Chloe was my best friend from school. She lived just outside Claddach with her husband, Rob, and their three kids. Her smallest child, Euan, had just turned two and she was still a bit self-conscious about what she called her “mum tum”.
‘Did you manage to sort out who’s sitting where,’ Mum asked. We’d had many discussions on the phone about how to arrange the tables. ‘I did,’ I said, pleased with myself. ‘Do you have the table plans, Allan?’
‘Oh god, not table plans,’ Harry said, rather unfairly in my opinion. I’d been nothing but supportive when she and Louise tied the knot last year. She drained her wine glass and looked at her wife.
‘Shall we go for a walk before the snow gets too bad?’ she said. Lou, who loved nothing more than being outside, whatever the weather and whatever the activity on offer, nodded eagerly.
‘Erm, before you go,’ Mum said, looking nervous. ‘I’ve got some news.’
My heart plummeted into my slippers. Just a couple of years ago, Suky – Mum’s twin sister – had been treated for breast cancer. She was doing well now, but that fear – the fear of the cancer returning or someone else I loved suffering – had never gone away.
Now I looked at Mum in horror, seeing my own fear reflected on Harry’s face.
‘Oh it’s nothing bad,’ Mum said shrilly. ‘It’s good in fact. Very good.’
She gave a funny self-conscious laugh.
‘I’ve met someone. A man.’
There was a pause, then Harry clapped her hands in delight.
‘Auntie Tess, you old dog,’ she said. ‘Who is he?’
Mum visibly relaxed and beamed at Harry.
‘He’s called Douglas,’ she said, blushing. I’d never seen my mum blush before. ‘He’s lovely.’
I couldn’t speak. Mum had split up with my dad before I was born. She’d never, as far as I knew, had a relationship since.
‘Douglas?’ I muttered. ‘Who is this Douglas? Can we meet him?’
Mum glanced at Suky.
‘He’s from the village,’ she said. ‘He runs his own business.’
‘What kind of business?’ I snapped. Jamie put a warning hand on my arm.
‘A family business,’ Suky said soothingly. ‘I’ve met him. He’s very nice. And he’s coming up for a drink now, isn’t he Tess?’
Mum nodded.
‘He’s on his way,’ she said. ‘He just texted me.’
‘Oh brilliant,’ I said, knowing I was being very childish. ‘So you just dump this on us, then before we’ve even had time to take it all in, he arrives?’
Mum looked a bit sheepish.
‘I did mean to tell you earlier,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’
I shrugged.
‘Bit late for that,’ I said. Jamie kicked me under the table.
‘He sounds great,’ he said in a very pointed fashion. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting him, Tess.’
I kicked him back. Harder. And then the doorbell rang.
Mum blushed again and hurried off to answer it. I heard muffled voices and then she appeared back in the kitchen followed by a tall man with olive skin. He was in his sixties I guessed – a similar age to my mum – and was wearing a thick waterproof jacket, jeans, a woolly hat and snow boots. He smiled at us all a bit nervously, and pulled the hat from his head, revealing closely cropped dark hair with a sprinkling of grey.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘I’m Doug.’
‘This is my daughter Esme,’ Mum said. I smiled at Douglas though inside I was scowling and nodded “hello”. ‘And her fiancé Jamie.’
Jamie stood up and shook Douglas’s hand. Harry and Louise did the same as Mum introduced them, too.
‘Why don’t we all go into the living room,’ Mum said. ‘We can have a drink and relax.’
Eva and Allan – who apparently were already well acquainted with Douglas – said their goodbyes, leaving the wedding folder for me to look at, and headed out into the snow. The rest of us trooped into the lounge and I deliberately sat as far away from Mum and Douglas as possible.
‘Tess said you’ve got a family business,’ Harry, who was a brilliant businesswoman herself and who’d obviously abandoned her idea of going for a walk, said. ‘What do you do?’
Douglas looked slightly nervous again.
‘We run a funeral home,’ he said. ‘Me and my brother and my niece.’
I was horrified.
‘Dead people,’ I said. ‘Do you do all the embalming and stuff?’ I looked at Mum wondering how she could let him touch her with hands that spent all day touching cold, clammy dead flesh.
‘Actually no,’ Douglas said, shifting in his seat. ‘I look after the business side of things – the finances – it’s my brother Cameron who deals with the deceased and my niece Kirsty oversees all the arrangements. It works well for us.’
I wasn’t convinced.
‘So you’re an accountant for a funeral home,’ I pointed out, a bit too abruptly
Jamie nudged me.
‘You’re being very rude,’ he hissed. ‘Be nice.’
But I couldn’t. I knew I was being horrible but somehow I couldn’t help myself. Mum was mine. Unless you counted Suky – who was kind of mine too – I’d never shared Mum with anyone. Not my dad, who was lovely but had lived miles away my whole life, and not any siblings. It had just been me and her forever. And now she’d brought this man, this undertaker, into our relationship – just in time for my wedding? It was terrible.
I sat in silence, unable to think of anything to say, while Douglas charmed Harry and Lou, chatted with Jamie about rugby and made Suky and Mum laugh. He tried to ask me about the wedding but my monosyllabic answers soon put him off.
I stared out of the window at the snow, which was falling fast and watched a car crawl slowly up the hill towards our house, its lights bouncing off the snowflakes. It stopped outside our house.
‘Someone’s coming,’ I said. ‘Are we expecting anyone else?’
I looked at Mum.
‘No more men you’ve invited?’
‘Stop it,’ said Jamie under his breath. ‘Just stop it.’
Harry stood up and looked out the window.
‘It’s a woman and a wee boy,’ she said. ‘Must be going next door. That snow’s terrible – you might not get back down the hill tonight, Doug.’
She winked at Douglas and I flinched, determined not to rise to her teasing.
Then the doorbell rang. I looked at Mum who shrugged.
‘God, that poor woman must have come to the wrong house. In this weather,’ I said. ‘I’ll go and see.’
I opened the front door. A woman stood there, wrapped in a beautiful coat, with a small sleepy boy in her arms.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I’m looking for Jamie Brodie. Is he here?’