My Perfect Boyfriend

Jenna was glad that her family liked Harrison, but they were taking it too far!

THE academic life, Harrison: that’s secure, is it?” Jenna’s dad was looking intently at Harrison and Jenna squirmed with embarrassment.

Her parents had been quizzing her new boyfriend since he’d arrived that evening to pick her up.

He’d been in the house for about six minutes and it felt as though they already knew his inside leg measurement and whether his jabs were up to date.

“Dad, we ought to go,” Jenna declared, gently tugging at Harrison’s arm.

She wanted to get to the restaurant. Harrison was the best thing that had happened to her in years and time was precious.

Jenna ran a conference centre round the corner from the university, and had met Harrison when organising a lecture series.

He taught and wrote books on maths that Jenna didn’t hope to understand.

He was clever but funny, modest but gorgeous, and she could hardly believe her luck.

Jenna had dated some disasters. Her sister claimed this had dented her self-esteem, but Jenna wasn’t into pet psychology as much as Beth was.

“I had a rubbish time,” she admitted. “It happens.”

Jenna’s other sister, Alicia, put her pennyworth in.

“We were worried when Carl dumped you,” Alicia said. She was the youngest of the four Garratt children and spoke her mind. “You were on the floor after that!”

“Mild anxiety,” Jenna insisted. “All over.”

“He was seeing someone else!” Alicia cried. “And who was that utter toad who dated your friend while he was dating you?”

Jenna’s brother, Dom, was passing by with a plate of toast as the conversation continued.

“I could have killed that Iain,” he growled. “Saying he didn’t want commitment when he –”

“Thank you, Dom,” their mother interrupted. “I’m sure Jenna knows.”

It was a big family: the four children plus Mum and Dad. There was also Mrs Cox, who helped in the house and had virtually moved in after her husband died.

Jenna was the oldest child and, following some struggles, had moved back in for a while to regroup.

Harrison took to coming round often.

“One more doesn’t make any odds food wise,” their mum, Liz, said whenever he stayed for Sunday lunch.

When Harrison was promoted at the university, they had a celebratory tea and treated him like royalty.

Jenna noticed that praise for Harrison gradually ratcheted up.

“It is good to see a little gallantry these days,” Liz said one evening. “Gallantry?” Jenna asked. Liz looked at Jenna as though she were half-witted.

“Harrison – opening the lounge door for me.”

“Oh,” Jenna said. “Yes.”

She was slightly miffed at Harrison’s good qualities being pointed out so carefully, especially as she had just washed up a whole meal, but she let it go.

“A gentleman and a scholar,” Jenna’s dad, Neil, remarked. “That’s a quote. I’m proud of thinking of it.”

“Well done, Dad,” Jenna replied.

The family noted every success that Harrison enjoyed, but when Jenna completed a professional qualification, she felt their praise could have been warmer.

“That’s lovely,” Liz told her. “A certificate and everything.”

Harrison published a paper on something called fractals. None of them understood it, but they all said it was “amazing”.

They pointed to the diagrams and made impressed noises for a whole evening.

Jenna was falling for Harrison and was aware of his good qualities, but as time passed the adoration heaped on him by her family began to niggle.

His jokes were judged to be incredibly funny and asking Harrison about himself turned into a competitive sport.

Jenna would find herself standing outside the front door waiting for Harrison while Liz asked him what he thought of the Prime Minister, or what his availability at Christmas might be.

Jenna hated herself for longing for the attention Harrison was getting.

There had been some very low points in her life, exacerbated by ill-chosen relationships. Her family was bestowing on Harrison much of the

affection and encouragement that Jenna felt she deserved.

One Saturday, Harrison and Jenna were meeting friends for a picnic. They were in the deli aisle when Harrison’s phone buzzed.

“Oh, good idea,” he said as he read the screen.

“Is that Livia?” she asked. “Picnic instructions?”

“It’s your mum.” Harrison tapped the phone. “She says to try the new brie they do here.”

“Is my phone turned off?” Jenna asked, and took out her mobile from her bag. There were no messages. “My mum texted you?” she asked.

“She does that, yeah. Bits of advice.”

Jenna discovered that Harrison was getting family gossip before she did: someone’s holiday plan, or Mrs Cox finally receiving a date for her cataract operation.

It wasn’t Harrison’s fault, but it grated, however much she tried not to let it.

“What does Harrison think?” became a common family phrase.

Neil made verbal notes about “saving the good beer” for Harrison’s next visit, or wondering if Harrison might like to try a round of golf.

If Jenna turned up without Harrison there would be astonished enquiries as to his whereabouts.

Harrison’s office was at the edge of the campus, and it was a short walk from there to Jenna’s work via a row of shops.

One Sunday morning, Jenna had briefly visited work and walked past the coffee place where she and Harrison often met.

Harrison was outside, finishing a cappuccino, and opposite him sat a woman with long dark hair.

Jenna recognised her as a colleague of Harrison’s.

