âWhoâs that?â Ben aims a finger towards the thin figure propping up the bar as he chats happily with one of the Agony Aunts.
âOld friend of Charlotteâs, I believe, Benny. He was in a fix so James did him a favor, gave him a leg up.â
Benâs brows rise. âWhat kind of leg up?â
âAs I understand it, Benny had a poor upbringing. He was illiterate and so effectively unemployable.
James put him on a training program with the company, aiming for an apprenticeship in the maintenance section.â
âBut he canât read? Shouldnât he clear something like that with you?â
âCharlotte is making the time to teach Benny to read. And James has the full authority of a director in my company.â
*****
Elizabeth nudges me. âI think we should rescue him.â
I twist, scanning. âWho?â
âJames.â She tilts her glass toward a corner table.
James, seated at the back and wearing the expression of a man losing the will to live, is flanked to one side by two old biddies: if memory serves from the wedding, itâs Michaelâs grandmother and his Aunty Edna.
On the other side, his escape is blocked by some old woman in a vast motorised wheelchair who is simultaneously talking and blowing smoke from a roll-up into his face. Eyes glazed, he nods politely to the old gorgon then takes a large swallow of brandy.
As we watch, two more of the legion of old hens join the group. One wears a bright green trouser suit, sparkly purple shoes, and an orange hat. The other has what appears to be a dead cat draped over her shoulders.
I chuckle. âHe does have the knack of attracting them, doesnât he.â I offer Elizabeth my arm. âAs you say, letâs go rescue him.â
James, fanning away curls of blue smoke, sees us approach, his eyes rising to mine like one staring into the abyss. As we draw closer, the voices of the matrons and matriarchs of Michaelâs family rise above the general hub-bub.
â⦠and the doctor said heâd never seen anything like itâ¦â
âYes, well, he said I should give up smoking. I told him that my father lived to be a hundred and three andâ¦â
âYes⦠but my sciaticaâ¦â
James gulps at his brandy.
From off-stage, enter Kirstie, making straight for the table. âJames, you promised me a dance. You didnât forget, did you?â
James rises from his seat as though rocket-propelled. âKirstie, of course I didnât forget.â
Beside me, Elizabeth chortles behind a hand. âSpot the face of a grateful man.â
Voices rise in protest. âWe wuz havinâ such an interesting conversationâ¦â
âBut Iâve not told you about my bunion surgeryâ¦â
Kirstie smiles sweetly. âYou really canât monopolise James like this, you know. And you wouldnât ask a gentleman to break his promise, now would you?â
Dark mutterings rise from the table, but James makes his break, weaving between knees, walking sticks and zimmer frames with the agility of a limbo dancer on acid. He bangs a shin on the metal edge of a walking frame and doesnât so much as wince.
As he bursts free from the group, muttering something to her, he snatches Kirstieâs hand, leading her to me and Elizabeth.
âDid he really promise you a dance?â I ask, talking from the corner of my mouth.
Her lips twitch. âNo, but I donât like seeing a man in pain.â
From the sidelines, Ben watches James laughing and joking with Kirstie, lips pursed, expression sour.
Miserable bastardâ¦
*****
Michael appears at my side, a tray of glasses in hand. âWhere have the girls all disappeared to?â
I nod towards the bar. âLast I saw they were headed that-a-way for another round.â
âAh.â He regards his tray. âStill, don't suppose these are going to go to waste.â
I look down at the collection of pink umbrellas, bouncy butterflies and tinsel on swizzle sticks. âWhat's Charlotte drinking?â I ask.
âElderflower fizz.â
âShe enjoying it?â
He rocks spread fingers one way then the other. âSort of. Not sure how nine months of it is going to stand up.â
âA rough ride then?â
âHer choice.â He grins and, tray in hand, heads for the bar.
*****
Charlotte My Master and Richard amble across. âEnjoying the party, Mitch?â asks Richard. âHow are you finding things?â
My mother's answering smile is shy, restrained. âIâm still getting used to the idea of being part of a family again. Itâs been so long thatâ¦â She swallows and looks away.
Richard lays a finger on her hand. âYes, itâs been a long time. But youâre here now and you are welcome, not just with Charlotte, James and Michael, but with me too. Remember, my wife is also part of your family and that means that you are a part of mine.â
âIâd not thought of that. Weâre sort of brother and sister in law arenât we?â
Richard lifts her hand, kisses the finger. His voice is very soft. âYes, Mitch, we are.â Her eyes brim.
