I was exhausted by endless flings, onenight stand after onenight stand, and an unending parade of dates. So when I met the bright, witty, and clever Emily, I thought Id finally found the right one. We went to a café in CoventGarden, listened to buskers on the corner, chatted about my recent promotion and her love of contemporary poetry, and when we discovered we both liked eggmayo salad with apples, we both knew we should keep going.
The next step in our fastmoving romance was Emilys flat in Shoreditch, where she invited me over for dinner. I put on my best shirt, gave myself a clean shave, memorised a few odd verses from one of Emilys favourite poets, and bought a bunch of roses and a bottle of red wine.
I walked to her place feeling buoyant and completely at ease. I was certain the evening would be a blast. My confidence could have made any catone that circles its bowl fifteen times a dayenvious. The night was still young, but everything had already been planned down to the last detail, except for the line: Good evening, Im Stan. Moms in the shower, come on in.
I paused. A squarejawed, boyish face stared down at me. The owner of that face stretched out a hand that could easily engulf my whole head.
At first I wondered if Id knocked on the wrong door, but when Stan let out a loud, ridiculous sneezemouth shut, fingers pinching his nose, just like Emily doesI knew I was in the right place. My mood began to dip, the wine tasted sour, the roses wilted.
I stepped inside and, seeing Stans trainers, I gasped. They were so oversized I could have slipped my shoes straight into them and still have room to grow.
Emily was barely taller than her son, a lanky lad who seemed to be about my waist. I thought it a shame that women dont know how to handle gold the way men do. I imagined giving her a ring now and, ten years later, having a wedding bandan investment, really. I drifted into the kitchen where the table was already set and Stan was adjusting the curtains without a stool.
Just five minutes, Im out of the shower! he shouted from the bathroom.
After what felt like five rounds of five minutes, the door finally opened and Emily emerged, wrapped in a sleek evening dress, her makeup glowing. She spotted my sour expression, instantly understood what was wrong, and the nervous excitement in the room melted away.
She set the plates down for both of us without a word, poured the wine, and started eating before I could even sit.
Why didnt you tell me you had a child? I blurted, feeling cheated.
Scared of the trailer? Emily chuckled, a hint of sadness in her smile.
Its not a trailerits a whole train.
Big, huh? Its his dads old work. He grew up in a remote Yorkshire village, tougher than most. He once wrestled a bear with his bare hands.
So where is he now? I swallowed, my throat tightening.
Out on a gig. Hes touring with that same bear, left us for a big stage. Sometimes he writes letters, but the handwriting looks like the bearsbig and clumsy.
How old is he? I gestured toward the wall.
Fourteen. Just got his passport.
Strong?
Very funny.
We ate in silence after that. The conversation just didnt click.
More meat? I asked, sliding my plate.
Like it?
Honestly, Ive never tasted anything better. What is this?
Venison. Stan cooks it.
Impressive, hes got talent.
It ran in the family, along with an ancient cookbook, a set of knives, some fishing rods, a boat, and a bunch of other junk hes hoarded.
A boat? I gulped.
Its stored down in the cellar. Sometimes its there, sometimes its not. The boys an avid angler.
Emilys phone buzzed, and she excused herself to answer. I thought, *Time to head home.* There wasnt much left for me to do.
Hey, Charlie, Ive got a favor, Emily returned, looking flustered. Theres been an accident at work. Could you look after Stan for a couple of hours?
Me? With Stan? Why?
Hes underage, you never know what could happen. People are wandering the flats right now
Youre worried someonell snatch him?
Listen, she changed tone, 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 mantoman, have a chat, and Ill be off.
I didnt get a chance to answer before Emily was out the door, her bag slung over her shoulder. I sat in the kitchen, drained my phone, finished the meat, and drained the wine while waiting for her return. When I reached Stans door, I heard familiar sounds from behind it.
No way, I thought, and knocked.
The doors open, a voice called.
I pushed the door gently and entered the childrens room. The first thing that caught my eye was a large wooden target studded with knives and arrows. No holes in the wallStans aim was always true. On the table sat a vinyl record player, and from a speaker a lowvolume Iron Maiden track playedone of my favourite bands. Stan lounged in a corner, tinkering with fishing gear.
I kept looking around. On a shelf were trophies, a boxing bag hung from the ceiling, and a brandnew gaming console sat beside the TV.
Your mum does a decent job keeping you fed, I muttered, halfjealous. Any teenager would have dreamed of a room like this.
I’m working the summer shift, Stan replied, and I felt a pang of embarrassment. I imagined Emily frantically searching for an endless purse for her endless kid, while Stan seemed perfectly selfsufficient.
Got a charger for my phone? I asked, holding up my device.
Its near the railway, he said, pointing.
The railway? I repeated, eyes wide, then turned to see a fullscale train set sprawling across the floor. My breath caught.
You built it yourself? I whispered, not wanting to break the spell.
Yeah. Im adding bits and pieces, planning a second tier and a few bridges. A new box of rails arrived, but I cant get my hands on them yet.