She had a memory that the woman was going through a major spat with her girlfriend and was unhappy.

At a recent university social, the woman – Daisy – had talked to Harrison for an hour.

Jenna couldn’t hear what they were saying and kept her distance, taking a walkway above the pavement so as not to disturb what was obviously an informal counselling session.

Even without hearing the words she could see that Harrison was being soothing, and urging his colleague to take breaths.

Jenna smiled. If her family knew about Harrison’s skills as a therapist there would be more Harrison-worship, and she’d be left in the background.

Alicia’s purple hair appeared suddenly, coming round the corner into the row of shops.

Alicia was immediately followed by Dom in his trademark cargo shorts, and then Beth.

Jenna was wondering what brought all her siblings out together when her dad and mum rounded the corner.

“A family outing,” Jenna murmured. “Without me. What a surprise!”

Maybe they were about to meet Harrison for a cup of tea, she thought, to tell him he was the new Messiah.

To Jenna’s astonishment, Mrs Cox, tiny in a cotton dress, brought up the rear.

Jenna stood back in amazement as they approached the coffee shop.

Daisy and Harrison were oblivious to the coming invasion and Jenna watched Daisy rise, kiss Harrison on the cheek and depart just as the Garratts and Mrs Cox descended.

Jenna’s dad slowly drew back the chair Daisy had vacated and sat in it. Liz and Mrs Cox took the other chairs at the table.

Mrs Cox settled into the chair as though into a small throne, her chin held high, her handbag propped against a chair leg. Harrison stared at them. None of them saw Jenna – they were intent on whatever crazy thing they were up to – so she made her way down the slope of the walkway until she was able to observe.

“A quick word,” Neil began.

He leaned forward so that his rounded tummy bumped the table.

They were planning a massive birthday party for Harrison – that was it, Jenna thought. He would be thirty in a few weeks.

They were bypassing his actual girlfriend’s plans in order to pay tribute to Harrison with a champagne reception!

“Er, sure,” Harrison said in the soft, reedy voice that Jenna loved.

Alicia, standing, took up position at Harrison’s elbow like a sentry.

“We know,” she declared. About the thirtieth birthday, Jenna thought. I bet they’ve been messaging each other for a month.

“We don’t want to ask questions about her,” Dom said loudly enough for Jenna to hear.

His tone was weirdly scary – not like Dom at all. “We don’t want to know.” “I do,” Alicia put in. Neil gave Alicia a stern look.

“Leave this to us, Alicia.” he said.

“This is for the grownups,” Beth added.

“Dom saw you with that girl,” Liz accused Harrison. “Look, live your life as you like, but don’t think that you can jeopardise, for a single moment –“

Mrs Cox brought her fist down on the surface of the table and everyone jumped.

“Stop shilly-shallying!” she cried.

Customers looked round and she lowered her voice.

“We love that girl more than anything in the world.”

Dom, Beth and Alicia took a step closer to Harrison’s chair.

“She’s had a hard time,” Mrs Cox continued, her voice sharp with warning.

“Young men have treated her badly and she’s been hurt. We welcomed you –”

“You’ve all been great,” Harrison interrupted her. “What’s this about?”

“We’ve probably been a bit over the top,” Mrs Cox continued.

“Sucking up,” Dom added. “Putting you on a pedestal,” Beth agreed.

“We liked you and . . .”

She looked round at the others and there were nods.

“We had a meeting and decided you were OK, and that we’d be nice to you to make sure you behaved.

“We can’t have any nonsense in Jenna’s life again.”

Liz wiped a tear from her eye.

“Jenna’s my first baby and it’s torn me apart to see her unhappy.” She pointed a finger at Harrison’s chest. “Deceive her, Harrison, and I’ll . . .”

There were firm grunts of agreement and Alicia put her hands on her hips.

Jenna had been about to giggle, but emotion seized at her chest and she had to fight back a tear.

“Nobody’s allowed to be mean to Jenna again,” Alicia added. “Not even you, and we like you.”

“We like you as long as you don’t put a foot wrong,” Mrs Cox explained.

She had both her hands by her sides now.

Jenna ducked out from behind the pillar.

“That was Daisy from uni!” She laughed. “Harrison’s giving her some help with her relationship – a relationship with someone else!”

Each of the Garratts now blushed a light shade of fuchsia.

Mrs Cox was less prone to embarrassment.

“That’s fine, then,” she said, picking up her handbag.

“However, there’s no harm in being straight – that’s what I always say.”

Harrison was blinking, trying to process the past five minutes.

“You’ve been ignoring me because you’ve been buttering up Harrison?” Jenna asked.

“What?” Harrison said. “What’s going on?”

Jenna pulled Harrison out of his chair.

“I’ll explain,” she said. “Let’s go for a walk.”

She turned at the end of the parade of shops, Harrison’s hand in hers.

“I love you all,” she called. “And we’ll both see you later!” ■