Part 32 (2/2)

'You're giving him a lovely childhood, Laura,' I say.

'Thanks.' She pauses, then adds, 'He's missing Stevie. He was really shattered for days. Even though Stevie was only around for a couple of months, they really liked each other. Did I ever c.o.c.k that up. I should never have let Stevie get his feet so far under our table. Especially since he was getting other bits of his anatomy up your wife.'

I swallow. This isn't an easy conversation to have.

Laura sees my discomfort. 'Sorry, mate. This is obviously lousy for you too. You know I'm not delicate.'

'They didn't have s.e.x,' I repeat.

'What makes you so sure?' asks Laura. She still sounds doubtful but something in her voice suggests she wants to be convinced.

'I trust Bella on this.'

'Right!' The word explodes in a derisive and indignant snort.

'I do. I talked and talked to her. She went into detail about their encounters, so much detail that what she said had to be true.'

Laura seems to consider this. Eddie retrieves his ice cream from her and I think she's admiring the flower beds but it appears she's watching the visitors. 'What a drama. I didn't want my life to be so full of drama and disappointment. I just want the chance to be normal, like that family over there. Is that so much to ask?' She points, apparently randomly, to a couple sat on a picnic rug under a large birch tree. They look as though they've set up camp for a week. Besides the enormous double buggy and picnic basket, they are weighed down with umbrellas, parasols, suncream, raincoats, spare clothes, three children and a baby.

The mother opens an endless stream of Tupperware boxes, and dishes out food to her family while breastfeeding. She looks frazzled. The father appears to be equally irritated. He keeps insisting that the children ought to sit down and shut up but he's ignored. His broadsheet is flapping in the wind and several pages escape. He chases them, muttering obscenities. The family is boisterous and fraught. But I still know why Laura envies them.

'They weren't having an affair, Laura. They had a flirtation with their past. Not even with their present. I don't believe either of them is attracted to what and who they are now. They fell, briefly, for the sixteen-year-old versions of each other.'

'Nice theory,' says Laura, sarcastically. 'Very convenient.'

'It's what I believe,' I reply.

'So, they're not together now?'

'No.'

'I take it you've forgiven her then?' asks Laura. I can almost smell her disapproval, it's so raw and unmanageable.

'The thing is, Laura, not many people have me down as a romantic. It's one of the drawbacks of being practical when it comes to DIY,' I say, trying to make light of seriously heavy subject matter. 'But I am a romantic. I loved Bella from first sight and I still love her.'

'Well then, I'm sorry for you.'

'Don't be.'

I wonder how far I want to involve myself in this. Should I just leave Laura to her own savage pit of despair or should I try to get her out of there? Over the last month I've got pretty good at these big emotional talks, but h.e.l.l, they are draining and not what you'd call second nature to me. I decide I'm prepared to give it one more push.

'I know you're hurt because you feel betrayed by Stevie.'

'And Bella.'

Women!

'And Bella,' I add carefully, in an effort to placate. 'And I know you're scared. d.a.m.n, Laura, believe me, there's nothing you can tell me about fear. When I remember Bella and I are not husband and wife, I think I might stop breathing. Understanding that fact might make my lungs collapse. I don't want to lose her. I understand scared.'

Laura shakes her head in disbelief. 'Lucky, b.l.o.o.d.y Bella. She always falls on her feet. Before she met you she stumbled into opportunity after opportunity, even though she always blew it. Then she met you and you adore her. But does she appreciate you? No, she p.i.s.ses you about to the extent of marrying you while she's married to my boyfriend and you still don't think that's a sacking offence. Astounding. Just thinking about it makes me want to spit chips.'

'Stop ranting, Laura.' I've had my fill of hysterical women for the moment. 'Love is more important than anything, more important than a marriage certificate for a dead marriage or an absent decree absolute. Love is the only thing that counts and I love Bella.'

How embarra.s.sing is this? What happened in my life that it seems to be a sensible thing that I am sat on a park bench in a botanical garden and instead of discussing the seasonal blooms and asking for advice on invaluable gap fillers for my borders, I am talking about love. The answer is patent: Bella happened.

Since Bella opened up that lunchtime in THE Hotel in Las Vegas we have had countless 'long chats'. I have spent an inordinate amount of the past month talking about feelings, thoughts, beliefs and, well, love, essentially. It's not too awful, I suppose. But I hope to draw a line under the entire exercise as soon as possible. It's women's work. The thing I need to say to Laura is very straightforward.

'Being with Bella makes me happy. She wants to be with me, I want to be with her. I'm going to find a way to make that happen.'

'Are you going to get married again?' asks Laura. From her tone, I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to be bridesmaid.

'When the decree absolute comes through, I'll ask her to marry me again.'

Laura glares at me. 'Sucker,' she snarls.

'Laura, happiness or unhappiness is a choice and I'm far too sensible to choose unhappiness.'

Laura looks as though I have slapped her face. 'You think this is my fault.'

'Not at all.'

'You do. You think I'm sulking, unnecessarily.'

'No, Laura, I think you're scared senseless.'

'You're on her side.'

'There are no sides. I'm Switzerland, totally neutral about everything and quite keen on peace and trade treaties.' Laura looks infuriated. I'm sorry I always resort to joking when I'm agitated, especially as they are never remarkably spectacular jokes. 'I can love Bella and like you too, you know.'

'I do know. Stevie set the precedent for that.'

'Laura, you're not thinking clearly. You're angry with Bella for not sorting out her past and getting everything muddled, but you're guilty of the same thing. You were hurt so badly by Oscar that now you're pulling out of anything you and Stevie might have going because you're scared of being hurt again.'

'Stevie pulled out of that by lying to me. By kissing my best friend and-' Laura stumbles to a halt.

If she accepts that Stevie and Bella weren't having an affair, which I think she might now, Stevie's misdemeanours are significantly less appalling.

'What are you saying?' she asks.

'It might not be a bad idea to have a think about whether Stevie made you happy.'

'You know he did.'

'And ask yourself whether you really have to throw that away.'

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