Summer of Love (44 page)

‘Oh, he did stay,’ said Rory, who had inconveniently good hearing. ‘He was there at breakfast.’

‘Right,’ said Gus, and pointed the car for home.

Although the back door was unlocked and there were two cars in the drive, the house seemed to be empty. Sian physically prevented Gus from going upstairs to look for his mother by needing his arm to get Rory a snack. She knew Fiona wouldn’t mind and it would help distract Gus.

‘Oh, I’ll do it,’ said Gus. ‘Rory, Sian, sit down and I’ll see what I can find.’

‘There are biscuits,’ said Rory. ‘In that tin.’ He pointed to the cupboard beside the one Gus was now peering into.

‘Maybe you should have something a little healthier?’ suggested Sian. ‘Biscuits afterwards?’ As she wasn’t in her house and couldn’t walk, she didn’t have her usual authority.

‘Yes, mate,’ said Gus, looking into the fridge. ‘How about I make you a monster sandwich? Three layers? One of my special BLTs?’

Rory frowned, probably wanting to ask what a BLT was but not wanting to reveal his ignorance. Sian helped him out. ‘Is there bacon, lettuce and tomato in the fridge, Gus?’

‘Have you ever known there to be less than an entire supermarket in my mother’s fridge?’ he said.

‘In which case, can I have one too?’

The bacon was beginning to sizzle and Sian was cutting bread for toast when they heard Fiona’s laugh followed by a male voice. A second later she appeared in the kitchen looking decidedly rumpled with her cardigan buttons done up wrong. Behind her came James who was dressed in trousers and a shirt that was unbuttoned rather far down.

‘Oh hi!’ said Sian quickly, noticing that in spite of her untidiness, Fiona was looking amazing, as if she’d just had a facial or something. ‘We’re raiding the fridge, I’m afraid. Gus is making me and Rory BLTs.’

‘We came down – we were coming for tea,’ said Fiona, sounding apologetic and caught out. ‘But I’m so glad to see you. I can’t wait to hear how you got on with the publishers yesterday. And Sian! Your poor ankle! Is it very painful?’

Possibly unnerved by the sight of her son wielding a fish slice in a faintly threatening manner, Fiona seemed slightly breathless.

Feeling amused but helpless, Sian did her best to make it look as if there was nothing on earth wrong or strange about Fiona appearing in her kitchen in the middle of the afternoon looking as if she’d just got out of bed. It was her kitchen, after all. ‘It’s fine if I don’t put weight on it. I don’t think it’s serious,’ Sian said. It was dawning on her that if Fiona hadn’t realised they were there, then her bedroom probably looked just as rumpled as Fiona herself did. And going on how Gus had reacted to the news that James had stayed the night, it was likely he’d be far from pleased to walk past his mother’s room to find the bed unmade.

‘So what were you two doing when we arrived? The house was deserted,’ asked Gus, sounding suspicious.

Sian’s instincts seemed to be spot on.

‘We were upstairs …’ Fiona started vaguely.

‘I was helping your mother sort out something in her bedroom,’ said James calmly, but not very helpfully, and with no hint of a guilty conscience.

Sian gulped, frantically trying to think of a way to rescue her friend without seeming completely mad. ‘Oh yes!’ she said quickly. ‘That dodgy hinge on your wardrobe! I remember you telling me about it. You couldn’t do it yourself without a ladder or a tall man.’

‘You should have asked me, Mum. I’d have done it,’ said Gus, frowning at the bacon.

‘I expect she did, Gus,’ said Sian. ‘But you probably forgot.’

Fiona’s eyes sparkled with laughter as she hid her smile behind her hand. ‘That’s right! Men, eh? What are they good for?’

‘Excuse me,’ said James, appearing hurt, ‘I did fix the dodgy, um, thing …’

‘Hinge,’ Sian provided.

‘I really don’t remember you asking me, but you could have asked again.’ Gus now had the bread knife and as he hunted round for a bread board, looked a little dangerous.

‘James has done it now,’ said Fiona, ‘so no need for you to worry. Now do tell me, how did you get on in London? I’ve been on tenterhooks. If James hadn’t come round—’ She stopped suddenly.

‘To fix the hinge and help you look after Rory,’ Sian put in, beginning to feel like a prompt in the wings at a play put on by the local am dram troupe.

‘Oh come on! Rory’s not that hard to look after!’ said Gus, slapping bread into the toaster.

‘No I’m not,’ said Rory, and all the adults looked at him as if they’d forgotten he was there.

‘Of course not, darling,’ said Sian. ‘But it’s nice to have company, isn’t it?’

