‘She moved in with my Aunty Ellis, who’s great. A spare mum, you know? Always been there for me. She was about forty minutes away and every Friday, Mum would pitch up and collect us from school, and it was always so good to see her, but also horrible too because it reminded me that it was an odd situation. We’d then go to Ellis’s house for the weekend, but I often had homework or a sports fixture or wanted to see friends. Plus, we were always on a timer, which felt desperate. Monday morning was always three sleeps away and that meant going back to my dad’s.’
‘You must have felt torn?’
‘I did. I do. But then it got even more complicated when my dad moved Wendy Peterson, the woman he’d had the affair with,into our house. So she then kind of tried to step into my mum’s shoes in every sense and I couldn’t stand it. I was so mad at him for the way he’d treated my mum. I felt like it was all his fault and I found it hard to get over.’
‘Jeez!’ She could only imagine.
‘Yep, Jeez! Dad and I fell out quite badly. I was rude, angry.’
‘You were only a kid.’
‘I was, but I still said some pretty hurtful things. My sister Dilly took my dad’s part and stayed with him and Wendy, and I went to live with my mum full-time in her new flat, which was closer to school. And that was all good until Mum met Charles Wentworth and they eventually moved into their present house and had my twin brothers, Rafe and Louis. And then my dad had my little sister, Aurelia.’
‘With Wendy?’
‘No.’ he shook his head. ‘With Sherry.’
‘Sherry?’ She was confused.
‘Yes, Sherry who worked in the coffee shop, who he was with briefly. Briefly enough to have a baby with.’
‘So he’s with Sherry now?’ She was trying to keep up.
‘Nope.’ Ed shook his head. ‘He’s now with Ramona who he met on a murder mystery weekend and they have Riley, my baby sister.’
‘I’m a bit confused.’
‘Try living it.’
He rose from the table, re-boiled the kettle, heaped the hot chocolate powder into the mugs and topped up with hot water, stirring vigorously, before passing one to her.
‘Thanks. I see what you mean now, about being at the mercy of other people’s decisions.’
‘Yep.’ He retook his seat. ‘I left home the moment I was able after uni and you know the rest. Oh, well actually, you don’t know the rest – I still have two things to share.’
Her relief at this point was palpable: if this was what he meant by not straightforward, not traditional, then she could happily deal with it. Disjointed families were her specialty.
‘I am so split in two that I even have two names ...’
‘What?’ She bit her cheek, praying, praying, praying he was not about to reveal that his name was something mad like Sebastian Farquhar, knowing she’d never live it down and Connie would laugh for a lifetime.
‘Yeah, it’s true. My name is Edgar, Edgar Stratton, and my dad has, for as long as I can remember, only ever called me Ed, but my mum calls me Bear, my childhood nickname that stuck, for her at least.’
‘Bear?’ She laughed. It didn’t suit him at all.
‘Yep. My sister calls me Bear, and Ellis, a couple of others, but not many people.’
‘God, we are really laying it all out here on the table tonight!’ She swung her arm in an arc and as she did so, knocked Ed’s full mug of hot chocolate over the table. It ran in a river over the tabletop and soaked the arms of his shirt and dripped on to his jeans. She gasped, mortified not only by her clumsiness, but the potential damage to table and floor.
‘Ouch, shit! Hot hot!’ He ripped off his shirt and unzipped his jeans, pulling them down quickly until he stood in his boxer shorts.
‘Ed! Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Are you hurt? Look at the table! I’m such a klutz!’ Jumping up, she grabbed the cloth from the sink and wiped up most of her spill.
‘Don’t worry, it was an accident. I’ll pop this in the washing machine.’ He balled his jeans and shirt and walked to the laundry room.
Instinctively, Tawrie threw the cloth in the sink and followed him into the relatively confined space. It was cosy, intimate, and it mattered little that there was no soft mattress or music or a cold glass ofwhatever. There was no more than thirty inches between them as he leaned on the sink and she stood by the window. They moved at the same time. It was visceral, desperate, and all-consuming as the two sank down on to the blue-and-white striped rag rug. Urgently, they pawed at skin and in a frenzy of kissing, he removed her clothes. The new couple, giddy with anticipation, laughed in the moment that would set a new precedent and from which they would emerge changed. Suddenly Ed stopped and, bracing his arms, hovered over her as she reached up to touch his beautiful face.
‘Just so we’re clear’ – he kissed her fingers – ‘the feeling we were talking about earlier, the one that’s reciprocated. It’s love, right? That’s what’s happening here?’
