Page 87 of Waiting for a Bright New Future

The mention of Jim felt like a stab to the heart. “What about Tibby?”

“After a lot of persuasion and emotional blackmail on my part, he’s agreed that Tibby can come too.”

“Butter her paws to make sure he doesn’t run back here.”

“What?”

Stuart shook his head. “Old wives’ tale. Ignore me.” He felt as though he was standing on the edge of a precipice. All that would come out of his mouth was absolute rubbish. “When are you going?”

“As soon as I collect the children from school. The car’s packed.”

Stuart suddenly realised the lack of unicorns and Lego in the lounge and a quick glance showed the coat hooks in the hall were empty except for his own jackets. He was being pushed to arm’s length by those who’d kept him sane and functioning. He could make himself look weak by pleading or he could stand up tall and let her go.

“Don’t be a stranger this time,” he said. “Keep in touch.”

“I do appreciate what you’ve done for us. Not every landlord would’ve been so understanding.”

Landlord. Was that all that she thought of him as?

“Best wishes to you and Jayne for a long and happy marriage.” She was holding her hand out. He took it and swallowed hard when a little tingle of electricity travelled up his arm.

“I’m going to take our stuff over to Jim’s now so that I can do some unpacking and make the place feel like home before collecting the children.”

Stuart stood at the front door until the orange Panda disappeared from sight.

Jayne smiled when he told her the news about Florence later that day but was slightly less happy when he told her about his new haphazard working hours.

“Mum and I depend on you now, don’t we, Mum?”

Lillian nodded as she twiddled with a knitted square on her lap, rolling it into a tube and then trying to press it flat with her fingers.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way of making it work, Stuart.” Jayne paused and now her eyes began to sparkle. “But the positive news is, that with Florence gone, you don’t have to stay next door and play landlord. You could move in this very evening.”

Lillian nodded and smiled. Stuart patted the old lady’s hands.

Jayne stood up. “Go home and pack an overnight bag. You can sort the rest of your stuff out tomorrow. I’ll go and clear space for you in my wardrobe. Isn’t it exciting! We’re going to be a proper couple at last!” She almost skipped from the room and her footsteps on the stairs were quick.

“A proper couple at last.” Lillian raised her head to speak again, then smiled, nodded and looked down at her twiddling square.

He should be happy but felt like he’d been cornered. Two women had cast him aside today but now two more were welcoming him with open arms. It should balance the scales. It didn’t. It made him feel like things were even more out of kilter.

“Off you go, Stuart!” Jayne’s voice trilled down the stairs. Everything was good in her world now and he ought to keep it that way. He kissed Lillian on the cheek and went home.

He put a change of clothes into a holdall along with his toilet bag and shaver. TheGap Yearbook went in, just in case the opportunity presented itself. He hesitated over the pyjamas. It was winter; he hated feeling cold at night. But didn’t most men sleep naked? He and Jayne had spent several evenings in bed during Florence’s absences but they’d never actually slept together. Would she expect him naked or were pyjamas acceptable?

He sat down on the bed and tried to bring some logic back to his thoughts. He was getting this out of proportion. He was panicking over nothing. The pyjama problem was a symptom of the shock at Jayne’s sudden instruction to move in.

He gave up packing and wandered downstairs into the lounge, expecting to find Tibby in the middle of the settee and amenable to a tickle under the chin and some thinking out loud. She wasn’t there. She’d gone off in the cat basket with Florence. She’d taken the cardboard box from the garage containing the hibernating Slowcoach as well. Florence. There was an ache in his heart that shouldn’t be there. Combined with the loss of William and his rapidly shrinking job, it felt like his whole life was disintegrating.

He couldn’t face moving in with Jayne tonight. He texted her:Can you putVeraon the TV? We need to talk.

Chapter Forty-One

She was at his front door within minutes, fear plastered across her face.

“What’s the matter?”

He ushered her into the lounge where he’d already poured two glasses of wine. There was no easy way of saying this. He had to be direct.

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