‘Is it too early for a glass of wine?’ said Fiona, to no one in particular.

Sian wanted to giggle. It was so wonderfully ironic that Gus was being very much the same with James as her father had been with him: the nearest to hostile he could be without being rude. And with just as little reason.

‘Far too early for wine, Mum.’ Gus pointed to the table. ‘Why don’t you sit down. I’m going to make tea. You too, James,’ he added grudgingly.

They pulled out chairs and sat down although Sian could tell by the way she was fidgeting that Fiona had just made exactly the same leap Sian had a couple of minutes earlier; she’d realised that there was plenty of evidence in her bedroom that they’d been doing something more exciting than fixing a hinge, and was desperate to get out of the room. She kept giving the door furtive, longing glances.

‘So, Rory,’ said Sian, still trying to think of ways to help Fiona. ‘Did you miss me?’

‘No,’ said Rory, in an ‘as if’ kind of way.

‘We played chess,’ said James. ‘It was fun, wasn’t it, Rory?’

‘Yes. I like the knights best,’ he said to Sian.

‘So do I, because they look like horses,’ said Sian.

‘That’s what Fona said,’ said Rory.

‘Oh, Fona – Fiona,’ Sian interrupted, having a brainwave, ‘you couldn’t be a love and lend me a cardigan, could you? I’m a bit chilly.’

‘You can’t be cold,’ said Gus, ‘it’s really warm.’

‘Yes, but for some reason I feel chilly,’ said Sian, wishing she’d had a better idea. ‘It’s to do with being injured.’

‘I’ll get you a sweater,’ said Gus, heading towards the door.

‘No!’ said Sian. ‘You’re cooking. I’ll be fine.’

‘Well, make up your mind!’ said Gus, hovering. ‘I can easily run upstairs.’

‘Or I could get you a scarf,’ suggested Fiona, standing up to block Gus’s route to the door, probably annoyed with herself for not reacting to the prompt earlier. ‘If you don’t need a sweater …’

‘Oh, don’t rush off, Mum, we’ve got some news!’

‘Brilliant! Can I guess what it is?’ asked Fiona.

‘Well, let’s get this sandwich made first,’ said Gus.

‘I could get Sian a scarf while we’re waiting,’ Fiona tried. She was looking rather desperate now.

‘I’m sure Sian will be fine once she’s had a cup of tea. It’s just on its way.’

‘So tell us, what’s this news?’ asked Fiona, apparently giving up trying to find excuses to leave the room.

‘Sian was brilliant at the publishers,’ said Gus, putting down a plate in front of Rory. ‘She swooped in and saved the day.’

‘Like Superman?’ asked Rory, looking slightly daunted by the size of his sandwich.

‘Very like,’ said Gus, ‘only of course she had her tights on over her knickers, not the other way around.’

‘How do you know?’ asked Fiona. It seemed she wanted to get her own back on her son.

‘Presumably it was all hidden under her cape,’ said James, for Rory’s benefit.

‘I wasn’t wearing my cape as I went in my everyday persona as Sian, mother and illustrator. And I didn’t do much really.’ Sian stole a bit of lettuce that had fallen on to Rory’s plate.

‘You totally saved the day,’ said Gus. He kissed the top of her head. ‘My agent, Rollo, said so.’

Sian blushed, embarrassed by his public display of affection, although she wasn’t sure why.

‘Gus, you kissed Mummy,’ said Rory.

‘Yeah, mate,’ said Gus. ‘She’s my girlfriend now. And we’re going to live together. We discussed it.’

‘Did you?’ said Fiona, clapping her hands. ‘How lovely! I knew you were right for each other. This is wonderful news.’

‘But you’re my dad?’ went on Rory, unaffected by Fiona’s enthusiasm.

‘The two things are not mutually exclusive,’ said Gus. ‘Which means I can be both your dad and your mum’s boyfriend.’

‘You are clever, darling,’ Fiona said, patting her son’s hand. ‘Who says men can’t multi-task?’

Gus looked at Sian. ‘When you’ve eaten your sandwich, we could go up and look at where we might all live together – until we get a house, anyway.’

Sian intercepted a stricken glance between Fiona and James and realised she had to try once more to save her.

‘It’s so kind of you to let Gus alter your house so we can live here,’ she said quickly. ‘I can’t wait to see it. Is all the decorating done and everything?’ She didn’t want to remind Gus that she’d seen it already even though he knew. She also wanted to save Fiona from huge embarrassment. The cardigan tack had failed, she had to think of something else.

‘Not quite,’ said Gus. ‘Just a couple of walls not painted yet.’

