THE TAGALONG
Back in those distant days, I remember how Nicholas had grown so weary of wild nights out, of fleeting romance, and endless first dates, that meeting cheerful, clever Emma felt like a revelation.
Their first evening unfolded in a little cafe, listening to buskers on the high street, chatting about his work successes and her fondness for modern poetry.
They discovered a shared taste for apple-laden coronation salad, and in that moment, both realised here was something worth pursuing.
Emma invited Nicholas to her flat for dinner, marking the true beginning of their courtship.
Nicholas put on his finest shirt, had a proper shave, memorised a few peculiar lines from Emmas favourite poet, and brought along flowers and a bottle of red.
He walked over brimming with optimism, feeling at ease and certain of a memorable night.
His self-assurance could have rivalled any cat strutting to his bowl for the fifteenth time that day.
Everything was arranged down to the smallest detail except for the unexpected greeting he received: Evening.
Im Stephen.
Mums in the bath, come in.
Nicholas froze on the threshold, confronted by a lads face, square and solid, but with a boyishness about it.
Stephen extended a hand big enough to cradle Nicks head like an orange.
For a moment, Nicholas worried hed mixed up flats, but when Stephen sneezed with a comical flair not a sound escaping his pinched nose, just as Emma did Nick realised he was in the right place.
As his mood soured, the wine seemed to turn, and the flowers wilted in his grasp.
Inside, Nicholas spotted Stephens trainers.
He could have slipped them on over his own shoes and still had space to grow; the boy was enormous.
Emma, by contrast, barely reached her sons shoulder.
Nicholas mused, what a shame women couldnt manage their jewellery like sons.
Give a girl a ring, and ten years on it multiplies, like some shrewd investment.
Lost in thought, he followed the pair to a kitchen where the table was perfectly set and where Stephen, blessing his height, changed the curtains without bothering with a chair.
Give me five minutes! came a call from the bathroom.
Five sets of five minutes later, Emma at last emerged, radiant in an evening dress, her face aglow.
Catching Nicholass crestfallen expression, she immediately understood the trouble, and all her nervous excitement dissolved, along with any hint of romance.
Wordlessly, she served them both, poured the wine herself, and began eating without waiting for Nicholas.
Why didnt you tell me you had a son? Nicholas asked, his tone wounded.
Scared you off with my extra baggage, have I? Emma gave a sad little laugh.
Hes not baggage, hes an entire train carriage.
Big lad, isnt he?
Takes after his father.
That man was taller than Stephen, came from some remote northern village, and used to go after wild boar bare-handed.
And- and now?
Hes touring with the family boar.
Left us for the bright lights of the stage.
Occasionally writes though from his awful scrawl, youd think it was the boar itself sending word home.
How old is he? Nicholas nodded toward the lad.
Fourteen, just picked up his first passport.
With force?
Very funny.
They ate the rest of dinner in silence.
Any more meat? Nicholas asked, extending his plate.
Like it?
To tell you the truth, Ive never tasted better.
What is it?
Venison.
Stephen prepared it himself.
Talented fellow, your son.
Runs in the family.
Came with an old leather-bound recipe book, a case of fishing gear, a rowing boat and, well, other bits his father left with us.
The boat? Nicholas swallowed, a little envious.
Down in the basement.
At least, whenever it fits.
Stephen’s mad for fishing.
At that moment, Emmas phone buzzed.
She excused herself to take the call in the other room.
Time I was heading home, Nicholas thought.
There seemed to be nothing for him here now.
Listen, Nicholas, a bit awkward Emma returned to the kitchen, clearly agitated.
Theres trouble at work, a big burst pipe.
Could you watch Stephen for a couple of hours?
Me?
Watch Stephen?
Why?
He’s underage, anything might happen.
There are all sorts about these days…
You think someone might walk off with him without noticing?
Look, Ill pay you for ruining your evening and playing nursemaid.
I wont call again after.
Deal?
What am I supposed to do with him?
Youre both chaps.
Chat about whatever blokes chat about.
Ive got to dash.
