I have one cup of tea, and then another, and then another. Luke finally emerges just before noon, rubbing his face and yawning. He slumps into a chair at the kitchen table while I heat the grill and start assembling our breakfast.
He vows his undying love for me when I plonk his full English in front of him. My stomach is rumbling so I just grin, sit down and tuck in myself. We chat about nonsense, but I like it. It feels normal. It feels likeus.
Luke has half an egg and a sausage left when his phone rings. ‘Leave it,’ I say, but he checks the caller ID and picks it up anyway.
‘Hi, Dad. What’s up?’
I can hear muffled talking as I stand to clear my own empty plate away. Luke listens for a minute or two, wearing the same frown he sported whilst fast asleep—
‘Yes, I know … I don’t think Warren realized—’
He begins to pace, nodding.
‘Yes, but I had to nip over to the Shortlands house to … I know. I know. I’m sorry, Dad. I should have been there. I will next time, I promise. Listen … I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.’ He listens some more. ‘Yup, okay. Of course I’ll help out. I’ll give Matt a call later. Bye, Dad. Bye … ’
He hangs up, places his phone on the counter and returns to his breakfast, but after another bite of egg he pushes his plate away.
‘What’s up with your dad?’ I say as I pick it up, scrape it off and add it to the dishwasher. ‘It sounded as if he was upset about something.’
Luke stares at the table and shakes his head. ‘It’s nothing much.’
I sit down opposite him. If anyone knows when someone is avoiding an issue, it’s me. ‘Luke?’
He sighs. ‘There was an issue with the self-levelling compound for the kitchen extension we’re doing at the moment. I left it to Warren because I needed to go and deal with a blip at the Shortlands place I’m doing up with Elena, and somehow he messed it up. It’s got to be dug up and relaid – at our expense. Dad isn’t pleased.’
‘But Warren’s been with your dad for years. He’s easily experienced enough to handle it. And, anyway, why is it your fault?’
‘It’s not my fault exactly. But Dad prefers it when I’m there and the Shortlands house is really eating into my time at the moment. It’s been causing a bit of … tension, shall we say, about how much time I spend with my own projects and how much I spend with those for Harris & Sons.’
‘But you always make up the hours if you have to dash off to deal with a crisis,’ I say, feeling indignation rise within me. ‘It’s not as if you’re not pulling your weight.’
‘I know that, and you know that, but somehow Dad feels my focus is split. This year was the year he was supposed to ease back and hand over the reins to me and I think it’s just getting him stressed. To be honest, I think he’d prefer it if I gave up on the house flipping and just settled down with the family business.’
‘But what doyouwant?’
He shrugs. ‘You know I love taking an old house, stripping away all the stupid mistakes homeowners have made over the years and returning it to its former glory. I like creating homes, places where families can grow and make memories. Somehow, doing loft conversions and kitchen extensions isn’t quite thesame, but then again, I love working with Dad, creating a family legacy.’
I stand up, walk behind him and link my arms around his neck, pressing my cheek against his. ‘Whatever you want to do – when you decide what it is you want to do – I’m right behind you. You know that, right?’
I feel and hear him exhale. ‘Yeah, I know that.’ He sounds pleased, but weary.
‘Jess?’
I loosen my arms and step back, and he twists around to look at me. ‘Yes?’
‘Do you mind if we don’t go up to London tonight? I’m knackered. Do you think we can just do a takeaway and a film like we did when we were first married?’
I’ll gladly swap the noise and bustle of the city centre for a quiet night alone with my husband. It’s not lost on me that I’ve only got two more anniversaries after this one before we hit number ten. Things are going well, I think, but I can’t get complacent. ‘Of course. And instead of getting takeaway, why don’t I pop out and buy us some steaks? I could throw together a salad and do some of those rosemary and sea salt potatoes you like … ’
‘You’re an angel,’ he says, pulling me into his lap and kissing me. ‘And while you’re at the supermarket, I can nip out and help Matt with his bathroom.’
I probably should know why Luke’s younger brother needs help with his bathroom, but I don’t want to give myself away, so I just nod. ‘Sounds like a plan.’
‘We can always watchMrs Wonderfulif you like?’ he says, brightening slightly.
Ugh. I don’t think so. I’m beginning to hate that bitch.
‘How about something different this year? Something with guns and explosions. I’m sure that’s much more up your street.’
