Practice Makes Perfect Page 15

  Because now Dan would get to meet the Julia that her mother knew.

  And, for all his patience and optimism, there was no way he would ever look at her the same way again.

  ‘My darling girl,’ cried Candace, as Julia opened the door. ‘What a gem of a house – no wonder I couldn’t find it, my angel! Blink and you’d miss it.’ She clutched tightly at Taffy’s bicep as though it were the only thing holding her up. Julia knew from bitter experience that it probably was.

  ‘Mum, what a nice surprise,’ Julia said, stepping aside to welcome her in. It would no more have occurred to Julia to hug or kiss her mother than it would have to Candace.

  Dan on the other hand had clearly not been briefed. ‘Mrs Channing. What a pleasure to meet you, I’m Dan.’ He kissed her on both cheeks and was clearly not prepared for the tenaciousness of her grasp or the intensity of her inspection.

  ‘So you’re the boyfriend,’ she said, her tone so completely ambiguous that Julia could see the confusion flit across Dan’s face. She caught Taffy’s gaze and mouthed her thanks. He nodded and to his absolute credit, made no comment about her mother’s inebriated state or her lack of shoes. The silk dress she was wearing and the remains of some glamorous nail extensions at least proved that she’d made the effort to look respectable when she’d left home. Obviously none of those good intentions had survived the drinks trolley on the train.

  Julia experienced a sudden flush of panic. ‘Mum, you didn’t drive here, did you?’

  Taffy spoke up quickly. ‘She was outside the train station. Don’t worry. I checked.’ He leaned in and kissed her fleetingly on the cheek, an unusual display of affection between the two of them that seemed to be the only way to communicate his support and concern. ‘We’re leaving first thing tomorrow now – bit of an early start planned, if I can actually persuade Holly out of bed, but if you need anything just drop me a text tonight, okay?’

  ‘Thank you,’ mouthed Julia again, as Taffy made his excuses and left.

  Watching him walk away down the lane, back to Holly and the twins and some semblance of normality, Julia felt as though, yet again, she were waving goodbye to her chance at ever having that simple domesticity in her life. In that moment, of course, she had chosen to ignore the fact that the tableau of domesticity she was now apparently mourning was everything Dan was offering her.

  Chapter 15

  With Elsie’s words of ‘pish tosh, stop worrying about me – bugger off and have a lovely time’ still ringing in her ears, Holly stared out of the car window as they barrelled along the M4. Apparently Grace was now planning on a sleepover at Elsie’s and Holly half-wondered whether she knew what she was letting herself in for. Grace, it seemed, had ‘Project’ virtually stamped on her forehead and Elsie was practically chomping at the bit to get started. There had been talk of designing a ‘blog’, the content of which was being treated as a hotly guarded secret, and Holly could only hope that Elsie’s Wi-Fi had a cut-out switch for after the second Martini.

  Holly tried to quash the tiny flicker of resentment that Grace got to spend the evening with Elsie, while she got to play ‘Happy Family’ with her not-even-in-laws.

  As the CD changer clicked over and the Best of C-Beebies started to play at full volume, Holly burst out laughing. Without missing a beat, Taffy and the twins were singing along with Gigglebiz and Holly couldn’t help but notice that all three were word perfect.

  To give Taffy his due, he hadn’t batted an eye-lid at the vast quantity of teddy bears stuffed into the back seat, or at the emergency vomit-stop on the hard-shoulder. He had however looked a little perplexed at the fourth wee break, completely failing to grasp Ben’s fascination with the motorway services and Tom’s obsession with tins of travel sweets. But all in all, he was doing extremely well on his maiden family voyage.

  ‘What?’ he said suddenly, turning his head briefly to look in her direction. ‘Stop staring at me, Graham. I mean, I know it’s tricky being in a confined space with all this charisma, but you’re making me feel objectified.’

  She laughed. ‘You’re doing alright at this road trip business, you know.’

  He gave her a long appraising stare. ‘Then do me a favour and stop looking for problems, will you. I’ve never heard anyone get so flustered about mucking up the directions. Besides,’ he said, ‘as road trips go, we haven’t even started yet. We’ve got travel games and popcorn in reserve.’

