Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

Two hours later and Aron was ready to roll. He took a step away and admired himself in the mirror. He had splurged on a midnight blue Ralph Lauren suit from Saks Fifth Avenue. He coupled this with a crisp white shirt and a gold tie.

“I hope I do her proud.”

He had also applied a ridiculous amount of concealer under his eyes in an attempt to kill off the bags. He hoped it would do the trick. At least for the photos.

Bloody Paul Higgs.

He jogged down the stairs and walked into total pandemonium.

Anais sat on the window seat, barking instructions into her mobile. Judging by the peach handkerchief she clutched, there had been another confrontation with the bride.

A hairdresser was getting Granny’s hair into shape, a makeup artist was lighting up her eyes and Alexander was chatting away about something. Granny sat in the middle. Totally serene.

Aron stepped farther into the drawing room and stopped. His mother and Victoria were on the second sofa.

“Oh,” he said. “Hello.”

Of course they would be here. They had just as much right as he did. They were all family after all. In name at least.

“Where’s Dad?”

“Whipping up some drinks downstairs,” Granny said. “And not a moment too soon. Things have taken a turn since you went to get ready.”

There were no seats except the arm of the sofa where his mother was sitting. Aron desperately wanted to feel comfortable enough to perch there. Yet he didn’t. So he stood awkwardly in the centre of the room with all eyes on him.

“I believe your father wanted a word,” his mother said. “Before the wedding.”

“Did he?” Aron replied, a little too loudly. “I’d better go then.”

He dashed out of the drawing room and down the stairs.

What can he want?

Aron braced himself for bad news. Summons in the Wimpole family rarely meant good.

He found his father loading a tray with a bottle of champagne and glasses.

“There you are,” he said. “Wow. You scrub up well.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Aron replied. “Did Granny choose that suit?”

“What do you think?”

His father looked very handsome in his grey suit. Of course, Granny wouldn’t take a chance. He was walking her down the aisle, after all.

Aron opened the fridge and found the smoked salmon nibbles the caterers had delivered that morning. He’d eaten that much of the stuff over the last few days he would have to go on a major diet when he got back home.

Home? Wherever that is.

“I think we should encourage food wherever possible,” he said. “Did you want to speak to me? Mum said you did.”

“Yes. I’ve checked this out with your Granny and she is in complete agreement with me.”

Aron frowned. “This sounds ominous. Should I be sitting down?”

“Not at all. After much discussion, we’d both like you to walk her down the aisle instead of me.”

Aron actually staggered backward.

“Me? Walk her down the aisle?”

“Yes.”

“I couldn’t. That’s your job.”

His father chuckled. “You two have always had a special bond. It would mean so much to all of us.”

“Mum included?”

“Yes. Your mother included,” his father said forcefully. “Is there no way you can find it in your heart to even take a step toward her?”

Aron placed the food down on the kitchen counter. “Why now? Don’t tell me she’s been overwhelmed with family love because of the wedding.”

“I think you should ask her that. At least talk to her. Just the two of you.”

It was too much to ask. There were so many nights where he’d cried himself to sleep for him to be able to even hope. No, they were in a place now where they weren’t hurling insults as soon as they set eyes on each other. That was the progress that his father would have to settle for.

“I can’t,” he said firmly. “It hurt too much. I won’t make a scene today but I’ll be returning to New York soon. I’ve had enough drama this week to last the whole of next year. I can’t risk it, I’m afraid.”

“That makes me sad,” his father replied. “For what it’s worth, I believe she is genuine.”

Aron despised himself but he was at his limit.

“Then she will be genuine another time. Let me think about it.”

“What about giving Granny away?” his father said hurriedly, “At least say yes to that.”

Aron squeezed his father’s arm. “I’d love to.”

“That’s great news. Let’s go and tell the others.”

Just as he picked up the tray, the doorbell rang.

“It’s like Piccadilly Circus in here,” Aron grumbled. “Go on up. I’ll get it.”

Cramming a smoked salmon blini in his mouth, he bounded down the hallway. Ready to fend off another member of the Beatrice Wimpole fan club. Alexander had snuck through. He wasn’t going to let any of the others in.

He opened the door to find Paul staring back at him. Aron gasped, instantly choking on the blini. He bent over, coughing uncontrollably.

“Are you okay?” Paul asked.

Aron gestured wildly at his throat. Paul instantly came up behind him and wrapped his arms around Aron’s torso. With three quick hard jolts, the blini came free and shot onto the pavement.

Aron held onto the metal fence for a second. His eyes were streaming and his throat was burning.

“Did I just save your life?” Paul asked.

Aron snapped upright. “You nearly cost me it, you idiot. What are you doing here?”

Paul’s face clouded over.

“I thought we should clear the air before the ceremony.”

“You pick your moments,” Aron said. “Do you have the house bugged and swoop in whenever we’re having a nice time?”

Nihal Varma and Carl Carrington passed them by.

“All well in HQ?” Nihal shouted across.

“Getting there,” Aron replied with a smile.

“Can we talk somewhere more private?” Paul asked. “Let me say my piece and then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

“Fine. Come on.”

With his heart racing, part at the near-death experience and part wondering what the hell Paul had to say now, Aron led him into the house. He took him all the way up to his bedroom. It was their only chance at getting any peace. Especially with Granny’s glam squad taking up most of the house.

When they got up the two flights of stairs, he sat down on the end of the bed and gestured for Paul to take the armchair in the window.

“Go on then,” Aron said.

“I’m flying to Sydney tomorrow for work. I thought you should know now in case I don’t get a chance at the wedding.”

Stunned wasn’t a strong enough word for what Aron was experiencing at that moment.

So he’s not coming to tell me how wrong he was and to fall into my arms then.

