Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

22nd December

‘Well, I didn't know I had to buy a gift for your sister-in-law, Jeffrey!' says the woman on the phone, sitting next to me. ‘I thought she'd left him…When did she come back?…For fuck's sake…Well, of course I'm glad they fixed their marriage, but now I'm at the train station and I have to find her a gift…I can't just get a gift card, she'll know I forgot her…Fuck it, I'll run to Marks and get a decent bottle of wine…Jeffrey, I don't even like the woman. She called one of our children ugly, do you not remember that?'

I look across to see said children sitting to the front and side of her, trying to work out which one it is. I think you all look fine, kids, and I already hate this woman on your behalf. I'd give someone like that coal. I wouldn't even wrap it, I'd throw it at her head.

‘Then I will buy you a bloody gift card too. Anything else you need? Shall I grab a turkey while I'm here? How about some parsnips? …Really? Stick it up your arse, Jeffrey.'

She hangs up, exhales huffily, scanning her kids' faces as they all remain glued to devices on this concourse at Waterloo, quite unaffected by the mini row their parents seem to have had on the phone.

I pretend to not have heard a thing but keep my eyes glued on my book. I do feel for the matriarchs at this time of year, holding the season together with sheer will, grit and multipacks of Sellotape. She looks up at the departures boards, to her watch and then looks around Waterloo at the shops behind us.

‘Kids, up you get, we need to get a final gift for Aunty Bloody Betty.'

I smile, I hope that's her official name. Hate her.

‘Can't we stay here?' The eldest boy groans, looking around at their collection of rucksacks and trolley bags.

‘No, you must endure this torture too. We can buy snacks. Up. Now,' she tells them, signalling with her hands as they all trundle towards Marks & Spencer with their luggage. ‘Remind me to get a sodding gift bag,' she tells them.

I only occasionally come to Waterloo in the week when it's a commuter haven and people look at departures boards and then sprint towards gates with desperate, competitive looks in their faces as they race home for the evening. Today is a Sunday and the vibe is different. Families wrapped up in hats and gloves are getting off trains and strolling towards days out, people are laden with luggage headed home for Christmas, trying to balance gifts on trolley bags. To the centre of the station is a giant tree around which all the action unfolds, twinkling merrily as people stop to take the occasional selfie. A couple stops in front of me to do just that, smiling and loved up, and I think about the events of last night, the long conversation with Leo after the wedding, reliving laughs, words, moments.

‘Afternoon, boss…' I hear a voice say behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I smile and stand up, reaching out to hug Jasper but also getting my phone out. We're by this big tree, we must. ‘Come on, get in for a selfie. Let's get fucking festive,' I joke. I take the picture then go to check it, seeing that Jasper has pulled a face.

‘So beautiful.'

‘I know. I'm like a Da Vinci painting. You are early,' a pleasantly chipper Jasper tells me as he drags a duffel bag with him, rucksack on his shoulder and balancing two coffees in his hands. ‘A hazelnut latte for the lady,' he tells me.

‘Jasper! Thank you,' I say mildly surprised. I mean, he knows my coffee order because we've been colleagues for years but this feels like a kindly way to start this little trip of ours. He also looks different, smarter. It's a blue jeans, Fair Isle jumper and peacoat look. His bright trainers being the only way I'd recognise him otherwise. ‘And I'm always early, you should already know this about me.'

He smiles. ‘I bought snacks too, they're in the bag. I got a selection of savoury and sweet and healthy and alcohol. They did a Christmas gin and tonic in a luridly red tin. We have two each,' he tells me proudly. ‘Did we need anything else?'

To be fair, I'm still digesting last night's dinner but I nod, applauding his initiative. ‘Nope, are you sorted for gifts?' I ask, thinking about that poor woman trying to pick out wine with her three kids.

‘I am good. Your tip on the cashmere was excellent. All my aunts will now match too. I'm ready,' he tells me, waving his ticket in the air. I copy him, laughing. There's an excitement in Jasper's eyes that you rarely see, whether that's because he's going home or because it's that time of year. I'm glad to see it as I thought he might be a cynic when it comes to the festive. ‘Then we've been given a platform, let's get through the gates and get the good seats because I'm not sitting all the way to Winchester with someone's fetid armpit in my face.' There, that's the Jasper I know.

I stand up, walking alongside him as he sips at his coffee.

‘So, tell me about last night,' he says, nudging me.

I pretend to sip at my coffee, wondering what he means. The wedding or the fact that I spent the evening weaving through the streets of London, chatting to Leo. The Leo that we work with. And not just that. He made sure I was safe, that I was alright. He booked me an Uber with someone called Jesus. A Jesus who didn't laugh when I told him it was his birthday in a few days. Apparently, his birthday's in March.

‘Did Frank's eyebrows calm down?' he continues. Oh, he's talking about the wedding. That's fine. We can do that. ‘They did. It was a good evening. I got to meet the family. And the mother.'

‘Did she breathe fire?' Jasper asks, chuckling.

