This Love

by Anna Bloom

  I sit bolt upright in bed, Isaac’s scream dragging me out of a deep sleep. I fight my way out from under the cover, battling my way to get to my son. My eyes focus, far slower than they should in an emergency and by the time I’ve made it to the top of the stairs, I’ve noticed two clear things. Freddy is in front of me, dragging a T-shirt over his head, and it is daylight.

  Ah damn, I’ve over slept again, now Isaac’s probably set light to something in the kitchen and Elliot has turned up to collect him for the day and the house is in chaos and I’m lying in bed with my boyfriend. Yes, my boyfriend.

  “What is it, Isaac? Freddy calls when he gets down the stairs.

  “I need my mum.” Isaac states simply. This gets me moving, I slip down the first five steps in a bid to find out what’s wrong.

  “Why can’t I help?” Freddy never backs down from Isaac, ever.

  “Believe me, it’s something you don’t want to see.” Isaac tells him knowingly.

  "What?” I tightly clutch my robe around me, as my new sexy nightie is not appropriate for my son to witness.

  “Nan’s in the garden again.”

  My stomach sinks. “How bad is it?”

  "It’s pretty bad, Mum.” With despair spreading through my still waking body, I walk into the kitchen and peer through the double glass doors.

  Freddy has hung back in the hallway and I turn to Isaac who has followed me. “Go upstairs with Freddy,” leaning in, I lower my voice. “Don’t forget to wish him a happy birthday.”

  It’s Freddy’s thirty first birthday, and this wasn’t the start I had planned.

  Slipping my feet into a pair of wellies by the back door, I wrap my robe even tighter and step out into the crisp November morning.

  “Morning, Mum,” I call, as I walk over the wet grass. Totally naked apart from the wellington boots, she turns to face me. They are Isaac’s boots, and I doubt he will wear them again. She waves a pair of secateurs at me.

  “The roses need pruning.”

  I nod understandingly. The doctor has told me it’s very important that we take all her trains of thought, no matter how random or erratic, very seriously. “They do, but maybe you should come in for a bite of breakfast first and I’ll find you your coat?”

  We also mustn’t point out when she’s made mistakes, such as forgotten to put all her clothes on. She looks up at the sky. “No time dear, it’s going to rain and your father will be home soon and will want to know why I haven’t done it.”

  Now this is the thing. I don’t ever remember my dad questioning her about anything she did. He was always too scared she was going to bite his head off and spit it out with the trash. But now she is obsessed that he is going to find fault with everything she has or hasn’t done.

  “I don’t think he will mind, I’ll tell him we were busy.”

  “Here he comes now.” She looks worried and so am I considering my dad’s dead and has been for a fair while. Turning, I see Freddy coming out of the house holding the patchwork dressing gown that Mum’s had forever.

  Bless him. You’ve just got to love that man.

  “Here you go, Barb.” He hands her the gown and then helps her tie it.

  “You’re home early from work, I’m sorry I didn’t get the roses done.”

  Freddy’s eyes flick over to me but he’s quick to play along. “Work? I’m about to cook you some breakfast, I haven’t been to work yet. Come on, we can do the roses together later, that will be nice, won’t it?”

  Tears spring to my eyes.

  “Yes, that will be nice,” says mum, as she slides her hand through his outstretched arm. Together, they walk back into the house and I trail behind.

  By the time I’ve managed to get mum upstairs and into some clothes, we are heading more for a birthday brunch, than breakfast. Isaac’s gone, as usual Elliot is always impeccable with his collection timing, not so much with his drop offs. I shake the thought away and concentrate on the day ahead. Freddy’s day. I’ve never spent his birthday with him before and I’m determined to make it special.

  He’s at the kitchen table, coffee and paper in front of him. I wrap my arms around him tight when I get to him, giving him the biggest squeeze I can manage. He kisses my arm and warm tingles of happiness flood through me.

