Leaving was at least twice as bad as Noah had anticipated. Even the dogs were subdued as we said our goodbyes and thank-yous to Stuart, and then said them all over again at the coach station, where Matty and his nan wept and wept.
“Now then…” Hazel advanced on Noah, who had held out pretty well until that point, but her hug set him off. I quickly diverted my attention to our coach, willing the doors to open and save us from our sadness. “You look after yourself, all right?”
“I will, Nan.” Noah sniffed.
“And if your brother don’t mind having us camp in the backyard, we’ll be seeing you at Christmas, won’t we?”
Which was what? Seven weeks away? Yes, I was thinking like a big old meanie, because I knew the second Hazel put her arms around me, I was done for. She advanced; I blubbed.
“Thanks for coming, me ’ansum. You’re both welcome anytime, with or without these two.”
“Thanks, Hazel.” I knew by now that she called everyone ‘me ’ansum’, but it worked its magic on me just the same.
She released me and moved on to Leigh. “You take good care of him. He’s a good’n.”
“Yeah, he is.” Leigh smiled at me over Hazel’s shoulder. “Thank you for having us.”
“My pleasure.”
The coach doors swished open, and one of the crew came out, ready to start loading up. Hazel and Matty were saying goodbye for real, so we three handed our bags over and climbed aboard to wait, refusing to watch them through the window. Everyone else was on board by the time Matty made it to his seat and swapped his contacts for his glasses.
We spent the long, long eight-hour journey back to London intermittently jollying Matty along, or sitting in silence while he napped. Noah didn’t even take out his Kindle. A further two hours in the four-by-four, I could barely keep my eyes open and didn’t notice we’d stopped outside the flat. With a flap of my arm approximating a wave as Adam pulled away, I staggered up the stairs and tumbled through the door. Home, at last. “Hey, Mum.”
“Hello, love.” She came out to greet me. “How was it?”
“Great. I’m knackered. Going to bed.” I kissed her cheek and lurched the short distance to my room. “Night, Mum.”
“Night, love.”
“Bought you a zebra.”
“Another one?”
I smiled as I closed the door with my back, stripped down to t-shirt and boxers and fell into bed.
***
I missed Leigh. From the second I woke up, I missed them being at my side for tight-lipped morning kisses and giggles at Matty’s antics. Within minutes, I was sliding into the post-holiday blues and tugged my pillow from under to over my head. God, this was awful.
“Jesse?”
I wanted to cry ‘go away!’ I didn’t, though. “Yeah?”
My bedroom door opened. “Wasn’t sure if you were awake. Cup of tea.”
I curled back one end of my pillow and squinted up at my mum as she put the cup on my bedside table. “Thanks.”
She bustled away. “Bring your washing with you when you get up.”
“OK.” That’s if I get up. I had nothing to get up for—well, dinner at my grandma’s later. Otherwise? Meh.
Would Leigh be up yet? I had no idea what time it was; my phone was in my jeans, and my jeans were on the floor on the other side of the room. I threw my pillow aside and searched for my target in advance, to minimise out-of-bed time.
No jeans on the floor. No socks, shirt…
“Mum?” I scrambled out of bed and launched for my door. “Mum! My phone’s in my jeans!” The washing machine reached the spin cycle. Too late.
“Looking for this?”
It appeared in front of me.
“Thank God.”
She lightly flicked my ear and then grimaced at my eyebrow. “Like I’m going to put your clothes in the wash without checking the pockets first.”
I took my phone and plodded away, not surprised to find it was dead, but I had more urgent needs than digging my charger out of my bag. Specifically, a bladder that felt ready to burst. I dealt with that and brushed my teeth while I was at it, watching my reflection in the mirror above the sink. I hadn’t done that in ages, and I was quite happy with what I saw. My beard was too long, and my hair was getting a bit that way, but…yeah. I looked OK. Sunday morning rugged. And I loved my piercing, whatever my mum thought of it. Not much, apparently.
Back in my room, I plugged my phone in and hopped under the duvet. Awesome—a still-warm bed, so comfy after a week of sleeping on a piece of foam, although I’d have sacrificed it to wake up next to Leigh. Oh, well. Nothing I could do but drink my tea, maybe sneak in a bit more sleep…
“Have you gone back to bed?”
“Yep. Why? Is it illegal?”