“Yes, I can see how you would struggle with finding me. Seeing as we’re on the same table for the reception.”

Paul shifted. “I’m hardly going to announce it to everyone before I had a chance to speak to you.”

“I suppose I should be grateful that you’re actually telling me this time. We really are making progress.”

Paul got up. “I don’t want to part on bad terms. I’m still coming back to London so we’re bound to bump into each other.”

Aron was fixed to the bed. If he tried to get up, he feared his legs would collapse under him.

“Don’t worry. Our interactions will be as limited as humanly possible,” Aron said bitterly. “I won’t be going for the job at the British Library.”

“Not because of me, I hope.”

Aron gazed into his eyes. “Of course because of you. Why else?”

“Then I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

There was nothing more to say. Yet, Paul seemed fixed to the armchair. He stared at Aron until he began to feel uncomfortable.

“You should probably go,” Aron said. “I’m sure your father needs you far more than me, right now.”

“I guess so,” Paul replied. “I’ll see you later.”

He let himself out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. Aron stared into space. Even though nothing had strictly changed, it still felt like a bombshell had been dropped. There wasn’t even going to be another conversation. Paul was going to board an aeroplane and flee the scene.

Like bloody usual.

He hadn’t worked out what he’d expected from Paul’s speech. It hadn’t been that. He cursed himself for being surprised. Of course, Paul would run away. He wouldn’t take any other course of action.

His thoughts were broken by a knock at the door.

“Who the fuck now?” he cried out.

On wobbly legs, he bounded across the room and flung open the door.

It was his mother.

“Are you okay, son?”

It was too much. All the emotion that had led up to this moment just burst out of him.

“Oh, Mum,” he cried.

She cleared the space and took him in her arms. The familiar smell of her perfume and hairspray set off a dozen memories he’d locked away. Childhood memories of being comforted when he fell down. Bedtime stories. Endless arguments.

The tears fell from him as she held him close.

As he calmed, she led him over to the bed and they both sat on the end.

“One second,” she said.

She rooted in her handbag and pulled out a packet of tissues.

“I always cry at weddings,” she said. “Good job I came prepared.”

Now the storm had passed, the spectre of discomfort crept in.

Aron took a tissue and wiped his eyes. Great, now he would definitely look a fright at the wedding on top of everything else. No doubt his concealer had dripped onto his Ralph Lauren couture.

“That was the Professor’s son, wasn’t it?”

Aron nodded.

“A handsome man.”

Aron blew his nose.

“Has he broken your heart?”

The earnest way that she said this touched something in Aron.

“I suppose he has a bit. It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got the time,” she replied. “Your Granny isn’t even in her outfit yet.”

Aron frowned. “Why?”

“Sorry?”

“Why have you suddenly got the time? After all these years.”

She sighed. “It’s a fair question.”

“I’d like to hear the answer.”

She got up and walked over to the window. It had been many years since they had been in such close proximity alone. He took the chance to study her. A face almost as familiar as his own yet a total stranger nowadays.

“I don’t know when it started,” she said. “Not long after your grandfather died, I suppose.”

His maternal grandfather had been a pig of the highest order. He had disowned Aron and left him nothing. Of course, his siblings had offered to share the estate when he died but Aron wouldn’t take a penny of the old man’s money. He’d been touched at the gesture nonetheless.

“I hope you’re not going to say he poisoned your mind and once you were free from his shackles you remembered you had another son?”

She stiffened. “You asked for an answer. At least give me the courtesy of listening.”

He blushed. That outburst had sounded like the teenage Aron, railing against the world for not understanding him.

“I’m sorry. Go on.”

“Of course, I’m not going to blame your grandfather for my behaviour,” she said. “These things aren’t caused by one thing. You know what he was like, though. Your dad tried to play peacemaker but I came down firmly on grandfather’s side.”

“Why?”

“I thought I was doing the right thing for the others and…”

“And?”

She sighed. “I thought that I would end up losing you so it was easier to do it on my own terms. I couldn’t face grieving for my son and my father at the same time. Totally selfish, I realise. I’m not going to pretend to be perfect.”

Just as well.

“Anyway, one night your father came in the lounge after having one of his furtive phone calls to you.”

Only furtive because you demanded it be so.

Aron was quite proud that he’d only thought that. He remained silent on the outside. Perhaps he was learning some valuable lessons. No matter how painful they were.

“After he’d gone to bed, I suppose I cyberstalked you.”

Now this had got his attention.

“First the library website. Then your social media accounts. I saw your whole life. How much you’d achieved. And how much I’d missed.”

“Wow. I’ll have to check my privacy settings.”

“I know it sounds awful. The more I found out, the more I wanted to know. So I asked about your conversations.”

“And Dad folded under interrogation.”

“Pah,” she said. “He’s never been able to resist.”

Aron grinned despite having serious reservations about where this conversation was going.

“I know I ruined our relationship as mother and son,” she said. “But if you could see your way to maybe accepting me on Facebook, I promise I won’t comment or anything. I’d just love to be able to share in your triumphs. Even in that small way. I have no right to ask you. I realise that.”

She fiddled with a tissue in her hands.

“I can do that,” he said quietly.

She wiped a tear from her eye. “Really?”

He nodded. “I can’t pretend that everything will be okay,” he said. “We’ve both said some awful things. Let’s start as Facebook friends and see how it goes.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Now what about this man?”

Aron groaned. “What about him? We have a wedding to get going. He’ll have to go on ice for now. Come on, let’s go and see the blushing bride. I’ll be in trouble for being missing in action all this time.”

They set off down to the drawing room.

Could he put Paul on ice again? Or was it simply dead?

He had no control over that. He found it did feel nice to have had a conversation with his mother. Perhaps this Christmas, he had received a wonderful gift.

Like everything. Only time would tell.