Bear With Me Read online

  ‘You look amazing, Mum,’ I said, taking Sean by the hand and making our way towards the door.

  ‘I couldn’t resist a splash of colour,’ Mum said, pointing to her belt. She winked and pointed lower. ‘Make that two splashes of colour.’

  The church was busier than I expected. ‘Who are all of these people?’ I whispered to Mum, as we took our reserved pew at the front.

  ‘Work colleagues and golf club members,’ she whispered back. ‘Either that or they’re random strangers who are here for the free vol-au-vents and Pringles.’

  Several of them stood up and gave emotional eulogies. Each one enveloped me with guilt as I realised that I hadn’t known my dad at all. It seemed that many of the traits I disliked in him were admired amongst others. His desire for control had turned the golf club’s finances from dire into healthy. His fondness for structure and processes made him a role model at work and meant his branch consistently topped league tables. His calm and quiet demeanour meant he was the person they all confided in during troubled times. Who knew? Certainly not me!

  And I did cry. I tried to be strong for Sean, but something snapped inside me as I watched the coffin disappear behind the red velvet curtains before being lowered into the crematorium below. My dad was gone. We may not have been close, unlike Mum and I, but I still cared about him. In a funny way, I’d actually miss our awkward, stilted conversations. Over the past few years, he’d finally seemed to accept that he couldn’t control my career and, instead, feigned interest in my job as curator for the children’s section of the Past Lives Museum in London. In return, I feigned interest in the bank or golf, trying to stop my eyes from glazing over as he talked about ISAs, pensions, irons and handicaps. We always avoided talking about Bear With Me. And Mum. And Sean. It’s amazing how many conversations a person can have about the weather.

  Sean fell asleep in the car on the way home from the wake. He was completely out of it so Mum carried him into Bear’s Pad.

  ‘Baileys?’ I whispered, removing Sean’s shoes as Mum kicked off her heels.

  ‘Gosh, yes! A huge one with lots of ice.’

  She carried Sean upstairs while I retrieved a large bottle of Baileys and a couple of glasses from the dresser in the dining room. In the kitchen, I poured two generous measures then opened the freezer. As I pulled open the drawer that usually contained the ice cube trays, I frowned. What the hell was that? I lifted the packet out of the drawer, brushed a few flakes of ice off it, and stared at the item in my hand: a three-pack of M&S black knickers.

  Chapter 2

  Sam

  Three years ago – 21st May

  I sat in my car on Sea View Drive, staring out the windscreen at the waves rolling onto North Beach at the bottom of the cliff. Surfers bobbed on the swell, occasionally catching a wave then wiping out – some in spectacular style – before they hit the beach. Dogs scampered across the sand chasing balls, tugging at pieces of seaweed or leaping into rock pools.

  The evening was warm with a gentle breeze, perfect for a romantic stroll along the beach followed by a pint outside Blue Savannah, which I assume was Nicole’s plan given that she’d suggested meeting outside The Surf Shack on North Beach Corner.

  Running my hand across my freshly-shaved chin, I shook my head. Shit! I couldn’t do it. I’d told Jack I wasn’t ready and the stupid twat hadn’t listened. I picked up my mobile and called him.

  ‘Don’t tell me she hasn’t turned up,’ he said, connecting the call after the first ring.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m not there.’

  ‘You can’t be stuck in traffic. There isn’t any at this time of night.’

  ‘No, I’m not. But I’m not going. I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this.’

  ‘Sam! You can’t just not turn up.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to. I’m not a total git. I want you to call her and tell her I’m not coming.’

  ‘No can do, bro. I don’t have her number.’

  I shook my head. ‘That’s bullshit, Jack, and you know it. I was with you when she texted you with the time and place.’

  He laughed. ‘Busted! Let me ask you one question. Are you backing out because of Kirsty?’

  My stomach twisted at the mention of her name. ‘Yes,’ I muttered after a pause. ‘Because, like I said to you when you came up with this stupid blind date idea, it’s too soon.’

  ‘Too soon? Christ, Sam, it’s not like she’s dead. She’s very much alive and still shagging her way around all our colleagues.’

