Page 70 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

“The kiddies love that cat.” Jim’s head disappeared into the back of the van. Stuart couldn’t see his face but the catch in the drummer’s voice was obvious.

The antagonism had evaporated. Stuart stepped forward and put a hand on Florence’s husband’s shoulder. “No problem. I can hang on to Tibby for a bit longer.”

Nothing had been resolved but it felt better than drawing a big thick line. He’d done the only thing a friend could do.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Stuart was having lunch with Lillian the next day when Jayne made a surprise appearance.

“Hello, Mum.” She kissed the old lady on the cheek and helped herself to a bite of one of her cheese sandwiches.

“What are you doing here, love? Stuart and I were just wondering whether to open a tin of peaches for pudding.” Stuart caught the smile Lillian threw at him. It was immensely satisfying to add pleasure to the long, uniform days of old age.

He jumped up and squeezed Jayne’s hand. “I’ll make you a sandwich first. Have you got long?”

Jayne followed him into the kitchen. “About twenty minutes. I’m on my lunch hour and the traffic’s heavy.”

There was just enough cheese left for a third sandwich.

“Kiss me!” She took the knife from his hand and put it on the chopping board. “Properly.”

Her kiss was determined and demanding, as though she wanted something from him that she couldn’t put into words. She held him tight and he gladly reciprocated. He wanted some peaceful normality after a sleepless night spent worrying about Florence.

“I’ll help you with those peaches.” Lillian was suddenly beside them with an empty sandwich plate in her hand. “Oh. Sorry. I’m interrupting.”

“Mum!”

“I said sorry. But it is nice to see young love. Can I expect to have to buy a new hat soon?” She winked at Stuart and went back towards the lounge.

Jayne looked at him expectantly.

“What?” Her expression was difficult to read.

“I came home because I wanted to know how you got on with Florence last night. When is she going to collect the cat so we can get on with the rest of our lives?”

“I spoke to her husband. She’s down in London with the grandchildren. I need to hang on to Tibby for a bit longer.”

A shadow settled on Jayne’s face for a few seconds and then her expression brightened. “You could still move in and just nip back to feed the cat. And send Florence an ultimatum, in writing. I can draft you a letter. A legal letter.”

“I . . .” There was no argument against Jayne’s idea. He should be happy. Stuart desperately wanted that happiness to run through him and put a smile on his face. It didn’t.

“We could even . . . This isn’t my job and I don’t want to spoil it if you’ve got something planned but we’re not spring chickens . . .”

There was a silence. Stuart knew the words she wanted him to say. The knowledge started a whirlwind in his mind. She looked vulnerable. He wanted the same thing. Eventually. There was hope in her eyes. Life was so much better when there was someone to share it. She’d helped him back to life over the last seven months. He liked her. No, he loved her. They fitted together. Jayne deserved happiness. He’d grown up emotionally over the last few months and now he was man enough to do this. There was no reason why they couldn’t have a bright new future together.

He put a finger over her lips. “Don’t take the words out of my mouth.”

She smiled. Her eyes sparkled.

Stuart went down on one knee. “Jayne, please will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She jumped around the room with excitement.

Stuart levered himself back to standing with the aid of a kitchen chair, amazed and flattered that he could have this effect on someone. Jayne enveloped him in a hug and then took him by the hand and they went into the lounge.

“Have you got my peaches?”

“No, Mum. Something far, far better than that. You tell her, Stuart.”

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