Page 45 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

“No. I’m still me and Jim’s still Jim. We’re two jigsaw pieces that only fit together under force. And even under force, if you look carefully there’s a ridge between us.”

“Right.”

“But he’ll come and fix the flap right now if I call him.”

Stuart was about to suggest Tibby and Slowcoach went to live at Jim’s house instead but then realised that would mean Florence visiting her husband in order to check on the animals. That wouldn’t be good for her.

“Yeah, fine. Call him.” Now Stuart was torn between wanting to be absent when Jim came but also wanting to get the measure of the man who felt, inexplicably, like an opponent. A comparison wouldn’t come out in Stuart’s favour. “I think I’ll have an hour on my bike before it gets dark.”

He pulled on the Lycra in double quick time and was away before Jim arrived. This would be a good opportunity to start checking out the route he was planning for his first group ride as leader in January. It was silly to be worrying about it this far in advance but the thought of a dozen people looking to him for leadership made him wobble inside. ‘Fail to Prepare, Prepare to Fail’ ran around his head again.

As he pushed on the pedals to beat the gradients, he imagined the man Florence was married to. Taller than Stuart, broader shoulders, less grey hair, confident in his own skin, an experienced man of the world, excellent at DIY. Fighting the hill was like proving something about himself in comparison to Jim.

By the time he’d reached the summit his pace had slowed considerably, giving time to survey the countryside: the cornucopia of green shading, the meandering gentleness of a river, bright yellow patches of rape fields and the softer golds of cereal crops. This view always lifted his spirits and readjusted, at least temporarily, his perspective on life. Then he flew down the other side and onto steady flat pedalling, the release of the summit being replaced, unbidden, by the spectre of Jim.

My, you’re getting your knickers in a twist.Sandra butted into his mind.What’s with the inferiority complex?

On the flat he had enough breath to speak out loud. The wind snatched at his words but the act of speaking helped sort out his emotions. “It’s that confidence thing again. After all that time alone with Dad, how do I come across to other people? Is it wrong for me to want to appear an equal to anyone else? If I had more confidence, perhaps I’d have challenged the will and wouldn’t be in a mess now.”

Stop comparing and play to your own strengths.

If he had any strengths, he would. He crouched low over the handlebars and pedalled as hard as he could to generate the momentum to get him up the next hill. He stopped at the top to make a note on the map, wondering whether the gradient might be too much for the slower riders. Perhaps he should find a flatter way around. Longer but flatter might actually be quicker for the less experienced in the group.

When he got home, the cat flap was in and Jim was gone.

“Here, hold that dish of food just inside the flap and shout for Tibby. She’s in the garden and I want to get a photo of her coming through the cat flap to send to the children.”

Still in his Lycra, Stuart did as he was told, holding the flap open so the horrific smell of the cat food went outside. “Tibby! Tibby!” he called.

Florence was crouched just behind him with her phone at the ready.

Tibby shot through the hole, tipping the dish from Stuart’s hand. Taken by surprise, Stuart sat down heavily on the floor, knocking over the crouched Florence. They ended up in heap together with Tibby climbing over them to get to the spilled food.

“I think she knows how to use it,” Florence said, her breath warm on the back of Stuart’s neck.

For almost a full minute, neither of them chose to move. Stuart recognised the same joyful sparks as when he’d comforted his housemate following her previous London visit, when Shirley was still alive.

Then Florence’s hands electrified his chest and his shoulders as she used him as a prop to get herself upright. “I’ll get the mop out again.” She pointed to the scraps of food that had flown too far from the dish and Tibby had chosen to ignore. Her face was flushed and her voice wavery.

Shellshocked at their bodies’ reaction to the accidental collision, Stuart sat on the floor for a moment longer and then gave himself a shake.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The following day was Sunday and Florence announced she was going back home to talk to Jim. There was much to sort out about the children’s welfare and Shirley’s meagre estate. Jacob would join them via video call while his partner took the children to the park.

The opportunity of an empty house for the day was too good to miss and Stuart skipped the club ride to invite Jayne for lunch. He felt an urge to see her, a need to validate his feelings for her.

That’s sweet, bro. It’s true — absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

Stuart ignored her and called his girlfriend.

“Lunch would be lovely. Mum said you were brilliant while I was away. Thank you so much for that.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll have to bring her, if that’s OK? I’ve got one session a week at the day centre for her but the rest of the time she’s alone during the day when I’m at work. I can’t leave her at the weekend as well.”

Not perfect. But he agreed and crossed his fingers Lillian wouldn’t bring up the subject of marriage again. Stuart took them out to the patio to meet Slowcoach who was enjoying a lettuce leaf in the sunshine.

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