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It was the first real spring weekend, and the daffodils poked their cheerful faces out to bask in the warmth of the Easter sun. Marcus smiled, thinking about his dad and how he used to love playing host to friends and family who’d all come over to help eat the mounds of barbecued meat that he loved cooking.
Marcus flipped over the three burgers, just as Damien had done hundreds of times in the past. He blinked and coughed when a gust of wind caught a trail of smoke and cast it into his face. Tears spilled down his cheeks, partly because of the acrid fumes but also because of the memory of his father holding court over the garden guests.
‘Are you okay, Marcus?’ asked Hope. ‘Are you thinking about Dad?’
‘Yes, Hope, I was. He used to love doing barbecues in the garden. A little old lady used to live next door, and she always moaned about the smell. Daddy would always get back on her good side with food and drink.’
Hope beamed. ‘Daddy was great, wasn’t he? I wish that he could take me to school one day.’
‘He would have loved to. I have to say, though, that he would’ve also loved to try and embarrass you.’ Marcus laughed, remembering how Damien would try and kiss him in front of his friends just to make him go red.
‘Hello?’ The garden gate at the side of the house squeaked opened, the catch rattling free from its hook. Rocky barked, but the enthusiastic wagging of his tail suggested the visitor was welcome.
Hope jumped up and ran to the gate. ‘Saffie!’ she squealed.
A thrilled looking girl flung her arms open and squealed just as loudly, ‘Hope!’
‘I missed you, Saffron,’ Hope said, smiling.
Marcus recognised Saffron’s mother, Rebecca Rigg, who fussed around the pair and said, ‘Calm down, girls, it’s only been two days since school broke up for the Easter holiday.’
Rebecca and Marcus chatted most days at school while waiting for the younger girls to finish classes. Marcus was eight years younger than Rebecca, but it didn’t feel to him as though she was the same generation as his parents despite Saffron being the same generation as his sister. The same went for most of the other parents at the school run, so Marcus felt like he was in between generations. Rebecca took a real interest in how Marcus was dealing with becoming an orphan. Nicola did too, but as she was Nancy’s best friend, Marcus felt that he needed someone a bit more removed from the family to talk to. They also had something in common, in that Rebecca’s father had simply vanished off the face of the earth some years previously.
When Marcus was growing up, he loved talking to adults, sometimes more so than his peers, so he didn’t feel like a duck out of water while standing with and talking to the older adults.
He particularly liked chatting to Rebecca; she seemed to connect with Marcus more than simply ‘another parent.’ Today, she seemed to be dressed up more than Marcus expected for someone who was going to a barbecue with their child.
Marcus grinned at the new arrivals, feeling very much like the man of the house. He wafted a spatula at a cool box and said, ‘Hi Rebecca, help yourself to a drink. Great timing, the first burgers have just cooked.’
Rebecca scowled and looked at her feet. ‘Thanks, but I’m vegetarian.’
Marcus could’ve died with embarrassment. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’
‘Just kidding, Marcus!’ Rebecca said. ‘You went a lovely red colour there though.’
Marcus blushed an even deeper shade of crimson. Oh God, I wish the floor would open up and swallow me.
Just then, the gate opened again, and another two girls from Hope’s year and their mums saved the day. Hope greeted her friends, Rachel and Caroline, with as much gusto as she had greeted Saffron. The three mums stood chatting to each other, much to the relief of Marcus. His suspicion that Rebecca was more dressed up than normal was confirmed when he looked over at the women. The other two mums, Lisa and Paula, were wearing casual jeans and tops with trainers. They looked like they could be sisters with their hair in the same style. Both had a long ponytail that bobbed along with them as they chatted and waved their arms around. Rebecca’s jeans were that bit tighter, her top that bit lower and her hair had clearly had more attention lavished on it.
Rocky had been sat under the large garden table in the shade before the guests arrived, but he too was soon involved in the fun and games. However, after an hour or so, he slid back to his hiding spot to escape the hyperactive kids and have a much-needed nap.
Marcus eventually got to the bottom of the pile of meat and kept the last hotdog for himself. With a good squirt of mustard and ketchup, he smiled at the finished product and realised that he felt happier than he had done for a long time. It feels like life is moving on nicely. He sat with his hot dog and cracked open a can of Stella Artois. The sun was shining on the garden, and Hope and her friends were having fun. Rebecca, Lisa and Paula were still chatting, so Marcus sat back and turned up the music.
Nicola, unbeknown to Marcus, had sneaked into the garden through the house and whispered ‘boo’ into his ear. He jumped and almost fell off his chair. The assembled women howled with laughter as Marcus tried to catch his breath.
