Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

As Aron made it to the front door, a handsome young man barged past him at high velocity. He looked exceedingly flushed.

“What the?—?”

“I’ve done my bit,” the man said in a French accent as he threw his hands up in the air. “Now it’s up to you.”

Aron watched him dash back to the car which soon sped away. Tentatively, Aron walked into the house.

“Granny?”

“In the drawing room.”

He climbed the stairs to the first floor. He found her in the middle of the room, staring at a garment laid out on the sofa.

“Hey, Granny. What’s going on?”

She sighed. “I think I may have been a little sharp with Jean-Paul. I’m determined not to become one of those brides but honestly, he should have been here at nine.”

Aron joined her and put his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled into him. He drank in her familiar floral scent. She hadn’t changed her perfume all his life. Whenever he caught a whiff of it in public, he would scan the area in case Granny lay in wait. Even in New York. He never dropped his guard where she was concerned.

“You’re a good boy,” she said. “Always ready with a hug.”

“I get that from you. Now is there an issue with the suit?”

She wriggled free and fussed with the item. The ivory fabric looked expensive. As if there was ever any doubt.

“I don’t know. I’ve not tried it on yet. Josh had it sent over from New York and one of his dressmakers made the final adjustments.”

Aron frowned. “So, what’s stopping you?”

“It’s the silliest thing.”

“Go on.”

“I’m afraid.”

She was trembling. Aron took hold of her hand. In all the years he’d known her, he had never heard her say she was frightened of anything.

“Granny. What could possibly scare you?”

“I don’t know. When I married to your grandfather, I knew my way around our relationship. He spent a lot of time away and I lived as I wanted. What if I’m expected to change? I don’t know if I can.”

He stood away, resting his hands on her shoulders.

“Everyone I’ve spoken to since I came home has told me how much they love you exactly the way you are. Why on earth do you think the Professor would be any different? You’ve been friends for years. It’s not like he doesn’t know what he’s getting.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I sometimes worry I’m too much.”

“Never.”

“Now I know you’re fibbing.”

Aron chuckled. “You never disappoint a crowd. Do you think Joan Collins worries about overdoing it?”

“I suppose not.”

“Then go and get this suit on. Immediately if not sooner. I’m dying to see it. Josh has always made sure you look amazing. Remember that outfit he made you for my graduation. Everyone was desperate to know where you’d got it from.”

The glint returned to her eyes. Aron was proud that he’d restored it.

“Yes, I did rather make an impression, didn’t I? You’re right. Faint heart never won fair maiden. Give me a few minutes.”

She grabbed the suit and scuttled out of the room.

Alone, he wandered past the shelves of keepsakes. He gasped when he saw a beautiful shell that he and his grandpa had found in Cornwall. They had taken all the grandchildren for a week by the sea. Aron had been obsessed with shells and wanted to make a collage. He and Grandpa had combed the place for suitable material.

“Imagine her keeping that,” he said to himself.

His grandfather had been a loving man. Aron had moved in for a few years before he went to university. They had shared a love of the outdoors and old movies. However, it had been the Professor who’d unlocked Aron’s love of literature. They had spent hours discussing Dickens as well as other writers.

I wonder if Grandpa was ever jealous of that.

The Wimpoles and the Higgs had been friends for many years. Aron had no doubt that his grandfather would have given this marriage his blessing. He’d never been able to control Granny. He would probably get a kick out of someone else attempting it.

Not that the Professor would even think about doing something like that. Aron suspected the Prof would celebrate his new bride. Well, he hoped so or he’d have trouble from most of the neighbourhood.

Aron stopped at the window and stared down at the street that had featured so heavily in his life so far. It was deserted today yet memories flickered in Aron’s mind. Playing in the gardens with his siblings. The time that Granny arranged for a Father Christmas to ride a sleigh through the crescent, throwing presents to the children. And of course, having to move in.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Not all the memories were good ones. Yet, somehow his grandparents had helped him find joy in almost every situation. Granny had set her heart on helping him accept himself for who he was. So had Grandpa. It had been the lifeline he had so badly needed.