  ‘Thanks for the reminder.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Look, Sammy–’

  ‘Don’t call me that.’

  ‘Mum does.’

  ‘And you’re not Mum.’

  Jack laughed again. ‘Okay, Sam, what harm is there in going on one little blind date? One date. One! I’m not asking you to marry Nicole. I’m not asking you to jump into bed with her. Actually, maybe that would be a good plan. If you shag her, you might get Kirsty out of your system. I want to hear all about it, though. Remember I’m not getting any so I need to live vicariously through you.’ I swear that, most of the time, my brother acted about ten years younger than me instead of four years older. His wife, Millie, was six months pregnant and had put a ban on sex a couple of months ago citing vomiting, exhaustion, and “a general feeling of ickiness” as three pretty good reasons for abstinence. It was killing him.

  ‘Millie won’t do anything, you know,’ he continued. ‘I’m going to have to start buying pornos and locking myself in the bathroom before I explode.’

  ‘Too much information, Jack. I’m not listening.’

  ‘And I’m not cancelling your date.’

  ‘You are.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘You ARE!’

  ‘Bye, Sam.’

  ‘Don’t hang up on–’

  But he’d already disconnected. I tried to call him back but, predictably, it went straight to voicemail. Wanker. Literally. He knew that there was no way I’d stand anyone up, especially someone who worked at the same hospital as Jack and me. He also knew that I wouldn’t be able to meet her then tell her I wasn’t staying in case she thought it was because I’d taken one look at her and didn’t like what I saw.

  Cursing, I started the car and drove down Hearnshaw Hill to park in one of the spaces on the seafront. I’d get him back for this.

  I slammed the car door shut, crossed the road, and slowly made my way towards North Beach Corner. I was already late, but I couldn’t seem to make my legs move any faster.

  Why the hell had Jack brought up Kirsty? He was right, though. It was because of her. I needed more time to get over what she’d done to me… to us. I should have known what to expect, though. She’d been seeing someone else when we met at the hospital’s Christmas do. Jack had warned me that the vivacious, beautiful Nurse Kirsty Griggs had already worked her way through several of the doctors and consultants in the two years she’d been working at Whitsborough Bay General. I didn’t listen. I thought I was different. I believed her when she told me she loved me and that the others had been casual flings until the right man came along. She told me she’d had to kiss a few frogs before she found her prince. Okay, so she’d kissed a whole swamp full of frogs but who was I to judge? It wasn’t like I hadn’t had other partners.

  Just over two years we’d been together. Two exciting, passionate, amazing years. She was feisty and I was stubborn so we had some horrendous arguments where we shouted and screamed at each other but, Jesus Christ, the make-up sex was worth the angst. Her many frogs had certainly taught her a thing or two! It turns out they were still teaching her and I hadn’t a clue. If my meeting hadn’t been cancelled that February evening, I might have still been with her, completely oblivious. I don’t think that image of opening the lounge door of our rented flat to the sight of my girlfriend stark naked on all fours on our
new IKEA rug with one of the junior doctors thrusting into her from behind will ever leave me. As if that wasn’t bad enough, they didn’t see me or hear me and I caught the moment of climax in its grunting/screaming glory.

  Kirsty, all her crap, and the IKEA rug moved out that evening.

  My stomach did a somersault as I got closer to The Surf Shack. Christ, I’d do anything to avoid doing this but I wasn’t that guy. Thanks, Jack.

  I looked at my watch. Bollocks. Fifteen minutes late. Nice first impression. I scanned left and right as I approached but I couldn’t see anyone waiting on their own. Several couples and groups were seated on the metal chairs outside Blue Savannah enjoying their tea or a few drinks but there was no “tall lass with dark hair and a nice arse” to give Jack’s description of her. A dark-haired woman came into view and paused outside The Surf Shack. She wasn’t tiny but she certainly wasn’t what I’d call tall. Could she be Nicole? A toddler with an ice-cream in his hand ran up to her followed by a man, and the three of them disappeared down the steps to the beach. Not Nicole, then. The only other brunette I could see was holding a surfboard, wearing a wet suit, and standing outside The Surf Shack chatting to one of the beach lifeguards. Clearly not Nicole either. She’d obviously gone and I couldn’t blame her. I wished bloody Jack had called her when I asked so she hadn’t gone home believing she’d been stood up.

