‘But Dad, I don’t know if I want to!’
I was sitting with him at our family kitchen table, sharing a pot of tea while Mum played with William in the living room.
‘You don’t want to be with him?’
‘No! I definitely want to be with him. I don’t know what I’d do without him. But this wedding stuff … all the planning … it’s not something I’d ever have chosen. But it’s making him so happy, and he’s so clear about how he sees our future together.’
‘But it’s not how you see it?’
‘It’s exactly how I see it. Just without the marriage bit. But … with his mum leaving, it’s become so important to him, to prove that we’re different from her and his dad. That we can make it work.’
‘So everything apart from marriage – plans, kids, jobs, you agree on all that?’
‘Yup. Completely. But I don’t know how to even discuss this with him. And it’s the first time I’ve ever felt that way with him, to not be able to tell him something I’m feeling. And it feels so huge.’
‘The path of love isn’t always that clear, I’m afraid.’
‘But you and Mum knew instantly, didn’t you?’
Dad let out a little laugh. ‘Not exactly, love. I know your mother likes to tell that story, but it’s not really what happened. For a start, she wasn’t interested in me at all when we first met. She fancied my best friend at the time, Larry Pearson. He took her to the pictures, tried to kiss her, and she threw a tub of popcorn over him. Wouldn’t talk to me for weeks afterwards, as if I was to blame for his scoundrel ways.’
‘What! I nearly had a different dad?’
‘No, love. No. Whatever smudges your mother wants to make to our early days, I always knew that she and I would end up together. Although I don’t think she did. Our first date was almost as bad as hers and Larry’s.’
‘Did she hit you with her handbag?’
‘No,’ he chuckled. ‘We went to an Italian restaurant in Battersea and the waiter poured my spaghetti and meatballs all down the front of my bri-nylon suit. Had to eat the whole dinner with my napkin in my collar and your mother’s napkin on my lap. Looked like I’d murdered someone when I walked her home.’
‘But after that – you both knew after that?’
‘Yes, love. But knowing something doesn’t always mean you’re right.’
‘So you’re saying I shouldn’t marry Jack.’
‘I wouldn’t know anything about that, love, I’m just a silly old man who landed the most wonderful woman in the world. All I’m saying is – know what’s important to you. Know what it is that makes you happy, then hold onto that for as long as you possibly can. And don’t order spaghetti and meatballs when you’re in your best clothes.’
‘Thanks, Dad,’ said Zoe, hugging him.
‘S’alright. It’s important for us of the older generation to pass on our wisdom.’