Chapter 11

ELEVEN

‘YAM SENG!' I scream at the top of my lungs at Frank. I've learned a new term today at this Singaporean wedding. Apparently, it means ‘Cheers', and everyone shouts it heartily when they toast someone. These are the traditions to learn. Maybe that needs to be a new hobby. Learn ‘Cheers' in every language, so I can join in with celebratory drinking in every country I should ever want to visit.

I don't think I'm even that merry. The seven-course dinner seemed to absorb all the alcohol and the bitter night air of this rooftop terrace also seems to take the edge off. Whereas before the cold seemed to be felt in my very bones, I am now filled to the brim with scallops, lobster noodles and the crispiest roast pork – I may continue to dream about it all forever. It sits in my soul as happiness. The cold can no longer take me. I mean, it can't because I am also wearing two coats. Frank has gone back to his reliable and much warmer puffer jacket so I am in both wool coats.

‘Yam fucking seng,' Frank whispers with quiet satisfaction, and we sit there taking in the wonderfully festive ambience of this rooftop, the fairy lights, the London skyline sketched against the night sky, the thrum of a heavy disco beat in the background.

‘You were an excellent bridesmaid and a very good fake girlfriend. Thank you,' he says as we sit on this bench dissecting events.

I pretend to bow dramatically. ‘I walked in an incredibly straight line. Did you also see how I chatted to that aunty of yours and pretended I was interested in her sciatica?' I ask him. ‘I recommended acupuncture, you know. I may have very well cured her.' He nods, laughing. ‘I have a question, are they seriously all your aunties?'

‘Oh no, it's used as a term of respect to anyone a bit older. You treat everyone like family to the point that you lose track of who you're actually related to.'

I smile to think of the similarities with Gemma and her kids.

‘I'm sorry I was not a great fake boyfriend. I was running around a lot today. I hope you didn't feel abandoned.'

I shake my head at him, grinning. That was not the point of today. I didn't need to be looked after and I certainly didn't want to give Frank the wrong impression either. I care for him deeply as a human and friend and I think he's great, but just not like that.

‘Supposing the shoe was on the other foot and you had to create a back story for me. What would you have said?' he asks, jokingly.

‘Oooh, I like this game,' I say sitting up. ‘I'd have said, this is Frank. He got a first from Imperial, because that's true. He's a grand chess master, can identify every world flag, speaks Hungarian, Dutch and Gaelic and is a huge fan of David Attenborough.'

‘Attenborough?'

‘Yes, you're a big supporter of conservation, and the gravitas in his voice helps you relax. '

He laughs. ‘Bravo, I like that. But seriously, thank you for all you did today.'

‘Frank, I had like a Michelin-star style meal. I'm good,' I tell him patting my belly, happily.

‘Was some of it a bit weird?' he asks.

‘Not at all, it was all bloody delicious. I was expecting soup, roast dinner and some sort of tart.'

‘That's a terrible way to refer to my sister,' he says.

I laugh, my breath misting the air before turning back to him. ‘You always spoke about your family but I never thought they were that bad. I'm sorry.'

He shrugs his shoulders. ‘I guess I'm almost used to it.'

‘And you never mentioned you're loaded like this either.'

‘It's not my money. I don't really buy into it. I'm happy with my lot in life. I don't need to be dripping in Gucci to show my worth.'

It's such a wholesome statement that I smile and nudge him playfully on that bench.

‘I do wish they understood that worth. I don't like how you're the butt of their jokes.'

He looks down at the floor, dolefully. ‘Oh, there is love there, somewhere. I think at times it's well-meaning but at the end of the day, you can't choose your family.' I put an arm around him, resting my head on his shoulder, and he leans his head against mine. ‘Actually, no. You can. You, Leo and Jasper are the next best thing I have to it. I guess that balances it all out on the bad days,' he jokes.

He just said that, didn't he? He used the f-word to describe our work unit and once again, a tiny crack forms on the surface of my conscience. I hate the fact that I've been asked to break up our wonderful gang, and for a moment a wave of pure rage at HR fills my stomach with bilious anger.

‘Just promise me that you know how great you are, yeah?' I say .

He nods, smiling.

‘You know who also thinks you're kinda great?' I mention.

