Sunshine on a Rainy Day: A funny, feel-good romantic comedy. Bryony Fraser
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pushed her plate back and gestured to a waiter. ‘Right. Pudding, anyone?’
‘Alright. Yes, I wasn’t expecting to meet your parents, but no, it wasn’t actually as disastrous as it could have been. I mean, I didn’t have my chosen Meet the Parents Outfit on—’
‘You have a specific outfit?’
‘Flowery skirt: not too short or I look like I’m the cheating type, not too long or it looks like they’ll never have grandkids. Soft jumper: wow, look how approachable I am, low key and fluffy. Wedge heels: yes, I’m into aesthetics, but not in a way that would ever get in the way of my relationship with your son.’
Jack had his mouth open. ‘Wow, that’s … that’s awful. And brilliant. And awful.’
‘I know. But I just managed in this,’ Zoe said, gesturing at her jeans, t-shirt, leather jacket and battered trainers. ‘This is like the anti-Meet the Parents Outfit.’
‘And you still won them over.’
‘Did I?’ she said, with a disingenuous eyelash flutter. ‘Little old me?’
Jack pulled her close. ‘I don’t know how you did it, but yes, you did.’
‘Your mum’s not so bad. I don’t think it can be easy, living with your dad like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘He never talks! Ever! Does he? Or was it just me? I feel like the poor woman has to keep speaking just to fill that void between them.’
Jack stepped away. ‘Really? You think there’s a void between them?’
Zoe took his hand, laughing. ‘I don’t know. I’ve met them once, for one fairly odd dinner. You know them better than I do.’
‘I’d honestly never thought about it that way before.’ He looked up at her. ‘That maybe my dad might be hard to live with. I always thought it was my mum who was the difficult one.’
She kissed him. ‘Either way, we all survived the dinner, didn’t we? It might have been unexpected, but it wasn’t the apocalypse it could have been. Was it?’
‘My dad, when they left, actually said to me “She’s nice.”’
‘Wow, high praise.’
‘I don’t think you understand. That’s like Raymond Blanc saying your bouillabaisse is “quite tasty”.’
‘Because he’s such a connoisseur of women?’
‘No! It’s like Simon Cowell saying you’ve got a good voice.’
‘Because your dad’s made a career out of judging your girlfriends?’
‘No!’ Jack was laughing. ‘It just … it means he really means it. That when he says it, someone who never says much about anything, you must really have made an impression.’
‘A good one?’
‘Yes. He said you were nice, for god’s sake. Approval doesn’t come much higher than that.’
‘Well. I’ll make sure to put your father’s approval of me on my CV.’
‘And my mum’s.’
‘And your mum’s? Bloody hell, I did do well.’
‘You did indeed. But if there’s any chance you might be staying over again, please can we stop talking about my parents?’
‘Deal. Although now of course you’ve got to meet mine.’
They were both laughing, but there was a fraction of a second where both their laughs froze. Are we definitely doing this? thought Zoe. Is this it, now?
She gave Jack a kiss at the side of his mouth, and pulled out of his arms. ‘I’d love to stay another night, but I’ve got an early start in the morning. Thanks, though. I had a nice time.’
Jack offered a wonky smile, aware too of the oddness they’d accelerated into this evening. ‘Call me?’
‘I will,’ she said. ‘I’ll call you tomorrow, maybe.’
‘If I’m lucky.’
She opened his door. ‘Exactly.’
After she’d pulled the door closed behind her, Jack sat down. For the first time in his life, he could see his future ahead of him. And it looked pretty good.
On the bus home, Zoe looked at Hot Barman’s number on her phone. What was happening here? Yes, she liked him, yes, they seemed to have a nice time together, and yes, he actually seemed like a decent human being, but they’d known each other less than two weeks and she was talking about introducing him to her family? If nothing else, her sisters would eat him alive.
She smiled at the thought: that poor boy facing her three sisters. And her parents.
This was all too fast. She hadn’t ever felt like this with anyone else, this urge to be with them all the time, every day. She’d had the opposite – someone claiming all her time – and she didn’t want to do that to Jack. Tonight she’d had to make herself leave, despite every fibre in her body wanting to stay with him again. But she also knew that this was probably just lust, and she didn’t fancy getting burnt that way. She wouldn’t get hurt again. She was careful now. In a moment of certainty, frustrated by her urge to call him, she deleted his number from her phone: she would have to get over him now.
Still, it had been interesting to meet his mum and dad. She believed that everyone eventually grew into their parents in some form or another, and couldn’t help wondering what any future wife of Jack would have to look forward to: an unstoppable flow of empty small talk, or an impenetrable wall of silence as he slowly became a ghost haunting their lives. She shuddered.
It was one of the reasons she’d always dreaded the idea of marriage: you were bound to someone forever, no matter how completely different a person they became over the decades spent living with them. Her own parents had got round it by never marrying, but living in blissful sin, as they’d say to their four daughters (who thought nothing of their parents’ sin, but who’d wince and howl at the thought of their bliss).
Zoe quite liked it now, the bloody-mindedness of their refusal to marry in the seventies, and sticking with someone for years and years when no legal documents said you had to. It was touching in a way. But it had meant that for as long as she could remember – ever since she’d asked Mum if she could see her wedding dress, and Mum had sat her down and explained that she and Dad had never wanted to get married like everyone else – Zoe had learned that marriage wasn’t something that was for everyone. And while her head had taught her that lesson growing up, nowadays, her heart felt the same way.
Now
Since I’d got back to work after our wedding, school had been frantic. Yet another education rejig was on the cards, which meant our latest student reports had to be rewritten, handed to the pupils, then re-rewritten with their feedback taken into consideration – I’d been in school until ten every night that week. I was looking forward to Friday night in front of the TV, inhaling burritos under a blanket with Jack.When I saw him on Friday morning, I asked him if he fancied the burritos, or something else – my treat, I’d pick it up on the way home.
‘Zo, it’s the Henderson party tonight. At the shop? God, we really need to get a calendar up in here.’
Oh no. I loved Jack’s shop, loved hanging out there with him, looking at his gorgeous shoes and wondering if I could get Dad into any of them. But his staff were another matter. Paisley, Agatha, Jonjo, Gabben, Mint: Mint was the worst, always trying to touch my hair and saying how amazing my skin was. Nooope, no, thank