Before Nicholas could protest, Emma had vanished into the night.
He lingered around the kitchen, drained his phone battery, finished off the venison and the wine, and still Emma hadnt returned.
Eventually, drawn by a familiar noise behind Stephens door, Nicholas knocked.
Its open.
Nicholas peered inside the lads room.
The first thing he noticed was a grand wooden dartboard bristling with knives and arrows.
Not a scratch on the wall Stephen never missed.
An old record-player played Iron Maiden quietly by the window (a group Nicholas adored), while Stephen sat in the corner mending his fishing tackle.
Trophies lined the shelf, a heavy punching bag swung from the ceiling, and a flashy games console lay by the telly.
Not bad, your mum really spoils you, Nicholas whistled, half-jealous, thinking he himself had always fancied a room like this.
I earn in the summers, Stephen replied, making Nicholas feel a flush of shame.
Hed pictured Emma endlessly emptying her purse for her unruly son, but the boy was clearly self-sufficient.
Any chance youve got a charger for my phone? Nicholas asked, waving the device.
Its by the train set, Stephen nodded.
The train set? Nicholas stammered, barely believing his ears, until he turned to see a fully-fledged railway layout.
He forgot how to breathe.
You built this yourself? Nicholas whispered, not wanting to break the spell.
Yeah.
Add bits when I can, saving up for a second level and a few bridges.
Parcel of rails came last week havent had a minute to set them out.
Heat flooded Nicholass chest and not just from the wine.
May I have a go, send one round?
Sure, just a sec. Stephen set down his tackle and with a single stride crossed the room.
*
Emma returned an hour later, certain Nicholas would have skulked off by then, and hurried straight to Stephens room.
She found the pair assembling the railway, both too absorbed to notice her.
For a moment, she wasnt sure who was the boy, and who the grown man.
Nicholas, time to go, she called quietly.
Oh crikey!
Whats the time?
Half past ten, Emma yawned.
Ive an early start again tomorrow, so Id best get some rest.
She walked Nicholas to the door and handed him a tenner.
I dont take money from a lady, Nicholas said, his pride unyielding.
All right.
Thanks for looking after my tagalong.
Nicholas offered a faint smile and left.
*
Hello, listen, I thought perhaps I could pop round again? Nicholas phoned a few days later.
Nicholas, really, work is a nightmare too much for romance right now, and after the other night…
Not for you I meant to see Stephen.
Stephen? Emma sounded puzzled.
Yeah.
Maybe he needs watching?
Keep an eye on the little one?
Ill I suppose Id better check.
Ive already asked him.
Hes happy, and I grabbed a new game for his X-Box.
Well keep quiet, you can get on with work.
Well…
fine.
Come over tonight then.
That very evening, Nicholas turned up transformed.
No pressed shirt, no cologne, no bottle of wine, and none of those smouldering glances.
Just a plain black band tee, a rucksack full of crisps and lemonade slung over his shoulder, and a daft schoolboy grin.
Do keep the noise down Ive a two-hour video call, Emma met him in her dressing gown, a face mask on, and a faint whiff of onions in the air.
Nicholas nodded and slipped into Stephen’s room.
Later, Emma struggled to pry Nicholas and Stephen apart mid-debate, both arguing fiercely over the merits of Guy Ritchie and Shane Meadows.
They were ready to settle things with a gruelling movie marathon, but Emma convinced them they were both victims of fashion, and ushered Nicholas out.
Dont forget the bait for Saturday! Stephen called over his shoulder.
What on earth is he talking about? Emma levelled her gaze at Nicholas.
Were off pike fishing.
I promised him theres a proper shop for bait in town.
Havent been out fishing in ages.
You two really are thick as thieves.
No interest in spending time with me?
Youre welcome to join, make the sandwiches.
Oh, what fun!
Never mind off you go on your adventure, Emma smiled, shepherding Nicholas out.
At least hes got someone to keep him busy.
*
A month slipped by.
Emma buried herself in work, romance the furthest thing from her mind, but Nicholas and Stephen kept lively.