A heat rose in my chest.
Can I give it a spin? I asked Stan.
One minute, he said, setting aside his gear, standing tall, and crossing the room in a single stride.
***
Emily came back about an hour later. She was sure Id already left, and her first move was to dash into the boys room, catching the two of us assembling the railway. It was hard to tell which man was older at a glance.
Charlie, you should be heading home, Emily whispered.
Uhh right, I jumped up. What time is it?
Its half past ten, she yawned, exhausted. I have to be at the site first thing tomorrow, so I need my sleep.
She walked me to the door, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and handed me a few notes.
I dont take money from women, I said, looking at her with a sour expression.
Alright, thanks for looking after my trailer, she replied.
I gave a short smile and left.
***
A few days later I called.
Hey, can I come over again?
My works swampedno time for relationships. Our last meeting
Can I still drop by Stans place?
Stan? Emily sounded puzzled.
Yeah, maybe I could keep an eye on the kid.
Im not sure Ill have to ask him.
I already texted him. Hes fine with it. I got a new game for his Xbox, well be quiet, and you can do your thing.
Alright, Ill be there tonight.
That evening I turned up in a completely different outfit: no shirt, no perfume, no wine, no pretentious glances. I wore a plain black tee with my favourite bands logo, a backpack stuffed with crisps and soda, and a goofy, boyish grin.
Just be quietIve got a twohour video call coming up, Emily greeted me in a housecoat, a fabric mask covering her face and the smell of onions on her breath.
I nodded and slipped into the childrens room.
Later that night Emily struggled to pull Stan and me apart as we argued fiercely about Balabanov versus Guy Ritchie. Both defended their viewpoints with the fervour of cinema fans, ready to launch a sixhour film marathon, until Emily finally convinced them they were both victims of bad taste and ushered me out.
Dont forget the bait for Saturday! Stan shouted from the room.
Bait? Emily shot me a look.
Were going for pike. I told Stan theres a shop that sells topnotch bait. I havent fished in ages.
So youre mates, then? Not interested in spending time with me?
You can come, slice the sandwiches.
Fine, Ive got nothing else to do. Go on, enjoy your fishing, Emily smiled, pushing me out. Work always eats up my time anyway. At least the kid gets something to do.
***
A month passed. Emily threw herself into her job, romance was the last thing on her mind. Meanwhile Stan and I used the time productively: we finished the railway, fetched crabs, brewed a batch of homemade ale from an old family recipe Stan inherited. He taught me how to navigate the woods, and I gave him a crash course in flirting, helping him ask a girl from his class out. Everything went smoothly until one evening a knock at the door sent light fixtures crashing from the stretch ceiling.
Emily opened it, and a wave of bear meat scent hit her. On the doorstep stood her exhusband, Stans father.
Ive finally realised, he said, kneeling. Even kneeling, he towered over Emily. Potash and I are tired, we want a quiet family life. Ive saved enough money, Ill take you and Stan back to our village. Youll quit your job. Well go fishing and hunting together.
Ha! Youre a joker. Ten years gone by and you finally get it. Your bear also wants to rejoin the family?
No Actually I signed a contract with a film studio behind my back, the husband muttered.
So thats the point, Emily crossed her arms. You just got dumped.
It doesnt matter! The main thing is I now
He was cut off as I stepped into the hallway wearing Emilys Tshirt, which Id borrowed after staining my own.
Emily, I took your shirt because Id ruined mine while we were repainting the model train with Stan
Someone finish a sentence in this flat? Emily asked, glancing between the two men.
Whos that? the husband demanded, his huge fist pointing at me.
Its its Emily stammered, unsure what to do.
Stan burst from the room and, in a swift motion, slammed his fathers arm against the wall, making him howl.
Its a trailer! Stan hissed.
Stan! Son! Its me, dad! What trailer? the man rasped, wincing.
Its the regular trailer that helps us move everything you left behind, Stan said.
But I never left anything, his father replied, finally understanding his words.
Charlie and Emily huddled in a corner, watching the giants clash.
Alright, break, the father roared, and Stan finally released his grip.
Youre doing well, lad. Looks like youre ready for a boar hunt, the man massaged his hand. I propose we go tomorrow, just the two of us, talk about lost time. Im a father, not some stranger.
Emily stared between her exhusband and me, at a loss for words.
Yes, I get it, I nodded and stood to leave.
Sorry
***
The next morning the father and son left early, and Stan returned home late that night, alone.
Wheres dad? Emily asked, annoyed.
He left, he said, slipping off his boots.
He just left? Like that?
Not exactly, Stan shook his head. He took the boar in the trailer, drove off to train it. Found a new partner for shows, dropped me off in town and left.
Stupid me, Emily muttered, slapping her forehead. I should call you, Charlie
No need, I just said goodbye. He drove me home. He promised to drop by tomorrow.
So you left your phone at his place! How did he know where to pick you up?
He told me hed keep an eye on us, make sure were alright.
And he really meant that?
Yes. And hes practically attached himself to us now, unlikely to ever detach