  When we were young, something as simple as sitting at a table and reading a paper together would have been unthought-of, but now it’s my most favourite bit of the weekend. Doing things like this with Freddy finally makes me feel like the grown-up I really should be — funny how I managed to have a baby by myself, look after a toddler for years by myself, but the simple act of reading a weekend paper with someone I’m comfortable with finally makes me feel like I’ve made it out of the wilderness years.

  “So, for your birthday.” I squeeze myself between him and the table and settle myself on his lap.

  “You’re going to finally finish the story you’ve been staring at on your computer for the last couple of months?” A smile teases the edge of his mouth.

  “Uh, no. And don’t interrupt.” I interrupt myself by planting a full on kiss on his mouth. “So, we have some time at home, this morning. And then this evening I have a romantic surprise planned.”

  “I’m more interested in what you plan to do during our time at home this morning.” His eyes dance as one hand slides up my leg.

  “Well, it is your birthday, so your wish is my command.”

  Freddy lifts us both off the chair and carries me out of the kitchen. I’m screeching and we are halfway up the stairs when Mum comes out of the lounge looking confused. “Amber, Freddy?”

  Freddy drops me to the ground and I straighten up, shifting my clothing so I don’t look too wanton. Fail.

  “Are you going out?” mum asks.

  “Later, Mum, we won’t be late, I promise.”

  She looks at me in confusion. “Amber, you’re nearly thirty, I don’t think it matters if you come home late, try not to wake me up, though.”

  Freddy’s hand releases mine and he leans in to my side. “Go and spend some time with your mum,” he whispers.

  “But it’s your birthday.”

  He offers me an off-handed shrug and walks away.

  Tentatively, I step towards my rarely present, mother. “Would you like a cup of tea, Mum?”

  “That sounds lovely.” She turns for the kitchen, humming as she goes, and I speed after her, determined to spend as much time with her as possible while I can.

  Later, to my surprise, mum is still fully lucid, she hasn’t had a lapse all day and I feel kind of guilty still encouraging her to go to bed early. We’ve had such a good day. Freddy made us lunch, mum knew that it was Freddy and that we were in the present and she knew who Isaac was and that he was with my ex-husband, or eventually-to-be ex-husband.

  Her improved state during the rest of the day has made me feel slightly more comfortable leaving her without a sitter tonight.

  “Are you still worrying?” Freddy comes up behind me as I put in some earnings and he kisses the back of my neck.

  “A little, maybe you should just go out with your family and I’ll stay here.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I told you that I’ve been around to the neighbours and told them we will be out for a couple of hours and for them to keep an ear open for anything? I’ve left both our numbers just in case they need us.”

  The unsettled feeling inside me disperses slightly. “That’s very thoughtful.”

  “It’s totally selfish, I want to go out for dinner with you without you worrying all night.” He grins at me and turns me in his arms, his lips graze over mine and suddenly my own reasons for wanting to stay in tonight are entirely selfish.

  "You know, considering you are now so old, you are still very easy on the eye.” He’s dressed in the most formal clothes I’ve ever seen him in (excluding the night he dumped me wearing a suit) dark jeans and a black button up shirt. The black sets of his blonde hair, making it glow like a halo and darken his
eyes to the point they look dangerous.

  ‘Old! I’m thirty one, I’m in my prime.”

  “Nope, your prime was when you were eighteen, and I missed that.”

  “I still feel like I’m eighteen, does that count?”

  I pretend to think for a moment. “Maybe.”

  ‘Maybe?” He hoists me closer, fitting my body into his perfectly. The firm curve of his chest presses into mine and his hands slide along my floaty dress, strong fingers pulling at the fragile material.

  A red heat flares up my throat and his lips trail along, kissing the flush that he always creates in me. “This isn’t going to dinner,” I fluster.

  “Nope.” He lifts me into his arms and I tangle my legs around his back as he steps us towards the bed. Lowering me gently onto the mattress, his hands skim under my dress, easing over the silky casings of my hold-up until they get to the edge of my knickers. “We can be late.” His lips curve into one of his delicious smiles.

  “There’s late, and then there is this sort of late,” I murmur as I pull his mouth to mine.

