Page 13 of The Stand-in Dad

12 MEG

‘And then,’ Hannah said. ‘It had been there the whole time, so I just switched it on and showed them! They were blown away!’

Meg had been watching as Hannah spoke about some work drama, some close-to-the-wire stress that seemed a daily part of her work life, something Meg would absolutely hate to happen to her as regularly as it did for Hannah, but that her partner found so fulfilling to solve. She had been watching her girlfriend, no, her fiancée , speak for ages and was it usual that in the run-up to a wedding you became more and more obsessed with your partner? Every time Hannah returned home – maybe it was also her absence that was making Meg’s heart grow fonder – Meg was struck in a visceral way by how lucky she was.

‘What are you looking at?’ Hannah said. ‘Am I boring you?’

‘I’m just in love with you!’ Meg said.

Hannah smiled at her and pushed Meg’s foot with her own under the table.

They had come out on a Sunday night to a pub in another village; its outside was run-down and uninviting, but since moving back to the area, it was the best Sunday roast they had found. After sharing bread as a starter to save space, they were both struggling to get near the end of a veggie wellington that was full of broccoli, cauliflower, nuts and pulses. Thick gravy sat in a boat on the table unfinished.

‘It’s rare they give you too much gravy,’ Hannah said. ‘This is amazing.’

‘And the reason why we’re never going anywhere else.’

‘Do you remember when we used to drink a bottle each, no problem?’ Hannah asked, gesturing to their drinks. Hannah was drinking sparkling water, and Meg had no work to do the next day so she had ordered a small glass of red wine.

‘I do remember,’ Meg replied, rubbing her temples at the idea of a hangover. ‘But it seems like a lifetime ago.’

‘And in that student union bar, do you remember, we used to do that shot of … What was it? Before every night out?’

‘Baby Guinness! Those were disgusting, really.’

‘Yeah, don’t know what we were thinking.’

Perhaps it was normal, too, in the run-up to a wedding, to be reminiscent of all the time you had shared together, but particularly the first year you met. Rarely did a conversation go by when they did not talk about how much things had changed since then. Often, Hannah would find and send pictures of the two of them from that time that popped up on her phone or on her social media pages. In the photos there was always Meg, in her glasses because she hadn’t yet discovered contact lenses, and Hannah, her hair more curly and uncontrollable than it had ever been, before she had found the products and online tutorials that made up her extensive routine.

There were photos from before they got together; on opposite sides of group pictures on course nights out, when Hannah would bring out her old digital camera and take hundreds of photos. In the selection they always looked at, the two of them got closer and closer together as the terms progressed, until the photos were just of the two of them, smiling, hugging, kissing each other on the cheek. You could see, like a flip animation, the relationship build in real time.

‘Do you remember that old digital camera you used to have?’ Meg asked. ‘Before we had phones and I used to take it everywhere?’

‘I do!’ Hannah said. She said it so exuberantly it sounded like they were at the end of an aisle, on a day that was now less than three months away, and they both laughed. ‘I’m glad, or we wouldn’t have memories of that time. Well, we’d have the memories, but not, you know, the hundreds of photos of evidence.’

The pictures did seem like evidence, required proof of a time Meg could only faintly remember, more as a feeling than as a concrete set of full scenes. Maybe she’d print some of the photos out for the wedding, for on the tables or something.

They stayed for another drink. Neither of them could fit in a dessert, but they didn’t want the night to end (going to sleep meant another day closer to when Hannah would be off on a flight again) and Meg was glad they did because in the bar area of the pub, she bumped into Martha coming back from the toilets, dressed in leather trousers and a short T-shirt.

‘Hello!’

‘Martha, hi!’ Meg said, after just passing her and not realizing. Martha stood to give her a huge hug. ‘Sorry, it’s so dark in here.’

‘Who are you here with?’

‘My fiancée Hannah!’ Meg said. ‘Will you come and meet her?’

Martha separated from a group of five people her age, who all waved at Meg though she recognized no one, and followed Meg back over to their table.

‘Hannah, this is Martha who I was telling you about! The music teacher from my old school … and the DJ at our wedding!’

Hannah looked slightly shocked at the intake of all this information, but warmly greeted Martha and invited her to take a chair at their table. ‘Only if you have time,’ Hannah said.

‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘I’m with some very old friends and we’ve got nothing left to say to each other so don’t worry.’

‘So … our wedding,’ Hannah said. ‘Thank you so much! I can’t tell you how appreciative we are. It’s so nice to have so many queer people involved. That’s really important to us.’

She smiled and reached her hand out between her armchair and Meg to take Meg’s hand in hers.

‘It’s an absolute pleasure,’ she said. ‘I enjoy teaching at St Helens, but I get so much more from the DJing.’

‘How come you did learn?’ Meg asked. ‘In the end?’

‘It was David, actually,’ Martha said. ‘Though I think he’s forgotten. I kept saying it would be my new year’s resolution, and one time he just said to me, “You know you’ve mentioned that every year we’ve known each other.” That did it for me. I thought that was crazy! And I’d better follow through. If one of my friends was saying this, I’d be telling them to do it, so why not me?’

‘That’s so cool,’ Meg said.

‘So if you have any hobbies, any dreams,’ Martha said, running a hand over her short hair. ‘Then I say, just do it! No regrets, that’s my motto.’

‘How’s the teaching?’ Hannah said. ‘I bet it’s hard to do that and work at the weekend too, and late nights.’

‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘The older I’ve got, I actually have more energy, because I don’t waste it on stupid things. The thing with school, you’re never not busy, that’s for sure, but that’s how I like it. I’d be bored otherwise. I love teaching, and you know what, it’s a different place from when we were at school, and, Meg, from when you were there. I don’t think you’d recognize it.’

‘In what way?’ Meg said.

‘Kids are nicer, about most things.’ She looked somewhat emotional. ‘There will always be bullying in schools, sure, but everyone’s much more aware of what everyone else might be going through. I’ve found that even goes for teachers, which is crazy. A student having sympathy for their teacher!’

‘So would you know Meg’s parents then, at the school?’ Hannah asked, and Meg could hear the tentativeness in her voice, as if she wanted to ask but would stop if Meg didn’t want to hear. ‘Mr and Mrs Kirby?’

‘Yeah,’ Martha said. ‘They’re old-school, but you probably know that better than me, Meg. Keep themselves to themselves, stay in their classrooms or in each other’s, rather than mix. They teach proper subjects,’ Martha added. ‘So you do have to be a little more serious, getting judged on your exam results and things. No wonder they don’t have time to sit and talk rubbish in the staffroom like me and Mark.’

Martha looked at Meg, as if to see if what she said was okay.

‘They were always very serious,’ Meg said.

‘Some people have to be, I guess,’ she replied. ‘We never know what’s going on in people’s heads. Anyway, I’d better get back to my friends.’

‘No worries,’ Hannah said.

‘Send me a list of music you like, whenever you get a minute,’ she said. ‘Then I usually put together a playlist for different parts of the day, hoping it’s things you’d like. But you can say yes or no, go through it with a big red pen you know, do crosses and ticks. Like a teacher! It’s quite fun, I always think. Nothing’s off-limits; it’s your day. I won’t judge.’

Meg smiled. She couldn’t imagine Miss Apoline being a fan of B*Witched, but she was willing to be surprised. ‘Lovely to see you.’

‘Angie might be in later, if you’re still around,’ Martha said. ‘David said you’d met her. Nice to meet you, Hannah!’

She walked away and after a moment Hannah turned to her and slapped her hand playfully.

‘When did you get so bloody popular?’

On the walk home, sleepy and full, conversation turned back to the wedding; what was left and what had been done.

‘Do you need help with anything?’ Hannah said. ‘I know I fly on Tuesday but anything I can do remotely, do let me help. Shall I make that playlist?’

‘Oh yes please!’ Meg said. ‘I’ll give you Miss Apoline’s number.’

‘It’s so funny you still talk about her like she’s a teacher.’

‘She is a teacher!’ Meg shoved her playfully. ‘Otherwise we’re on it, I think. David’s been such a help, and we’ve got all these new people and his friends taking care of certain things. My spreadsheet is nearly full! I’ve found a couple of the vendors from his new business network. There’s a décor person I’ve sorted a meeting with.’

‘I was taking a look … The tacos look great too,’ Hannah said. ‘Such a great idea and we never wanted a sit-down meal anyway, did we?’

‘No,’ Meg said. ‘But do you think it’s enough food, like proper food?’

‘Of course! And if he does those little nacho cups you mentioned as a sort of canapé, I think that’s perfect, since there’ll be all the cake later too.’ Hannah watched her face out of the sides of her eyes as they turned onto their street.

‘I just worry if people think it’s weird when we have non-traditional things,’ she said. ‘Like if people expect a sit-down meal.’

‘And by people you mean your parents?’

‘Well, yeah.’

‘They haven’t got in touch, so once they’ve RSVP’d they can have opinions on the food.’

‘Hannah!’

‘Sorry, you know what I mean. We need to not care what people think. Everyone’s weddings are different, because everyone’s different.’

‘You’ve got me worried now, I realized they actually never RSVP’d. Should I have known?’

‘They’re your parents, Meg; we assumed they’d just be there. I don’t think mine did either. Has there been anything since that message?’

The day before, they’d sent a text saying they were sorry to have missed the appointment but they were finding the situation difficult. They didn’t say why, and when Meg replied saying they should talk about it, they didn’t respond.

‘No nothing,’ Meg said. ‘And I’m not double-texting.’

‘Just leave it,’ Hannah said. ‘The ball’s in their court again. I love you, Meg. I’m sorry this is happening.’

She reached over to hug her as they walked.

‘Everyone’s right though: we’ve just got to focus on the good stuff … Like, and I was meaning to ask, when are you going to buy your outfit?’ Meg said. ‘You can’t wear this.’

Hannah was wearing jeans and a big fluffy pink jumper, which was worn at the elbows and around the cuffs.

‘Why not?’ Hannah said. ‘It’s untraditional!’

Meg raised an eyebrow at her.

‘Mum’s coming down next month, the second or the third, I think it is,’ Hannah said. ‘She’s very excited, I’ve found a couple of shops I want to try.’

‘And you’re still not going to let me know …’ Meg said. ‘Dress or suit, or any other information?’

‘I really think it should be a surprise!’

‘Okay.’

‘You’re not telling me about yours, or showing me.’

‘Yes but you know I’m getting a white dress!’ Meg said.

‘When are you going to go?’

‘I think it’s on David’s list,’ Meg said. ‘This week actually. I don’t want to overthink it, I just want something nice I can eat tacos and Angie’s cakes and dance in.’

‘None of that dieting rubbish.’

‘On that subject,’ Meg said, ‘do we have the Dairy Milk left in the fridge for when we get home?’

Hannah nodded, and, holding hands, they sprinted down the rest of their road to get to it quicker.