“You know, one time someone described Valerie’s relationship with you,” I said, omitting the part where the person who’d said it had been Emma. “They thought that Valerie didn’t really want you. She just wanted you to be available in case she wanted you. Do I believe that if you snapped your fingers right now, she’d come a-runnin’? No. I think she loves Laurence. But I think that assessment of your relationship was the other way around; you’re not happy unless Valerie is single and waiting for you.”
Neil’s expression hardened. “That’s not fair. After everything Valerie and I went through losing Emma—“
I held up one finger. “No. No. You do not get to invoke that in this conversation. You’re not calling Valerie to offer her support or look for support yourself. This has nothing to do with Emma and everything to do with the fact that Valerie got married and didn’t consult you first!”
“I agree with Sophie,” El-Mudad said, standing slowly. He put his hands in his pockets and looked down for a moment before meeting Neil’s eyes again. “I would never, under any circumstance, want to stand between you and Valerie when it came to dealing with your daughter’s passing or the raising of Olivia. But this is unrelated. If you don’t see that, then...I don’t know. I find it very difficult to believe that you don’t.”
Neil made a noise of disbelief. “Are you suggesting that I’m playing dumb? Honestly, I don’t understand what’s come over either of you.”
“Exactly! Either of us. You have two people who love you, asking you not to rush off and call your ex-girlfriend because you’re angry about her getting married,” El-Mudad said.
Though I hated the fact that we were arguing, I really appreciated having him for backup on this. Too many times, I’d been told not to worry about Valerie, that I had misinterpreted things about their relationship. The fact that El-Mudad saw it, too, made me feel less like I was overreacting.
“Fine!” Neil tossed up his hands. “I won’t call Valerie. Would one of you like to supervise me when I eventually do? So that you can make sure I won’t profess my undying love and run back to her?”
“No,” I said, rolling my eyes.
But at the same time, El-Mudad said, “Yes.”
“Pardon me?” Neil asked, his eyes wide. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am.” El-Mudad crossed his arms over his chest. “Think seriously, if you would, about how this looks to us. On Christmas Eve, you spent dinner with your ex-girlfriend, leaving us behind. Then, you told us you no longer wanted to go on our holiday in Venice with us. Now, you learn that your ex-girlfriend has gotten married, and you have to rush off to phone her like Ross Poldark riding to Trenwith to stop Elizabeth marrying George Warleggan!”
My mouth fell open. El-Mudad gave me a defensive side-long glare. “I told you, I can pay attention to my phone and the television at the same time.”
“Who are— No. No. I think both of you are making far too much of this. I already said I wouldn’t call Valerie—“
“You said until tomorrow!” I blurted, raising my voice more than suited the conversation. I didn’t want things to escalate to shouting, but somehow I had arrived there. “You’re going to call her tomorrow and, like El-Mudad said, make it seem like I ran tattling to you!”
“So, what would you two like from me?” Neil asked in frustration. “A written declaration that I, Neil Charles Leif Elwood, party of the first part, will never have any contact with Valerie...whatever her bloody last name is now? Unless said contact is about our granddaughter?”
“Yes!” El-Mudad said, his tremendous patience finally gone. “Yes, I would like that very much. Because there is no reason to have any other relationship with her!”
“Outside of over thirty years of close friendship,” Neil reminded us.
“Thirty years of friendship in which she outed you to your fiancé to sabotage your wedding, boasted about her campaign to drive you and I apart, didn’t attend our wedding because she still wasn’t over you, then got married not only without inviting you but without telling you,” I ticked off on my fingers. “Yeah, real close friendship, Neil.”
“I don’t expect either of you to understand—“
“Good! Because we don’t!” El-Mudad ran a hand through his hair and laughed in frustration. “Do you know something? This was not how I wanted the night to go. I wanted to spend time with the man I love after being apart for a week. It is the first night that I officially live here. And you want to spend it on the phone to your ex? Be my guest. Don’t expect me to come second to the person you really want!”
He stormed out of the living room and across to the foyer, then out the door, slamming it behind him.