‘Of the very worst sort but I'm good with flames,' I tell him.

‘That's because you're a designated fire chief for our building,' Jasper informs me.

‘This is true. But it wasn't all bad. I met a lovely friend of his called Norah and there was a gorgeous, festive feast. I ate cranberry and lychee macarons with gold stuff on the top. I felt very swish.'

Jasper smiles. ‘Then all good. I laughed a little too hard at Frank's eyebrows, I hope he forgives me for that.'

I shake my head but the fact is, out of the four of us, Jasper and Frank have been friends the longest. The two of them made that basement their nest and fully made that department operational at least two years before I came along. Before Leo came. I bite my lip to even think about Leo. But Jasper and Frank are two of the same people. They both like the same video games, they know each other's Five Guys orders (don't you dare give Jasper lettuce) and they talk in that same shortened code where you know they can almost read each other's minds. It's the best bromance I know. Frank will almost certainly forgive him for laughing at his eyebrows. He'll just laugh at something about him to return the favour .

‘Here,' I show him my phone. ‘Here's a selfie of us at dinner.'

‘You look so pretty?' he says, sounding surprised. I won't be offended.

‘I do occasionally scrub up for social events. It's when I'm in the basement and there's no daylight and I'm around you buffoons I don't see the need.'

‘And did you do anything afterwards?' Jasper asks, an eyebrow raised.

‘After the wedding? Oh no…I went home…' I hope Jasper can't read the blush in my face to know that actually I spent quite a bit of time on the phone with Leo afterwards. The Leo I sit opposite with the dimples and the nice smile and, I now know, the excellent phone skills.

He laughs as we go through the gates, pulling our bags behind us. ‘Did you meet the sisters? Aren't they awful?'

‘You've met the sisters?' I ask him, as we walk alongside the train.

Jasper peers through carriages to pick a good spot. ‘Once. It was a birthday party for one of them and Frank invited me along as it was after work and the drinks were free. I got drunk and called one of them a harpy. She wasn't best pleased.' I'm secretly pleased Jasper took one of Frank's sisters on. ‘Here,' he tells me, finding a carriage to his liking and we drag our bags on board as Jasper scurries over to a table seat, beating a group of football fans who had been eyeing it up. We put our bags in the overhead spaces and Jasper unzips his rucksack to reveal his snack haul. He has done well but that is very Jasper. He likes to research proper food venues near us so we eat well in our lunch hours, instead of living off vending machines. Because of him, I now appreciate the wonder of proper ramen as opposed to basic Cup Noodles.

‘Can I give you some money for all this?' I ask .

‘Don't be a fool,' he says bluntly. ‘You told me in a text message that you'd bought gifts for everyone? I really hope not.'

I pull a confused expression. ‘Jasper, it's Christmas. I couldn't show up empty-handed to your home. They're not huge gifts and there are going to be children there. You've got to make it special for the kids.'

‘You could have just shared what I'm giving them. What have you got the kids?'

‘Some Lindt reindeer. I didn't break the bank,' I explain. Is this him telling me I should have broken the bank? Will they look down at confectionery? I don't think I'll get on with those sorts of kids. ‘Actually, you gave me lists of names but I'm still trying to work out who's who,' I tell him, reaching into my handbag to retrieve a spreadsheet he gave me. What I liked is that it had descriptors about people, like Uncle Wesley who, in Jasper's words, "will name-drop, tell you terribly boring fishing stories and generally be an absolute arsehole."

He looks at his watch. ‘I wouldn't worry. Tonight is Father's cocktail party. It'll be a very random mix of neighbours, family and friends, and half of us won't really know each other. You brought something to wear, yes?'

I may be wearing the dress from yesterday. Hopefully, he'll be none the wiser.

‘Just mingle and have fun. My family are many things but they like to throw a party. You can watch as my brother will get incredibly drunk and get out his trumpet.'

‘Is that a euphemism?'

He laughs. ‘No. He plays the trumpet, a cousin will get on the piano and there'll be a sing-song where my grandmother will show us her vibrato – not a euphemism either.' He talks about the event like it may be a complete embarrassment. I can picture it not being his scene, being the savage critic in the corner as a ruddy-faced uncle falls over himself. To me, it all sounds like pretty good entertainment .

‘So, your sister is Cressida, your brother is Albert.'

‘Yes, but half siblings.'

‘Oh, so they are older?'

‘Yes. By about ten years. It's…complicated,' he tells me as the last passengers run towards the doors and the train whistle sounds. An announcement crackles overhead as the train starts to roll. Jasper thinks that may have been enough distraction for him not to have to tell this story. He is wrong. I gesture for him to continue. ‘Do I have to?'

‘What else are we going to do for an hour?' I say.

‘Eat pretzels? Drink cocktails in a tin? Sudoku?' he suggests.

I shake my head.

‘Albert and Cressida's mother passed away quite sadly, and their father remarried my mother, and that is how I came to exist.'

