Before I Do(59)

“Thank you,” said Audrey, wishing the planet had chosen this moment to spontaneously combust and erase this conversation from the solar system. “I’d better go. I’ll try and work on lightening my soul.” She squeezed Granny Parker’s hand as she stood up. “Can I ask, what was it about Grandpa Joe that made you know you wanted to marry him?”

Granny Parker looked thoughtful for a moment.

“It was the way he looked after his animals. He had such care for every one. I remember he had this heifer recovering from a twisted stomach, and he slept two nights in the barn with her, talking to her, rubbing her belly. He canceled tea with me to sit with her. That’s when I knew he was the one.” Audrey smiled at this. “You follow your gut when it comes to love, or the cow’s gut, in my case.” Granny Parker gave her a serious, searching look, but then returned to the book she was reading.

“Thank you. I’ll see you in the church, then.”

“I hope so, Audrey, I hope so.” Then she gave a little cough, which sounded to Audrey like her cue to leave.





33


Three Years Before I Do



Josh called. Just as he said he would, the morning after Ben and Dee’s wedding. Not a text or a WhatsApp; he picked up the phone and called her, and they arranged to have dinner the following Saturday. Josh took her to an Italian restaurant in Soho. He wore the jeans she had picked out for him all those months before and a perfectly ironed blue shirt.

“So, Audrey, tell me more about yourself, your work, your family,” Josh said, putting down the menu. There was none of the playful banter or confident control he’d shown at the wedding—he looked nervous.

“What is this, a job interview?” Audrey teased him. “Shall I tell you my strengths and weaknesses, an example of how I respond under pressure?”

Josh dipped his head and then she saw a red flush escape from his shirt and run up his neck.

“I’m joking, Josh, sorry. I thought you were down with the teasing.”

“No, I am, I . . . I just want to know more about you. Sorry if that sounded like a job interview.”

“I like interviews, I’ve been to enough of them,” she said brightly, worrying she might have been too harsh, that she was too prickly with people. “I think it’s a sensitive topic for me, because I’ve moved around a lot, I haven’t stuck to anything. Now I feel about five years behind everyone else in terms of having my life sorted.”

“I don’t think anyone’s as sorted as you might think,” Josh said, refilling her water glass. “And you’ve stuck to photography, haven’t you? What started your love of cameras?”

As she looked across the table at Josh, an image of Fred came unbidden into her mind. She hadn’t thought about Fred for months, and yet now, in this restaurant, she had a perfect image of him: his scruffy clothes; his wild, gesticulating manner; his enthusiasm about the camera slung around his neck. Josh was calm, reserved almost—an entirely different kind of man.

“Someone I knew was into it. They showed me what they loved about it, and it inspired me to buy a camera. When I went traveling a couple of years ago, I took it with me and taught myself how to use it. I’ve found it hard to make a living out of it, though. Maybe I just haven’t found my niche.”

“Well, I think it’s amazing that you’re working all these other jobs so you can do what you love.”

Was that what she was doing? Was photography really what she loved?

The waiter interrupted her thoughts, and Josh engaged him in conversation. After they ordered food, she asked, “So, what did you study?” She felt keen to deflect the conversation away from the topic of her career.

“Politics and economics,” he said.

“Of course you did. Dr. Sensible, with the degree from Cambridge and the proper job.” Audrey was teasing him again, but something about his expression made her feel he didn’t want to be teased about this.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not a bad thing.”

“My parents didn’t have a lot of money when I was growing up,” he said. “My dad’s a ‘self-made man.’?” Audrey noted the air quotes. “He invests in risky ventures. It’s highs and lows, and when my sister and I were little, there was a run of lows. We lost the farm that had been in our family for generations.”

“That must have been difficult.”

Josh gave a single nod. “I remember being ten, needing new shoes because my feet were growing so fast. We went to the shoe shop, and my mum’s card didn’t work. She was so embarrassed, bustled my sister and me out of the shop, saying we’d have to make do. She cut out the toes of my old shoes and covered them with black masking tape, saying it was ‘just until Dad gets the cards sorted.’ I wore those shoes for a whole term. You can imagine how the other kids reacted. I swore to myself then that when I grew up, I’d get a well-paid, reliable job, whatever that was, so that my kids would always have shoes that fit them.”

“Oh, Josh, that’s heartbreaking,” Audrey said, leaning over to put her hand over his on the table.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound like such a sob story.”

“Do you tell that story on every date to make women fall a little bit in love with you?” She gave him a sly grin. Neither of them moved their hands from the table.