‘but I thought you’d get a crick in the neck if you slept with your head forward like that.’

She shook her head to wake herself properly and found herself looking into his eyes. The next moment his hand was behind her neck and his lips were on hers.

It was heavenly to be kissed so tenderly yet thoroughly. She’d been on her own for three years and she missed that sort of physical contact. She had her lovely, cuddly boys constantly snuggling up to her, their little limbs tangling themselves around her, and her kind and affectionate parents who offered frequent hugs, but she missed this. She wanted it. She hadn’t expected it to happen but now it was happening, she wasn’t going to stop it.

Other books

In the Bleak Midwinter by Julia Spencer-Fleming
Tyringham Park by Rosemary McLoughlin
Do I Dare Disturb the Universe? by Madeleine L'engle
The Perfect Blend by Allie Pleiter
Bella by Barrett, D.J.
Duende by E. E. Ottoman
The Silver Kings by Stephen Deas
The Plot by Kathleen McCabe Lamarche
The Alarmists by Don Hoesel