Michaelâs gaze keeps wandering, scanning the room, watching the door.
âWhat are you looking for?â I ask.
âOh, nothing. Just checking on whoâs turned up.â
My Master pushes a drink into my hand, another into my motherâs. âEveryone, Iâd say.â
But Michael isnât listening. Instead, heâs fixed on something across the room. He touches my arm.
âPlease excuse me, everyone. Iâll be back in just a minute.â
My Master follows him with his gaze then looks back to me, raises brows.
âNo idea,â I say.
âWhat are your plans, Mitch?â asks Ben. âAre you looking for a job? Or will you be working in the hotel or some such?â
âIâd not really gotten that far. Everythingâs changed so much since I left Frankâ¦â
âFrank?â
âMy husband.â
Benâs eyes harden. âYou left your husband?â
I cut in. âThereâs not been time to tell you about what happened Ben. My Momâs husband didnât treat her very well.â
âEven soâ¦â
Weâre interrupted by Michaelâs return. His smile is broad. âMitch, thereâs someone Iâd like you to meet.â
He stands to one side, revealing the figure behind him.
My mother, with a back glance to Ben, turns, tilting her head, as though not recognising a stranger.
Then her eyes widen, her mouth opens and she shrieks, âDavey. Davey! Oh my God, itâs you!â
The stranger smiles broadly, arms open in welcome. âShelleyâ¦â
She flings herself into his arms. âDavey, Oh, Davey. Thank you for coming. Thank you.â
Michael stands back, arms folded, wearing a âcat-that-got-the-creamâ expression. I catch his eye and he droops a wink at me.
My Master murmurs, âNice work. How did you pull that one off?â
âDrove over last week, that day I said I was working late down at the center. Parked up by their house and camped outside until I saw Stephen go out, then knocked on the door. David said right away that heâd come.â
My mother turns to him, streaming tears but her eyes shining. âThank you, Michael. Thank you.â
He beams. âMy pleasure, Mitch.â
My mother and her brotherâ¦
Reality dawns.
My family tooâ¦
⦠My uncleâ¦
The enormity of the change in my life is still sinking in.
Familyâ¦
I belongâ¦
They retreat to a quiet corner, sitting beside each other, talking.
Ben, standing to one side, watching all this, nods across to the pair. âWho is he?â
âOne of Mitchâs brothers; David,â replies Michael.
âOne of them?â
âThe other wouldnât come.â
Ben sucks in his cheeks. âFamily bust-up?â
âSomething like that. It was a long time ago. Iâm hoping we can help patch things up for her.â
Ben Hmmphs⦠Standing beside Michael, he smiles across at the pair. The smile transforms his face and for a moment he so much more resembles his handsome brother. âYes, itâs tough isnât it, when families break up.â
My Master looks askance at him, but thereâs no hint of sarcasm in Ben's face or voice.
Ben looks to him; says, âYou think I like constantly falling out with Mike?â The words could be aggressive, but the toneâs not there.
Heâs tryingâ¦
My Master remains silent but gives the smallest of head-shakes in reply.
Ben scratches his nose. âIâm just getting in a round. Can I bring you a drink back, Mike?â
Michael holds up his beer. âIâm fine.â
âJames? Charlotte?â
âRed wine for me, thank you, Ben,â nods my Master.
âIâll have a gooseberry cordial,â I say.
Ben hesitates at my words, then heads for the bar.
My Master raises brows at the departing Ben. âHe really is doing his best, isnât he.â
Michael sucks froth from the top of his glass. âHe did promise.â
We watch him head across the room, towards the bar, but at the last moment, he stops, seeming to think for a moment, then turns to where my mother and uncle sit together.
As he approaches the pair, my uncle looks up, then stands as Ben offers his hand, saying something.
The two shake then talk. My mother listens, nodding and smiling. Ben looks to her, then across to me, then points to Beth, laughing.
The usual God-donât-they-look-alike jokeâ¦
But both my mother and my uncle laugh too.
Michael shifts beside me. âI call that a big improvement.â
âIâd agree.â My Master watches Ben carefully. âLooks as though Iâd better get our drinks, eh?â
*****