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Chapter Forty-one

Leon

Cocktail hour is a blur after the ceremony. Mum and Myleene are aghast about the arrival of David the stripper, although Kay convinces them quickly enough to see the funny side, and Dad merely rolls his eyes when I catch his gaze.

None of us exactly say it, but I can feel the sadness in the air when my family watch Kay interacting with her other friends and Marcus’s family.

That withering, trembling, fragile scrap of hope that we won’t lose her for good, this isn’t the end – even if she hardly bothers to come speak to us for more than a minute or two, all the while looking for someone else to spend time with.

Mum and Dad go off to mingle with some of our extended family. I have to track down a chair to bring out for Dad – I don’t know how many times we reminded Kay about it, could it really have been that difficult? – but they seem to be having a good enough time, in spite of it.

Myleene’s been sticking to my side ever since the ceremony ended. Francesca vanished to chat to some work friends, which I think was really just an excuse to give me some time alone with my family.

‘I wish you’d been here sooner,’ Myleene tells me.

‘I kind of needed you. Mum keeps trying to find out if they’re coming for Christmas, and I don’t know what to say.

Kay said she didn’t know what their plans were, but …

Well, Joss told me they’ve all booked to go skiing.

So obviously Kay’s lying, she’s just trying to find a way to break it to us that she won’t be home, and – do you think I should say something?

She always comes home for Christmas. It’s …

it’s like, the only time we see her, it feels like. But now, she’s …’

‘I’ll talk to her,’ I promise. There might not be anything I can do about the person Kay really is, but I’m still her big brother – and I can still tell her that if she won’t tell Mum and Dad about the skiing trip, I will. ‘That’s not for you to worry about, My, okay? I’ll handle it.’

Her relief is palpable. ‘Thanks, Leon. God, I cannot tell you how much it was stressing me out. I don’t like keeping secrets from Mum and Dad. We’re not that sort of family.’

‘No,’ I agree. We aren’t, but Kay’s personality isn’t a secret I’ll be keeping.

It’s just a fact I have to let the rest of my family see for themselves.

I so very nearly confronted Kay before the ceremony, but seeing her pose for a few solo shots in the gardens and order the photographer around – I knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

It didn’t feel so much like chickening out or giving up as simply accepting a fact.

And I think I haven’t been giving Myleene enough credit. She’s more tuned in to Kay’s attitude than I have been.

‘It’s not fair ,’ she whines now. ‘I get that she’s got this awesome new life that doesn’t include us, but sometimes it feels like she doesn’t want to bother with us at all .

You should’ve seen the way she talked to Mum yesterday.

All the olds were up dancing like I told you about, and Kay went over and told Mum she was embarrassing her.

It was horrible. And I thought maybe I should say something, but I didn’t want to make it worse … ’

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here.’

‘Oh, that’s not your fault!’ She elbows my side. ‘But … would’ve been nice if you were. I thought, Leon’d know how to handle it . You always do. Like Nana.’

Maybe it’s all the exhaustion and adrenalin and the sheer madness of the last twenty-four hours, but Myleene’s words make emotion swell in my chest, and I give her a one-armed hug.

She holds on tight, and then informs me that I smell like hangover, and offers me her sunglasses.

They’re shaped like hearts. I take them, strike a pose, and we both crack up laughing before she grabs a selfie.

‘I know it’s rough,’ I tell her. ‘But Kay’s her own person, with or without Marcus around. I guess we just have to accept we’re not always going to fit into her life these days. We’ll be there if she ever wants to come back home, though.’

‘It just sucks . I hate that this feels like goodbye.’

‘I know, My.’

‘I miss Nana,’ she says.

‘Yeah. Yeah, me too.’

But then Myleene snorts and adds, ‘She’d have bloody hated this, mind. Can you imagine her face when that David showed up? Then again, she probably would’ve paid him to stay and give a performance at the reception, just to piss off Marcus.’