‘My aunty Suzette? She keeps my graduation photo on her wall.'

‘Norah,' I tell him, still confused why he hasn't twigged that much yet.

‘Norah-Norah?' he says, like I've told him to work out a very hard sum.

‘Maths Camp Norah. It's quite obvious, no?'

‘It is?'

‘She's always tracking you in the room, she has only truly positive things to say, she asked you to split that mango dessert thing with her.'

‘That's because she's nice,' he explains.

‘And it's because she has a crush on you,' I say, trying to spell it out with my hands.

‘But…' he mumbles.

‘I've done all the scouting. She's single, you know.'

I have a feeling I understand what it may have been like to have stood next to Pythagoras when he worked out his theorem, as Frank's face starts to comprehend what I've just told him. He jumps up from the bench and starts to quietly pace in front of me.

‘Norah? But then, how do I do that? Are you sure?' he says, turning to me.

‘Girls can read girls. I am the surest. But…' I'm not quite sure how to broach this with Frank as I suspect he's not asked a lot of girls out and could very well possibly be a virgin. ‘She's one of your oldest friends. Maybe take it slow, hang out a bit more, see how the land lies.'

His face fills with mild panic. ‘But I'm going out with you. What if she gets with someone else tonight and I've missed the boat. She's very pretty.'

‘I know she is. You're not going out with me really though. I've had the best meal of my life and I now know where the gift bags are. I can leave, you can tell everyone I had to go.'

‘Why did you go?' he asks me. ‘Maybe diarrhoea?'

I wrinkle my nose. ‘Or maybe I had an early flight to go see my grandmother in Iceland for Christmas?'

He snaps his fingers. Yes, that explanation is preferable.

‘And then perhaps you could return that bolero to her, thank her on my behalf and spend the evening chatting with her, getting to know her again. Bring her up here with a cup of tea, it's romantic. You can tell her the truth.'

He nods rapidly. I wonder if I need to laminate this as a list.

‘And we can come up with some reason why we broke it off, to tell everyone else.'

‘Maybe you met someone in Iceland and cheated on me…' he suggests.

‘Or maybe I wanted different things. Perhaps it was your sizeable penis.'

‘It came between us, quite literally.'

And I laugh again, so heartily that Frank has made such a good joke, he has to come over and beat my back.

‘I mean, there's an evening buffet, more dancing and stuff? You can stay if you want,' he tells me. ‘I think there's a magician going round, he's dressed as a reindeer.'

‘I will be fine, Frank. I'm headed to Jasper's tomorrow. One thing though, can we take cake home?' I ask him.

‘It's stacked in a pyramid, next to the gift bags.'

‘Then I am done. I'll grab an Uber. Go and get that girl, young man. Report back tomorrow and tell me how it went.'

I stand up and salute him but he comes over and gives me a long unexpected hug. I laugh to myself to feel his gangly arms wrapped awkwardly around me. ‘Thank you, boss. You rock. You really do.'

‘So do you,' I tell him from over his shoulder. I mean that so sincerely, I really hope he knows that .

‘Text me when you get home?'

I nod and shoo him away, hearing his hurried shuffle to the lifts so he can return to the party, tripping slightly on his own feet. I hope I'm right about Norah. If that all works out, I hope they name a kid after me, maybe a cat. I exhale loudly and look up at the clear night sky, stars fighting their way through the clouds. I take my phone out of my pocket to book an Uber and I notice a figure in the shadows, watching. They slowly reveal themselves to me and I watch my breath mist the air to see them.

‘Maggie,' she says, not quite smiling.

‘Mrs San,' I reply hesitantly. I don't know if you were hiding in the bushes spying on us or you've come out here to kill me but it's very likely you just heard my whole conversation with Frank. I don't quite know what to say.

‘I told you to call me Regina,' she scolds me.

‘Regina,' I say.

She walks over in her thick wool coat and sits down on the bench, patting the space next to her. This is probably a moment for me to run but I do as I'm told.

‘Thank you for letting me come today. It was very nice to meet you,' I tell her. I can't quite gauge the sincerity of her actions. ‘I am really sorry about the dress thing. This was a complete and utter sartorial error, I do apologise. And walking down as a bridesmaid, that was awful. I am sorry.'

