A Real Man in My Life Ch. 05

I got an extremely simple divorce from Parker, and Gray didn't need to so much as raise his legal finger. The fact that just the suggestion of some effort from him was enough to convince Parker's cheap 'legal advisors' to tell him to sign up and shut up; he did both.

He had by then moved out of his office to 'maximise his efficiency' and laid off most of his few remaining staff including his ever faithful (mostly) PA Edith. As soon as I heard I phoned putting her on to Gray who had a chat and emailed her a letter to present to her former employer demanding her appropriate redundancy rights seeing as she had worked for him so long.

He bitched and insisted she didn't have any but Gray had given her an excellent briefing on contracts of employment and terms and conditions, telling her precisely what to say and more importantly what action she would take to recover it. Parker paid in full, the cheque even cleared.

With just a little discussion Edith told me that Parker had eventually run out of ideas, tricks, contacts willing to work with him, friends and more importantly suckers. His kind of business relied on there always being people that would sign up or sign on to his scheme and they had run out. The final nail in the coffin was his being taken to a small claims court by a group of tradesmen he owed money to.

With the end of the office Bradley talked about his Dad having 'taken advantage of the information technology revolution and your office being where you laid your hat and at your fingertips.' Next, as my lovely Tom had once pointed out, the second bedroom in his flat was turned into an office and the perfect excuse to limit the children's access visits.

The boys no longer had a bedroom, Gem was now 'too old to sleep on the couch' so the weekends became Saturdays or Sundays and the Wednesdays stopped altogether and he was then able to concentrate on the really important person in his life; yeah, still him.

Bradley would still stay overnight on the sofa very occasionally if he knew Gray was coming over but was growing less enamoured of his father as the days, and the disappointments continued.

This detachment from her father didn't bother Gemma as in September she would be happily ensconced and studying to be a teacher at Edgehill University.

It's rather a long way away but the journey flies by in Gray's superb cars. All of her gear just disappeared into the back of the Discovery when Gray drove her there because (you guessed it) her father didn't offer despite the number of mate's vans he had promised his little girl since her interview had gone so well. Whereas Gray considered it an honour and said so, driving all the way there and back. On our first weekend visit Gray let me drive the DBS and it was great fun. I miss my not so little girl and our chats, but she is really happy and only ever a phone, text or Skype away and comes home for her breaks.

Tom was at Sixth Form college, playing in his band when he could and ignoring his little brother because after all Bradley was still Bradley - due to starting his final GCSE study in year eleven and not working anywhere near enough;

"It doesn't matter!" he whined at me reasoning (not excuse-ing) that, "Dad is going to take me on as an apprentice in his firm and I can learn more in the University of Life than I can from any tu'penny ha'penny college!" He snapped, as if I was an idiot not realise its import. I also think that even he was beginning to think that it might not happen though.

I told him that there wasn't 'a firm' as such despite his father raving about how much easier and more efficient he was not having an office or any staff to deal with but Bradley wasn't having any of it.

As for me, the morning after the gig Gray told me to pick a fortnight in the six week summer holiday and work out childcare for the kids, which was Bradley with my parents on and off, with my Gemma very much in charge at home.

It was so he could drive across Europe in his Aston Martin; we drove to Brussels which was grand, then Paris which was romantic, then on to Berlin which was soulful, then to Prague which was interesting then a two day rest in Austria which was wonderful. After the most romantic evening I could see from his distracted face that something was bothering him.

"I..." he started.

"You can tell me anything Gray," I said, thinking of the worse but not fearing it.

"I had everything planned," he said taking my hand and kissing it as we looked out from our hotel at Zell am Zee, "In two days' time I was going to propose to you in front of the Trevi Fountain in Rome," he grinned reaching into his pocket, "but I can't hold out that long, Darling Natalie, will you marry me?" He held out a tiny velvet box with the most gorgeous diamond solitaire.

"Yes!" I gasped out, "Yes, please!"

He pulled me into his arms and we kissed,

"One thing though Nats," he beamed at me in the moonlight, "can you live with being Natalie Woods?"

I laughed, he laughed.

