The Good Part(77)

‘I wouldn’t overthink it,’ says Faye. ‘He’s always loved you. He loved you before he met you, the promise of you, remember.’

‘The song?’ I ask, and Faye nods. ‘Was I sure from the start, when I met him?’

‘Lucy, you were so sure. That night we met him in the karaoke bar – I remember you saying in the cab home, “I’m going to marry that man.” ’

‘I’m sure I was joking, or drunk.’

‘You were, both.’ Faye shrugs. ‘But you’d never said anything like that before. Enjoy it, you deserve to have something good.’

‘Do I though? Sometimes I feel guilty, just being handed all this.’ I wave an arm to indicate the beautiful space we’re sitting in.

‘Lucy, you didn’t get handed anything. Trust me, I was there, I saw how hard you worked.’ She sighs, shaking her head. ‘You took weekend jobs, there were periods where you hardly had time to see any of us. As for Sam, believe me, you put your time in with some frogs before you met your prince.’ She pauses. ‘When you lived in New York, you were in love with this guy Toby who completely broke your heart. I didn’t think you’d ever trust anyone again after that.’

‘I lived in New York?’ I always wanted to live in New York.

‘Yes. All I’m saying is, you have been on a journey to get here, and it’s all connected because if Toby hadn’t broken your heart, you might never have come back home, and you wouldn’t have met Sam, who is your person.’ I reach out a hand to Faye, grateful for her unwavering kindness. ‘You have a strong marriage. But that’s taken work too. What you’ve both been through is not easy.’

‘I wish I remembered Chloe,’ I blurt out. ‘Of all the things I’ve forgotten, she feels the most significant. It’s important to Sam that I remember her.’

‘I think you will remember, Luce,’ Faye says gently. ‘Just enjoy being loved up with Sam before you remember all the things you find annoying about him.’ Faye laughs, and I throw a sofa cushion at her. I don’t admit that I can’t think of one thing I might ever find annoying about him.



‘Can you pass me a spoon?’ I ask Sam, as our little family sit down for Saturday breakfast. Sam grabs one from the drawer and hands it to me, his fingers lingering on mine as he does. He shoots me a devilishly loaded look.

‘Why thank you,’ I say, looking up at him beneath lowered lashes.

‘Why are you being weird with each other?’ Felix demands.

‘We’re not being weird!’ I say, feeling a pulse of heat rising up my neck.

‘You are being weird,’ Felix insists. ‘You keep looking at each other, for ages, like you’re trying to win a staring competition.’

Sam clears his throat. ‘Your mother is a beautiful woman; I like looking at her.’ He leans in to kiss me, and Felix grimaces.

‘Have the aliens hypnotised you?’ Felix asks.

‘I thought we agreed to knock the alien theory on the head,’ I say, giving Felix a firm stare.

‘Don’t call your mother an alien, Felix,’ Sam says, just as Amy knocks her cereal bowl off her high chair and milk and cornflakes splatter all over the floor. Sam leaps up to get a cloth.

‘Chuck it here,’ I say, already crouching down. Sam throws a damp cloth across the room, and I catch it in one hand without looking.

When I do look up, I see Felix and Sam exchanging glances.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘Nothing,’ says Sam.

‘What are we doing for my birthday on Saturday?’ Felix asks out of nowhere, and I wonder if this is the real source of his irritability this morning. Either that, or a few days without access to an iPad. Looking at Sam, I panic that with everything going on, we have overlooked something as important as Felix’s birthday.

‘What would you like to do, buddy?’ Sam asks. ‘I thought we might just have a family party this year, but you could invite a few mates over. Or I’ll take a group of your friends to the VR arcade if you like?’

‘Can I have friends here?’ Felix asks. ‘And can I invite Mr Finkley, Mummy?’

‘Who’s Mr Finkley?’ Sam asks.

‘Mummy’s friend from the olden days.’

‘That’s so sweet of you, Felix, but I don’t really know Mr Finkley all that well. He’s a little odd and he lives all the way in London.’

‘I don’t think he’s odd. I liked him,’ says Felix.

‘Your friend from the olden days,’ Sam says, giving me an amused look.

‘He said he hasn’t been invited to a party in twenty years, not since his wife died. He said she was the one people liked, and he doesn’t have any friends now,’ Felix says.

Sam and I exchange a look.

‘I don’t have his number though, Felix. I don’t know how I’d invite him—’

Felix leans forward across the table, imploring me. ‘You said you know someone’s your friend when you like the stuff they like, when you can be weird with them. I felt like that with him.’ He pauses. ‘You could take him an invitation when you’re in London. He doesn’t like the train, though, so we’ll have to fetch him in the car.’

‘Well, if you’re sure that’s who you’d like to invite, I can ask him,’ I say.