A Vintage Wedding (43 page)

The sister was waiting for them when they arrived. It was Mrs Haslam, someone Lindy had known a long time herself, and Lindy found it hard not to cry all over her, such was the comfort in seeing a familiar face.

‘Well, young man, what’s happened to you? Being just a bit too tough, I imagine,’ said the sister. ‘You young soldiers, always flinging yourselves around as if you’re Bear Grylls.’

Edward took all the credit. ‘That’s right! Ned’s a little toughie, aren’t you, son?’

Although deeply annoyed by this comment, Lindy was very grateful to Mrs Haslam – Sue. Ned adored Bear Grylls and she could have hugged her for somehow knowing that.

‘Let’s get you where we can see what’s what.’ She pulled out a wheelchair. ‘Ever been in one of these before?’

‘No,’ said Ned.

‘Hop in then. Time for a ride.’

‘I’m sure he can walk!’ said Edward.

‘I’m sure he can,’ agreed Sue, ‘but he’s looking very pale and we don’t want him vomiting on my clean floor. Or at least I don’t.’

‘I’ll get us some hot drinks out of the machine,’ said Angus. ‘Ned doesn’t need all of us with him.’

Lindy felt that personally she did need ‘all of us’ if it included Angus, but couldn’t really say that. Edward was being so unsympathetic. He might have been an awful father but he did love his kids. Why couldn’t he be a bit more sensitive? She realised it was quite likely guilt.

‘So, how did this happen, young man?’ asked the sister.

Ned looked at his father. ‘We were playing in the tree house.’

‘I’ve built them a tree house at my brother’s place. Me and his mother’ – he glanced at Lindy – ‘aren’t together any more, sadly, and I wanted to make our times together meaningful.’

God, thought Lindy, he sounds like something out of a ‘How to be a good dad even though you don’t live with Mum any more’ pamphlet.

‘So, what happened, darling?’ said Lindy, kneeling so she could hear the subtext. By now, given Edward’s attitude, she was worried there was one.

‘Daddy said I should jump down and not use the ladder. Ladders were for wusses.’ Ned was whispering and not making eye contact. Lindy knew he was speaking the truth.

‘Is that true, Edward?’ she demanded, seeing him about to bluster and deny it.

‘Well, of course, Ned got it a bit wrong. I didn’t say—’

‘Did you actually say ladders are for wusses?’

He thought about this. ‘I might have done. But for God’s sake! I didn’t ask him to jump down and fall on his arm!’

‘OK, this is no time to play the blame game,’ said Sue. ‘Now, would you mind if it was just Mum with him? Better not to have too many people.’

Edward walked out without a word. Lindy was fuming. She’d begun to suspect he had had something to do with Ned’s accident; now it was confirmed.

‘You’re a very lucky young man,’ said the doctor after what seemed like hours of painkillers, X-rays, checks and, finally, a visit from the plasterer for a cast.

‘It’s a minor fracture and should heal fairly quickly. You’ll visit the fracture clinic and we’ll keep an eye on what’s going on in there. Keep giving the painkillers as he needs them, Mum. We’ll send over the appointment shortly.’

Usually Lindy hated being called Mum by people who weren’t her children but the doctor had been so wonderful with Ned she’d have forgiven him anything.

After thanking everyone profusely she and Ned finally found Angus. Edward wasn’t there.

‘Edward took a taxi back to my place. I’m taking you home,’ said Angus. ‘I took the liberty of ringing Sarah and said you’d call the moment you and Ned were out.’

‘Thank you so much. What time is it? We seem to have been here for ever.’

‘About nine.’

‘I’ll just ring Mum.’

Sarah told her that Billy had fallen asleep on the sofa and that she was going to take him back to her house and keep him there. Edward was heading up to see his parents a little earlier than planned – he felt he wasn’t really needed any more, Lindy was so much better at these things. He was deserting them again, the moment he knew there would be no more fun and games in the tree house, Lindy thought resentfully, although a part of her was quite glad. And felt very relieved now she knew that both her boys were safe and happy. ‘Now let’s get you back. How does that feel now, Ned?’

‘It doesn’t hurt any more. But maybe that’s the pills.’

‘And we’ve got more if you need them, Ned, so it’ll be fine.’

‘I’m starving, Mum,’ said Ned. ‘Can I eat now?’

‘Fish and chips on the way home?’ said Angus. ‘Come on.’