‘Sorry, Nicola, I’ve just cooked the last hotdog. Do you want me to see if there is anything in the freezer? Or I can make you a sandwich?’
Nicola put a maternal hand on his shoulder. ‘No, it’s okay, Marcus...I’ll just starve.’ The glint in her eye told him that she wasn’t even hungry. She sat next to him and pulled a can of beer out of the cool box. ‘Looks like you need to restock with more drink. You should’ve put some wine in here too.’
Nicola gazed over at the three mums. It didn’t escape her attention that Rebecca was dressed up and kept peeking across at Marcus. She also noticed that Marcus was sneaking glances in Rebecca’s direction too. She couldn’t help but wink at him with pride. This could be good for him. He is doing well, considering, and there is a real spark between them... Hang on, he hasn’t blushed... this is serious!
The next couple of hours were blissful, and Nicola felt the most relaxed that she had done for ages, as did Marcus. Hope was supercharged with seeing her friends, guzzling plenty of fizzy drinks that she wasn’t normally allowed, and she was eating her body weight in sweets, mainly thanks to the fact that Saffron, Rachel and Caroline had all brought sweets with them to share with each other. It was a miracle that none of them had been sick on the lawn, although it wouldn’t have been the first time that someone had thrown up at a Lennon garden party.
Paula, Rebecca and Lisa sat with Marcus and Nicola, and Marcus thoroughly enjoyed the time spent chatting about nothing in particular. He was also very pleased that he had bought a new cantilever parasol from a voucher email company; the sun didn’t stop shining the whole time and although it wasn’t very warm, he was sure that someone would have been sunburned. Probably me with my ginger hair.
As the light faded and the evening chill closed in, the visitors drifted away one by one. Rebecca and Saffron were the last of the school crowd to leave. Marcus saw them to the gate, as did Hope.
As Rebecca was about to walk away, Marcus heard himself saying to her, ‘Thanks for coming. You look lovely by the way, Rebecca. We should try and have a catch up in the holidays. Send me a message.’
Although this was exactly what he wanted to say to her, his words took him back. It was almost as if his mouth had overtaken his brain.
‘Yeah, I’ll do that,’ replied Rebecca, much to his surprise.
Feeling like ten men, Marcus sauntered back to the garden and lit a fire in the fire pit—another new addition he had bought in the black tag sales online.
Hope said, ‘Can I watch some telly please, Marcus?’
‘Yeah, go for it, darling,’ Marcus replied and watched his little sister trot into their home. He sat and properly relaxed for the first time since firing up the barbeque earlier in the day.
‘I recognise that look,’ Nicola said.
‘Huh? What do you mean?’
Nicola put her hand on Marcus’ shoulder. ‘The look of love, dear boy.’ As she smiled and looked into his eyes, searching for clues about his feelings, she convinced herself that she was right.
Marcus thought about trying to evade Nicola’s questioning for a brief moment, but he knew that resistance was futile. She was just as capable of interrogating him as his mother used to be. He opened another cold can of Stella Artois and took a satisfying chug of the lager.
‘I do like her, yes...’ he said, pushing his hand back through his hair. He looked at his mum’s friend and added, ‘How do you women do that? It’s like you are a psychic or something.’
Nicola pretended to look thoughtful. She took another can of lager from the cool bag and said, ‘You know, you must have heard of non-verbal communication? While you were flipping the burgers, drool was virtually dribbling from your mouth.’ Nicola sat and looked at Marcus, tilting her head as if waiting for a deep and meaningful answer.
Marcus finished the rest of his can in one deep swig and put his feet underneath his legs. She has me bang to rights. I wonder what she thinks about how Rebecca feels about me?
‘She likes you too, Marcus!’ Nicola said. ‘You boys are clueless when it comes to women. Why don’t you ask her on a date?’ Nicola didn’t move her eyes from Marcus, and she relished watching him squirm under her gaze.
He found a mole on his arm and, suddenly fascinated, began to rub it as if it could be erased. With a sigh, he said, ‘I think I have realised today that I have my own feelings too, and life isn’t just about trying to bring up Hope the best that I can. I have to look after myself too.’
‘Yes, you are right. How can you look after anyone if you don’t look after yourself first? You are doing a fantastic job with Hope—better, in fact, than a lot of biological parents could do.’ Nicola encouraged him with a warm smile. ‘And you are working at the museum and studying too. That’s a lot on your plate with no time for yourself.’ She leant forward and said in a quiet, caring voice, ‘Go on, ask her on a date. I am sure she will be happy.’
Marcus smiled, his face betraying how happy he was actually feeling. He sat forward and lobbed another bit of wood onto the fire pit, not caring about how stinky the smoke would make his clothes. He said, ‘You know what? I think I will do just that.’