The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper(77)

In the dining room the farmhouse kitchen table had been laid with a buffet—sausage rolls, crisps, grapes, sandwiches and salad. A shiny seventieth birthday banner was taped across the wall. On his chair sat a small pile of cards and presents.

“Happy birthday, Arthur.” Bernadette planted a kiss on his cheek. “Are you going to open your pressies?”

“I’ll do it later.” He always felt embarrassed opening gifts in front of others, having to act out delight or surprise. He liked to peel off the paper slowly and consider the contents. “Did you do all this?”

She smiled. “Some of it. Dan and Lucy have been great, too. Your neighbor Terry offered to look after the red-haired kids while their parents went to the cinema, so they joined in, too.”

“But...” Arthur hesitated. “Your appointment at the hospital... You left me a message. What happened?”

“Tsk. Let’s talk about it later. It’s your day.”

“This is important. I want more than anything to hear that you’re okay.”

Bernadette patted his arm. “I’m okay, Arthur. The results were fine. The lump was benign. It’s been such a worry so it’s been good to be busy, helping to plan this surprise for you. Lucy called me. She called all of us.”

Arthur grinned.

“Nathan told me that he confided in you,” Bernadette said. “He read my hospital appointments so I’m glad he had you to speak to. Anyway. Yes, I am fine.”

“Oh, God.” The relief he felt was immense. It made his knees wobble and his throat constrict. He stretched out his arms, circled them around her and held her close. “I am so glad you’re okay.” She felt soft and warm and she smelled of violets.

“Me, too.” Her voice trembled a little. “Me, too.”

The doorbell rang and Lucy shouted out, “I’ll get it!”

A few seconds later and the kitchen door opened. “Hey, put my mum down, Tiger Man,” Nathan said.

Arthur shot his hands to his sides but he saw that Nathan was laughing.

He’d had his hair cropped short, which displayed his china-blue eyes. He was holding something covered with foil in his outstretched hands. “For you.”

“Me?” Arthur took it from him. He removed the foil. Underneath sat a chocolate cake so beautiful it looked like it came from an exclusive shop. It was covered in shiny icing and had piped icing words saying, Happy 65th Birthday, Arthur.

“I made it,” Nathan said. “Me and Mum are back on track. We’ve talked. She’s happy that I want to bake. Has she told you that her results are clear?”

“Yes. I am so pleased for you both. And just look at this cake.” He would not tell the boy that he was seventy, not sixty-five. “That’s incredible. It looks delicious.”

Arthur was almost knocked off his feet by the two red-haired kids from over the road. One bashed into his elbow. “Oi, you two,” Nathan said as he took the cake and set it down. “Watch what you’re doing and put your socks and shoes on.”

The two kids stopped and immediately did what they were told. “They just need someone to pay attention to them,” Nathan said. “Terry’s a saint for looking after them.”

Lucy appeared. “Dad? We want to show you something. It’s your present.”

“I have a pile of presents here. I’ve not opened them yet.”

“It’s your big one from me and Dan. It’s in the front room.” She pushed open the door.

Arthur shook his head. “You shouldn’t have bothered,” he said, but he followed her in.

He was confronted by an explosion of color, of people. Each wall was covered with photographs. They had been neatly stuck in rows and columns like paint swatch colors. But as he stepped closer, faces came into view. His face, Miriam’s, Dan’s, Lucy’s. “What is this?” he said.

“This is your life, Dad,” Lucy said. “You wouldn’t look inside the pink-and-white-striped box so I’ve brought the photos to you. I want you to take a close look. I want you to study these photos and remember what a fantastic life you had with Mum.”

“But there are things you don’t know. Things that I’ve found out...”

“Whatever those things are, they don’t change what you had together. You had many years of happiness. You’ve become obsessed with the past, Dad. You’re hooked on finding out about a time you weren’t in Mum’s life. And you have built that time up in your head and heart to be bigger and brighter and better than what you and Mum had together.”

Arthur turned on the spot. There were hundreds of images of him and Miriam, together.

“Look at your life. Look at how Mum is smiling, how you are smiling. You were made for each other. You were happy. And there may not have been tigers or dreadful poems, or shopping in Paris. You might not have traveled to exotic climes, but you had an entire life together. Look at it and cherish it.”

The photos looked like tiny windows in a sprawling tower block, each giving him a glimpse to a past time. Lucy and Dan had pinned them in chronological order, so the ones nearest the door on his left-hand side were black-and-white—the time when he and Miriam had met. He remembered seeing her for the first time, strolling into the butcher’s shop with her huge basket swinging from the crook of her arm. He could even recall what was in that basket—a string of pork sausages in paper sat on top of a block of butter. He remembered that the wicker was frayed and broken. He slowly circled the room gazing, studying the photographs, seeing his life played out before his eyes.