It was while Lindy was waiting in the car with Ned for Angus to emerge with their supper that her phone pinged. It was from Vivien.

Don’t forget I’m picking you up tomorrow at 4.30 a.m. Stupid o’clock I know! Vivien X
.

Of course, she had completely forgotten and realised she’d have to cancel. Her son had broken his arm. Originally the boys would have been staying with their father so stealing out of the house at ‘stupid o’clock’ would have been no problem. Now she’d need to find a babysitter and while her grandmother would probably step in, it would mean taking Ned over there now and she felt he needed his mother. She suffered a familiar pang of guilt for the amount of childcare her mother and grandmother did.

But should she see if Beth or Rachel could go instead? Then she remembered that they were on chopping and peeling duty for Belinda. They were going to have to hire ovens and hotplates for the do but, Rachel had said, it was a lot easier than trying to produce a hot meal out of the village-hall kitchen: Vivien had declared it a ‘kitchenette’ and made quite clear her opinion of those.

Lindy realised she was thinking about other things to avoid the problem in front of her. Vivien would have to go alone and she would have to tell her.

She had just started with
So sorry, my son has had a fall and broken his arm
when Angus came back and dumped three hot parcels on her lap. ‘Problem?’ he said, seeing Lindy’s anxious expression. ‘You OK, Ned?’

‘I’m fine,’ said Ned, and he did seem to be.

‘I’ve just had a text from Vivien. I’d completely forgotten I was supposed to go to Birmingham flower market with her tomorrow. I was just composing my text. I hate to disappoint her, but also I was really looking forward to going.’

He started the car. ‘Don’t do it yet. Wait until we get home. It’s hell trying to text people in a moving vehicle.’

‘True. And if she answers immediately I’ll feel obliged to reply and get a bit car sick doing it.’

‘If you need to cancel, I’m sure she’ll understand,’ said Angus and they set off.

Once home, Lindy couldn’t help being pleased about the cleaning and tidying she had done when she was in such a state, waiting for Angus to pick her up with Ned. It was a shame one could only work at that pace when in a state of high anxiety.

Soon the three of them were sitting cosily round the kitchen table eating fish and chips, Ned doing his best with one hand. Lindy said, ‘I must sort out Vivien. Tell her I can’t come. She probably won’t mind going on her own. She’ll need help to carry the stuff but I’m sure she’ll snap her fingers and a porter will appear!’ She dipped a chip into tomato ketchup. ‘I can go to the flower market another time, of course, but somehow it’s not the sort of thing you organise unless there’s a really good reason or someone pushes you into doing it.’

‘Why can’t you go, Mummy?’ asked Ned.

Lindy ruffled his hair, touched by his concern about her missing out on a treat. ‘Because someone needs to stay here and look after you. I’d be going too early in the morning for Gran to come. Or Sarah.’

‘Why can’t Uncle Angus look after me? Billy’s at Gran’s so it would be just me.’

‘Darling! Uncle Angus has to work tomorrow!’

‘Actually, Uncle Angus hasn’t got much on. I could work here.’

‘Really? You could work in my house?’

‘Well, don’t sound so surprised. You have a table and an internet connection so I can pick up emails? Actually your house would be easier to work in. I won’t get distracted by wondering what the builders are doing. Not that they would have been anywhere near where the boys would be, it’s perfectly safe …’

Luckily Lindy was too distracted to worry about such things, even if Billy were still at the house.

‘If you’re absolutely sure,’ she said. ‘And, Ned, you wouldn’t mind?’

‘I’d like it,’ said Ned.

Angus seemed flattered. ‘Well, that’s settled then.’ He paused. ‘I would have to stay the night though. I don’t fancy setting my alarm for three a.m.’

‘Would you really do that? That is so kind. And are you sure you’d be happy, Ned? I could get Gran to come over in the morning. You’ll probably be asleep most of the time.’ She paused. ‘It’s really very sweet of you chaps to make it so I can have my treat.’

‘That’s all right, Mummy,’ said Ned. ‘Mummies deserve treats too.’

As this was a direct quote from her, Lindy could hardly argue!

Relief that there seemed to be such an easy solution to her problem made her ridiculously happy. Or was it the prospect of Angus staying the night?

Angus had popped out to the pub to buy a bottle of wine while Lindy was on the phone updating her mother and grandmother about what was going on.