I crack up at the mental image. ‘Maybe I should’ve done that. Reckon he’s already on a flight back home, or can we still catch him?’

‘Hi, everybody. Thanks all for being here today to celebrate Kay and Marcus,’ I say, standing at the front of the packed dining tables arranged around the terrace with all eyes on me.

‘For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Kay’s older brother, Leon.

In lieu of a father-of-the-bride speech, this is a bit of a family-of-the-bride speech instead, on behalf of all of us. ’

I talk about Kay’s childhood, how she always wanted to play dress-up and made me play Barbies with her where they were doing impressive, girl-bossy jobs like she has now, and what a romantic at heart Kay’s always been …

How the way she and Marcus looked at each other lit up the room, you could tell they were meant to be …

I say all the bland empty pleasantries that I’m supposed to, and the crowd make all the right noises in all the right places. Kay and Marcus sit holding hands at the top table, smiling at each other.

I talk about the Christmas she brought him home to meet us for the first time and how the two of them are made for each other, and I couldn’t imagine a couple better suited. I wish them every happiness in the life they are building together.

‘Kay,’ I wrap up, ‘we love you, and even if you’re moving on to make your own family, you’ll always have a place at home with us.’

I mean it. But I also know what Myleene means: it feels like goodbye, more than anything else. And I feel like I’ve said all I can, if that is the case.

We all toast the happy couple, and I sit back down, a weight off my chest.

Francesca catches my eye from her table and gives me a warm smile that makes me feel like – yes, I got this right.

Gemma’s speech is great. It’s short and sweet, about the journey of Kay and Marcus’s relationship and with a couple of funny stories from the wedding planning that get everybody laughing.

The compilation video she made rolls in the background on a screen and there’s not even a hint of David and the strip club in it.

‘Kayleigh and I were fast friends at school, and inseparable ever since. We did everything together – we always have. People talk a lot about the impact romantic love has on their lives, but sometimes we forget about how monumentally the love between you and a good friend can change your life. And like all good love stories, there’s a beginning, a middle, and an end.

Kayleigh – I wish you all the best in this next chapter of your life. ’

People coo, and raise their glasses as Gemma leads the toast, but I notice the sharp look Kayleigh cuts her, and I hear the words Gemma’s not exactly saying.

I don’t manage to catch her alone until a little while later – the speeches are done, coffees have been served, and she’s leaning against a wall, tapping furiously away at her phone. I wonder if it’s another wedding-related crisis.

‘Good speech,’ I tell her.

‘Huh? Oh, thanks. You, too. Very restrained, minimal Marcus-bashing. Good job.’

‘Everything okay?’ I nod in the direction of her phone. It’s an email, I can see now. Quite a long one.

Gemma takes a long, slow breath. She types out, Regards, Gemma , then hits send without so much as a quick proofread, and lowers her phone.

‘Everything is very okay, actually. I just quit my job. Well – I’m sure I’ll have to deal with some long, annoying conversations with HR on Tuesday morning when they actually read my email, since it’s bank holiday weekend and all, but. ’

‘But,’ I repeat, and smile. ‘You quit. Good for you. That’s … I’m really proud of you, Gem. That sounds like a good move.’

‘Yeah. Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?’ She nods with conviction now, and grins at me.

‘I mean, it’s kind of unhinged behaviour, I’m well aware, but – once this weekend is done, I’m out .

Kaput. Finito. I am away . I’ve got enough of an emergency fund saved up to see me through till I find another job, but anywhere has got to be better than that place.

Anywhere so long as I’m not working for a girl who stabs me in the back and cheats me out of things I’ve earned and deserve.

And when I’m back, I’ll start looking for another house-share.

Maybe even leave London? I mean, there’s nothing keeping me there.

I could go to Bristol, maybe. Or Manchester.

Edinburgh! Belfast! Paris! As long as I never have to see the inside of Orly fucking Airport ever again in my life …

It’s a clean slate, Leon. I could go anywhere.