  ‘And these games you speak of?’ Holly asked. ‘Are these for the twins’ benefit or yours?’ She couldn’t resist teasing him; he looked so proud of himself for the little bag of ‘in-flight entertainment’ he’d put together.

  He grinned. ‘Well, I have to confess that there is something rather lovely about having two eager and willing participants. Dan gets really bored with Twenty Questions on long journeys. I think it’s just because he’s rubbish at it, myself.’

  ‘Try me,’ suggested Holly.

  ‘Ok-ay,’ said Taffy, ‘but let’s make this interesting. You see, it’s probably a good time to mention that we’re not actually going straight to my parents’ house. I thought we could have a little pit-stop somewhere lovely for a night on the way: we get to chill just the four of us and then it’s only the one night of professional Twenty Questions for you.’

  Holly swallowed hard, a little blind-sided by his thoughtfulness. ‘Well, that sounds really rather lovely. And also explains the need for directions – I did think it was a bit weird that you didn’t know the way.’ She threaded her fingers through the long fur on Eric’s ears as he sat happily by her feet; there had certainly been no space for him in the boot once umpteen wet weather supplies and crabbing nets had been wedged into place.

  Taffy grinned. ‘It’s basically a bribe. And you don’t know where we’re going yet . . . So, over to you, Twenty Questions, yes or no only. Go . . .’

  ‘Erm . . . Have I been there before?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Really?’ she clarified, sounding surprised, as she could only think of one or two occasions in her life when she’d crossed the border into Wales.

  ‘Yes. And that’s two questions down.’

  ‘No, that’s not fair! I didn’t know we were taking things that seriously.’

  He shrugged. ‘Don’t mess with the rules of Twenty Questions, Graham. It’s basically tradition in my house. I’m only getting you warmed up for when you meet my brothers – they’re virtually Ninjas at this.’

  ‘Can you be a Ninja at Twenty Questions?’ queried Holly, momentarily confused.

  ‘Yes. And that’s three.’

  Holly spluttered, indignantly, ‘I’m seeing a whole new side to you today.’

  He shrugged unapologetically. ‘Well, you’d best get used to it. Like I said, I’m the warm-up act.’ He pressed stop on the CD and called through to the boys in the back, ‘Right, you two, we’re coming up to the border. Are you ready?’

  They nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’ve never been to a whole other country before,’ announced Tom in wonderment. Holly just tried not to laugh at his earnest anticipation. She hoped he wouldn’t feel too let down when a few miles along the road, everything looked pretty much the same . . . For a little while at least.

  ‘Three. Two. One,’ said Taffy and the three boys burst into song. How Taffy had found time to teach them the Welsh national anthem, Holly did not know. How he’d managed to get them to sing, not just in tune, but in harmony, was beyond her. As the car rattled along and the boys sang lustily behind her, she felt really rather choked up. She reached across and squeezed Taffy’s knee.

  ‘I love you,’ she whispered.

  ‘I bloody hope so,’ he whispered back. ‘I’d hate to feel like I was in this on my own.’ He looked worried for a moment. ‘Let’s just hope you still feel the same on the way back.’

  As Taffy manoeuvred the fully-laden car into a tiny space on the sea-front, Holly couldn’t help but be impressed: firstly, by his expertise with the parallel-parking and secondly, by his ch
oice of ‘somewhere lovely’.

  She slipped out of the car and looked out across Saundersfoot Bay, the gulls circling and cawing above her head. Taffy was quite right: she had been here before – for the bonkers tradition of swimming in the sea on New Year’s Day – whatever the weather. It was strange to realise how rarely she thought of that special day with her dad, yet it had been one of their most treasured times together. Yet another act of self-preservation, she assumed. But actually being there, breathing the same air and smelling that heady aroma of chips with salt and vinegar . . . She probed the memory, like an aching tooth, seeing how far she could go before the pain began and she realised that she could finally think about that day without sadness. It felt like a gift.