  Sighing, I leaned against the wall at the top of the steps looking out towards the twinkling sea. I pulled out my phone to ring Jack.

  ‘You’re late,’ said a woman.

  I spun round and came face to face with the brunette in the wetsuit. ‘Me?’

  ‘You are Sam, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes. Are you Nicole?’

  She smiled and her blue eyes twinkled like the sea behind me. Her shoulder-length hair was wet and slicked back, with streaks of sand in it. Her face was tanned with a spattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. She was beautiful in a very natural way; such a contrast to Kirsty who was always caked in a mountain of make-up and actually looked pretty ropey without it. ‘That’s right, although I prefer Nikki,’ she said. ‘Two Ks. No Y.’ She wrinkled her nose at me. ‘Do I have seaweed stuck to my face?’

  I realised I was staring and quickly blinked. ‘No. Sorry. How did you know it was me?’

  ‘Jack said you were the exact opposite of him in build and colouring and that you look like Chris Hemsworth. He’s right. Are you two really brothers?’

  ‘Unfortunately, yes. He takes after our mum and I look more like our dad, although I’m liking the comparison to Chris Hemsworth. You can call me Thor if you like.’

  I inwardly cringed at such a crap line but she threw her head back and laughed a loud belly laugh. ‘Thor it is! Which means I’m going to have to call your brother Loki from now on.’

  ‘He’ll hate me for that.’

  ‘Tough. So, Thor, do you surf?’

  ‘No. Thor does not surf,’ I said in a caveman-type voice. No idea where that came from. In the film, he speaks with a posh English accent!

  ‘Ever tried it?’

  ‘No. Thor’s hammer gets in the way.’

  She laughed loudly again and I found myself laughing with her.

  ‘That’s the first time I’ve heard it referred to as that,’ she giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘Seriously, though, have you ever wanted to try surfing?’

  ‘Erm…’

  ‘Well now’s your chance whether you want to or not. I know it’s not exactly a typical first-date activity but I figured that if your brother had lied about you and had set me up with a loser, at least I’d spend the evening doing something I love and it wouldn’t be completely wasted. No offence.’

  ‘Refreshingly honest,’ I said. ‘No offence taken.’

  She crossed her arms and cocked her head to one side, staring at me for a moment. ‘I will say, though, that Dr Jack isn’t in my bad books… yet. First impressions are good… apart from the incredibly rude late show of course.’

  ‘Sorry about that. I just, erm…’

  ‘You were going to bottle it. I know. Jack did call me to warn me. He said he was sure that you were too much of a gent to stand me up but wanted to warn me just in case you went against type.’

  ‘I’m sorry. It wasn’t personal.’

  ‘I know. But if you ask me, you’re better off without her.’

  ‘He told you about Kirsty?’

  ‘He did, but before you get mad at him, I already knew. I’m afraid it’s common knowledge at the hospital. If it makes you feel better, I could tell you that the junior doctor you caught her with was my boyfriend.’

  ‘You’re kidding me?’

  She stared at me for a moment, deadly serious. ‘I wish I was. We have a little boy and we were going to get married and…’ She stopped and belly laughed again. ‘Sorry. Yes, I am kidding you! Truth is, I don’t know the guy and I don’t want to. I do know Kirsty, though, and all I can say is it’s her loss. If I’d captured the heart of the Ruler of Asgard, I’m not sure I’d let him go.’ She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards The Surf Shack. ‘Come on, Thor. Let’s get you changed into something more practical for the North Sea. If you manage to stand on your board, the drinks are on me. Assuming you don’t still want to do a runner, that is.’

