The Armchair Bride by Mo Fanning Read Free Book Online Page A

then.’
    Brian studies Andy.
    ‘Anyway, welcome one and all. Sorry I wasn’t here to greet you, had to do a last minute dash to the off license. Mother announced she can only drink sweet white wine.’
    ‘I’ll take that.’ Audrey relieves her husband of the bottle. ‘And hand me your coat, I’ll put it somewhere to dry.’
    She leaves us in the living room. At first, nobody seems to know what to say so we exchange smiles.
    ‘Audrey’s been telling us about the Toby Jugs.’ Andy says.
    ‘Hmm, yes.’ Brian looks less than enthusiastic. ‘Has she told you they’ve all got names?’
    ‘Yes, Norman is her favourite.’
    Brian nods, but says nothing.
    I look around the room, desperate to find something to talk about. A photograph on a bookcase catches my attention. Brian follows my gaze.
    ‘Happy days,’ he says and I can’t help but pick up on the edge to his voice. It’s a picture taken some years earlier of  Brian and Audrey together, in what looks like a bar, and they’re both laughing. Brian has a classic eighties mullet and bum fluff moustache. His face is thinner, yet somehow softer. Audrey too is a different person. Her hair is longer and unruly, her untroubled face lit by laughter. There’s something unfamiliar about the two people in that picture. They’re happy and look like they might be in love.
    There’s a gentle tap at the door.
    ‘That’ll be mother,’ Brian says. ‘No matter how many times we tell her to make herself at home, she insists on knocking. Excuse me.’
    He opens the door to reveal an impeccably dressed elderly woman, propped up on a walking frame.
    ‘Come on in,’ he says. ‘I thought we said, you don’t need to knock.’
    ‘I don’t like to go barging in uninvited. This isn’t my house after all,’ she says. ‘Help me to the table.’
    ‘We’ve got guests, mother. Lisa and Adam from the theatre.’
    She nods, but doesn’t look over. ‘They work with me at my theatre.’
    She stops and looks at Brian. ‘Your theatre? It isn’t your bloody theatre. Like this place, it’s hocked up to the eyeballs. Now help me to the table.’
    He takes her arm and fusses around as she slides her bony frame into one of the chairs.
    ‘Why are we eating so late anyway? You know anything after seven repeats on me. I’ll be up all night with my bowels, you see if I’m not.’
    Her careful and characterless accent tells me at once this is Audrey’s mother, not Brian’s. When I look closer, I see the family resemblance. The same cold, watery eyes, the same mean lips, the square manly jaw.
    Brian tries to make her comfortable.
    ‘I’m not a sack of spuds,’ she grumbles. When settled, she shuffles around in the chair and stares at us.
    ‘Welcome to the mad house,’ she smiles at Andy. Her face changes when her eyes fall on me. ‘My name is June, you can call me Mrs. Hawe.’
    ‘Mother’s staying with us in the spare room while the builders tackle a hole in her roof.’ Brian sounds fed up. ‘She’s been here since before Christmas.’
    ‘That must be nice for you all, being around each other over the festive season.’ I say, determined to be the up-beat one.
    ‘If you say so.’
    ‘I’m not deaf.’ Mrs. Hawe raps on the table. ‘I might be old, but I do still have my senses. Stop talking about me as if I’m not here.’
    ‘Sorry. I meant that it must be lovely being together as a family.’ ‘What would you know about that?’
    ‘I was only saying…’
    ‘Well keep your pretty little Paddy nose out.’
    Brian looks uncomfortable and I want to get away from the mean old lady. Audrey seems oblivious and stands to clap her hands, like a formidable school ma’am bringing us to order.
    ‘Time for dinner, shall we all take our places? Mother will you join us or would you prefer a plate in your room?’
    ‘And miss this? You must be kidding.’ She winks at Andy and gives me a look that could curdle milk. Brian follows his wife into the kitchen. I fiddle with a