I had grown weary of endless outings, fleeting flings, and ceaseless dates. When I met Emilybright, witty, and sensibleI felt at last I had found the right one. We strolled to a tea room, listened to street buskers, talked about my recent promotion and her love for contemporary verse, and when we discovered we both liked a sprig of rosemary in our Waldorf salad, we knew we ought to press on.
The next step in our swiftmoving romance was a dinner at Emilys flat in Camden. I donned my best shirt, shaved, memorised a few odd verses from one of her favourite poets, bought a bunch of roses and a bottle of red. I set off, buoyant and completely relaxed, certain the evening would be a triumph. My confidence could have made any cat, prowling its bowl fifteen times a day, jealous. Nothing was left to chanceexcept the line, Good evening, Im Stephen. My mums in the shower, come on in.
At the door a squarejawed, boyish face looked down at me. The owner of that face stretched out a hand that could have easily wrapped around my head. At first I thought Id the wrong address, but when Stephen let out a loud, muffled sneezepinching his nose just as Emily always didany doubt vanished. My mood began to sink, the wine soured, the roses wilted.
Inside, Stephens sneakers caught my eye. I could have slipped them onto my own shoes and they would still have seemed a size too big. Emily, barely taller than a childs waist, stood there, and I thought how a woman never learns to treat gold the way a man doeshand a ring and, ten years on, hold a wedding band. I drifted toward the kitchen, where the table was set and Stephen was swapping curtains without a ladder.
Five minutes and Ill be out! a voice called from the shower.
After five rounds of five minutes each, the door finally opened and Emily emerged in a flowing evening dress, makeup luminous on her cheek. Seeing my sour expression, she instantly grasped the cause, and the flutter in my chest drained away, taking the romance with it. She placed plates before us, poured the wine herself, and began to eat without waiting for me.
Why didnt you say you had a child? I blurted, feeling cheated.
Scared of the trailer? Emily replied with a rueful smile.
Its not a trailerits a whole train.
The big one, right? Hes from the northern village, tougher than a pit bull, used to wrestle bears with bare hands.
And where is he now? I swallowed, the words catching.
Out on a tour with that bear. He left us for the big stage. Sometimes he writes letters, though the handwriting looks like the bear himself wrote themno conscience there.
How old is he? I asked, nodding toward the wall.
Fourteen, just got his passport.
Strong, I suppose?
Very funny.
We ate in silence; conversation just didnt stick.
More meat? I offered.
Like it?
Honestly, Ive never tasted anything better. What is it?
Venison. Stephen cooks it.
Impressive. He must have talent.
It ran in the family, along with an ancient cookbook, a set of knives, some fishing rods, a boat, and a pile of nonsense hes tinkered with.
A boat? I choked on my words.
Yes, stored in the basementwell, sometimes its there. The son is an avid angler.
Emilys phone buzzed; she excused herself to answer.
Time to head home, I thought. There was nothing left for me there.
Emily, could you do me a favour? she returned, looking flustered. Theres been an accident at work. Could you keep Stephen for a couple of hours?
Me? With Stephen? Why?
Hes underage; who knows what could happen. People are prowling the neighbourhood
Youre afraid hell be snatched?
Listen, Emily softened, Ill pay you for the lost evening and for babysitting, then I wont call again. Deal?
What am I supposed to do with him?
Just talk about football or whatever men do. Ive got to run.
I hadnt managed a reply before Emily was out the door in a hurry. I drained the last charge from my phone, finished the meat, emptied the wine, and waited for her return that never came.
When I reached Stephens bedroom, familiar sounds drifted from behind the door. No way, I muttered and knocked.
Open.
I pushed the door gently and entered the playroom. The first thing that struck me was a large wooden target studded with knives and arrowsno holes in the wall, the arrows always hit their mark. A vinyl record player sat on the table, lowvolume Iron Maiden crackling from a speaker; Id always loved the band. Stephen sat in a corner, mending his fishing line. On the shelves were trophies, a punching bag hung from the ceiling, and a brandnew gaming console lay beside the telly.
Your mum does well by you, I said, a hint of envy in my voice. It was the sort of room any teenager would dream of.
I work in the summer, Stephen replied, and a pang of shame rose in me. I imagined Emily hunting for an endless purse for her endless child, while Stephen seemed perfectly selfsufficient.
Do you have a charger? I asked, holding up my phone.
Its by the railway, Stephen pointed.
By the railway? I stammered, disbelief in my tone, until I turned and saw a genuine railyard, its tracks sprawling like veins. I could hardly breathe.
You built it yourself? I whispered, not wanting to ruin the magic.
Yep. I keep buying bits, want to add a second tier and a few bridges. A new box of rails arrived, but I cant get my hands on it yet.
Heat rose in my head and chest.
Can I fire up the train? I asked.
One minute, he said, setting his line aside, standing tall and crossing the room in a single stride.