“What do you think?”

He spun round. His grandmother stood in the doorway. The ivory suit fitted her perfectly.

“Oh, Granny.”

“I won’t wear this blouse obviously. I’ve got something far more expensive.”

Aron crossed the room to get a better vantage point. He tugged at one of the sleeves.

“He’s even allowed for your cast.”

“And so he should. It’s partially his fault I have it.”

Aron frowned. They hadn’t properly discussed her attempt at amateur sleuthing. He certainly didn’t like the fact it had ended in a hospital visit. Even if the Professor had finally proposed as an outcome. She needed to be more careful. He couldn’t bear to think of anything awful happening to her.

Either way, he wasn’t going to rain on her parade on that particular day. Judging by the expression on Jean-Paul’s face earlier, they were treading a thin line. He had no intention of finding himself on the wrong side of it.

“He’s made up for it. You’ll make a stunning bride.”

“Thank you, darling. I have to say, I feel it.”

The doorbell rang. Anxiety instantly claimed Aron’s system.

“It’s only your father,” Granny said, squeezing his arm. “He loves you. Remember that.”

Aron shrugged. “I know. It’s just…”

“I understand. Go on, let him in. I’ll be down soon. We’re receiving him in the sunroom. There are pastries in the fridge and the coffee pot is on.”

Aron frowned. “You’ve baked?”

“Of course not. Guy from the bakers dropped it off while you were out. We have croissant, pain au chocolat and some mini quiches. I know they’re not strictly elevenses fayre but they looked far too good to pass up.”

Another burst of love for this woman hit him.

“I’ve missed you.”

The doorbell sounded out again.

“Off with you.”

She shooed him down the stairs.

As he got to the door, he swallowed hard and flung it open. As predicted, his father was on the other side. His hair had gone fully grey now and a few wrinkles had appeared. Even so, he still looked healthy. His father had always been a fitness fanatic. When things were at their worst with Aron’s mother, he and his dad would go out for long runs in the park.

“Dad.”

“Aron.”

His father pulled him into a tight embrace. Aron froze for a second then returned it.

“Let me look at you,” his father said, standing back. “Wow. Have you been working out?”

“Everyone does in New York.”

“It suits you.”

Aron led his father into the house.

“We’re in the sunroom,” Aron said over his shoulder.

“How informal. I don’t know if I should be honoured or worried. Where is she?”

“Upstairs. She tried on her suit.”

“And?”

“Beautiful.”

His father let out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness for that.”

They were in the sunroom now. The view of the garden made intense by floor-to-ceiling windows with plants on the inside. In the summer, Granny could throw them open and let the outside in. They had been a recent installation and Aron thoroughly approved.

His apartment in New York had a windowsill as an outside area. He wasn’t too far from Central Park though so he could go down there in the warm weather and escape the crazy city heat.

Aron sat down on the sofa. His father sat on the other end. A strange move when there were two very comfortable armchairs.

“Actually, I should get us a drink,” Aron said.

He began to get up. His dad reached across and took his hand.

“While we’ve got this time alone, there’s something I need to ask you.”

Slowly, Aron sat. He didn’t like the sound of this. Although, when his father had insisted on visiting, Aron had suspected there was an ulterior motive at play.

“Oh yes?”

His father slowly took a breath. Aron noticed he was still reaching out for his son.

This is really fucking weird.

“It’s your mother…”

Oh God, is she dying?

“What about her?”

They both snapped to attention. Granny marched into the kitchen that led off the sunroom in an open-plan style. She had really perfected the art of entering a room at exactly the right moment.

“Mother.”

Aron’s dad leapt to his feet and crossed the room to Granny. She embraced him.

“You’re looking well,” he said.

