‘Is that you, Mickey?’ Jesse called out tentatively.
He peered round the office door and nearly choked on his whisky.
‘Hello,’ said Loveday in a quiet voice. ‘I just wanted to see you, you know, make sure you were all right an’ that.’
‘I’m fine.’ He stood and wiped his suddenly sweating hands on his jeans. ‘Do you want a drink?’ He watched her as she closed the main door. The sound of the flapping tarpaulins in the yard was instantly silenced.
‘’Tis windy outside,’ she said. ‘And ever so cold.’
‘I can make you tea? No milk, though. That would warm you up.’
‘What are you drinking?’
Jesse looked sheepish. ‘Me dad’s whisky.’
‘I’ll ’ave one of those then.’
‘Right.’ Jesse found a cleanish mug and poured her a decent measure. She had walked closer to him now. ‘Come in and make yourself comfortable. My dad’s chair is the best.’ He pointed at an ageing armchair.
‘Lovely. Thanks,’ said Loveday, taking the drink he handed her and settling herself. ‘I thought you might be up ’ere. Are you nervous about tomorrow? Mickey’s like a flea on a trampoline about his speech.’
‘Is he?’ smiled Jesse, plonking himself on the only other seat, the part-time accounts secretary’s swivel chair. ‘He won’t tell me nothing about what he’s going to say.’
‘He’s told me some of it. It’s good. Nothing too embarrassing. He doesn’t want to upset Greer’s family, them being so proper an’ all.’ She raised her mug. ‘So, cheers then. ’Ere’s to you and Greer.’
‘Cheers,’ said Jesse, and they both drank.
‘Is your dress all right then?’ asked Jesse.
‘No.’
‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘Everything.’ Loveday began to laugh. ‘It’s truly ’orrible. Greer calls it peach but it’s more like orange – not my kind of colour at all. It makes me look like a really fat milkmaid and I can’t move my arms in it.’
Jesse frowned. ‘Have you told Greer?’
Loveday waved a hand airily. ‘Oh, well, it’s Greer’s day and it’s what she wants. I can’t tell her I hate it, can I?’
‘I bet you look lovely in it, really.’
‘No, really I don’t. I mean, my mum likes it and Mickey will like it because he likes whatever I wear but …’ She looked down at her drink, the smile gone. ‘I look awful in it and I feel awful in it and I know what people will be saying behind my back.’ Jesse heard the catch in her voice.
‘Hey.’ He leant forward and looked up into her eyes. ‘I’ll punch anybody who says you don’t look beautiful. You always look beautiful to me.’
She wiped a burgeoning tear away and tried a smile. ‘Shut up, you idiot.’
Jesse tilted back into his chair. ‘I’m a bit nervous too.’
‘Whatever for?’
‘Well, getting married is a big step.’
‘But you and Greer are made for each other.’ She looked at him carefully. ‘Aren’t you?’
‘Oh, yes, of course we are. She’s great you know, we’re mates. Known each other for ever, almost as long as I’ve known Mickey, and you.’
‘I used to have a crush on you when I was little.’ The whisky had gone to her head.
Jesse laughed. ‘I know.’
Loveday stuck her tongue out at him. ‘Don’t laugh! ’Twas awful. All you ever did was go off with Mickey and play football.’
‘What did you want me to do?’
‘Play with me.’
‘And do what? Talk about Barbie and work on dance routines?’
‘You’re a shit dancer, Behenna.’
‘So are you.’
She stuck her leg out and kicked his shin. ‘’Ow dare you! I was disco champion one Christmas at school.’
‘The boys voted for you because your bottom wobbled so nicely in your costume.’
She gave him another kick in the shins. ‘Got any more of that whisky?’
Jesse reached for the bottle and poured each of them a generous slug.
‘D’you remember the school poetry competition?’ said Loveday. ‘The one when Greer wrote that soppy thing about the universe and the animals.’
Jesse started to giggle. ‘I didn’t understand a single bleddy word.’
‘Her face when she was up there reading it.’ Loveday put on a holier-than-thou expression. ‘All serious like and putting on a posh voice.’
‘She won, though,’ said Jesse loyally.
‘Yeah, but only because the bleddy teachers didn’t understand it either. They only gave her first prize ’cos they couldn’t face her mother complaining.’
‘’Er mum’s all right, really,’ Jesse said.
‘Yeah. Course she is,’ Loveday added quickly. She hadn’t meant to be so mean about her friend. She blamed it on the whisky and being made to wear a dress that looked horrid.
