Chapter 10

The next day, Tuesday, I got a call from ... Philippa. Could she come and stay for a few days?

"Of course, petal. A few days, a week, a month ... whatever you like. I told you, you'll always be welcome here, Pip."

"Thanks. Only, I had a talk with Sam this morning. He's not happy. I don't think he'll make trouble – he's not the sort, I don't think – but ... I just don't want to be alone in the house. Don't let me cramp your style, though."

I continued to work at the computer and made good progress. Philippa came in; when I hugged her, she clung rather longer than for a 'hello I'm here' greeting and her eyes were bright with tears.

"I feel bad about breaking up with Sam – he looked awful. I told him I liked him, and wanted to be his friend, but not more."

"You've been straight with him, but it's never easy when you know you're going to hurt someone you like. He'll get over it, though it'll be a blow to his confidence."

"Is that a 'man thing' too?"

"Yes, Petal, it is. I'd guess you were his first serious girlfriend. Hopefully, he'll have learned something from being with you and find it easier to approach another girl for a date."

I looked at the time, and put some potatoes in the oven to bake. Chilli sounded like a good idea and I fetched mince out of the freezer, rounded up onions and so on. I was careful with the chilli powder, though. I didn't mind spicy food, but I was aware Helen was not so keen.

It was rather later that I remembered that I hadn't checked my email in-box since the morning. The only item was from Linda, asking if I could invigilate Thursday morning. Not a problem.

Helen came in, and suddenly the world was a better place. We hugged, but then Philippa came and led her mother into the front room. I left them to it.

I served up potatoes and chilli and called the girls into the kitchen. We ate, then Helen played for us, a wide range from a little jazz, popular music, rag, through to baroque. I was surprised – perhaps I shouldn't have been – that Philippa pulled the bean-bag to in front of me and adopted Helen's position, leaning against my legs. I drifted on the music, somehow, and surfaced to realise I was stroking her hair. Helen finished playing, looked round, caught my eye and raised an eyebrow ... that is pretty effective...

She came over to us. "Pip, move over, and we can cuddle and lean against Ted; he can stroke both of us – he's got two hands, after all."

We sat like that until it was time for bed. It was ... I don't like to use that overworked word 'nice' ... it was comfortable, and comforting. I think that's what Philippa needed.

"Do you mind if I sit up and play some CDs?" she asked, as her mother and I headed upstairs.

"Help yourself," I said, "just keep the volume down!"

A little later, I heard Russell Watson singing, but the volume was then reduced. I could still hear it, but only by concentrating.

"You weren't thinking what you were doing, were you?" Helen asked as we cuddled.

"No," I admitted, "my hands were on automatic pilot. You know, I love your playing; had you thought of taking it more seriously?"

"I do take it seriously!"

"I didn't mean that you didn't, just that ... well, you're good. I can't really tell how good, I don't know enough about it, but are there qualifications you could get? Could you teach piano? Maybe play professionally?"

"I'm grade eight piano, with the Royal Schools of Music, but I was always too shy to play in public, and my teacher didn't think I had what it took to be a professional musician."

"Well ... I want you to think about this ... it's about what you want, not about pleasing me or ... whatever, but ... when we're married, you don't have to work unless you want to. You could go back to Uni – get your degree," there was a sharp intake of breath, "or do something with your music; be a homebody, do some invigilating, perhaps with me – Linda quite likes couples working together..."

"Ted, I've always regretted not getting my degree. It'd be hard getting back into it, but I'd love to, if you really don't mind."

She kissed me then, and we were soon so involved I stopped thinking of the future, or Philippa and possible tensions in the house, or anything except the lovely, warm, fragrant bundle of femininity in my arms.

Wednesday, I got down to making some phone calls. One that I'd been putting off was to Katherine's younger brother, Douglas. I can't say we'd been really close, but he was nearer my age than Katherine's and we'd got on quite well. I didn't know what to expect. What I got was genuine, sincere congratulations.

"You made my sister very happy, Ted, and no-one could have done more for her. I'm glad you've found someone, and I hope you're very happy together."

"Thanks, Doug, I really appreciate that. Would you ... I mean ... would you be willing to stand as my best man?"

"I would consider it both a privilege and a pleasure, and I'm delighted you asked."

I emailed Linda with the date, time and place, and began jotting down ideas for music; I then thought of flowers. And what about clothes? I'd never worn 'top hat and tails', not even when I married Katherine. What would Helen like?

So we had a family conference that evening. I opened the 'floor' for comments.

"I don't want a formal dress that I'll only wear once," Helen declared. "We could hire stuff, but I'd rather have a dress I could wear, say, to a concert, and you could get a dark suit if you don't want to wear the one you've got. Pip's agreed to attend me, and she'll have something that complements my outfit. Who's your best man?"

"I've asked Douglas," I said, "he's Katherine's younger brother, and the nearest thing I've got to family, apart from you two. Oh, and I thought about flowers this morning, and music."

"Pip and I will think about flowers," Helen said, "and we won't overdo it. What about a reception?"

"We could book something at the Rutland," I suggested. That's a hotel quite close to St. Mark's church, by the way. "I don't think a big deal is appropriate. I'll invite Linda, since she said she'd like to come to the wedding."

"There might be one or two from work that'd like to come," Helen said, "we get on quite well. Pip?"

"One or two friends," she said. "I would have invited Sam ... but I don't want to raise his hopes and then put him down again."

"Music," Helen said. "There's a choir, and they're okay, but let's keep it simple. Two hymns; 'Love Divine' to Blaenwern, and 'Amazing Grace', perhaps. 'Wedding day at Troldhaugen', and maybe 'The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba'." She smiled at me then and added, "you certainly make me feel like a queen. Maybe the choir would tackle 'Jesu, joy of man's desiring."