My childhood was such a solid time. We always sat down for meals together and talked. Every Friday, Tracy and I would have a bath and then snuggle up in our dressing gowns. A table would be pulled into the lounge and we’d all eat a proper three-course meal together and chat about our week. I know that what they were doing was teaching us to eat properly as much as anything; but to Tracy and me it was just a lovely cosy way of ending the week. We were like a little gang.
Tracy and I have always been close. She says she loved me from the moment she set eyes on me as a new baby. We look alike but our personalities are different, though. I’m more like my dad – we’re quite calm, we don’t really like arguments, and when we think we’re right, we stick to our guns. Tracy is like Mum – they’re pretty fiery, they will argue and they will cry and shout, but they calm down again just as quickly. Both of us were independent and learned from an early age to stand on our own two feet.
One place we learned independence was on family holidays abroad. We often went to Cala d’Or, in Majorca, where a business friend of my parents had a villa. Tracy and I had loads of freedom there because it was so safe. We’d disappear in the morning, play on the beach and when we were hungry or thirsty we’d go into cafés and bars on our own. They let us have a ‘slate’ so that we could order drinks and snacks on tick and later on, when the owner saw Dad, they’d tell him what he owed. It was blissful, and a good way of teaching us independence.
This confidence stood me in good stead at school. I don’t recall getting bullied or picked on because I would always stand up for myself, and for anyone I loved. At one point, my cousin Helen was having a hard time at high school and I went over to the girl who was the ringleader and said: ‘Don’t you dare do anything to hurt my cousin, Helen! It’s horrible and I love her, so you stop it now!’ I had to crane my neck just to look at this girl, who was about twice my size, but I’d do anything for people who are close to me.
My parents have always been totally behind me and I couldn’t imagine anything else. They taught me how to act when I met new people, how to be polite, and all the little things such as what cutlery to use at a meal – but I think Paul’s upbringing had focused on different values. At any rate, he seemed totally fazed by the prospect of dinner at my family home.
Mum and Dad didn’t know much about Paul before I announced that he was my boyfriend but during the following week they found out more. In fact, I felt as if I had to get both them and Paul ready for the big day! He was so worried about them, and they wanted to know so much about him, that I was constantly being questioned by someone or other. I was the only one who wasn’t worried, because I felt sure they would get on.
My dad came out with some typical ‘dad stuff’ as the week went on. The morning after Paul first picked Nicky and me up to give us a lift into town the previous March, I had mentioned to Dad that he smoked, and he brought it up now. He said, ‘He’s 18 and he smokes, our Lindsey. You’ll never be happy!’ It was true I hated smoking with a passion and had always said I’d never get involved with someone who had a cigarette in their hand, but with Paul it didn’t matter, and I regretted I’d mentioned it to Dad.
I couldn’t really tell them about any of the problems with Gemma. Open and friendly as they were, they would have found it difficult to understand that complication. As it was, they only knew of Paul as my best friend’s cousin and the lad from the estate who was doing so well at snooker.
I knew more. I knew that there was just something about him. He was the first bad lad, the first naughty lad I’d ever been drawn to. I never quite knew where I was with him and I liked that. I told myself, ‘You’ve taken your eye off the ball here, Lindsey Fell. What are you thinking about, falling for this one?’ It didn’t matter – I really liked him, and I knew my parents would too.
Sunday arrived, and I was probably the most relaxed out of everyone. Tracy had gone out with her boyfriend, Chris, and I helped Mum to get everything ready. There was enough food to feed an army, never mind one skinny 18-year-old. As I looked at the table collapsing under dishes and cutlery and glasses, for a fleeting moment I did wonder whether Paul had been right to be worried. The Queen could have come round that day and we wouldn’t have been shown up.
I went round to Paul’s house to pick him up and when I got there, his mum ushered me into their living room. ‘Come in, Lindsey,’ said Kris. ‘Make yourself at home. Paul tells me he’s coming for a lovely meal to your house today.’ I couldn’t imagine that Paul had used the word ‘lovely’ to describe it, but I nodded and we chatted for a bit, mostly about the holiday and work, until Paul appeared. He wore a smart shirt and trousers and had about half a ton of gel on his hair. He said goodbye to his mum, who saw us to the door quite formally, and as soon as he was in my car, he gave a huge sigh.
‘I’m a wreck,’ he said. ‘All I’m trying to do is get you to sleep with me – it better be worth the bother,’ he joked.
When we got back to my house there was no need for introductions as Paul had met my parents before, and thankfully he kept his ‘Big Bad G’ comments to himself. I saw his face fall as we went through to the room with the table all neatly set, but then he cheered up straight away when my dad asked him what he would like to drink.
‘I’ll have a vodka, please, Graham, a very large one,’ Paul said. ‘And if you could just keep them coming at a steady rate for the rest of the day, I’d be much obliged.’ He winked and Dad laughed and somehow the ice was broken. Paul could put anyone at ease, and the tone was immediately set for the rest of the day. He was so charming that my mum and dad thought he was great from that moment on.
The food was delicious and I filled Paul’s plate for him as I knew he was worried about spilling anything. As I passed it to him, I laid his fork and knife on top, and he winked at me. We had a secret little smile between us, and I felt really happy. The rest of the day was good fun – Paul relaxed once he had drunk enough, and Mum and Dad seemed tickled to have a boyfriend of mine be so engaging and entertaining. About 5pm, we had to get going as Mum and Dad had some do on at their golf club. As we stood at the door, saying goodbyes, Paul gave my mum a big kiss and said, ‘Lovely meal, Pauline. I trust you’ll keep to the same standards in the future when I’m round.’ She giggled a bit – my mum giggled! – and he shook my dad’s hand. It was perfect, it had all gone so well.
We got into my car but didn’t drive for long. I parked just round the corner and leaned over to give him a huge hug. ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ I asked him. ‘No, not really – but I’m a bag of nerves, Linz. I’m glad I won’t have to meet them for the first time ever again. I couldn’t cope.’ I had to laugh – this was a professional snooker player whose job required him to stay calm while hundreds and thousands of people watched him, and he’d been scared of my family! When I dropped him off at his house, I felt so pleased. I knew his mum would be wanting a blow-by-blow account of what had happened, then he was going out with his cousin Anthony for a night out to get over his fraught day.
When I got back, Mum said, ‘I don’t know anything about snooker, our Lindsey, but what a nice lad he is! Your dad’s heard of him, but I’ve no idea. Is he definitely your boyfriend now?’ I said that he was, and the words sounded funny even to me. ‘Well,’ my mum replied, ‘I don’t know what you’re doing with a lad so young, what with you being so sensible and so mature, but he’s lovely.’
My dad agreed. ‘He’s just a regular nice guy; you’d never think he’s got money or status. But you know what he is, Lindsey? He’s a bit of a “Jack the lad”.’
There was something about Paul – even my parents could see it. It had been complicated while he was on and off with Gemma, but I felt that we were on the right path now.
Over the next few weeks, things continued to go well. Paul came to our house frequently, and it soon became as natural for him to be there – and eat his dinner there – as it was at his own home. By September, my parents had accepted him totally. He was one of the family only six months after we met.