‘Oh!’ said Sian, having had a lightbulb moment. ‘I’d love to choose some colours. Fiona, do you remember you said you had a paint chart for Farrow and Ball?’

She glared at her friend, willing her to pick up that this was her chance to get out of the room.

‘You don’t need to worry about that now!’ said Gus. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

‘No!’ squeaked Sian. ‘I mean, I’d love to have the paint chart with me. I can’t just run down and get it.’

‘The paint chart?’ said Fiona, aware that Sian was trying to help but not immediately understanding how.

‘Yes. You said it was in your bedroom, in your bedside table. Do you remember? We were having a chat about bedtime reading and you said it was cookery books and paint charts. You said you had a Farrow and Ball one.’

There was the risk that the man of her dreams and the father of her child would think she’d gone completely mad but she was doing her best for her friend.

‘Bedside table!’ Fiona jumped her feet, her reactions possibly sharpened by guilt. ‘Oh yes! I’ll go and look!’ And she ran from the room before anyone could think of any reason why she shouldn’t go.

‘And, Gus, is the second batch of bacon burning? I think I can smell it,’ Sian said.

‘Oh.’ Gus returned to his frying pan.

Sian and James regarded each other as Rory manfully bit into his sandwich, spilling bits of tomato and mayonnaise as he did so.

Very soon afterwards Fiona came back in. Her hair was brushed and lipstick reapplied. ‘Sorry, Sian, I couldn’t find the colour chart, but I brought you a scarf and a cardigan in case you really were cold.’

Sian put on the cardigan and decided she was glad to have it. ‘I’ve just realised. I’ll never get up all those stairs with my bad ankle.’ She sighed, feeling wistful.

‘What’s the problem? I’ll carry you up!’ said Gus and then looked at the pan full of bacon.

‘Let me take over there,’ said James.

In that second, Gus decided to accept James as part of his mother’s life. He seemed to realise he was being ridiculous and that his mother had a right to see whomever she liked. ‘Thanks,’ he said, handing James the spatula. ‘I want to take my girl and my son up to the attic.’

Sian protested, laughing, as he swept her up, carried her out of the room and started up the stairs. ‘Rory, you go ahead,’ he said to his son.

‘You’ll put your back out,’ Sian said, giggling helplessly.

‘I’ll take the chance.’

Rory ran ahead. ‘Is this my room?’ he said, running back from the ship’s cabin room with the round window. ‘Can it be?’

‘Course it’s your room,’ said Gus. ‘No girl would want to sleep in there.’

In and out of the rooms he ran, delighting in the way the space had made a double bedroom for his parents, a sitting room and a place to make bedtime hot chocolate.

Sian was equally delighted as Gus carried her around. She’d forgotten or not noticed so many details. When Fiona had shown it to her she’d been rushed and distraught.

‘Actually, I think I’m going to have to put you down,’ said Gus.

‘Oh, OK.’ She tried not to wince as he dumped her on the double bed.

‘What are you doing?’ Rory was indignant at seeing his mother lying on the bed, his father panting slightly next to her.

‘Having a rest. Your mum’s no feather.’

‘Cheek!’

Rory ran off, bored with his parents and probably remembering the traffic-light biscuits.

A little while later he came up again. ‘You’ve got to come down now. Fona and James have opened some champagne.’ He frowned. ‘I said you were having a rest and they laughed!’

‘You two don’t look as if you need champagne,’ said Fiona as Gus and Sian found them in the conservatory. ‘But we’ve opened the bottle so you have to have some.’

‘James is like a grandfather,’ stated Rory, who was drinking something from a champagne flute that Sian assumed was elderflower. ‘We discussed it,’ he added importantly.

‘I’m honoured,’ said James.

Gus stood there silently, possibly working out the permutations of this, until Fiona interrupted his thoughts. ‘Actually, darling,’ she said to him, ‘you’d better look at your phone. It rang.’ She handed it to Gus.

‘You didn’t answer it, Mum?’ He took the phone and pressed buttons.

‘Of course not.’ She sat down and accepted a glass from James, who then handed one to Sian. ‘That would be like opening your exam results.’

‘Maybe you’d better take it outside?’ said Sian. ‘I can’t bear this sort of suspense.’

‘It’s probably just his phone company offering him an upgrade,’ said James with a twinkle. ‘No need to worry.’

Only Rory was unaffected. Having finished his drink he ran out into the garden and turned himself into an aeroplane. The others sat and sipped nervously.

‘We should have waited to see if we should have had a toast,’ said Fiona, ‘but I’m afraid I’ve started mine already.’

‘Me too,’ said Sian.

‘There’s another bottle,’ said James.

‘And that’s why I love you!’ said Fiona. And then she blushed.