Ive been running on empty, endless onenight flings and a parade of dates, so when I finally bumped into Harriet bright, funny and clever I thought, This might be the real thing. We met up at a little café on the South Bank, listened to a busker with a battered guitar, swapped stories about my new project at the fintech firm and her love for modern poetry. When we discovered we both liked a Christmas salad with apples in it, we both laughed and decided to keep the momentum going.
Harriet invited me over to her flat in Manchester for dinner. I dug out my best shirt, shaved, memorised a few odd verses from her favourite poet, grabbed a bunch of roses and a bottle of decent red. I strutted over feeling like the cat that circles its bowl fifteen times a day totally confident. The only thing I didnt expect was the line, Good evening, Im Jack. My mums in the shower, come on in.
I froze. Jacks face was a square, almost childlike, and he stretched out a hand that could have wrapped around my whole head. At first I thought Id got the wrong address, but when Jack let out a massive sneeze, nose tucked in his fingers just like Harriet does, I knew I was in the right place. My mood started to dip, the wine went sour and the roses began to wilt.
I stepped inside and, seeing Jacks trainers, I nearly shouted they were huge, like I could slip my shoes into them and still have room to grow. Harriet was a proper handful, barely a foot taller than me. I thought about how handy it would be if women could treat gold the way they treat a good investment hand over a ring now and ten years later youve got a wedding band. While mulling that over I drifted into the kitchen where the table was already set and Jack was wrestling the curtains without a stepladder.
Give me five minutes, Ill be out in a flash, he shouted from the shower.
After what felt like a hundred fiveminute intervals the door finally opened and Harriet glided out in a sleek evening dress, makeup sparkling. She caught the sour look on my face, instantly got why I was feeling off, and the romance fizzed out like a popped bottle of champagne.
She set the plates down without a word, poured the wine herself and started eating before I could even sit down.
Why didnt you tell me you had a kid? I blurted, feeling a little cheated.
Scared of the trailer? she replied with a sad smile.
Its not a trailer, its a whole train.
Big, huh? Thats his dads side the tough bloke from a remote Yorkshire village. Bigger than Jacks dad, who once wrestled a bear with his bare hands.
And where is he now? I swallowed hard.
Out on the road, with that same bear. He left us for the big stage. Sometimes he writes letters, but the handwriting looks like its done by the bear itself no conscience there.
How old is he? I looked toward the wall.
Fourteen, just got his passport.
Strong?
Very funny.
We ate in silence after that, the conversation never quite clicking.
More meat? I asked, sliding the plate.
Like it?
Honestly, Ive never tasted anything better. What is this?
Moose meat. Jack cooks it.
No way, hes talented.
It runs in the family old cookbooks, a set of knives, a fishing rod, even a little boat he built himself.
A boat? I swallowed.
Yes, its down in the cellar. The sons a keen fisherman.
Harriets phone buzzed, she excused herself to take the call.
Time to head home, I thought. Nothing left to do here.
She popped back, looking a bit flustered. Theres been an accident at work. Could you mind keeping Jack for a couple of hours?
Me? With Jack? Why?
Hes still a minor, you never know what could happen. People are buzzing around the flats
Youre afraid someonell nick him?
Bottom line, Harriet changed tone, Ill pay you for the lost evening and the babysitting, and then I wont call again. Deal?
What am I supposed to do with him?
Just chat, you know, mens stuff. Ive got to run.
I didnt get to answer before Harriet was off, probably heading to a meeting. I sat in the kitchen, drained my phone, finished the meat, finished the wine, and waited. The door to Jacks room creaked open and I heard familiar sounds.
No way, I muttered and knocked.
Open up.
I nudged the door gently and slipped into what looked like a teenage bedroom. The first thing that hit me was a massive wooden target studded with knives and arrows no holes in the wall, just perfect hits. A vinyl record player sat on a table, Iron Maiden humming low in the background a band Ive loved forever. Jack was in the corner, tinkering with fishing gear. On a shelf were trophies, a boxing bag hanging from the ceiling, and a brandnew console by the TV.
Your mum does a good job feeding you, I joked, halfenvy.
I work in summer, Jack replied, and I felt a pinch of shame. Id imagined Harriet frantically hunting for an endless wallet for her kid, but he seemed pretty selfsufficient.
Got a charger for my phone? I asked, holding it up.
Theres one near the railway line, he said, pointing.
The railway line? I stammered, then saw a fullscale model railway set, and my breath stopped.
You built it yourself? I whispered.
Yeah, adding bits here and there, planning a second level and a few bridges. A new box of tracks just arrived, but I cant get my hands on them yet.
A heat rose in my chest.
Can I see it run? I asked.
One minute, he said, putting the gear down, standing tall and crossing the room in a single stride.