“Yes, yes,” she said, pushing past him. “You know I hate small talk. Especially with one’s own son.”

She took her seat and allowed her son to settle back on the sofa.

“Come on, then, William. Spit it out.”

“Ah yes. Okay. Well. It’s that…your mother… she’d like to meet with you. Before the wedding.”

Aron was stunned. His mother hadn’t instigated as much as a text with him in years.

“Oh, does she now?” Granny said. “And I suppose we’re to indulge this magnanimous gesture, are we?”

Aron’s father looked at him, biting his lip. It appeared Aron held the deciding vote in this particular family conundrum. Granny had made it clear what she thought about it.

“I think it would be a good idea,” his father said. “If it’s okay with you.”

Every fibre of his being told Aron to tell his mother where to shove it. All except a tiny part that was desperate to know what she wanted. Really.

He also didn’t feel like dealing with an atmosphere at the wedding. It had been playing on his mind ever since he’d heard about the nuptials in the first place. Things had been frosty at other family gatherings over the years.

“Aron?” Granny asked. “Would you like that?”

He stared his father straight in the eyes. If he was about to throw himself into the lion’s den once more, he would make sure he had far more protection that his younger self. With age came wisdom.

“I have some conditions.”

“I thought you might,” his father replied. “Go on.”

Aron fought the smirk when he caught sight of Granny beaming at him. He could well imagine her pride at that moment. A real chip off the old block.

“I’m not going to be asked to behave in a certain way at the wedding. If Mother is trying to influence that, she can forget it.”

“I can guarantee there are no ulterior motives,” his father said. “Anything else?”

“We meet on neutral ground. I’m not coming to the house.”

His father winced.

“It hurts me because I still consider that house to be your home?—”

He was interrupted by Granny huffing.

“It’s a bit late for that, the way she’s behaved,” Granny said.

His father closed his eyes and let the moment pass. Aron suspected it was taking patience on his father’s behalf not to rise to Granny’s bait. Aron felt bad for him. Ever since his mother had rejected Aron, his father had been caught in the middle. He also loved him fiercely for refusing to share in his wife’s opinion.

“How about The Dorchester? Is that neutral enough?”

“A strong choice,” Granny conceded. “Tell Albert we’ll have my usual booth. It’s in the corner. Total privacy.”

“We?”

“If you think I’m sending this lad into the jaws of your wife unsupported, you don’t know me very well at all.”

His father sighed. “Fine.”

“And please make it clear to Jacasta, Aron’s wedding invitation is far less precarious than hers. Just in case things were to get shaky.”

Aron stifled a grin. Trust Granny not to leave anything to chance.

“I know very well how you feel about her and I dare say that I don’t blame you,” his father said. “I’ve always been very clear it’s not a view that I share.”

Aron smiled. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Dad. I’m a bit suspicious. You can’t blame me. I’m still gay old me. Probably more so now I’ve been influenced by New York. She made it perfectly clear that would never work for her. I can’t see how this stalemate is going to change.”

His dad held his hands up. “This request came from her. I’m as amazed as you. I promise you, son, I will not allow any unpleasantness. You can trust me even if you don’t trust her.”

The earnest expression with which has father had delivered those words meant Aron needed no more convincing. He owed it to his dad to make whatever headway they could. Maybe his mother had seen a pride parade and realised the error of her ways.

Fat chance.

“Okay then,” he said. “Let’s see what she wants.”

Granny nodded. She would be more curious than he was. Perhaps he owed it to her as well. As bodyguards went, she was the best. His mother wouldn’t dare cause trouble while Granny’s evil eye remained firmly fixed on her.

It still hurt him deeply that he even needed protection from the woman who gave him life. Yet, she’d given him that gift with a whole load of strings.

And he’d failed her.

His therapist had told him it was the other way around. Yet, he’d never fully believed it. At least he had an appointment booked for the day after he got back to New York.

A wise move evidently.