‘Do you think it’s all right to have wine?’ asked Lindy, eyeing the bottle longingly. Ned was asleep, propped up with pillows to support his arm. ‘I’m just thinking: if there was an emergency with Ned, I’d need to be able to think clearly.’

‘There won’t be an emergency with Ned,’ said Angus firmly. ‘But you do have to be up horribly early, so I’d stick to one glass. I won’t have any in case there is, actually, an emergency and I have to drive.’

‘You’re a very responsible person,’ said Lindy, accepting the glass he handed to her. ‘I’m very grateful.’

‘That doesn’t make me sound terribly exciting,’ Angus laughed.

‘Sometimes exciting is a bad thing,’ said Lindy, thinking that, actually, he was exciting in all the right ways.

‘I suppose it’s because I’m the eldest. I was always in charge. Edward had more licence to run around and be silly. He’s not a bad father, you know, but he doesn’t get much practice. And his girlfriend, who teaches eleven-year-olds, seems to have given him unreasonable expectations.’ His smile was rueful. ‘I could see he was egging Ned on to be more and more reckless and knew it would end in tears, to use an old cliché. But I couldn’t see how to stop it, apart from muttering to Edward.’

‘Muttering doesn’t work with Edward. Hitting him over the head with a shovel might have done the trick. But you couldn’t have really done that.’

‘Not in front of the boys, anyway,’ Angus agreed. ‘Such a bad example.’

Lindy put out her hand and held his wrist. She was suffering from both extreme shyness and a sense of total intimacy. She felt at once completely safe with him and too nervous to say a word of how she felt. To her embarrassment, she yawned, deeply.

‘Bedtime,’ said Angus. ‘You’ve got a very early start.’

There was quite a lot of argument about who should sleep where. Lindy won. She was going to sleep in Billy’s bed so she could keep an ear open for Ned. Angus felt she should have her usual bed because she’d sleep better. Lindy found him a new toothbrush and there was a lot of embarrassing ‘you go first’ regarding the bathroom.

At no point through all this slightly awkward time did Angus make any attempt to kiss her goodnight or anything. It was as if they had never shared that cosy, lovely evening that had ended up in Lindy’s bed. Lindy half liked him for not assuming they would just go to bed together, and half felt miffed because he didn’t.

She accepted there were lots of reasons for it – most of them perfectly rational. They were being more like parents because of Ned’s accident; she had to get up at four in the morning; the whole evening was just different.

But as she lay in Billy’s little bed, snuggled up to a dinosaur, the room lit by a Buzz Lightyear night light, she felt a bit lonely. She’d been through a worrying time; she wanted to feel Angus’s safe, warm arms around her, to take away the stress. But she wasn’t going to be the one to initiate anything. She’d done it before and had suffered the embarrassment. She was not doing it again. Although it was nice to think of Angus asleep in her bed next door. She might soon find out if he snored or not.

She couldn’t get to sleep. She knew it was because she had to get up early. Her phone alarm was set so all should be well, but she couldn’t get off.

When she’d been through all the names of the children in her first year at primary school she decided she had to something more about it. There were some painkillers in the bathroom; she could even steal a couple of Ned’s – he now had loads. That’s what she’d do. She’d make hot milk to take it with and she’d be off in seconds.

She tiptoed about, not wanting to disturb Angus, opening the childproof medicine as quietly as she could and then dropping the Calpol into the basin with a clatter that would have woken Sleeping Beauty.

Then, without letting herself think about what she was doing she went into her bedroom and hovered in the doorway.

Angus turned. He obviously hadn’t been asleep either.

‘I can’t sleep,’ said Lindy. ‘Can I get into your bed?’

He flipped the duvet back. ‘You absolutely can. I thought you’d never ask!’

Lindy’s phone alarm must have woken Ned, which was just as well as she hadn’t heard it. He came into the bedroom and switched on the light. ‘Oh. Hello, Uncle Angus.’

Lindy and Angus blinked in the sudden light.

‘So, are you going to sleep in Mummy’s bed all the time now? Or just sometimes?’

Angus cleared his throat. ‘Just sometimes. If that’s all right with Mummy.’

Lindy tried to clear her head. ‘Fine. Yes. I think that will be absolutely fine.’

‘Cool,’ said Ned. ‘As long as me and Billy can get in too if we have a nightmare.’

‘Of course!’ said Lindy. ‘You can always get in.’

‘But we might need a slightly bigger bed,’ said Angus.