I heard Mum huff through the closed door. “Don’t stay there all day.”
“I won’t,” I promised. She could be a bit of a nag about me sleeping in, but I understood why. In my teens, I used to stay up late and then not be able to sleep, so I’d end up going to school on two hours’ sleep, come home, nap, stay up late…and so on. I’d broken the cycle—with my mum’s assistance—when I’d started uni, but it probably wouldn’t take much to fall back into it again, so I would get up soon. Once I’d drunk my tea and virtually checked in on Leigh…or once they’d checked in on me, seeing as my phone went straight from the start-up screen to an incoming call.
“Good morning!” I greeted them.
“Good morning. You sound cheery.”
“I am now. How are you today?”
“Yeah, I’m good. I’m coming over.”
“OK. When?”
“Now? I caught the bus. Remember how noisy the baboons were at the zoo? That’s the farmhouse this morning.”
“OK, well, I’ll see you soon, I guess. How long you gonna be?”
“About…five seconds?” The buzzer sounded for the front door.
“You’re kidding me. I’m still in bed!”
“Don’t move.”
“There’s no way my mu…” I stopped and listened to Mum greet Leigh.
The front door closed, and my mum said, “He’s in his pit. Maybe you can lure him out of it.”
“I’ll have a go,” Leigh replied with a laugh.
Huh. OK, so, I was wrong about that.
“What… How…Wh…” Leigh straddled me and muted my astonishment with a kiss. I put my arms around them and went with it.
It was a long kiss—thank goodness I’d brushed my teeth—which Leigh eventually ended with a lip-smack noise and a smile. “Hi.”
“Hi. This is a wonderful surprise.”
“I thought you’d like it.”
Given where Leigh was sitting, they knew exactly how much I liked it. “We can’t…” I tilted my head meaningfully towards my bedroom door.
“I know.” They lifted one leg, gesturing for me to move over. I shuffled towards the wall, and they settled next to me, my arm under their neck, theirs over my chest. “I thought you’d probably have loads to do today, so I’ve brought some work with me.”
“We’re having a study day together?”
“If that’s OK? I mean, I can go up to uni if I’m gonna be in the way.”
I captured them with both arms and squeezed. They squeaked. I eased off a little. “I’m totally up for a study day together.” Or anything, so long as it was together. “Do you need to be back for a certain time?”
“Nope.”
“OK. Want to meet my grandma?”
“I’d love to! But shouldn’t you ask your mum first?”
I lifted my head and shouted, “Mum? Please can Leigh come to Grandma’s with us?”
“Of course they can.”
“Thanks.” I kissed Leigh’s head. “I knew she’d be fine. She let you come in here.” More to the point, she hadn’t intruded, or even so much as hinted we shouldn’t be in my room with the door shut and me half-naked. She did, however, turn the vacuum cleaner on—my cue to drag myself out of ‘my pit’ and shower. Leigh went through to the kitchen.
When I arrived, fifteen minutes later, they’d already got their tablet and books out on the kitchen table and were making three cups of tea. I snuck up behind and wrapped my arms around their waist. “I missed you this morning.”
“Uh-huh?”
“Mmm.” I inhaled their scent and sighed. “I think I might be addicted.” I nuzzled Leigh’s neck. They giggled and trapped my chin between their shoulder and cheek.
“Mother in the room…” A hand reached around us and took one of the cups. “Thank you, love. Mother exiting the room…”
I laughed, a tiny bit embarrassed, but it was done now. She’d seen us.
“Your mum rocks.”
“She does,” I agreed, even if she was now singing ‘It Must Be Love’—and not quietly—in the living room.
After that, Leigh and I got down to uni work until lunchtime, when we stopped to eat and Leigh told me about the earlier hoo-ha at the farmhouse. Noah’s mum and dad had turned up with Lily—his younger sister—first thing, ‘ready to party’, as Leigh put it. My poor mate. He’d be out of his mind by now, if they were still there. I remembered how excited they’d been when Adam and Sol got married. They loved big family celebrations—loud music, beer, tons of food. But Noah didn’t, and when it came to his and Matty’s wedding, I’d be making sure it was the kind of day they wanted, whatever the rest of the Ashtons had to say about it. I wasn’t afraid. Much.