  ‘I thought that, since we were having a meet-the-family weekend, you could show the boys where their grandpa used to bring you,’ said Taffy, coming to stand beside her, as the twins carried on sleeping in the back of car, worn out by the fifteen or so renditions of ‘Land of My Fathers’ they had performed with gusto as they’d barrelled along the motorway, the scenery changing with each passing mile.

  ‘We’ll be needing to have fish and chips for lunch, you know,’ she said.

  Taffy turned her shoulders until she was looking in the other direction at her beloved top-notch chippie, The Mermaid on the Strand. ‘Dairy-free and all booked in,’ he said, so chuffed with himself he looked as though he might burst. ‘But that will have to wait, I’m afraid, because there are sandcastles to be built and moats to be filled. There’s probably some decorating with sea shells, if you fancy it?’

  She walloped him playfully on the arm. ‘Bog off. None of that stereotyping, thank you. I shall have you know that I was once the Saundersfoot Sand Castle Champion.’

  ‘When you were, like, nine . . .’ he countered. ‘Are you prepared to put your money where your mouth is, that’s the question. Loser buys lunch, mate.’

  Holly must have looked as bemused as she felt as Taffy immediately reined himself in. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Got a bit carried away. You see Dan likes to . . .’

  ‘I’m not Dan,’ she reminded him.

  ‘Indeed you aren’t,’ he said, thoroughly kissing her until a little hand banging on the window disturbed them.

  ‘I’m awake now!’ announced Ben unnecessarily. ‘Can we play in the sea?’

  Several hours later and after a mammoth helping of fish and chips for lunch, their sandcastle had reached epic proportions. There were tunnels and moats and bridges and crenellations. It was also interesting to note that Holly’s skills in moulding a sturdy turret had won her praise and awe from not just the twins, but also – slightly begrudgingly – from Taffy.

  They cracked open the flask of hot chocolate and some biscuits, determined to stay on the beach for every last moment, even if it was starting to feel a bit chilly.

  Eric whined pitifully on the end of his lead, casting accusatory glances at Holly every time she looked his way. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to frolic in the waves or leap all over the lovely castle they had built. To give him his dues, Eric certainly knew how to work those big brown eyes of his and managed to make Holly feel ridiculously guilty, to the point that she kept apologising to him. At which he would turn his back on her and sulk.

  ‘Dear God, he’s like a hormonal teenager,’ said Taffy. ‘What happened to his adorable puppy years?’

  ‘He grew,’ said Holly. ‘My main concern at the moment is when he’s going to stop growing. Well, that and the fact that eating a meal with him watching every mouthful is a bit like being back at school.’

  Taffy tossed Eric a small chunk of his biscuit and earned himself a filthy look from Holly for his troubles. ‘Back at school?’ he asked, by way of distracting her from the inevitable puppy training talk that was brewing.

  ‘What? Oh, you know, when the girls got all competitive about who could eat the least and then would watch every single mouthful you dared take from plate to mouth like a pack of judgemental but hungry vultures? “Are you going to eat that whole apple? You are brave, the way you don’t care what anybody thinks . . .” ’ Her words petered out, as she saw the look of complete and utter confusion on Taffy’s face.

  ‘Girls are weird,’ he said simply. ‘Boys are easy. Eat. Run. Fight. Eat again. We’re very simple souls really.’

  Holly nodded. Living with three of the male species (four when Eric was with them) had been quite the eye-opener. Milo had always been rather metro-sexual around the house; true, his piles of laundry and squalor were a sight to behold, but he had been otherwise meticulous about his personal hygiene and there were never any bags of sweaty sports kit hanging around. Milo hadn’t gone for team sports. He ran. Alone. It was kind of symbolic in a way. Whereas Taffy’s every pursuit was a raggle-taggle bunch of mates just getting on with it and having fun, even if his sporting paraphernalia did seem to be slowly colonising her utility room.

  ‘In fact,’ Taffy continued, ‘my mum is a big believer in raising boys like you raise your dog. Lots of fresh air, exercise and food. And hugs obviously. And she kind of has a point. Look at the twins . . .’

  Holly looked over to where two exhausted small boys were snuggled together under a picnic blanket: tired, contented, with little pink cheeks and fighting the urge to doze. They’d demolished every meal that had been put in front of them, run circles around and around on the beach and matched Taffy trip for trip with bucketfuls of water for the moat of their castle. It had been a perfect day.

