The macaroni cheese had been made to perfection with a crisp cheese crust on top. ‘I’m not sure what to do first.’
Martin let go of my hands, and took a piece of paper from his breast pocket. ‘I’ve made a list,’ he said, ‘cobbled together from what I remember when my parents died. Funeral arrangements -’
‘A list!’ I exclaimed. ‘You made a list when you have so many other things to do.’
‘That’s what friends are for.’ Martin handed it over. ‘It helps to have something concrete to think about.’
‘How are Paige and the baby?’
He frowned a trifle. ‘They’re fine. I’m not sure how much rest Paige is getting.’
‘Are the nights bad?’
‘I’m in the spare room at the moment.’
It was getting dark, and the lights needed to be turned on, but I did nothing about it. Martin and I sat in the kitchen while dusk crept in, and I was grateful, oh, so grateful, for his presence.
‘No story tonight,’ I said to the boys. ‘I want to talk you.’ They were scrubbed, shining, hopeful. ‘It’s about Daddy.’
Two pairs of trusting eyes fixed on me. I patted Felix’s bed. ‘Come and sit beside me.’
Felix settled on my right, Lucas on my left. I put my arms round them and held on tight. Felix wriggled free, slid down and fetched The Very Hungry Caterpillar. He held it out to me with both hands. I shook my head. ‘No story tonight, Felix… Daddy…’ I faltered, and stopped. ‘He…’ I was searching for the words – the right words, the best possible ones. I was searching for control. That I must exert. I was searching to help them travel through a grief-stricken future.
‘Daddy.’ Lucas was confident and giggly ‘Our daddy?’
‘Yes, your daddy.’
Felix picked up Blanky, hauled it up and climbed back into a position against me: a warm, surprisingly solid weight for his size.
‘Daddy loved you very much,’ I said, and pulled them closer, ‘and he will always be with us, but I’m afraid something’s happened to him…’ I choked and struggled to continue. ‘He got very ill, and his heart couldn’t beat and he died. He’s gone away and he won’t be coming back.’
Lucas burst into tears. ‘He promised to come to the football.’
I experienced an overwhelming sense of heaviness and defeat. ‘Lucas, Daddy can’t come to the football.’ I took his little hand and stroked it. ‘He would have come if he could.’
‘Where’s he gone to?’ Lucas’s sobs were panicky.
‘He’s gone up into the sky. He can probably see us, and he’ll think about you all the time. I’m going to take care of you, and we shall be together. And we’ll think about him a lot, won’t we, boys?’
Felix wriggled out of my embrace and went to the window. ‘Naughty Daddy,’ he said angrily.
‘Daddy’s not naughty, Felix,’ I said. ‘He couldn’t help it.’
‘Naughty, naughty’ Felix repeated. Then he said, ‘There’s Tigger in the street.’
‘Come back, Felix.’
But he shook his head and remained stubbornly by the window. Lucas sighed and looked up at me. ‘Does that mean we’ll be a getting a new daddy to drive the car?’
13
Felix climbed into my bed and woke me. ‘Mummy, where’s Daddy?’
It was six o’clock and I had just fallen into a heavy sleep, but his question sent a shock through me. Through stiff lips, I murmured, ‘Do you remember we talked about it last night, Felix? Daddy’s gone away to where he’s very happy and peaceful.’
The voice in my ear was insistent and anxious. ‘Are you going away too?’
I wrapped him in my arms, and we ravelled into a knot of limbs under the duvet. ‘No, I’m not.’
‘Promise?’ Felix wound his leg round my torso, and pressed his head into my chest. Bolted together in that innocent, sad embrace, I pictured the river of DNA that flowed through me into him. I was him. He was Nathan. He was me. Never before had I chosen my words with such care: ‘I have no intention of going away, Felix. I’ve got you both to look after.’
Felix’s grip loosened. ‘Daddy’s naughty to go away.’
Nathan had had no choice. He had not wanted to go. Either of those statements would have been true. Yet even a child could spot how hopeless and insecure they made the world appear, and the point of being a parent was to persuade your children that they were safe.
After a while, Felix relaxed. His body grew heavy and his breathing regular. I lay with my arms still round him as the sounds of the day outside multiplied and I knew I had to get up and face it.
The boys and I got dressed together. ‘I bet I can put my trousers on quicker than you can put your socks on.’ I held up a red pair and a blue one.
‘Quick,’ said Lucas, and hauled off his pyjamas. His bottom had a picture of a cat on it, drawn in black Biro.
‘What on earth have you two been doing?’
At the breakfast table, I said, ‘If you eat all your cereal, you can have ice-cream for supper and an extra long story at bedtime.’
In that way, with stops and starts, bribes and games, we got through that early morning and breakfast. That was how it would be for a good while: games, subterfuges and stratagems to make the days pass.
After Eve had taken them to school, I cleared the table and tidied the kitchen. I’m a widow, I thought, as I swished water round the sink.
As I went upstairs to make the beds, the letterbox in the front door rattled. The flap was lifted and an eye peered through. I recognized it, and opened the door. ‘There’s a perfectly good bell,’ I said to Poppy’s stooping figure.
‘Minty’ Poppy levitated smartly. ‘I wasn’t sure about coming here but Mum sent me. There are things we need to go over.’
Clad from head to toe in black, her eyes red and sore, she looked frail and devastated. Pity for her and Sam, pity for the boys, pity for myself swamped my tired mind. ‘I don’t know what to say, Poppy, except that I’m so sorry.’
‘Sorry’ She experimented with the word. ‘I didn’t see him last week as usual. I cancelled because… well, because… something came up.’ She grimaced. ‘Isn’t that typical of Fate – or whoever? Just so cruel.’
‘Yes, it is.’
Richard had been parking the car and joined us. He was dressed for the office. He gave me a quick hug. ‘Minty, are you all right?’
‘You’d better both come in.’ I stepped aside. Richard placed an arm round Poppy’s waist and guided her into the house. Poppy’s eye fell on Nathan’s coat, which was hanging on its peg, and she stopped in her tracks. ‘That’s his. Oh, Dad.’
Richard manoeuvred Poppy past the coat and into the kitchen. ‘Poppy hasn’t been too well since she heard the news.’ He eased her into a chair and brushed the hair off her forehead. ‘Not surprisingly.’ He turned to me. ‘I hope someone’s been looking after you, Minty.’
A hand squeezed my throat without compunction. The only person who was likely to take care of me was dead. ‘Eve and the neighbours have been very good.’
Poppy’s haunted gaze roved restlessly over the objects in the kitchen. ‘Everything will change, won’t it?’ She glanced at Richard. ‘I woke up this morning, and it seemed fine. Then it wasn’t. Can you afford to stay here? You won’t have to sell the house?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll have to find out. I’m still trying to take everything in.’
‘Sorry,’ said Poppy. ‘That was stupid of me. Unfeeling.’ Her frailness was emphasized by the thin wrist she raised to her forehead. ‘I’m sure Dad will have provided…’ There was a tiny pause. ‘… for everyone.’
Very occasionally during the past few years, I had wondered if Poppy and I could skirt past Rose and become friends. Everyone benefited from an alliance within the family on which they could call at times when the chips were down. In this case, Poppy and I might have achieved something rather wonderful – a transformation where none had seemed possible.