Harriet came back an hour later, certain Id already bolted, and hurried into the room where Jack and I were fiddling with the railway. It was hard to tell who was older.
Tom, you should get home, she whispered.
What? Ohwhat time is it?
Half past eleven, she yawned, tired. Ive got another emergency at work tomorrow, need some sleep.
She walked me to the door, planted a quick kiss on my cheek and handed me a few notes.
I dont take money from women, I said, a little annoyed.
Thanks for watching my trailer, she replied.
I gave a short smile and left.
A few days later I called, Hey, can I pop round again?
She sounded swamped, Works a mess, not really looking for anything our last meetup
What about Jack?
Jack? she asked, puzzled.
Yeah, could I check in on him?
I dont know have to ask him.
Ive already texted him. Hes cool. I got a new game for his Xbox, we could chill while you do your thing.
Alright, see you tonight.
That evening I showed up in a completely different outfit no shirt, no perfume, no wine, just a plain black tee with my favourite band on it, a backpack stuffed with crisps and soda, and a goofy kidlike grin.
Just keep it lowkey Ive got a twohour video call coming up, Harriet greeted me in a cozy robe, a fabric mask over her face, breath smelling faintly of onion soup.
I nodded and slipped into the teenage room.
Harriet soon had to break up a heated debate between Jack and me about Balabanov versus Guy Ritchie. Both were defending their favourite directors with such passion they were about to launch a sixhour movie marathon, until Harriet stepped in, declared both of them victims of bad taste, and ushered me out.
Dont forget the bait for Saturday! Jack shouted from the room.
Bait for what? Harriet asked me, eyeing me.
Were going for pike. I told Jack theres a shop with topnotch bait. I havent been fishing in ages.
You guys are mates, huh? Want to spend time with me?
You can join us, slice the sandwiches.
Fine, Ive got nothing better to do. Go on, have your fishing day, Harriet smiled, shooing me out. Work always eats my time anyway. At least the kid gets something to do.
A month passed. Harriet threw herself into her job, romance was the last thing on her mind. Jack and I used the time to finish the railway, catch some crayfish, brew a batch of homemade ginger beer from an old family recipe, and he taught me a few forestnavigation tricks. I gave him a crash course in flirting and helped him coax a girl from his class onto a date. Everything was ticking along nicely until one night a sudden knock sent ceiling lights crashing down.
Harriet opened the door and was hit by the smell of bear meat. Standing there was her exhusband, tall as a stack of crates, with Jacks father right behind him.
Ive figured it out, he declared, kneeling despite his height. My mate Potts and I are tired, want a quiet family life. Ive saved enough, well move you and Jack back to the village. Youll quit work, well fish and hunt together.
Right, funny ten years later you finally get it? Your bears also coming home?
No actually Ive signed a film deal behind my back, he muttered.
So thats it, Harriet crossed her arms. Youve just been tossed aside.
It doesnt matter! The main thing is that I now
He was cut off as I strode in wearing Harriets old football tee, the one Id swapped for my own.
Harriet, I grabbed your shirt cause mine got dirty while repainting the train with Jack, I said.
Can anyone finish a sentence in this flat? Harriet asked, looking from one man to the other.
Whos that? the exhusband asked, fist raised at me.
Its its Harriet stammered.
Jack burst from the room, slammed his dads arm against the wall and the man let out a howl.
This is a trailer! Jack hissed.
Its a trailer, son! Im your dad! What trailer? the older man gasped, clutching his head.
The trailer we use to haul everything you left behind.
But I left nothing, he muttered, finally getting the joke.
Harriet and I huddled in a corner, watching the two grownups tussle.
Alright, alright, truce, the dad grunted, loosening his grip.
Youre doing great, mate. Looks like youre ready for the boar hunt, he said, rubbing his arm. Maybe tomorrow I could go with you, talk about lost time? Im a father, not just some bloke.
Harriet stared between her ex and me, unsure what to say.
Yeah, I get it, I nodded, standing to leave.
Sorry
The next morning the father and son left at dawn, and Jack came back late, alone.
Wheres dad? Harriet asked, irritated.
Hes gone, Jack said, slipping off his shoes.
What do you mean gone? Just up and left?
Not exactly. He left with the boar, loaded it onto the trailer and drove off to train it. Found a new partner for shows, dropped me off in town and vanished.
Oh my God, Im such a fool, Harriet muttered, hitting her forehead. I should call Tom.
Dont, I just said goodbye. He drove me home, promised to swing by tomorrow.
How did he know where to pick me up?
He said hed keep an eye on us, make sure were okay.
And he really meant it?
Yes. Hes practically stuck to us now, probably never gets off.
The whole thing feels like a proper British soap, but thats the story as it went.
