Nic’s words made Lou share her daughter’s confidence that everything would work out.
‘You say that …’
‘I know that,’ Lou said firmly. ‘She’s always loved looking after things so perhaps having a baby … Let’s see.’
‘Do you remember when she rescued that pigeon with a broken wing? She was always such a softie.’ Hooker smiled at the memory.
Lou’s recollection was less of the softie and more of the pigeon shit that had covered the living room when the bird had escaped its cardboard box. Nor had she forgotten the hours that it had taken to clear up the room to Hooker’s satisfaction, but without his help. Oddly, Nic too had found something urgent to do. But she was glad that Hooker’s mood was changing as the whisky took hold. ‘And Ripper, her hamster whose hair fell out.’ She smiled too, remembering how Nic had lavished affection and mite dust on the poor little wrinkled, bald creature until it had finally died.
As they began to swap reminiscences, their differences were put to one side. Whatever happened between them in the future, these memories would always be theirs alone. Their shared family experiences interested no one else in the world but them.
Once she leaned over and touched his arm. Still talking, he covered her hand with his just before she swiftly removed it. But one memory led on to the next and, as they travelled back in time, Lou began to recognise the Hooker she had once fallen for, the man who could make her laugh. She checked herself. Perhaps she should go home. But, memories and tongues loosened by alcohol, the two of them stayed where they were in the warmth of the fire, drinking and reminiscing, till the chairs were being put on the tables around them. By then she was aware of how pleasantly hazy the world seemed.
Reluctantly they dragged themselves out into the night air. Feeling definitely the worse for wear although triumph ant that Hooker had eventually taken on board and almost accepted Nic’s news, Lou stepped forward to give her ex an affectionate peck farewell. Slightly surprised at herself, she overbalanced, righting herself with one foot in the gutter, her hand on his chest. ‘Whoops. Shouldn’t have mixed my drinks. Sorry.’ She giggled and removed her hand as if it was burned.
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