‘So really not that complicated at all,' I say, laughing, tearing at that bag of pretzels and diving in. However, there's a look in his eye which tells me that behind that simple explanation lie some interesting family politics which I am sure I will be witness to in the next couple of days. Maybe for now, it's best to know the basic setup though. ‘Well, I look forward to meeting them all.'

‘Hmmm, we'll see,' he says. ‘I also need to ask a favour.'

The last time someone asked me for a favour, it was Frank asking me to pretend I had an Icelandic grandmother and a cat. Is this favour in the same vein? I'm not sure I have the dramatic power to last a full two days. ‘Go on,' I say tentatively.

‘I'm going to introduce you to someone this weekend who is very important to me so I wanted to give you a heads-up.'

I nod. His tone makes me think he's not talking about his mother.

‘His name is Miles.'

I recognise the name. ‘Oh, Miles. Your flatmate, you've mentioned him before,' I say.

‘Well, yes, but he's also my boyfriend,' he tells me.

I may react strangely at this point. I've always been deeply respectful of Jasper's sexuality but at the same time, he rarely talks of his love life at work and I've never wanted to pry so this feels monumental to know this much, so much so that I let out a strange ringing squeal and clap my hands excitedly. People may turn around.

‘I am absolutely mortified, Maggie,' he tells me in deadpan tones, though he seems quietly amused to see me so excited.

‘Jasper, you have a boyfriend. That's kinda cool, no? I'm excited. Is this new? What's he like? How did you meet? Are you living together then? Since when?'

He stops for a moment to process my many questions, wondering if this was a good plan. He puts a hand in a downward motion, asking me to calm down. ‘Maggie…'

‘I'm sorry. I want…That's exciting!' I tell him.

‘Why?'

‘Because you're with someone…in a relationship…and that's always a beautiful thing.'

He nods his head slowly, trying to take in my words.

‘Well, all will be revealed, but I wanted to give you a heads-up because I'm kind of half out when it comes to my family.'

‘Is that an official term?' I ask him, curiously, picturing his body half inside the closet, peeking out.

‘Put simply, I have some older relatives and my siblings especially who are a little…old-fashioned…and that's stating it politely.'

I pull a face at Jasper to signal my disapproval. ‘Oh…that's a shame.'

‘Not at all. The older I get, the more I realise I can't change some people's opinions on these things, much like I can't change who I am, but I'm simply telling you this for your information. Just in case you're talking to my grandmother and you decide to say "Oh yes, Jasper. Love him. Brilliant friend. So gay." '

‘Noted.' I smile but try to gauge how this makes him feel, to not be his authentic self around his family.

‘And when you do meet Miles. To some, he will just be a friend and it would be good of you to play along if you could.'

I nod. ‘Gotcha, you have my absolute discretion,' I say, saluting him. ‘Though I am still excited to meet him,' I say scrunching up my face.

‘Good Lord. Please try and be normal or something like that, yes? He's looking forward to meeting you too,' he says, smiling.

I have questions, so many bloody questions about his family, his love life, but I feel now is not the time to bombard him, especially as I keep grinning at him and he shakes his head at me. The train starts to pull away from London, the size of the buildings diminishing, and the light blue sky starting to pull into view. I am a town mouse, through and through, raised in the west of London so it's always strange to see the landscape so flat, to spy open roads and lines of trees.

Jasper senses the fascination in my eye to be on a train, to be exploring somewhere new. ‘You don't get out of London much, eh?' he says, mildly amused.

‘Lived here all my life. I've been abroad, obviously, and seen places but I do stay close, you are right.' I await some form of judgement.

‘And the only child…'

‘Yes. Working class roots. My mum is a nurse and my dad works on the London Underground.'

‘And where do they think you're spending Christmas?' he asks me.

That's one thing about Jasper. Despite the shortish fuse and his general disdain for life, he is clever and he knows more about people than he lets on. He knows that I've chosen not to go on a cruise with my parents but I've also lied to them about it so they won't feel bad about their choices. They go on a cruise every year, it's their favourite thing to do, they save up for it, and I didn't want them to opt out because of me. They'd spent a lot of their lives putting their energy, money and time into me so I could go to university and have a better life, there had to be point where they had some quality time together instead of three of us squeezing in a cabin together.

‘I told them I was hanging out with my friend, Gemma. I am godmother to her daughters.'

Jasper nods. ‘Not because you didn't want to spend time with them though, right?'

‘No, they're brilliant. But like I said, I didn't want to be the youngest and therefore, saddest person on that ship.'

He smiles, the winter sun bouncing off his face, as the train truly starts to pick up speed. He reaches over for some pretzels and gets two luridly red tins out of his backpack.

‘Well, I've told you about my life story, you've given me snippets of yours. It's time to drink…' he tells me, tugging at the ring pulls of the tins.

‘Is this legal?'

‘It's medicinal. Plus you need it more than me…'

‘Because I'm going to meet your family?'

‘No, because I want proper details about what happened last night and why Frank saw you naked on Leo's phone,' he says, smiling.