Page 56 of A Midlife Marriage

‘Well then.’

‘Well.’ He put his fork down. ‘That was lovely,’ he said and for a long moment Kay sat, looking back at him. They had so much history, they had a son, they had the pulse of a connection still between them and they always would. But beyond that … Upstairs, a door creaked open. Her eyes went wide as plates.

‘I thought you said he was out,’ Martin whispered.

‘That’s what he told me,’ she whispered back.

She sat, not daring to move as she listened to the voices that had started up: the deep tones of her son, followed by lighter female tones.

Opposite, Martin did the same. ‘Emmylou?’

Nodding, Kay pressed her lips together. In her house? With her son? But before she could get any further in processing the situation, heavy footsteps came pounding down the stairs and Alex tumbled into the kitchen.

‘Dad?’ He was dressed only in boxer shorts, his face and hair putting on a united front of shock.

‘Son.’ Martin’s mouth twitched.

‘I thought you said you were out!’ Alex said accusingly as he turned to Kay.

‘And I thought you said you were out!’

‘I came to make toast.’ He went bright red.

She didn’t dare speak. She wanted to help him, every nerve and sinew strained to stand up, throw her arms around him and steer him out of his discomfort. How could she, when she was the cause of it? How could she go anywhere near him, when all he would be wanting was for her to disappear.

Smiling, pushing his chair back and waving his hand, making both noise and movement, Martin chopped the moment into harmless chunks. ‘I think we can do better than toast. Pop some clothes on,’ he said, ‘and I’ll put some of your mum’s macaroni in the microwave. And bring Emmylou down as well. It is Emmylou, isn’t it?’

Frozen in the doorway, Alex nodded.

‘Great!’ Martin rubbed his hands together. ‘There’s plenty to go around isn’t there?’ he said, turning back to Kay.

And frozen at the table she too managed a small, bewildered nod.

With another two places set,another two macaroni banged in the microwave and served, Kay was still only partially defrosted. Alex too. Fully dressed, but still a deep shade of crimson, he had introduced an equally mortified Emmylou and kept his eyes on his plate ever since. So now, there really was nothing anyone could do but wait until the tide of embarrassment in the room had receded to wading level. Thank goodness for macaroni cheese, Kay thought as she watched them both tucking in. And thank goodness for Martin. Looking across at him, she smiled. Would she have dealt with the situation so well? It was doubtful.

‘This is delicious, thank you.’ Emmylou’s voice was tiny.

‘Would you like some more?’ she said.

‘Yes please.’

As she stood to refill plates, her heart swelled. Four of them, in her kitchen. Almost a family again. Keeping her back to the table, watching the seconds tick down on the microwave, she listened to the conversation. Alex was talking now.I could help, dad. You could bring it here.He wouldn’t, she knew, ever question her as to why his father was here. There would be no judgement. He wouldn’t even ask and now the embarrassment was manageable, he was behaving as if finding Martin in the kitchen like this, was an everyday occurrence. She tapped her fingertips on the counter and squeezed her eyes shut. This was her son’s most beautiful quality, the non-judgemental acceptance he brought to every situation. It was also his most dangerous. Anyone could say anything, and he would accept it. As the microwave pinged, she opened her eyes, a silent prayer on her lips.Don’t let this girl break his heart. Please don’t let her hurt him.‘What could Dad bring here?’ she said, as she came back to the table.

‘He needs somewhere to keep the VW he’s renovating,’ Alex said. ‘And we’ve got loads of room. Remember my motorbike? Shook helped me build it.’

Remember? How could she forget the season Alex had been obsessed withRags to Riches,buying himself a DIY motorcycle kit, littering her lawn with spark plugs and fuel hoses, for months on end. Eventually it had all come together, all those unfathomable bits. Alex had even taken part in a couple of races, something else she had never imagined him doing. As she handed Emmylou her plate, Kay smiled. If she’d been over-protective towards her son, she’d also been unimaginative.

‘Shook?’ Martin frowned.

‘It’s a long story.’ Kay sat down. ‘His real name is Tomasz, the guy Caro is marrying on Friday?’

‘I see.’ Martin turned to Alex. ‘Your mum doesn’t want ––’

‘Actually,’ Kay interrupted. ‘I think it would be lovely.’ She meant it. Alex had proved himself to be a good mechanic and this was exactly the kind of project he would enjoy. But it was more than that, and as she glanced up at Martin, she saw that he felt it too.I wanted to talk to you again.That’s what he’d said. Well, she did too. She wanted to talk to him too.

And so itwas that the next evening Martin drove a battered VW van around to her house and Kay made tea, carried it out to the garden and watched as heads close, her son and her ex-husband inspected the van together. They didn’t have long, twenty minutes or so before Alex’s phone pinged, and he was gone.

‘Emmylou,’ Kay said wryly. ‘I won’t see him now until tomorrow.’

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