‘Well, you're not in any of the photos so it's fine,' she tells me bluntly.

‘And I am not sure if Ashley told you what I said before but I am sorry for talking out of turn, at a wedding…about your son…It was crass…'

‘Possibly. But you were standing up for my son. My daughters are good girls but they can be bitches too,' she tells me. I don't tell this woman that I wonder where they learned that from .

There is suddenly a silence between us. Maybe this is it and I can go home. ‘You and Frank are not a couple, are you?' she asks me.

My face freezes. I'm not sure what to say here but if she heard us then it doesn't feel right to continue the lie any further, at least not straight to her face. I shake my head slowly. ‘I am sorry we lied to you.'

‘Oh, I spotted the lie from a mile off. Frank sang your praises a little too loudly.'

‘Was it all the languages?' I ask.

‘I think it was the Olympic bronze medal in sailing that made me wonder…' she says, and she laughs, which is not a sound that goes with her face but I laugh along with her.

‘I am glad Frank trusted you enough though to ask you to do this for him,' she tells me.

‘He's a good friend…' I tell her.

‘…Of which he has few,' she says, plainly. ‘I thought he would go to school and university and find people, but he's always been quite alone. I worry about him in that way,' she says. The emotion feels genuine but I can still feel shades of judgement in her tone.

‘Not alone really, he has his interests and work. He's brilliant at what he does, a great colleague.'

She nods. ‘He enjoys his work, I know that much,' she tells me and it makes my emotions prickle a touch to hear that, to know it's something he's proud of and spoken about with her.

‘You raised a good son, Regina,' I say to try and turn the tables on her.

She looks at my face, the emotion making it drop. ‘Well, I tried. You know boys, they need the extra training though,' she tells me.

‘I hear you did it mostly alone too,' I add.

She eyeballs me, surprised at how much I know about her life. ‘It was hard. And I know I am hard on him sometimes. I know you see that too, but I don't do it for any other reason than love,' she tells me.

I look down at my hands as she says that. ‘I just wish you'd maybe say that to Frank sometimes though.'

She turns her head to me, wondering if I'm daring to lecture her. ‘He knows I love him,' she says defiantly. ‘I am his mother.'

‘Then tell him. I don't think anyone can hear that phrase too much, you know?'

She doesn't reply. I don't know if I've said the wrong thing, but I think her son is a good person and he likes what he likes in life, he tries so very hard, and he needs to be told that, despite his mother not really understanding him, she loves him all the same – that she's proud of him.

‘Thank you for looking out for him, Maggie. I appreciate it,' she says taking my hand and squeezing it and I will admit to being choked up that she's recognising that I'm here for him, that she knows I care. ‘It is cold and I must be getting back to the proceedings,' she tells me, getting up. ‘I hear you have a flight to catch,' she says, smiling.

‘Oh yes, my Icelandic grandmother – she's really old and I'd like to spend one last Christmas with her,' I tell her giggling. ‘I should go and say goodbye to the bride and groom maybe?'

‘There is a queue. Given how drunk the groom is, I anticipate a half-hour waiting time for that. Don't worry, I will pass on your good wishes,' she tells me.

‘Well then, thank you for having me here and this whole day, it's been such a wonderful experience.'

‘You are very welcome. Maybe one day Frank can invite you round for some lunch.'

‘Is Frank cooking?'

‘Obviously not,' she laughs. ‘It would be good to get to know his friend more though.'

I smile. I hope she cooks Singaporean food like the stuff I've sampled today. Then I'll be there with bells on. I don't quite know what this is, whether we've bonded or made a silent pact of respect for each other but I think she gets me at least. I know this as she beckons me to stand and puts her arms out for a hug. It's not a natural position for her and her arms are not quite wrapped around me, but it's a start.

‘Maggie,' she says, still in hold. ‘Are you wearing two coats? Isn't that the coat you bought for Frank? I like it. It's very smart,' she tells me.

I nod. I hope she doesn't ask to look in the pockets because I found three used tissues, a train ticket and a condom (in its wrapper, thank god). The plan is to dry-clean it and return it to that café opposite the church. ‘It's very warm.'

‘Where did you buy it?'

I smile, one more lie can't hurt. ‘John Lewis.'