We married just before Christmas and my Dad gave me away a second time. Bradley did not look happy about any of it at all, but did go with my Dad (who just loved Gray, very much his kind of man), his big brother Tom, Terry and my two brothers to buy really snazzy suits and matching shoes that probably cost more than the rest of his wardrobe put together.

We used the tiny church down the road from Gray's place decorated for Christmas, with Gemma and little Natalie as my bridesmaids and Deedee and Elaine (who had been there the first time I did this!) as maids of honour. Our ring bearer Sam toddled down the aisle on his wheeled frame and beamed a smile that had all of us gulping back tears. His Uncle Terry was there in his wheelchair, proudly as best man for a second time.

We all stayed at Gray's place for most of the Christmas holidays; the kids had Christmas day with their father (it was his turn) having lunch at a hotel he'd booked and paid for months before, then back to his small flat and falling asleep in front of the TV.

Gray and I had Sam, Terry, his best mate Dave, and my Mum and Dad over and we were just about getting the mountains of snacks that Gray, my Mum and I had prepared when all three were dropped off. Originally Gray was going to go and collect them but I secretly believe that Parker wanted to see Gray's house just to make sure it was as fantastic as Gemma had described it. The speed that he pulled out of the drive at convinced me that it was.

That evening was wonderful and the kids all stayed over for Boxing Day and the few days afterwards. Gray had the best of everything of course, and his big old country house was like something out of a 1980's American TV Christmas special and rather than just me cooking the lunch we all did.

Gray was generous with OUR gifts; I made him promise that he wouldn't go mad but Bradley spoke constantly about how much money his Dad always spent on them over the years and said he'd seen 'a look' in my face so bought presents from 'Mum and Gray'.

And didn't he just.

He bought Tom a real Fender Telecaster in the same colours as the cheap Japanese repro he'd bought from a friend a couple of years before, Gray had sat in our kitchen and played it a couple of times so knew what he was after.

"It's an AMERICAN ONE!" shouted Tom, leaping up and hugging Gray and me in a way he'd never done with his Father. I guessed that the American ones were different and as he slipped it from the huge black flight case he explained about American and Mexican Fenders. Ooooooh-kay...

Bradley had a £1,000 portfolio of rather good shares and lots of interesting books and programmes for his laptop on how the market worked, and on-line support from a company run by one of Gray's investment specialist friends so he could learn the money markets for real. Both me and my Dad begged Bradley not to tell his father as he'd blow the lot.

Bradley couldn't wait to tell his Dad and of course took his advice; I did ask Gray if he could set up the software to stop his Parker just syphoning it off. Gray said that he'd already done that and when he inevitably tried, the software would stop him and send an email to the friends company that had overwatch of the account. The email was received the day before New Year's Eve and Parker was cross and his excuse was that HE wanted to help his son and add some more shares of his own to the account. Yeah right.

But Bradley went with his Dad's advice and his famous 'take a chance', 'seat of your pants', 'winners always win' investment strategy and that particular portfolio is now down to just under £300. Even if he'd just left it and done nothing it would have raised £150 in the first year.

He bought Gemma a short jacket, a really good quality one I might add, that she had expressed a desire for having seen a friend in one, and told her that it was a 'car coat'. She looked confused but put her hand in the pocket and found an envelope with the booking forms for driving lessons.

This has been something that Parker had been 'meaning to sort out with a mate of his' since her seventeenth birthday almost a year before and her getting her first provisional licence.

Her first lesson was all day on the Saturday between Christmas and New Year, and she took to it like a natural as I knew she would.

Her driving instructor said that she had exactly the temperament and turn of mind to drive and if she had a few solid days of practice she'd pass first time. Gray heard that and just booked him for a solid week during the Easter break and come the time Gem took and passed her test first time.

Gray, being Gray, gave her a huge bear hug when she came back with her pass certificate, and apologised.

"Sorry Gem," he said, "I was going to pay for lessons until you passed, and now you've passed faster than I thought for." He reached into his jacket pocket and withdrew a couple of keys. "Here," he said handing them to her, "This should bring you up to the value of Tom and Bradders presents." I knew from the shape of the keys what it was and bit my bottom lip. "Out in the garage honey, next to the Disco."

