Page 82 of If I Never Met You

‘Right.’

‘Maybe that’s why he doesn’t make many friends, looking after people that much is a burden.’

Laurie nodded. So, she’d been right, earlier, when she saw worry flit across Jamie’s face. He didn’t want there to be any obligations, after this was finished. This was strictly business, not pleasure, however intimate it might feel at times.

‘And,’ Hattie continued, ‘of course, you know what happened with his bro—’

Jamie approached them.

‘I like her, can we keep her,’ Hattie said, grabbing Laurie and planting a sloppy vodka kiss on her cheek.

‘Uh oh. Have you been dropping me in it, as per Hats?’

‘Would I.’

He ruffled her hair.

‘In a strange inversion, I’m done in and having to drag my parents home,’ Jamie said, ‘Would you be up for heading back together?’

Laurie agreed readily, she didn’t have another drink in her. Jamie had stayed away from her for the last forty-five minutesand Laurie understood why, and was grateful. The previous tension needed to dissipate.

‘It was so good to meet you,’ Hattie said, encircling her waist, smushing her face into Laurie and kissing Laurie’s left breast, having evidently missed her intended target of ‘slightly above her left breast.’ ‘I can tell you and I are going to be huge friends. I’m slightly psychic in that respect.’

‘You and my hairdresser both.’

‘Really? What did she predict that came true?’ Hattie said, peering through the one eye she could still open.

‘… Ah,’ Laurie regretted this remark now. ‘Nothing yet.’

‘Hattie is similarly unencumbered by a track record of success,’ Jamie interjected.

‘I told you, it’s feelings, sensations. Maybe, visions! Like, I can see you and Laurie with a toddler. A boy! Bringing him back here to visit. It’s cold weather, he’s in a coat …’

Laurie swallowed hard.

‘Alright, enough from mystic you,’ Jamie said, briskly. ‘I can see a vision of you with a hangover tomorrow, how’s that.’

29

‘Your speech was really nice,’ Laurie said, to Jamie’s dad, as they sat with nightcap whiskies in the over-stuffed, homely front room with the wood-burning fire, then winced at the cutesome inadequacy of ‘nice’.

‘Thank you, Laurie. It was from the heart.’

‘When are you going to tell them all?’ Jamie’s mum asked him. This was the first time the cancer had been directly mentioned in front of Laurie.

‘I might not,’ Eric said, sinking back into his chair. ‘Let them read the news in the obit column of theLincolnshire Echoand say: “That sneaky bastard!”’

‘That’s not fair on me, they’ll be pestering me for the story for weeks on end,’ Mary said. ‘It’ll take me an hour to make it across Co-op when I need a loaf of bread.’

‘Yeah, you have to think of Mum here,’ Jamie said.

‘Oh God, even when you’re dying you don’t get out of the To Do list, Laurie, can you believe it!’ Eric said. Laurie smiled and wished her heart didn’t feel so waterlogged that she found it difficult to match his lightness, and be who theyneeded. She didn’t want Eric to go. The world could do with more Erics, and fewer of other people.

‘Ahhhh it was good to see everyone though. Mary, can you believe the mop on Ronald Turner! Bald as coot a few short months ago and now he’s had plugs. Cutting about with that lounge lizard’s quiff like he’s Bryan Ferry. Talk about straining credulity.’

There was some discussion about the unexpectedly luxuriant hairline of Eric’s former boss and then he said, ‘He’s an avid churchgoer, Ron. I wish I had faith. I wish I thought I was going to see Joe again.’

He glanced up at a photo on the cabinets to their right that Laurie hadn’t noticed until now, a barrel-bellied kid Jamie next to an older brother with a broad toothy grin, both in grey V-neck school sweaters and ties.

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