Page 70 of Road Trip to the Riviera
Ducking, she grabs another handful and chucks them at me like confetti.
I’m just grabbing the bowl and setting it on her head like a hat, letting crumbs and debris cascade down her, onto thebedcovers, the floor, and she’s shrieking with laughter, a few crumbs escaping from her still overfull mouth, when the door opens.
‘Sarah!’ Vivian cries, sounding every inch the mother I remember her being. ‘What on earth are you two doing?’
I turn and jump to my feet, as if I’m a soldier being called to attention by his sergeant. ‘Shorry, Vivian,’ I splutter, still desperately trying to chew and swallow the dried concoction I’ve crammed into my mouth.
She glowers at me and it’s clear that any progress I’ve made in the last few days has now been erased by this latest stunt.
Sarah gives a snort. ‘Yesch, shorry.’
Vivian draws herself up to her full height and looks down her nose at us. ‘When you two have cleared up,’ she says, ‘perhaps you’ll join us in the garden for a toast.’
She clicks the door into place and Sarah and I meet each other’s eye. I swallow and finally my mouth has generated enough saliva to deal with the dried-up potato chips and salt. ‘Whoops,’ I say.
‘I think we’re in trouble.’
‘Yep.’
She’s kneeling up on the bed now, and I’m still standing. And suddenly she flings her arms around my waist. I hug her back and we stay there for a moment, just holding each other. It’s been a long time since we touched. Other than perfunctory greetings and short, functional phone calls, we haven’t properly connected for years.
But my body leans into hers, remembering the first time I put my arm around her on the bus, how stiff and awkward and terrifying it had felt. Our first kiss in the sparkling darkness of the fairground, next to the waltzer, to the sound of delighted screams and chatter. How after a while, hugging her and kissingher had stopped feeling awkward and had begun to feel… kind of inevitable. As if we fit together in a way that made sense.
I think of what Sébastien said about jigsaw pieces. How sometimes it’s the differences between us that bind us together. Sarah’s organisation, her drive, the fact that she likes things just so. My—well, I guess I’m more relaxed about that sort of thing. Some would call it lazy, I guess. But I like to take things more slowly. Maybe appreciate the journey as much as the destination.
And a realisation comes over me twenty-two years too late. I should have stayed with her. I should have defied her parents as much as I could. And maybe things would have turned out differently for us.
I draw back and look at her face, and she looks at mine, a half-smile playing on her lips. I’m about to say something when she opens her mouth and speaks first.
‘I’m really going to miss you, you know, Hal,’ she says. ‘It’s the end of an era.’
‘Yeah.’ I want to say more, that it doesn’t have to be the end of an era. Or that maybe it could be the start of something new. Then I think of all the ways in which I’ve probably caused her pain in the past. And of Peter, who seems to be really into her. And I realise that coming and interrupting her life again would be selfish. Because she seems happy. I had my chance and I blew it.
‘I guess we better clean this up before we get into any more trouble,’ she says, making a face.
While she brushes crisps out of her hair, I fetch a dustpan and brush from the kitchen then quietly, I clear up the crisps and dust myself down, before we take our glasses out onto the terrace where Louis is waiting with his new bride.
They’re grinning and laughing, arms wrapped around each other. For the first time, as the breeze blows slightly against herdress, I notice the rounder shape of Summer’s stomach. I think of the baby they will welcome in the world together, and how lucky that kid is going to be.
Maybe I did miss my chance with Sarah. And maybe my fathering skills left something to be desired over the years. But this could be my second chance, my second era. I resolve to be there for these kids as they take their next steps into the world. Not to assume they’re OK just because they don’t ask for help, but to think a bit more about what they might need, how I can make their lives better. I was a shit father, a crap boyfriend. But I’m going to be the best father-in-law and granddad it’s possible to be.
And I thank God at least my son has the good sense to hold onto love while he has the chance.
31
SARAH
‘Mum, you’ll be seeing us in a week!’ Louis breaks away from my hold with a grin. ‘Try not to crush me to death.’
‘Sorry,’ I say.
But there’s something oddly final about waving the pair of them off to their honeymoon. Mum’s booked them five days in Saint-Tropez and stumped up for a taxi too. Hal and I both tried to pay for the trip, but Mum was characteristically stubborn and stuck to her guns.
Instead, I’ve slipped Louis some spending money and I’m pretty sure Hal has done the same.
I can’t help but feel a little jealous of their five-day break from reality but remind myself that real adulthood is coming at them soon enough. Louis’s graduate training programme starts in September, and Summer’s starting a master’s degree around the same time. And there’s the small matter of having a tiny human to care for. They’ll need to charge their batteries in readiness for all that.
I rang Peter this morning and talked through a couple of client files. I’m heading back tomorrow, but have managed to book train tickets. Apparently, it’ll be a ten-hour trip, andalthough there will be a couple of train changes along the way, I’m getting more adept at using my crutch. I’m going to ask Hal to bring the bulk of my luggage home for me. It’s mostly dirty laundry and stuff I brought for the wedding, so I won’t need it any time soon.