  Holly’s gaze skittered across to Eric, who looked similarly healthy but definitely up for more. He had stationed himself firmly across Holly’s legs now, so that every time she moved he could stare at her longingly to let him off the lead.

  Taffy reached over and scruffed his ears. ‘You’re a big soft nutter, aren’t you?’ Eric responded by licking his hand enthusiastically.

  ‘Takes one to know one,’ Holly teased him, pinching the last biscuit from under Taffy’s nose.

  He tried, but utterly failed, to look affronted. ‘Listen here, Graham. I happen to be an excellent advert for the Spaniel Approach to Raising Boys. Me and my brothers used to disappear off to the woods with a picnic and be gone all day. We came home knackered and happy. Completely filthy, obviously, but that’s why we’re all so bloody healthy. Lots of mud. Probiotics in every gloop.’

  Holly listened, entranced as always by tales of a childhood that was totally alien to a city-dwelling only child. Taffy always spoke with such affection about his band of brothers; he made them seem invincible, a team to be reckoned with. His childhood of fields and woodland, tree-houses and dens, penknives and catapults sounded like something from a novel.

  To be totally fair, as much as she wanted her boys to have the perfect childhood, she wasn’t sure that she had it in her to untie the apron strings so completely. She wasn’t convinced that her personality was compatible with the risks and stresses of such free-range parenting, but then she reasoned, if you were a free-range parent, you probably weren’t the type to dwell on the threat of death and injury on an hourly basis.

  Having boys had certainly forced Holly to take a more relaxed view towards life, cleanliness and Health & Safety. She just wasn’t sure yet quite where the line between relaxed and negligent lay.

  Taffy casually peeled an orange in one perfect swirl with his penknife. ‘It occurs to me though, there are one or two things you should probably know about my family before they all drop me in it tomorrow. Fair warning and all that,’ he said seriously, into the momentary stillness. He laid the orange peel spiral down on the sand with a flourish, instantly earning both Holly and Eric’s undivided attention, albeit for different reasons.

  Holly looked up, his abrupt change of tone alone enough to set her warning bells jangling. She couldn’t stop the hint of suspicion that crept into her voice, old habits still apparently dying hard. ‘Was this whole day just to soften me up then, before you drop some big bombshell?’

  He shook his
head. ‘No!’ he said vehemently, realising his mistake. ‘And don’t go leaping to the very worst eventuality all the time – I just meant, that you seem to have built up this idyllic picture of my childhood, all puppies and lambs and band of brothers romping around the farm . . . I don’t want you to be disappointed by the reality.’

  ‘No puppies? No lambs?’ she clarified, more bothered than she would admit by her instinctive overreaction.

  ‘Oh no, there probably will be,’ he replied. ‘And my brothers will be there, with their wives and all their kids and it will be utter chaos and they’ll be taking the piss and . . . I just – well, to be honest, Holly, it’s making me nervous. And it’s no big deal, but I wanted to say– I wanted to say that . . . Oh shit, I’m getting this all wrong.’ He looked frustrated and forlorn – without humour to fall back on, his discomfort was obvious. ‘Oh dammit, Holly, I love the way you see me, okay? And I don’t want that to change once you’ve looked at me through their eyes. To them I’m just the squirt, the tagger-along, the baby brother. If you’re not used to it, they can seem a little . . .’ He held up his hands as though words failed him. ‘You know?’

  Holly frowned. She could honestly say she was none the wiser. Whenever Taffy spoke about his family it was with love and affection. Whenever she had expressed concerns about meeting them, he had reassured her that they would love her, simply because he did.

  And now this.

  Whatever this was.

  She could cheerfully strangle him for casting a shadow over their perfect day – the day that he had organised.

  ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘I really don’t know. I never had brothers, or sisters for that matter. So you’re the youngest, I get that. I know that. But you’re all adults now. What difference can that possibly make?’

  Taffy tossed the remains of his mangled orange to Eric who swallowed it in one bite. ‘All the difference in the world.’ he said quietly.