The Plot Thickens

Martin and I needed a clever plan to get our daughter and her husband back together . . .

HI, Diana.” Martin sounds nervous, as well he might. We haven’t spoken since we split up, but I know why he’s calling and it’s not something I can ignore. “Martin,” I say stiffly. He used to call me Di. It feels strange to hear him using my full name.

“I gather you know what’s happened,” he says.

“Of course,” I reply. “Jess told me straight away.”

“I have Adrian here,” Martin says. “Sleeping on my sofa!”

Jess told me Martin was living in a studio flat and I gather it’s not very spacious.

“And as my living-room is also my bedroom, it’s a bit awkward,” Martin goes on with a wistful note in his voice.

I can’t help smiling in spite of everything that’s happened. He’s always been a private person. He’ll hate sharing his space.

“I wondered if Adrian would be better staying with you,” Martin suggests.

“It’s not convenient for me, either,” I say.

“I have my parents staying at the moment and they insist on separate rooms because Mum’s snoring disturbs Dad.”

“Your mum still snores, then,” Martin says with a note of amusement in his voice.

“Yes, and she still denies it,” I reply with a laugh.

We fall silent.

“It’s awful, Di,” Martin continues. “They’ve only been married five minutes.”

“What went wrong?” I ask. “Jess won’t talk about it. They seemed perfect for each other.”

“As did we once,” Martin points out. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, but it’s true.

“Love’s young dream, your dad called us.”

“He was still calling us that at our silver wedding anniversary party, do you remember? And us with a married daughter!”

“How could I forget?” Martin chuckles.

“What are we going to do?” I ask. “I just want Jess to be happy.”

“And Adrian, too,” Martin says. “He’s such a nice lad.”

“If only they’d talk to each other,” I say. “Remember that time I walked out? We’d been married a matter of months.

“My mother sent me straight back home and told me to sort it out.”

“And we did, didn’t we?” Martin sounds as if he’s coming down with a cold as he clears his throat.

“They have to learn that things aren’t always rosy,” I say, remembering my mum’s wise words.

“You have to have downs or you won’t appreciate the ups.”

I’m sure my mum put it more eloquently, but that was the gist of it and it has served my parents well over the years.

They’ve clocked up 50 years of wedded bliss – but not always bliss, Mum would be quick to point out.

“Do you think I should kick Adrian out?” Martin asks.

That is what I think, but he won’t do it.

“He has nowhere to go,” he points out. “You know we’ve always been family to him.”

“Perhaps nothing so dramatic,” I say. “We have to be clever about this.” “You have a plan?”

I’d forgotten how much I used to enjoy chatting to Martin and the way we’d put things to rights.

Before our troubles, that is. Before Martin got set in his ways.

He stopped being spontaneous and fun and it sapped the life out of me. He’d rather sit at home with his feet up than go out for a coffee or a walk.

When I did persuade him to go out, his sole purpose seemed to be to get back home as quickly as possible so he could get on with more sitting around.

It sounds petty now, but I work from home and I get sick of being shut in all day on my own.

It’s all right for Martin. He’s a plumber.

He spends all day with people and drives all over the place.

It’s too late for us, but

I’m darned if I’ll let it be too late for Jess and Adrian.

“If we could just get them talking,” I say.

“I’ve tried that. Adrian says there’s nothing to talk about.”

“Jess says the same. But of course they must talk.”

“Then we set them up,” Martin suggests. “I’ll arrange to meet Jess for a coffee and you do the same with Adrian.”

“It could go horribly wrong,” I tell him.

“Or perfectly right,” he says. “The worst that could happen is the second one to arrive walks out.”

“I’ll make sure Jess comes along,” I say, warming to the idea. “You do the same with Adrian.”

It is quite exciting. I’m sure if we can just get them face to face that things will turn out all right.

****

“Dad wants to meet me for coffee.” Jess frowns as she hangs up her phone. “Can you believe it?”

“No.” I laugh.

“Oh, Mum,” Jess says sadly, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Are you going to meet him?”

“Of course. I can’t go to his place because . . .” She chews it over for a second. “He might be there.” “Who?”

“You know who,” Jess retorts. “I don’t want to bump into him.”

“Surely it wouldn’t be so bad?”

My mum looks at me and rolls her eyes. She’s been surprisingly quiet.

“I’d better go,” Jess says. “Thanks for dinner, Mum.”

“You can stay longer,” I tell her. “It must be horrible going home to that empty flat.”

“Not as horrible as going home to find him there,” she returns and Mum rolls her eyes again.

When Jess has gone, Mum turns to me.

“You know the minute she sees Adrian sitting in the café, she’ll walk out.

“They want their heads banging together.”

“Are you volunteering?” Dad chortles.