Do anything. Be …’ She finally falters, her breath hitching and eyes shining.

But she keeps smiling at me, shoulders squared, looking so completely sure of herself. ‘Be someone else.’

‘Be yourself,’ I say, and she nods. A couple of rogue tears drop off the ends of her eyelashes, and I think I’ve seen her cry more in the last twenty-four hours than our whole lives put together.

‘Yeah,’ she says in a shaky voice. ‘Myself. I like that.’

Just as we lapse into quiet and I’m trying to figure out how to say what I probably should’ve told her a while ago, Gemma laughs.

‘Who knows? Maybe Fran’s looking for a new flatmate.

If she could put up with me for twelve hours in a Parisian airport, maybe she won’t mind spending a bit more time with me.

At least then I won’t be totally alone and starting from scratch.

Oh, God, starting from scratch . Isn’t that a midlife crisis sort of thing? I’m only twenty-five!’

I wait for her to stop laughing, and tell her, ‘You know you don’t have to be alone, Gem, right? You’ve got us.’

She cuts me a dry look. ‘What part of clean slate did you miss? I’m cutting Kayleigh out of my life. I don’t—’

‘Yeah, but … I mean, she’s cutting us out, too, so it’s not like you’d be running into each other constantly if you came to visit. Mum’d like it if you did, you know. She’s always liked you. And you were always hanging around the house like you were part of the family anyway.’

‘This better not be you trying to replace your sister with me. Although, admittedly, I am a significant upgrade.’ She pauses for a moment. ‘And I do really love your mum’s roast dinners. She makes the best lamb.’

I grin and knock my shoulder against hers. ‘Of course that’s not what I’m doing, you muppet. I just … I want you to know, that’s all. You’re welcome any time. You always have been. You send each of us a bloody birthday card every year.’

‘Of course I do! It’s only a birthday card, though, it’s not that deep.’

It’s more than Kay has remembered lately, but I don’t point that out. I just roll my eyes, and when Gemma sniffles and throws her arms around me, I give her a hug back, and don’t let go until she’s ready.

It’s not replacing Kay, because I really do mean it – Gemma’s been like part of the family since Kay met her, too entwined in Kay’s life for her not to become part of ours, too. And besides, if Kayleigh can move on and build her own sort of family, shouldn’t Gemma be allowed to as well?

‘Thanks, Leon. I’ll take you up on that.’

‘You’d better.’

She kisses my cheek before swanning off to pull up a chair by my parents.

They light up when they see her, even though they’ve spoken a few times already over the course of the day.

Dad laughs at something she says, and Mum’s getting her phone out to show her photos of something while Gemma responds animatedly.

I catch Myleene’s eye across the room, and she jerks a head in their direction quizzically.

I shrug, she shrugs back, we end up caught in an elaborate, silent shrug-off until Myleene is too busy laughing to keep it up, and gives me the middle finger before heading off to chat to some of Marcus’s work friends.

I’m a bit worried she’s got a mind to chat them up , but we’ll deal with that later.

On the other side of the room, Kayleigh has a glass of champagne in her hand and is showing her rings off to some people I don’t recognise. She looks totally in her element. She’s hardly stopped smiling all day; she’s glowing.

I really am glad she’s happy.

But it’s nice to finally accept that her happiness doesn’t have to be at the expense of ours, and I head over to join my family with a smile on my face and a lightness in my chest.

I pass by the table with the couple of photos commemorating the loved ones who couldn’t be here.

There’s one of Nana on her seventieth birthday at the Mamma Mia experience she went to with some friends, draped in a bright blue feather boa and wearing a giant badge and plastic heart-shaped sunglasses that match Myleene’s, her wrinkled face beaming out of the photo at me.

Nana, I hope I did you proud.

A warm breeze skitters along the terrace, ruffling my hair. I decide to take it as a sign.