Gemma shrieked and leapt into Gray's arms hugging him and thanking him. It was a car of course; she didn't care which, what colour nor how old. It was a car, and she'd wanted to take that step into the grown up world and he'd arranged it.

Next, we were all running out to the long driveway and the electronic garage door slowly opening to reveal a dark blue Ford Focus only a few years old with a huge ribbon bow on the bonnet. It was way more expensive than Tom and Bradley's presents but this was Gray of course.

Gemma opened it with the blip key and jumped in. Gray bent down to the open driver window.

"It's fuelled up, it's taxed and MoT'd for a year and it's insured in your name. BE CAREFUL WITH IT!" He grinned patting the roof and stepping back.

Tom climbed in the front passenger seat and Sam appeared next to him.

"Yeah, there's a spare seat for you buddy," said Gray picking up his son and placing him in a special child seat already in the back. "You three drive carefully now. Tea is at four!"

"Thanks Gray!" I said, watching as my family all went out for a drive for the first time without us. Almost all of my family of course.

Bradley was stood on the steps of the front door, arms folded and looking down his nose at his sister's British Racing Green, 16 valve, two litre late Christmas present. There was some green eyed monster presence and I told Bradley that his turn would come when he was old enough.

"Dad's mate is going to teach me - for nothing," Bradley spat and with a sigh taken straight from his father's repertoire added, "and at least that's something that Dad won't have to pay for now."

"Yeah," said Gray with his deep rumbling voice, "poor thing."

So confident was my lovely Gem that she drove herself back to Edgehill after the three week holiday.

Before the wedding I had asked the kids which house they wanted to live in; my lovely Gem was away at Edge Hill of course but still agreed with Tom that they would live where I would be happiest, while Bradley asked if Gray really was going to cover over his swimming pool and Jacuzzi, and would he be building a gym.

We sold my house and we all moved there after Christmas. Bradley wanted desperately to complain about the disruption to his social life (he didn't actualy have one) but struggled to find something to bitch about in the great house so much like the one his own father had mentally prepared him for since he could sit, listen and understand his bullshit. His bedroom was huge, with a bathroom that only he and Tom used. Gemma's room was attached to the one that Sam used and he didn't mind.

At Gray's recommendation I worked out the profit that my place had made in the twelve years I'd lived there and happy that my money was going straight into the bank - Gray had no mortgage - I rang Parker and said that I was going to give him half of the profit.

"How much?" he said.

"Eighteen Thousand," I said, "I'm rounding it up to twenty as a good will gesture."

"Twenty five," said Parker, just as Gray predicted he would. I cancelled the call as Gray suggested.

Parker rang me back.

"Natalie," he said, "I..."

"It's just gone down to fifteen," I said, "and if you dare to try to bargain with me like one of your spivvy contacts, I'll keep the fucking lot!"

"Sorry Natalie," he said with little feeling.

"I'll transfer the money into your account tomorrow..."

"No!" he almost cried out, I guessed that the second it appeared in his main account it would disappear to service any debts he probably had, "No, please may I have a cheque made out to me?"

I wanted to giggle; working in a large primary school the 'please may I' phrase was something that the children were taught.

"I'll get a building society cheque raised and have them post it to you."

"I'll collect it," he said brightly.

"Whatever," I replied, "but that's it Parker, I'm only doing this because you're in the shit, and if you don't have a business Bradley will end up working in MacDonalds for the rest of his life."

"Thank you Natalie," he said, actually sounding like he meant it for the first time, "Bradley will be fine, I'll look after him like he's my own..."

"HE IS YOUR OWN DICKHEAD!!" I screamed down the phone and disconnected the call and turned it off. Fucking Parker!

He was back to his old self and performing again, saying what people wanted to hear without thinking and extremely lucky to get anything after that, by Gray convinced me to send him the twenty thousand as discussed. I doubt he has much left.

No one was more surprised than me when later that summer I missed a period, I was normally so careful about those kind of things, but Gray and I were so much in love that we struggled to keep our hands off of each other, and eight months later our son James was born and he's the apple of everyone's eye including Sam who loves nothing more than holding his little brother and hugging him.