***
My grandma, unlike my mum, didn’t ask questions. She worked people out by watching and listening to them, but not in an obvious way that made them self-conscious, so I hadn’t bothered to warn Leigh about it, but I did warn them about my grandma’s limited mobility and the reason for it.
“OK,” Leigh said lightly, though I still caught the flash of annoyance.
“I’m sorry. I know you think I’m obsessed with body size—”
“I don’t care, Jesse. I wish you believed me.”
“I do, kind of. But my grandma…” I wasn’t sure I could put it into words, because it was more than fighting the stigma of obesity. It was the shadow of death that loomed over my mum and me, the reality of being ‘morbidly obese’. My grandad died of a heart attack at sixty-five; my dad was only forty-eight when he died. The doctor had told my grandma it was a miracle she wasn’t dead already, which was cruel but true. And scary as hell.
But no, Leigh didn’t care. Or rather, they did care about how it made me feel. They didn’t dismiss it or lie to me and tell me I wasn’t fat. They accepted…loved me for who I was, and I wished so hard I could’ve taken back that warning, because I was the one fat-shaming. I was also pissed off how easily I’d reverted to it, as if I’d left my Fat Pride in Cornwall. Maybe it had been the pixies weaving their spell and the effect had worn off.
“Show Leigh the garden, Jesse,” my grandma suggested after dinner—roast beef, roast potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, veggies and gravy—which sat in my stomach like a lump of lead.
“Will do.”
Leigh followed me out through the conservatory into the garden. They’d hardly spoken during dinner, and it was my fault, therefore I needed to fix it.
“Come and see the greenhouse,” I said. I wanted to put as much distance between us and the dining room as possible.
Leigh followed me into the greenhouse, arms folded defensively. I closed the door and gave them a moment to look around, but they didn’t take me up on it, instead staring at me expectantly.
“OK,” I said. “Can I explain where I’m coming from?”
“Yeah, it might help if you did.”
And so, I told Leigh everything—how I’d been put on diets as a kid and been dieting ever since; how I’d tried every single fad diet that came on the market, been to Slimming World, Weight Watchers, joined a gym for a year and visited twice. I told them about starving myself, and the binges, and the bullying, the horrors of weight management clinic, and why I’d have still been trying to do all of those things if I hadn’t met them. Lastly, I admitted how terrified I was that being fat would kill me.
My self-pity was…pitiful, and totally not the point. “I’m trying,” I said. “I promise I’m trying.”
Leigh gestured with a sweep of the hand. “You look after all this?”
I nodded.
“And the garden?”
“Yes.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Are you deliberately changing the subject?” I asked, tongue-in-cheek, because it was what they’d asked me the last time we’d had a difficult conversation.
“Just taking it all in.” They leaned sideways and looked behind me. It was a big greenhouse, and sometimes it could be overwhelming, especially in early summer when there were so many tomato plants to tend to. But I always got there in the end.
Leigh returned their attention to me, locking their gaze with mine, and I couldn’t look away.
“I get why you’re scared, Jesse. Living with a life-threatening condition. It’s a challenge, and I get scared, too. Or I used to, before you. So…it seems to me, what I need to do is figure out how to make you feel safe.”
“No. This is my problem, not yours,” I argued.
“Nuh-uh. Not anymore.” Leigh lifted their dog tag and held it up in front of my face. “Shipmates, right?”
“Right.”
“And who’s got the wheel?”
I fought a smile. “That would be you.”
“OK.” They tilted their chin up and pointed at their mouth. “A kiss, please.”
I did as Leigh asked, keeping my lips together—Grandma’s greenhouse, after all—but in no rush to break contact. When we finally did, Leigh took my hand and we went back outside. It was getting dark, but I still took them around the garden, pointing out the different shrubs and trees I’d ‘helped’ my grandma plant when I was little: buddleia, wisteria, lilac—the ‘pretty blue flowers’ that led to the discovery of my colour blindness—pears, apples, plums and blackcurrants—‘don’t eat too many, you’ll get tummy ache…’
“How do you feel now you’ve told me?” Leigh asked as we reached the conservatory, ready to return to Mum and Grandma.
“Better…” I did a quick mental check-up to make sure it was true. It was. “A lot better.”
“Fat crisis averted?”
Now I smiled for real. “Yes. Thank you.”
* * * * *