If You're Not the One (9 page)

What Could Have Been—Aidan

‘Someone here to see you love,' said Lindsay, the manageress of Red Peppers, the brasserie where Jennifer worked. The conspiratorial wink which accompanied this piece of information told Jennifer it was definitely Aidan. She confided in Lindsay a lot. The older lady was kind, always had time to listen and usually appreciated having a bit of gossip to think about other than what was happening at the restaurant. So last night, when things had quietened down at around ten o'clock, Jennifer had told Lindsay how Aidan was sulking with her and had been ever since she'd announced her intention to see her mum. Lindsay's advice had been concise and to the point: ‘Tell him to bog off and to stop being such a baby.'

‘Go on, you can have a quick ten minutes,' Lindsay said now, grabbing an apron ‘I'll cover for you. Have table nine had their wine?'

Jennifer went to the front of the restaurant where Aidan was indeed stood waiting for her, incongruous in his huge woolly cardigan and combat trousers. For a while now his hair had been slightly dreaded and not for the first time Jennifer wished he'd smarten up his act a bit. If he stopped dressing like some kind of crusty perhaps there'd be a sliver of a chance he could get himself some work? Funnily enough there wasn't a massive demand for middle-aged, pot-smoking surf dudes in Carlisle.

‘Is Nath at home?' she asked, exhausted to her very bones now that she'd stopped for a second.

‘He's next door, getting a drink from the newsagents.' On cue, Nathan appeared, clutching a can of Fanta.

‘All right, babe?' said Jennifer, pleased to see him. He was still in his uniform. ‘Has your dad given you some tea?'

Nathan nodded.

‘What did you have?'

‘We had egg didn't we?' answered Aidan on his behalf.

‘Shall I ask Lindsay if there's any spare banoffee?' said Jennifer, knowing it was his favourite and wishing she had more time to cook for her son. He was looking so tall. His body, which at one point had been quite scrawny, all arms and legs, was starting to fill out. He was sixteen and growing before her very eyes it seemed. Her beautiful boy was on the verge of becoming a man.

‘Banoffee would be ace if there is any,' Nathan said,
still boyish enough to get excited about his favourite dessert.

Jennifer gestured to Aidan to head out to the back of the restaurant while she got Nathan settled at one of the only spare tables with a huge slab of creamy pie.

‘There you go love, get that down you. Right, I'd better go and see what your dad wants.'

‘OK…oh, hang on a minute Mum, I've got something for you.'

Jennifer watched as her son stood up briefly again so he could get into the pockets of his trousers. He fished out a crumpled ten pound note and five pound coins and placed them on the table.

‘What's that for?' she asked, bemused.

‘It's for you,' Nathan said, sitting down again and making a start on his dessert, eyes practically rolling to the back of his head as he enjoyed his first hit of thick cream and toffee.

‘What's the money for, Nath?' repeated Jennifer.

‘I earned it the other night, didn't I? When I babysat. I want you to have it.'

‘Don't be silly,' she said immediately.

‘I'm not. You're always working in here and I know Dad hasn't done much lately. I just want to help out a bit.'

Jennifer swallowed, touched by her son's gesture; yet despairing that her boy was learning to be a man, not by example but as a result of his father's glaring uselessness. She was also deeply saddened that he'd picked up on how
much they were struggling. She went to give him a hug across the table.

‘Mum,' he protested, embarrassed by her public display of affection.

‘Sorry,' she said, grinning. ‘It's just I don't half love you, my precious, generous boy. And I don't want you worrying about money. We're fine.'

‘Pack it in,' said Nathan, smiling.

‘Right, I'd better go and see what Dad wants,' she said, wishing it was the end of the night so she could go home with them. It had been a busy lunchtime shift and the evening was shaping up to be the same, which was great in terms of tips but not so good for her aching feet.

Round the back of the restaurant, in the small courtyard, Jennifer breathed deeply. The fresh May evening air was good for the soul. Occasionally, when she could afford it, she liked to go to a yoga class in the church hall round the corner from the flat. The teacher, Kerry, was amazing. She was fifty years old with a figure most thirty-year-olds would be proud of, which she attributed entirely to daily yoga. Kerry had once told Jennifer that everyone had a finite amount of breaths to take during their lives, hence, if you could slow down your breathing and therefore your stress levels, you would live longer.

Whenever Jennifer remembered this and made the effort to become ‘aware of her breath' she was dismayed
to discover how sharp and quick her intake was. It was always a depressing reminder of the pace she was going at. She often worried that if she didn't slow down and her teacher's theory was correct, she might keel over any minute.