  I looked down at our intertwined hands and, at the moment, I knew I’d never want to do a runner. It wasn’t just a physical thing. Yes, she was beautiful, but there was something else about her that was mesmerising. Her sense of humour? Her sense of adventure? Her sense of knowing who she was and not caring if she wore no make up and had sand in her hair? Whatever it was, it had me completely hooked. Jack could get things spectacularly wrong but somehow the boy had done good. Turns out he wasn’t such a tosser after all.

  Chapter 3

  Jemma

  Present Day – 24th June

  ‘Scott! Sorry I lost you,’ I said, as the train approached Whitsborough Bay Station. ‘Bad signal. Where are you?’

  There was a pause before he said, ‘Still in Manchester.’

  My heart sank. ‘Manchester? No! Why?’ He’d assured me that his meeting would be finished at lunchtime, giving him loads of time to drive to Whitsborough Bay ready for my birthday meal that evening.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jemma. I thought we’d have been finished by lunch but they wanted to discuss a new design.’

  ‘Didn’t you tell them you had plans?’ I cringed at the whiney tone in my voice.

  ‘I know you’re disappointed but what could I do? Refuse to discuss a half a million pound business deal because it’s my girlfriend’s birthday? I’d have lost my job, Jem. And then all the nights and weekends apart would have been worth nothing.’

  He was right. He needed the work. Scott worked for a company that… well, I’m not really sure what they did. He’d told me when we met, but it had been completely over my head. Something to do with renewable energy and engineering, but that’s about as far as my understanding went. As it was a fairly small company, he had a multi-faceted role that combined design, sales and account management. It took him all over the country during the week to meet clients, and had him working most weekends at exhibitions and trade shows to generate interest and hopefully secure some business. As such, time together over the past eighteen months had been rare and precious. Scott assured me that it would only be for a couple more years, at which point they should be in a position to expand and he could focus on one role, massively reducing his travel.

  ‘I know it’s not your fault,’ I assured him. ‘I’m just dying to see you, and I was excited about finally being able to introduce you to Karen.’ Scott had been home with me twice before so he’d met Mum and Sean, but my bestie had been away for the weekend both times. Every time she’d been down to London to visit me, it seemed to coincide with a weekend that Scott was working a
nd I hated it that my bestie and my boyfriend had never met; not even in the virtual world because Scott refused to engage with social media, saying life was too short to spend it looking at pictures of what people had eaten for lunch.

  ‘I’ll still get to meet her,’ he said. ‘I’ll probably be there at about nine to half past.’ I could hear voices in the background and the clinking of mugs. ‘Sorry, Jemma. Coffee break’s over. Have an amazing meal and I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you only.’

  ‘I love you always.’

  I spotted Karen immediately. Even if it hadn’t been for the large metallic helium balloons in the shape of the number 28, it was impossible to miss the short flared summer dress adorned with large yellow and turquoise flowers. Living in lycra leggings, t-shirts and trainers for her job as co-owner of Bay Fitness – a bootcamp and personal training business she ran with her fiancé, Ryan, and a friend of theirs – she tended to favour bold patterns and bright colours when she wasn’t working.

  ‘Happy birthday!’ she squealed.

  I braced myself for one of her power-hugs that could knock you off your feet if you weren’t ready for them. Sure enough, she hurled herself at me. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  ‘I’ve missed you too.’

  ‘The car’s outside and I’m free all afternoon to do whatever you want. What’s the plan, Jemma Browne with an ‘e’ on the end?’

  I laughed at our little saying. We’d become friends when we met at senior school and united over both having colours for surnames spelt with an ‘e’ on the end; something which our fellow students and even our teachers seemed to struggle to get their heads around.

  ‘Back to Mum’s so I can get changed, Karen Greene with an ‘e’ on the end,’ I said. ‘Maybe a drink in The White Horse? Mum and Sean should be home at about four.’

  We walked towards the car park. Mum had wanted to meet me but Sean and a few of his classmates had won the regional heats in a Year 6 science project and there was a presentation to which parents were invited. Since Dad died three years ago, Mum had gone out of her way to try to be there for Sean at anything like this, trying to make up for him only having one parent. I didn’t like to point out that Sean was used to only having one parent around given Dad’s lack of interest when he’d been alive.