Sam had come on in leaps and bounds and now there was a big family in his home, he is no longer residential at his school and comes home each day, with the occasional nurse or physio visit.

He loves his 'Big Sissa' Gem and when she's away they have a weekly Skype chat on his tablet and it's the highlight of his week, while she is the only person that gets to call him 'Sammy' and he goes all silly when she does.

Then there's Tom; he just worships Tom.

Tom has always had limitless patience and will still sit with him and help him with school stuff without it seeming to be about school. Sam was good with his various specially designed electronic devices but one day he was watching Tom drawing a caricature, something he'd always been good at and had taken some special art lessons to improve. He had drawn a picture for Gray to be scanned and made into a birthday card for one of Sam's carers, something that Tom often did for his friends and family.

Sam watched intently as Tom made Cathy his physiotherapist come out of the paper, with her permed hair, lush eye lashes, pouty lips and nose ring; he added some very simple colour and Sam was transfixed. Tom was charmed and not knowing that Sam couldn't use a pencil or pen he didn't let that stop him teaching his new little brother to draw.

So he started to help his new mate hold a pencil and then make marks with it, something his school had struggled with. Tom's gentle support and encouragement, and loud and over the top congratulations would have Sam beaming his smile and lots of laughter. Over days and weeks and a large piece of clay painstakingly shaped to fit Sam's tiny misshapen hand and then baked in the college art studio ceramic ovens he'd cracked it, and Sam was beginning to draw very basic shapes. The college art lecturer found him in his studio waiting for the timer and listened to what that nice Wallace boy was up to and had him bring it back in if it worked and cast another three in rubber, telling him to get in touch again as Sam grew up. The college lecturer sent one to Sam's school with Tom's notes on that they had done. This was all news to Gray and I of course.

After a few months of having his son home, and the support of me and my two eldest children I found Gray stood in the kitchen, tears pouring down his face with a trembling bottom lip, as he carefully and purposely put a crumpled sheet of paper with some very scratchy circles with dark lines around them on to the fridge door and held it there with magnets.

"You OK Darling?" I said, having never seen him like this before.

"Yeah," he giggled, "Look," he took a step back and pointed at the collection of pencil lines, "It's me and you," he choked back another gasp of emotion.

"Gray..." I said at first not getting his emotion.

"He's just got it out of his book bag and gave it to me so proudly," he said his eyes streaming with tears, "Isn't it fantastic!?!" he giggled and wiped his eyes so he could see it more clearly and pulled me to a hug, laughing again.

Suddenly I got it; such a simple thing that simple parents get all of the time, so much so you have assign parts of the fridge door to each child and take down the oldest picture to put up the new one, often in secret. Gray had never had it before, and I guessed he thought that he never would.

"It's wonderful!" I said and hugging him round the neck and kissing him and laughing along with him.

"It's called Daddy and Mummy Natty," he said simply as he caught his breath again, his chin on my shoulder.

"Mu..."

"Mummy Natty," he said pulling back to look into my face, "his choice of words honey, not mine."

I put my hand across my mouth, my eyes brimming with tears now,

"Oh Gray," I managed to gasp out.

He wiped tears from my face,

"You and your children are the best the thing that have happened to my little boy since Caroline died, and I can't even begin to thank you enough for it."

We were both grinning like idiots and weeping big tears. I rested my forehead against his,

"You and Sam," I gasped in a whisper, "you're both sooo worth it."

Suffice it to say that after tea, I pulled Sam onto my lap and kissed his face, thanking him for the great picture and held him there in a hug all evening, then taking him up for his bath and wrapping him in big soft towels, and carrying him through to his bedroom, dressing him in his soft PJ's, tucking him in and kneeling by his bed and reading him all the stories he asked of me before kissing him good night. Silly, simple Mum stuff that I'd done for my own children but I felt so proud that within less than a year of losing his real Mum he had taken me into his trust and into his heart.

While Tom loved and looked after his new family it was obvious that he didn't care whether his baby brother James was planned or not, while Bradley took it personally looking at me as if I was some promiscuous single mother trying to find a way to get a bigger council house, rather than a 39 year old, professional office manager married to a millionaire with three kids of my own already and gorgeous step son that was improving by the day.