Together, they built up the train set, went out with the nets for crayfish, and brewed a batch of old-fashioned ginger beer following the family recipe.
Stephen taught Nicholas how to find north in the woods, while Nicholas enlightened him on the art of flirting even helping Stephen ask out a girl from the year above.
Everything ticked along peacefully until, one night, a hammering shook the door so even the lamp fittings rattled.
Emma opened up, promptly assaulted by the smell of wild boar.
There stood her old husband and Stephens father.
Ive seen the error of my ways! he declared, dropping to one knee.
Even so, he dwarfed Emma by a head.
Potter and I are tired of the road; we crave a quiet life.
Ive saved a bit come away with me and Stephen to the old village.
A good life, you can stop working, Ill spend my days fishing with our boy, and hunting too.
Oh, you are a card!
Ten years gone, and now you repent.
Is your boar also returning to settle down?
No, the brute signed a film contract behind my back with some studio, he grumbled.
So thats it your beast deserted you.
Thats not the point!
What matters is Im here now
He didnt finish, as Nicholas, wearing Emmas oversized t-shirt, appeared, a bit sheepish.
Emma, Ive borrowed your shirt, mucked up mine finishing the engine paint
Heavens, does anyone ever finish a sentence in this house? Emma grimaced, surveying her men.
Whos this? the ex demanded, raising a mammoth fist.
This um well Emma faltered, at a loss for words.
Just then Stephen dashed in, deftly twisted his father’s arm behind his back, and pinned him to the wall.
Thats the tagalong! Stephen hissed.
Stephen!
Son its me, your dad!
What tagalong? the man wheezed, contorting.
The tagalong who helps Mum and me haul everything you left behind.
But I never left you anything! the man sputtered, realising the weight of his own words.
Nicholas and Emma stood huddled to one side, watching the family showdown.
All right!
Break! the father barked, and Stephen finally released his grip.
Well, youve done well, lad, the man grinned.
Like father, like son.
Just about time you tried wild boar hunting yourself.
Look, can I at least take the boy out tomorrow?
Spend a day together, talk over lost time?
Surely you can let a father take his son for a day?
Emma hesitated, glancing from one man to the other.
I understand, Nicholas nodded, nipping out the door.
Sorry…
*
Early the next day, father and son headed out; Stephen came home late, alone.
Wheres your father? Emma asked, agitated.
Hes gone, Stephen replied, kicking off his muddy boots.
Just like that?
He left?
Not exactly, Stephen shook his head.
Left with the boar.
Loaded it into the trailer and set off for more shows.
Drove me back to town and said goodbye.
Good Lord, what a fool I am, Emma groaned, clutching her forehead.
I need to call Nicholas. She reached for her phone.
No need.
I just said goodbye to him.
He gave me a lift home.
Promised to stop by tomorrow.
But you left your phone here!
How did he know where to find you?
Said he followed us to make sure I and you were safe.
He said that?
Yes.
And he added, hes latched onto us now, and doesnt reckon hell ever shake loose.Emma smiled, weariness and relief mingling in her eyes.
She ruffled Stephens hair as he staggered past, fishing rod slung over one shoulder.
The apartment was still warm with lingering traces of venison and ginger beermemory and promise coiled together.
That evening, Nicholas rang the bell as he always did, bearing a battered tin lunchbox and a railway magazine for Stephen.
Emma opened the door, and all the words both of them had rehearsed dissolved into an easy silence.
Stephen tore open the box, found homemade pork pies, and grinned.
So, tagalong, Emma said softly, leaning in the doorway, ready for another adventure?
Nicholas offered up the simplest, brightest smile shed seen yet.
If youll have me.
Just dont eat all the sandwiches this time, Stephen called from the kitchen, already setting out his rails for the evenings campaign.
Emma laughed, her heart flickering with hope.
The three of them sat down beneath the humming kitchen light, pieces of their tangled story settling at last into belonginga mother, her boy, and the tagalong whod refused to let go.
Outside, night wrapped quietly around their window.
Inside, the tracks stretched onwards, winding wide and welcoming through the small miracles of their days.
