Bob puts his hands wide and smiles beatifically. ‘Jessica, I’ve always said you’re a lovely girl. I’ll tell you what it is.’ He leans forward in his seat as if he’s about to tell me a secret. ‘Good genes – and that’s just luck of the draw – but it’s all that golf too, you see. You’ve got to keep on the move, get plenty of fresh air – lovely! Plus it keeps me out of Sheila’s hair.’
‘Yes, it does,’ Ed’s mother agrees from the other side of the table, where she has Kate’s son and daughter sat on either knee, happily watching CBeebies on her phone, ‘but it’s having these little ones around,’ she nods down at the four-year-old twins and then over at our two-year-old son, James – sitting in a high chair, absorbed in fishing raisins out of a small box – ‘that really keep us young. We’re very lucky.’
‘We certainly are. It’s everything I ever dreamt of, actually,’ Bob says. ‘Everyone sat round this table right now means the world to me and Sheila. We couldn’t be prouder of all of you, and what you’ve done for yourselves. And your mother’s right; as for these little kiddies,’ he gestures at his grandchildren, ‘to say we feel blessed…’ His eyes well up, and he reaches into his pocket for a hanky as we all chorus ‘Ahhh!’, and Sheila says gently: ‘You soppy old thing.’
‘How much have you had, Dad?’ Ed laughs, and pats his father’s arm affectionately.
‘Enough to feel happy, not enough to need a nap,’ Bob shoots back. ‘It’s like old John Lennon says.’ He blows his nose. ‘Love’s like a boomerang: if you chuck it at people, it’ll come right back to you.’
Kate looks puzzled. ‘John Lennon never said that?’
‘Yes, he did,’ Bob insists. ‘Daniel will know.’ He turns in his seat to address Kate’s husband, returning from the bar carefully carrying three pints. ‘Didn’t John Lennon say love is like a boomerang, Daniel?’
‘Um.’ Dan sets the drinks down. ‘I think he said it was like a precious plant, actually. Are you thinking of Forrest Gump, perhaps?’
We all laugh, and Bob gives him a dismissive wave. ‘Ah – what do lawyers know anyway?’
‘Very little,’ agrees Daniel. ‘Luckily, I’m a barrister.’
‘Wwwooooo!’ we all chorus teasingly, and Daniel grins as he raises his glass. ‘Anyway, to the man of the moment. Happy birthday, Ed. Sorry, I just missed the candles.’
We all chink glasses, and Ed clears his throat. ‘Well on the occasion of my forty-second birthday, I would like to thank you all for helping me celebrate. I’d like to thank my son, James, for – by some miracle – sleeping in until half past seven this morning… and last but not least, I’d like to thank my beautiful wife, Jess, for agreeing to marry me exactly seven years ago today, which was only bettered by the wedding day itself, and then in turn by the day James was born. I couldn’t love you more than I do, and I can’t wait to move into our new house after Christmas, and start the next lot of adventures.’ He leans forward to kiss me, as the rest of his family chime in with ‘Hear, hear!’
A couple of waiters appear to clear the pudding bowls and ask if we’d all like fresh plates, and coffees? I decline, tell Ed I’m just popping to the loo, and remind him to keep an eye on James who is tucking into an enormous slice of cake.
* * *
I’m happily fluffing up my hair in the mirror, before returning back to the table, when suddenly a very pretty twenty-something girl bursts in, clutching her mobile, tears streaming down her face.
‘Are you alright?’ I ask instantly.
‘My boyfriend’s just finished with me!’
‘Oh! I’m so sorry!’ I say, thinking she means by phone. ‘Can I go and get someone for you?’
She shakes her head. ‘No, thank you. He’s waiting out in the car to drive me home. I’ve just tried to call my mum and dad, but they’re not answering.’ She looks in the mirror despairingly. ‘And now he’s going to know I’ve been crying. He said he’s met someone else.’ More tears well up, and I reach into a cubicle for some tissue to pass her.