  “Then this sort of late, we will be.”

  “This isn’t the restaurant?” Freddy peers out from the passenger window at the darkness around us.

  “No, Sherlock, it’s not.” I yank at the truck’s handbrake, which resists my effort to put on the brakes. I’m driving and the only reason I offered is because I had something important planned before our dinner. So now we are late and then a little bit later.

  I’ve driven us to the place where we had our first date, the crazy death defying sledging that made me realise Freddy was like no other person I knew. “What are we doing here, Amber.” His voice is soft as he turns to face me, sliding his hand along my shoulder.

  “I wanted to give you a birthday gift.”

  “Here? Amber, that’s a bit rude.” He chuckles and leans in, kissing me in the most distracting way possible. Heat spreads through me again and we may well be even later for dinner than we already are.

  “Freddy, wait.” I pull myself away from his mesmerising touch. “I have something I need to say — it’s important.”

  “Important?”

  “Yes.” I lean back in my seat and weave my fingers through his. “Do you remember when we first came here and you told me we could be something?”

  “Yes?” His tone is hesitant.

  “I want you to know that I believed it then and I still believe it now.” I lift his fingers so I can sweep my lips over his knuckles. “I know I’ve done the wrong thing, especially with you and Isaac, but I want you to know that it was never meant to be that way. I never meant to hurt you, or him.” I take a deep breath. “I think it’s time we told Isaac the truth, together, and cement our family once and for all.”

  It has to be the right time. Everything is too perfect for it not to be.

  To my surprise, Freddy leans in and grabs me in his arms, his mouth finds mine again, demanding and explorative.

  “Freddy,” I interrupt. “Dinner?”

  He pulls away his expression slightly dazed. “Dinner.”

  As I start the engine and reverse out of the car park, I watch him smile into the wing mirror and it makes my heart sing with happiness. We can be something. The three of us.

  BURN

  Freddy and I are whispering, our heads bent towards each other, fingers entwined when we are called from our little bubble with the sound of a knife tapping glass.

  “If I can have everyone’s attention, please.” Grant looks as pleased as a cat handed a saucer of cream. Freddy and I automatically pull away from one another, the absence of his touch creates a cool brush of air against my skin. “So, as you know, it’s my big brother’s birthday, and we all want to wish him a happy birthday and say how pleased we are to see him happy.” He smirks here. “At bloody last.” Everyone laughs around the table and I glow from the inside out. I’m like a shining beacon of cheesy happiness.

  Clinking glasses, we all wish Freddy a happy birthday. Grant hasn’t finished though, and continues to stand. “Since Amber’s been back and introduced Isaac into out lives, it feels like our family is nearly complete.” I have a feeling this is another veiled attempt at finding out about Isaac’s parentage, but I focus on the squeeze of Freddy’s fingers and I know he is thinking about it, too. “I say nearly complete, because Danni and I can confirm that we’re are expecting a baby in the late spring.”

  There is stunned silence around the table and then before I really know what I am doing, I jump from my seat, knocking drinks all over the place and grab for my friend. I’m sure we are all screaming and the rest of the restaurant is giving us peace-disturbing evils, but I don’t care.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I screech at full volume.

  Danni laughs and manages to extricate herself from my tight grip. “We were just making sure it took this time, that’s all.”

  With my eyes shining, I turn to Freddy and throw myself into his arms. “Oh my God, Freddy. This is just turning out to be too perfect, pinch me so I know this is real.”

  He does, hard, on my bum.

  “Bloody hell! Not that hard.”

  “It’s real,” he whispers, pulling me in tight, he kisses me in an inappropriate public display of affection and I lose myself in him, not caring about the packed restaurant until I hear someone calling my name. Henry.

  “Amber, your phone is ringing.”

  Freddy sweeps his hands for my phone on the tabletop.

  “Hello?” His tone his hesitant and I watch as he listens to the person on the other end. In an instant he’s in action, gathering his jacket and grabbing the truck keys from my bag. I watch as alarm seeps through me. “I’ll be there as quick as I can.” Then he hangs up, his dark blue gaze settled on me.

