Stronger Together
Tom’s Legacy
This was it. The opening.
The dream coming true.
The shutter in the 1960s M3 Leica that Luc was using today clicked again and he automatically pushed the lever that would wind the film on to be ready for the next shot.
One side of his mouth curled up as he corrected his last thought. No… The real dream had come true a year ago now, when he’d married Sophie Spencer – the absolute love of his life.
This camera had been her wedding present to him. She’d sourced it with Gregory Glasson’s help and he had been delighted to deliver it when he came to attend the intimate ceremony that had taken place in the garden of the Baxter’s Dulwich home. He had given it to Luc on Sophie’s behalf with her message.
Different but the same. A key to a new future – together.
Luc was still thinking of their wedding day as he pushed open the door of Phoenix House to join the guests inside. A day that had more than a fair share of poignancy but that was only making it even more meaningful.
Luc had overheard Sophie trying to comfort Tilly, after her bridesmaid’s tearful statement late in the day that this was probably the last wedding they would ever do together.
‘But it’s the best, because it’s mine,’Sophie had suggested. ‘Maybe you’ll get your own proposal soon, Tilly. I promise I’ll help with your wedding.’
‘Les beaux discours ne remplissent pas la marmite.’
‘Fine words don’t fill the pot? Oh… that’s like if wishes were horses then beggars would ride?’
He could still hear an echo of the laughter from both women, a sound that conveyed the kind understanding and love that was pure Sophie.
Inside the foyer, Luc paused for a moment at the open door to the grand room where the guests were mingling. A room that now had immaculately polished floorboards, a sparkling chandelier and the feature of the magnificent fireplace that Luc had so carefully restored nearly two years ago now.
Not far from the door, two men were standing, oblivious to the fact that they were being observed by anyone other than the television crew who were covering a local event important enough for the local CamberwellMPto attend, along with the Mayor of Southwark, looking official in his heavy gold chain of office.
One of them was Martin Baxter, and Luc experienced another moment of fusion between the dreams that had come true. On the day of his wedding, Martin had proudly taken the role of ‘father of the bride’ to lead Sophie down a rose-petal path to where Luc was waiting for her at the entrance to a summerhouse that was smothered in the fragrant white roses that had been Sophie’s choice, and different shades of blue, with both forget-me-nots and delphiniums included. His choice.
Martin was with Malik Baptiste, now one of the most famous football celebrities ever, who had ended up begging to be the public face of Phoenix House when the real truth about Luc’s past had emerged. They were both the biggest supporters – and donors – to the foundation and they had become unlikely mates.
Malik’s wide smile was the epitome of charismatic, as easily recognised as the mop of short dreadlocks he favoured. He was more than happy to be in front of the cameras.
‘Tom was Martin’s son. He got into a spot of bother when he was a kid and it was Luc who helped him, yeah? They were best friends after that.’
‘Is that what got you involved with Phoenix House, Mr Baxter?’ A fluffy microphone was pushed closer. ‘That your son had a tough time as a teenager?’
‘Tom and Luc were more than best friends,’ Martin said. ‘They were brothers. And that makes Luc my son as well. We lost sight of that for a while but Phoenix House has brought us all back together and I am confident it’s going to change the lives of many other people for the better as well. I’m beyond proud to be a small part of this.’
Luc slipped past them before he heard enough to make the lump in his throat any bigger. He could see his executive trustee and close friend, Paul, gathering the other trustees, so the formal speeches would be starting soon. He wanted Sophie by his side when that happened and he could see her near the fireplace, so he wove his way through the crowd towards her. Hannah was beside Sophie and both women had their backs to the room as they watched George reaching to touch the carved ivy leaves on the fire surround.
And there they were again. The invisible threads between all the most important things in Luc’s life.
Hannah had been Sophie’s other bridesmaid. Little George had been the ringbearer. Hannah’s husband, Jamie, had been Luc’s best man because their friendship had been inevitable. Their lives were already linked.
As Luc got closer, Sophie turned, as though she’d felt him approaching, and her gaze locked with his.
He could feel the love like another thread, reaching and wrapping around him so fast and so deeply that it felt as if he was in an invisible cocoon. As he reached her, George hugged his legs tightly.
‘Where were you, Uncle Luc? We missed you.’
‘I wasn’t far away,mon petit. I’m never far away.’
He was close enough to put his arm around Sophie. It was instinctive by now for his free hand to discreetly make contact with the side of her belly, his fingers splayed a little, in the hope of finding an answering greeting from their soon-to-be born daughter. They would be heading back to the South of France soon, so that she could be born in the country that had brought her parents together, and they would be living in the little house with the blue door while they waited – the place they’d first made love.