Mum ignores him and waves her finger at me.

“You’ll have to go, too. She’ll need moral support if it all goes wrong.”

I hadn’t thought of that. Dad stands up.

“I think I’ll pop out for a pint,” he declares.

“Make sure it is just one,” Mum says.

“Of course I will,” Dad replies with a wink.

“How long are you staying, Mum?” I ask when he’s gone.

“Keen to get rid of us?” she asks.

“Of course not. I love having you.”

“Oh,” she says. “As long as it takes.

I understand. They want to see Jess and Adrian reunited before they go.

****

Jess gives me a lift into town on Saturday.

“It’s quite a momentous occasion if he’s willing to have coffee out,” Jess says.

“I might even persuade him to have a cake.”

“Good luck,” I tease. “Last time he came into the café with me, he sat with a bored face while I had a cappuccino and two chunks of carrot cake.”

“Two?”

“I ordered two thinking he’d eat one if it was put in front of him.

“All he did was complain that for the price of the cappuccino he could have bought a jar of coffee.

“To be fair, it was very nice carrot cake.”

“Who are you texting?” she asks.

“Oh, just a friend.”

I’m texting Martin with our ETA. All systems are go.

We’ve had a few phone chats and several texting sessions as we set this up. It hasn’t been easy getting the timings right.

Jess parks and we head for the high street, and I spot Adrian going into the café with Martin.

Martin steps back after Adrian has gone in and gives me a thumbs-up. Fortunately, Jess doesn’t notice.

It’s silly, but it makes my heart skip. I think I’m nervous about how all this is going to turn out. I don’t want to make things worse.

He’s going to try to get a quiet table upstairs and he’ll order two coffees and a selection of cakes. Adrian is fond of cakes.

“Are you coming in, Mum?” Jess asks, surprised when I don’t say goodbye at the door. “What if Dad is here already?”

“I’ll say hello,” I say. “Make sure he’s actually turned up and hasn’t left you high and dry.”

“Dad wouldn’t do that,” she replies. “He’s always been there for me.”

That’s true. He’s a good dad. Always has been.

We get upstairs and it’s quiet. I see Martin and Adrian sitting by the window.

Adrian stands up as we arrive and my stomach dives into my boots.

What if he walks out? What if Jess walks out?

But Jess walks over to him and he reaches out and takes her hand, kissing her cheek.

Wow! That’s progress, and they haven’t even spoken to each other yet.

I smile at Martin and he winks at me. We’ve been living apart for four months now and I do miss him.

He was better company than I ever realised.

Adrian holds out a chair. What a gentleman!

Jess doesn’t sit down.

“It’s for you, Mum,” she says. “Sit.”

“Are we all having coffee together?” I ask.

Martin’s gone a bit pale. “No.” Adrian laughs. “You two are having coffee.” We both spring up.

“Sit down.” My mother’s voice drifts over and I look round to see her and Dad vacating a booth.

We have been set up! “Are you back together, Jess?” Martin asks.

“We were never apart,” Adrian admits.

“We had to think of a way to get you two talking, and it worked.”

“This is nonsense,” I say as the waitress comes over with two cappuccinos and cakes. My mouth waters.

“This looks delicious,”

Martin says. “Thank you.”

The waitress nods and hurries away.

“Don’t come home until you’ve finished,” Dad warns and my parents leave, followed by my daughter and son-in-law.

“I would apologise for all this,” I say, “but she’s your daughter, too.”

“Poor Adrian,” Martin says. “It was a bit extreme, sleeping on my sofa. His feet hung over the end and I’m sure he fell off a couple of times.”

He takes a sip of his coffee and licks his lips.

“Have a cake,” he tells me.

“Only if you have one.” He picks up an iced slice. “I could get used to this,” he says.

“I wish you would.”

“Did you really kick me out because I don’t take you out for coffee?”

It was one of many things I shouted at him when I told him to leave.

“I think I kicked you out because I felt lonely,” I reply honestly. “Ignored.”

“I am sorry. I do care,

Di.”

He grins at me. He’s got a milky moustache and a blob of cream at the corner of his mouth.

I pass him a napkin and he grins as he takes it.

He means the world to me and I’ve missed him. I have enjoyed our chats these past few days.

“Would you like to come home, Martin?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He grins.

I suspect my parents will be at home packing their bags. As long as it takes, Mum had said.

Well, it didn’t take all that long in the grand scheme of things, did it?

This has all been a storm in a cappuccino cup, but the storm has passed.

“I love you, Martin,” I say and he grins at me, making my heart jump as he reaches for my hand and kisses it, right there in the café.

My undemonstrative, slightly stuck-in-the-mud husband whom I love more than words can say.

The End.