  I go to speak but nothing comes out.

  “Amber, you stay here with Danni,” he nods his head to Danni and I feel both her and Grant lock me in between them.

  “No.” I shake my head. “Tell me what’s going on.”

  In one stride he is in front of me, his hands cupping my face, his eyes pleading. "Please, stay here, for me.”

  “It’s mum, isn’t it?” with my words, I worm my way free from my well-meaning friends and grab my stuff.

  Freddy doesn’t ask me to stay again, he just grabs me by the elbow and wheels me towards the car.

  Freddy drives like he’s tearing up the racetrack. I cling to the seats, not daring to ask what the phone call told him or why he is breaking the local constabulary’s speeding regulations. I don’t have to wait long to find out; as soon as we turn into my road I can see instantly what the problem is, but try as I might, I can’t get it to make sense in my head. Smoke is billowing out across the street and it seems to be coming from my house. My bedroom window is smashed open and black fumes spill out, mixing with the dark night air. The acrid burning of smoke fills my throat as soon as I jump out of the car and nausea claws it’s way up my throat, saliva flooding into my mouth. The smell reminds me of the night Freddy was pulled from a burning car. I sat by his side all night, unable to escape the lingering stench of char that clung around me in a cloak of doom.

  “We’ve got to find mum,” I holler across to Freddy. In a flash, he is by my side, his arms grabbing me in an iron grip and pulling me back into his chest, as I use every fibre of strength in my body to writhe my way free.

  “Amber, wait.” His words cut through me and my struggling lessens. “Lets go and find out what’s happening. You can’t run into that building.”

  Fear claws it’s way into my chest. “I’ve got to get my mum.” My eyes tear through the scene in front of me, searching for some sign of mum in her nightie. “I’ve only just got her back.”

  He releases his hold. “And I’ve just got you back, and I won’t lose you to that.” His hands slide from my shoulders down my arms. “Stay here.”

  He moves away from me, and as soon a I lose the security of his presence, panic starts to overwhelm me. My mum is in a
burning house and I’m stood out here watching.

  Understanding dawns on my slowly, this is entirely my fault. My stomach heaves and I bend low as I gag uncontrollably, my food and wine dashing the pavement. I left her alone. Yet another mistake to add to my endless list.

  I watch in muted horror as Freddy talks to the ambulance and fire crew, there's a lot of gesturing, yet no one seems to be doing much. Surely there should people running around, shouting, anything? Instead, there is an eerie calm that creates a hole in the pit of my stomach, a hole that makes me know something isn’t right. Something worse than losing a house. I feel like I'm walking through fog as I make my way over to the huddle of people. The neighbours are watching with sympathy scored on their faces but I try and ignore their searching glances. I'm just reaching for the sleeve of Freddy’s jumper when a cry comes up. “All clear.”

  How can it be clear when I can't see my mum?

  Two fire fighters, their suits shining with damp, bring through an ambulance trolley. On the trolley is my mum, the fear that she will look like Freddy after his accident is eased. Her skin is unblemished, and she looks like she's sleeping, which I guess she is because she's not moving.

  “Thank, God.” I cry, running to the trolley and lifting mum's hand in mine. My relief floods through me, presenting itself in rolling tears that gain momentum as they slip down my cheeks. “Thank you,” I say over and over again to the firemen. “Thank you.”

  My eyes lift from the sight of mum and search for Freddy, I find him watching me with a tortured expression. “It's okay,” I smile through my tears. “I'll go in the ambulance to the hospital, you follow behind. Do they need us to do anything else here?” I feel like someone should be here, I mean, after all, the house is burning down right in front of us, we might need to — I don’t know — sign something.

  I know it wont be me who stays behind. I need to be with my mum.

  Freddy moves around the trolley, his eyes never leaving mine. Reaching for me, he places his hands around my face until my cheeks are cradled in the combination rough and smooth texture that is uniquely Freddy’s reassuring touch. For one bizarre moment, I think he's going to kiss me.