‘You all right?' asked Aidan, looking sheepish as she approached and flicking away the ends of a roll-up which he stamped out with his boot.

‘Yeah, what did you want to talk about? Has this got anything to do with Nath? I'm worried about him you know. He's not stupid. He can tell when things aren't right between us.'

‘Nath's fine. Come here, you,' he said, drawing her tense body in for a hug.

Ordinarily she would have enjoyed the comforting sensation of being encircled in his arms only right now she was too in need of a shower to relax into it properly. Red Peppers was a lovely restaurant but she'd be quite happy never to see a piece of deep fried camembert again as long as she lived. It was their most popular starter and the stench of fried cheese seemed to be ingrained into the fibres of every top she owned.

‘So anyway, I came to say that if you really want to see your mum, it's fine by me.'

‘That's good of you,' she said sarcastically.

‘Look, you have to remember that up until a week ago I thought we were on the same page as far as your parents were concerned, you know? I mean, you're the one
who used to get so fed up with their attitude and with how judgemental they were.'

Jennifer shrugged. She couldn't agree or disagree because if she were being totally honest, she couldn't really remember how things had managed to get as bad as they had. She also wasn't sure she really cared any more either. All she did know was that she had a family, and that many moons ago she also used to have good, good friends, better ones than she'd ever made since. Only the other day she'd looked up Karen on reUNIon. It hadn't taken long to find her at which point she'd written her prediction of what she'd thought she'd be up to now. She'd written that she thought she'd be happy, married, possibly with a couple of kids and no doubt in some high-powered impressive job, living the high life. She was still waiting to hear back though, and if her old friend did ever make the effort to respond, she wasn't sure she'd be brave enough to read what Karen had predicted for her.

After all this time she still missed her. She missed all her old friends, in fact, but not as much as she missed the feeling of belonging. Furthermore, these days she was starting to think she might need, or maybe just want, more in her life than she had at the moment. Hence the reflexology course. She'd given up a lot to be with Aidan and knew she was in danger of growing bitter if she didn't take charge of her own destiny a bit more because if she was being honest to the point of being brutal, she wasn't totally one hundred percent sure he'd been worth it.

It hadn't mattered how many times she'd tried to stick up for him, or had tried to explain that actually, dabbling with a bit of marijuana hardly made him an evil drug baron, it had been a pointless task. Her parents were the kind of people who considered all drugs to be inherently dangerous and wrong. Full stop. Worse still, what they really couldn't get their heads around was why he would have taken such a risk when he was responsible for their only daughter.

At the time Jennifer had refused to even consider that they may have had a point for if she had, she would have also been admitting to herself and everybody else that she'd made a mistake. A huge, life-changing mistake.

She regarded Aidan now. Her man. He was so bloody useless and yet there was something about him which still, after all these years, she was drawn to, and whatever it was, it was a force to be reckoned with. She stepped towards him and held his face in her hands, looking up at him as she had a thousand times before.

‘It's fine, let's forget about it. I'm just pleased you're cool about me seeing her.'

They hugged and as they did Jennifer buried her face deep into Aidan's side. As ever she drew comfort from the physical sensation of being held and used it as a balm to soothe her sad, troubled soul. This felt normal to her, but what she didn't realise was that she'd forgotten what it was to feel truly happy.

June 2004

‘I'm knackered,' declared Jennifer, flopping backwards onto the huge bed and instantly disappearing in a cloud of tulle, satin and net. The net at the bottom of the dress was no longer white but grey from where it had trailed along the ground all day.

‘Tiring business getting married,' agreed Max from the other side of the room, ‘but did we have the best wedding or what?'

‘By miles,' said Jennifer contentedly, stretching her arms above her head and then swiping them up and down, enjoying the feel of the luxurious damask she was lying on.

‘You look like a snow angel,' said Max, swaying by the mini bar as he tried to fix them both a drink.

‘You look like a handsome movie star,' said Jennifer, feeling totally drained yet exquisitely happy that after a long year of planning it was all over, it had gone well and they were finally alone. The two of them. Mr and Mrs Wright.

‘You're my wife,' Max stated.

‘You're pissed. You're my pissed husband.'

‘You're sexy, give us a flash of your knickers.'

Jennifer acquiesced.

‘Ooh that is sexy.'

‘Stop making drinks and come here, you big lug.'

Max seemed more than happy enough to go along with that. Getting the tops off various bottles was proving too much effort anyway. He weaved his way across the room and flopped down beside her on the bed, turning onto his side so he could stare into her eyes. ‘Is this the bit where I'm supposed to make mad, passionate love to you?'