‘Thank you,’ she sobs, trying to get herself under control. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Please don’t worry. You’ve just had a nasty shock.’ I hesitate. ‘You know, the person who is right for you is out there somewhere now. Probably just having his lunch, wondering what to do with the rest of his afternoon. You will meet him one day, I promise.’
She tries to smile but can’t. She looks heartbroken.
‘It’s true,’ I insist, emboldened by my lunchtime glass of Prosecco and her poor, sad little face. ‘You will be happy again.’ I suddenly see myself at her age; carefully propping Ben’s ‘Dear John’ letter on the kitchen table, grabbing my bag and getting into the taxi – and my smile fades slightly. ‘You can’t see how it’ll ever happen, but somehow it does. Trust me.’ I reach for the door, and brighten again. ‘Usually when you’re not looking for it, and in the most ordinary of places. You take care of yourself.’
‘Thank you,’ she says gratefully as I give her a final smile of encouragement, and leave.
* * *
I sit back down next to Ed, and he gives my leg a friendly pat. ‘Hello. I was beginning to think you’d fallen in.’
‘I was busy dispensing relationship advice to strangers. Hello, darling.’ I lean forward and kiss James. ‘Who’s my best boy?’
James grins, points at himself and says: ‘JAMES!’
‘Yes, you are! And what’s your favourite food, James?’
James considers that for a moment and announces delightedly ‘CAKE!’, holding a sticky handful of sponge aloft.
‘Yes, it is!’ I agree, before reaching under the table to get a wipe from my bag. ‘There was a young girl crying in the loos because her boyfriend had just finished with her for someone else.’
Ed pulls a sympathetic face. ‘Poor kid. Still, s-h-i-t’, he spells out, ‘happens.’
I laugh. ‘Yes, that’s not exactly what I told her. I said she’ll probably meet the person who’s right for her when she’s not even looking.’
Ed sits back, interested, and crosses his arms. ‘Like – I don’t know – when she’s on a train?’
I glance at him, and grin. ‘Yes. Probably when she’s minding her own business, trying to read her book after work and doesn’t want to talk to anyone.’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘So this very good-looking bloke will keep trying to engage her in conversation, but fail totally – so he’ll have to try again once they’ve got off the train, and confess to her that he only got on it in the first place because he’d seen her standing on the platform… he’d actually been intending to go in the opposite direction. And then he might persuade her he wasn’t a nutter… they’d go for dinner a week later – and be engaged within the year. Something very romantic like that you mean?’ He leans forward.
I kiss him. ‘Not that he’d go on about it, or anything. Come on – let’s get the bill before your dad tries to pay for everyone, shall we?’
* * *
Once we’ve said goodbye to the rest of the family, and begin a slow amble home, my mind drifts back to Chichester – and Ben. I remember exactly how it felt closing the door to the house, knowing I would never return. I literally walked out on my life. We stroll a little further in easy silence, Ed’s arm companionably round my shoulder while James sleeps in the pushchair – before I remark aloud: ‘I can’t actually believe it’s seventeen years on Tuesday.’
Ed glances at me. ‘Did you ask Mum if she can have James for the afternoon so you can go down to Chichester and do the flowers?’
‘Yes, and she said that’s fine, which is very kind of her.’ I hesitate. ‘Ed – does it honestly not bother you that Ben still sends me a white rose every year on Beth’s anniversary?’
He looks surprised. ‘No. Of course not.’
‘It would bother a lot of people, I think.’
‘It’s nothing to do with me,’ he says. ‘I don’t mean that rudely, just that it’s a part of your life that’s private to you and Ben. It’s a flower once a year, it’s not like you’re both chatting to each other all the time. I don’t feel threatened by it any more than I should think Ben’s wife does. She’s got two kids of her own; I’ve got James. We understand about Beth. I actually think it’s very special what you and Ben do.’