Emily returned an hour later, certain Id already fled, and rushed straight to Stephens room, where she found us constructing the miniature railway. At first glance it was impossible to tell which man was older.
Colin, you should be going home, she whispered.
Right Oh! I leapt up. What time is it?
Its halfpast ten, Emily yawned, exhausted. I have another emergency at work tomorrow, so I need to sleep.
She walked me to the door, planted a kiss on my cheek, and handed me a few notes.
I dont take money from women, I said, looking at her with a grimace.
Fine. Thanks for watching my trailer.
I gave a short smile and left.
A few days later I called, Hey, could I drop by again?
My jobs a mess right nowno time for relationships, and after our last meeting
Could I still see Stephen?
Stephen? Emily sounded puzzled.
Yes, maybe keep an eye on him?
Im not sure Ill have to ask him.
Ive already texted him. Hes fine. I bought a new game for his Xbox, well have a quiet evening, and you can get on with your own things.
Alright, come tonight.
That evening I arrived in a completely different guise. No shirt, no perfume, no wine, no brooding looksjust a plain black tee with my favourite bands logo, a backpack stuffed with crisps and soda, and a boyish grin.
Just keep it down, Emily warned, already in a bathrobe and a face mask, the scent of onions clinging to her breath. Ive got a twohour video call soon.
I nodded and slipped into the playroom.
Emily barely managed to pry Stephen and me apart as they argued fiercely about Balabanov and Guy Ritchie, each defending his favourite director. They were about to settle on a sixhour film marathon when Emily intervened, declaring both were victims of bad taste, and escorted me out.
Dont forget the bait for Saturday! Stephen shouted from the room.
The bait? Emily asked me, eyebrows raised.
Were going for pike. I told Stephen theres a shop with topnotch bait. I havent been fishing in ages.
You lot are fast friends. Isnt there time for a bit with me?
Come on, bring the sandwiches.
Fine, Ive got nothing else to do. Go on with your fishing, Emily smiled, ushering me out. Work always devours my time anyway. At least the kid gets something to do.
A month passed. Emily threw herself into her career, romance slipping from her grasp. Stephen and I, however, used the time productively: we finished the railway, caught crabs, brewed homebrewed ale from an old family recipe Stephen inherited, and he taught me how to navigate the woods. I, in turn, showed him the basics of flirting and helped him ask a classmate out. Everything ran smoothly until one night a knock at the door sent plaster from the ceiling scattering.
Emily opened it to a wave of bearmeat scent. On the doorstep stood her exhusband, a hulking man, and Stephens father.
Ive realised everything, he declared, kneeling despite his size. My son and I are tired, we want a quiet life. Ive saved enough; well take you both back to the country. Youll quit your job. Well go fishing and hunting together.
Ha! Youre a comedian. Ten years and you finally see the light. Your bears also decided to come back to the family?
No Actually hes signed a deal with a film studio behind my back, the husband muttered.
So thats it, Emily crossed her arms. You were just left standing.
It doesnt matter! The point is I now
He was cut off as Colin entered, wearing Emilys own football shirt, the one Id swapped for my own.
Emily, I took your shirt; mine got stained while Stephen and I were repainting the train
Lord, does anyone finish a sentence in this flat? she asked, eyes flicking between the two men.
Whats that? the husband asked, his massive fist aimed at my head.
Its its Emily stammered, unsure what to do.
Suddenly Stephen burst from his room, shoved his fathers arm against the wall, and the man let out a howl.
Its a trailer! Stephen hissed.
Stephen! Son! Its me, your father! What trailer? the man gasped, writhing in pain.
Its the trailer that helps us move everything you left behind, Stephen said. But you never actually left anything for us.
Realising the absurdity, the father slumped, chuckling. Alright, alright, call a break, he grunted, releasing his grip.
Youre a good lad. Looks like youve got the stamina for a boar hunt, he said, rubbing his arm. Maybe tomorrow I could join you and the boy for a hunt? Talk about lost time? Im a father, after all.
Emily looked from her exhusband to Colin, at a loss for words.
Yes, I understand, Colin said, gathering his coat.
Sorry
The next morning the father and son left at dawn, and Stephen returned alone late that night.
Wheres my dad? Emily asked, flustered.
Hes gone, he replied, slipping off his shoes.
What do you mean gone? Just up and left?
Not exactly, Stephen shrugged. He took the boar, loaded it into the trailer and drove off to train it. Found a new partner for performances, took me to the city and left.
Oh, Im such a fool, Emily slammed her forehead. I should call Colin. She reached for her phone.
No need, Stephen said. I just said goodbye. He drove me home. He promised to drop by tomorrow.
How does he know where to pick me up?
He said hed been watching us, making sure we were all right. He also mentioned hes stuck to us now, unlikely to ever be untied.
And with that, the memory of that chaotic summer lingered, a tale of missteps, railways, and the strange ways life can hitch a trailer to you.
