It felt domesticated. It felt too easy. I pondered on it during the drive to the hotel where we were meeting, wondering how it would be if this was for real, and then wondering why it couldn’t be for real.
Bert was in his late sixties and had been my father’s agent until he retired and my dad transferred to someone who specialised in ex-footballers. His daughters, Suzanne and Iona, were now the main people in the agency and at some point, when Bert decided to retire, I’d switch to one of them. They had the same principals as Bert, client first, sensible advice, understanding of personal ethics.
Like not supporting companies that didn’t pay a living wage, or had records of bad form towards its employees.
There was a room that could be partitioned off in the hotel’s dining room that Bert always booked for meetings. The place was fairly quiet during the day, which meant it was already pretty private, but Bert worked on the side of paranoid.
“You alright, lad?” He stood up as I approached, opening his arms for a hug and a slap on the back.
I’d known him all my life, even had a Christmas Day with him and his daughters one year, the first year he had them with him for Christmas after he and his wife had divorced.
“Good. I’m good. Healing well.” I took the seat opposite his. “How’s the gout?”
He shook his head. “Rather not talk about it. Have you looked through the offer from the health food place?”
Straight to business. Typical Bert. “I have and it’s a no. It doesn’t sit well with what I’m working on with Neva, and it’d be a lie, because I’m not using any of their supplements to heal.”
“Thought that would be your response and I did tell their rep that it was unlikely. I’ve got one I think you’ll like – fancy a sports car?” He gave me the make and listed its features.
I shook my head. “No point. They’ll want me to be seen in it, and it’s not something I’ll be driving.” I waited for Bert to dig deeper, because this had, in the past, been something I’d have been all over.
“Why’s that?”
“Just checking, you’ve taken your heart medication today?”
He eyeballed me and reached for the packet of cigarettes he kept in his jacket pocket but never smoked. “Are you going to drive me to one of these?”
I shrugged. “I’ve already had a contract drawn up and I want this.”
“Fucking hell. What’ve you done?” He took a cigarette out of the packet and tapped it on the table.
“Neva. We were seeing each other a couple of years ago and we’ve not got back together but - ”
“Hang on, was that the reason why you didn’t end up in any tabloids for nearly a year?”
“It was. I was with her.” I braced myself. He would now want to know the ins and outs of a cat’s arse, to use one of my grandfather’s favourite sayings.
“She’s your nutrition person. Always seems busy. Older than you – at least she comes across that way. She’s serious too.” He frowned. “What the fuck does she see in you?” His finger was pointed forcefully in my direction.
“Don’t know. My charm and wit, probably. But she wants to have a baby and I said I’d help out. I haven’t told my dad yet - ”
The smile Bert was trying to hold back broke into a laugh. “Well, good on you, kid. Won’t do you any harm.”
I looked at him, puzzled. “Where’s the lecture?”
“If you’re old enough to look that happy at the idea of being a dad – because I know you’ll be involved with this kiddie – you’re old enough to make decisions about it. And I know you – something like this you’ll have thought about all ways till Christmas.” He patted my hand. “I’ll pray that it isn’t a daughter. You’ll never know what peace is if you have a daughter.”
“We need to get pregnant first.” I was worried about that. I didn’t want to see Neva be disappointed, although I knew it was possible. I didn’t want to have the conversation in a year’s time, which was the time limit we’d agreed, to say we’d done trying and it wasn’t meant to be, because that meant we were over.
Bert watched me, interested, putting his cigarettes away. “Enjoy the making part. Try to get her to forget about thermometers and temperature and just enjoy it.”
“Not sure that’s doable. We’re nottogethertogether. We’re just friends and co-parents to be. Hopefully.”
“Which is bullshit. I figured you were balls deep in love with someone when you stopped dicking about. Looking at you, I don’t think that’s changed.” He shook his head. “It’s worth the heartbreak, if that’s what happens. I went through hell with my divorce, but I wouldn’t have swapped the early years when we were courting and getting married. It was only the end where it turned sour. And now we’re both happy.”
Bert had remarried, just like his ex-wife had. They now got along fine at any family parties.
“Tell you what, when you know there’s going to be a baby, why don’t we approach some nappy companies. I’m being serious – stop laughing. It would be a huge talking point for the product and it’d show that men can do those things.” He nodded at me, still looking far too amused.