Jennifer wrinkled up her nose, not wanting to be unromantic but at the same time not in the mood to pretend. ‘To be honest I'm quite happy just lying here for a bit. This corset's bloody killing me and actually…'

‘Go on…'

‘I am absolutely starving. Do you think they're still doing room service?'

‘Er, didn't we just pay for a three course dinner and evening buffet?' said Max, twiddling a lock of her hair idly between two fingers.

‘Yeah and I hardly ate any of it,' admitted Jennifer.

‘Well, in that case, my beautiful bride must have some chips.'

Max heaved himself into an upright position and reached for the phone.

‘Yes,' said Jennifer punching the air. ‘Chuck a burger in while you're at it. Cheeseburger please.'

‘And they say romance is dead,' he quipped, shaking his head as he proceeded to place their order. Cheeseburger and chips for two.

When he'd finished, the two of them lay on the bed, both in their own world, quietly reliving parts of the day until Jennifer said, ‘I loved the part in your speech when you said you'd never met anyone who loved celebrating birthdays as much as me, and that you'd see to it forevermore that mine would always be celebrated properly.'

‘I meant it. I've never forgotten that little speech you gave about birthdays when we met. It was sweet. Slightly weird, but mainly sweet. What other part was your favourite?'

‘This is my favourite part,' she laughed, reaching across to grab a certain bit of his anatomy.

Max grinned ‘That's another reason why I love you. You're terrible. Ooh, hang on a minute, I've just remembered I've got something for you.'

‘Oh no! You haven't have you?' Jennifer sat up, looking worried. They'd made a pact not to buy each other presents, having gone way over budget on the wedding as it was. She for one had adhered to it so now felt dreadful.

‘Don't panic, it's only something silly,' said Max, who had got up and was now scrabbling around in his suitcase.
Eventually he found what he was looking for, a beautifully wrapped, rectangular shaped present.

‘Oh my god, thank you so much,' said Jennifer.

‘Open it then.'

Jennifer pulled off the velvet ribbon which was tied around it and pulled away the paper to reveal a smart blue box. She took off the lid. Inside was a photo frame, face down so she could only see the back. ‘Oh baby, how lovely. A frame! We can put a wedding photo in it.'

Max shook his head ‘There's already a photo in it. Turn it over.'

Jennifer prised the frame out of the box and turned it round. When she saw what picture he'd chosen, she felt instantly sentimental but also a bit confused. ‘It's me.'

‘Certainly is.'

‘In my pink dress.'

‘Yup,' said Max.

‘On the night we met.'

Max nodded.

‘In a photo which was taken by my ex?'

This was the bit Jennifer didn't really get.

‘It is indeed.'

She studied the photo for a while. She looked so carefree and even she had to admit, quite sexy. Her younger self was gazing straight down the lens, her hair an unruly mane tumbling around her shoulders, her eyes full of promise and mischief. It was just slightly disconcerting
knowing that the person she was staring at in such an uninhibited way wasn't Max, but ex-boyfriend Steve.

‘So, why this one? It's so dog-eared. Shouldn't we keep one of us together in it?'

‘No.'

‘But…'

‘No buts,' said Max, sitting down next to her on the bed again. ‘I chose that one for a reason. I love that photo. Always have. Apart from anything else, it's a reminder that I should never take you for granted because no matter how long we're together, how married we are, or how old we get, you will always be that incredible girl in the picture. That girl who I spied at the party, wearing that sexy pink dress, who made my stomach flip. And yes, someone else did take the picture, someone else who loved you because you're bloody easy to fall in love with, which is yet another reason for me to always look after and treat you as you deserve. Look at you. You're so beautiful. Sometimes I still can't believe you're with me. I never want to stop feeling as lucky as I did back then and as lucky as I do today that you're mine.'

Jennifer had to look up to quell the tears that by now were threatening to glide down her cheeks. She thought her heart might burst with love and she leaned forward and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. ‘That's so lovely. Thank you so much, baby. I love you so bloody much.'

‘I love you too.'

‘And I promise we'll have sex tomorrow.'

‘Come here, silly,' said Max, signalling to her to lie down and tuck in at which point he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Minutes later his hold on her slackened and Jennifer realised he'd fallen asleep. Right on cue there was a knock at the door. Oh well, she thought. Two burgers for her then.

Half an hour later Jennifer was stuffed to the brim and Max was still passed out, fully clothed and snoring like a walrus. From time to time she glanced back at the picture of herself which she'd placed on the bedside table. She marvelled at how happy she was and how loved she felt and, as Max continued to snore noisily away beside her, her heart expanded with emotion. He was right of course, she had chosen him and she was glad, for nobody who'd come before had ever suited her quite like he did and no one ever would. How amazing it was to feel so utterly sure.