‘No … it’s just that, well, that’s my new family we’re laughing about.’
They sat in silence, absorbing this reality.
Loveday moved to stand up. ‘Well, I only came to see if you were all right, that’s all, and you look fine to me.’
Jesse put his hand up and stopped her. ‘Don’t go. I like you being here.’
Loveday touched his blond hair and stroked it. ‘Do you?’
‘Yes.’
Loveday sat down slowly. ‘How nervous are you about tomorrow?’
Jesse stretched up, leaned back and blew a long breath out of his mouth. ‘To be honest, I’m shit scared. Am I doing the right thing, Loveday?’
‘Course you are, Jesse.’ She gave him a reassuring smile. ‘You’re marrying Greer. How can that be wrong? You’re going to be part of a new company. You’ll make money and drive a flash car and have holidays in Spain. Of course you’re doing the right thing.’
‘Then why does it feel so wrong?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘It feels wrong. I’m only twenty-one and I’m not sure if I want to marry anyone … not just Greer. It’s not her fault.’ He stuck the heels of his hands over his eyes and almost soundlessly said, ‘The truth is I’m scared.’
Loveday came off her chair and knelt in front of Jesse. ‘Scared of what, darlin’?’
‘Just plain scared.’
She hesitated, then put her arms round him and rocked him soothingly. ‘It’s all right, darlin’. I’m here. What you’re feeling is normal for a bloke. Getting married is a big day, but that’s all it is. A big day, then everything gets back to normal. You’ll go on your honeymoon and when you get back we’ll all still be here. Just the same. Nothing changed.’
‘That’s what makes it so frightening. Nothing will have changed and nothing will change till the day I die. Trevay, the boats, my family, you and Mickey. All the same. I’m stuck.’
‘What nonsense is this? You’re not stuck. You’ll have money to go anywhere in the world, do anything you want.’
‘With Greer and her money.’
‘With your wife and your money.’
He took his hands from his eyes and looked desperately at Loveday. ‘I’ve made a mistake. I’m … I’m marrying the wrong person.’
Loveday let go of him and sat back on her heels. The wind had picked up again and the sound of the wires on the masts of the boats in the harbour travelled up the lane, past St Peter’s, and now swirled through the crack in the door of the Behenna shed. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I should never have let Dad persuade me.’ He looked at her in desperation. ‘It’s you, Loveday.’
He had crossed the Rubicon. The words were spoken. The truth was told. Loveday’s heart was hammering in her chest. She felt faint and a bit sick.
‘Me?’
He nodded.
Outside the first flurry of snow twisted in the wind.
Inside she leant forward and kissed him.
*
‘What are we going to do?’ Loveday was lying on the makeshift blanket of Jesse’s parka.
‘We could do it again.’ He traced the soft dough of her stomach from her belly button to her breasts. She shut her eyes to enjoy the pleasure of him squeezing her nipples and taking each in turn into his mouth and sucking gently on them.
‘I mean about Mickey and Greer.’
He took his lips from her sweet breast and moved up her body to look into her eyes.
‘I don’t know.’
‘I don’t want to hurt Mickey.’
‘Kiss me.’
‘I don’t want to hurt Greer.’
‘Kiss me.’
His kiss was gentle and she couldn’t help but kiss him back. Gently they made love again.
Outside the wind caught hold of something and the bang woke Loveday.
‘Oh my God. Look at the time.’ Loveday was holding her watch. ‘We’ve been here for ages.’
Jesse, curled round her hips and thighs, woke groggily. ‘Shit.’
The almost empty bottle of whisky, regarding them from the top of the dusty metal desk, stood as the sole witness to their crime.
They dressed in near silence, passing each other a stray sock or lost shoe.
Together they left the shed. It had been snowing and a small drift had built along the bottom edge of the door. Jesse struggled to push the door shut, leaning his full weight against it to fit the padlock in the hasp and lock it.
Finally it was done and, putting their arms around each other, they walked out of the yard, down the lane, past the church and on to their homes and their beds.
Watching them go, bivouacked between the hulls of two clinker boats, was Grant. He’d followed Loveday when she had slipped out of her house after Mickey had dropped her off. He had had ideas of his own about what he and she could get up to that night. When she’d headed towards the sheds it had seemed to him almost as if she wanted him to follow her. Then he’d seen that the door was already unlocked and that his shitty little brother, the golden son, was already there. He’d watched them then and he watched them now. This was a little treasure hoard that had fallen into his lap. He’d spend it wisely.