Max goes to the wooden cabinet at the far end of the sitting room from which he retrieves a small red velvet box and hands it to Ellie.
She opens it to reveal an exquisite heart-shaped silver locket engraved with tiny flowers. It couldn’t be more perfect for Ellie. Max couldn’t have chosen any better.
‘Let me open it for you, munchkin. I want to show you what’s inside.’
Max prises open the delicate heart. Inside are two photographs, one on either side. The first is of Max, a portrait I took of him in Greece on that final holiday, the columns of the Parthenon just visible behind his head. The other is of me, taken shortly before I died, on a long walk the three of us had made over the South Downs at Easter. That was almost two years ago now.
‘What I thought, you see sweetheart, is that whenever you wear this, you’ll have the two people who love you most right next to your heart. Because you’re the most special person in the whole world to me and one thing I know for sure is that you were always, always right in the centre of Mummy’s heart, too. And so even when you and I aren’t together during the day, and even though Mummy’s not here any more, I want you to remember just how much we both love you.’
As he says this, Max places the locket around Ellie’s neck, adjusting the clasp until he’s sure it’s secure. Ellie holds back her hair for him and I hold back my tears.
‘I know how much you like looking at photos of Mummy and I thought this way you can always have Mummy with you, wherever you are.’
Ellie is gazing inside the locket that’s now hanging around her beautiful, graceful neck. She looks up at Max and smiles before climbing back on to his lap and resting her head on his chest.
‘I love it, Daddy. Thank you. It’s really, really pretty.’
Max and Ellie remain huddled on the sofa together and I long to be with them, to hold them both tightly and never let them go. I’d give everything else I ever treasured when I was alive, every material possession I ever owned, for a single day now with Ellie and Max.
Just one more day. It doesn’t seem much to ask, does it?
The air beneath me begins to billow gently and I know what that means. I issue a silent, unknowable goodbye to Max and Ellie before they disappear from sight, still holding on to one another tightly in the world below.
Chapter 18
‘Why are you acting so strange, Daddy? Stop pulling my arm. Are you cross?’
Max and Ellie are hand in hand, hurrying around the outer circle of Regent’s Park. It’s a grey, overcast day and there must be a chill in the air because Ellie’s wrapped up tightly in her winter coat and purple, fake-fur-lined boots, complete with woolly hat, gloves and scarf. Max seems to be in a bit of a panic, charging along at a pace that Ellie can’t hope to keep up with; he’s dragging her along as though his sheer momentum can make a seven-year-old’s legs move faster than they were ever designed to.
‘Of course I’m not cross, sweetheart. I’m just worried we’re going to be late. We said we’d meet Eve by two-thirty and it’s past that already.’
So that’s the reason. I bet this is The First Meeting. No wonder he’s nervous. I’m nervous all of a sudden and I’m not even invited.
I’ve thought about this meeting almost constantly during the solitary hours of what must have been the past four weeks or so. I’d felt so certain at first that I wanted it to be an abject disaster, that nothing would please me more than for it to become swiftly apparent that Harriet and I had been right all along. But then it began to dawn on me that if Eve and Ellie don’t get on there are only two possible outcomes; either Max feels he has to end his affair with Eve, making him unhappy, or Max continues his relationship with Eve, despite Ellie’s objections, making Ellie unhappy. And there’s no version of either Max or Ellie being unhappy that would ever make me anything other than miserable too, with or without Eve’s involvement.
Max and Ellie arrive at the entrance to London Zoo and there she is, waiting for them, in the most stylish casual attire I think I’ve ever seen: chocolate-brown Hunter wellies over light brown jeans, a dark green semi-fitted three-quarter-length coat and a fawn cashmere scarf tied so beautifully around her elegant neck that she really ought to be giving master classes.
‘I’m so sorry we’re late. You haven’t been waiting ages have you? Anyway, Ellie this is Eve. Eve meet Ellie.’
Ellie looks at Eve shyly as if she can’t quite believe that someone this pretty is actually about to talk to her.
‘Hello.’
‘Hello, Ellie. It’s really nice to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you from your dad. He never stops talking about you.’
A bashful smile graces Ellie’s lips as she leans her body in closer to Max.
The three of them enter the zoo, Max shooting Eve a reassuring nod over the top of Ellie’s head. Eve responds with a deep breath and an apprehensive raising of her perfectly plucked eyebrows.
She’s nervous. She’s really nervous.
I haven’t, in all honesty, spared too many thoughts over the past month for how Eve might manage this meeting but now we’re all here I can see that it isn’t going to be easy for her either. There’s clearly more riding on today’s events than probably any of us have truly dared to consider.
The three of them wander slightly aimlessly around the zoo for the first half an hour or so, Max cautiously driving the conversation, taking care to steer it towards uncontroversial topics: how parrots learn to talk, why flamingoes are pink and whether spiders can run faster than ants. It’s not until they reach the monkey enclosure that Ellie seems a bit more relaxed and the interrogation begins.
‘What’s your favourite colour, Eve?’
‘Green probably. Why, what’s yours?’
‘Mine’s pink. Daddy’s is blue. Mummy’s was purple. And what’s your favourite food?’
‘Oh, that’s a hard one. I like so many different types of food.’
Ellie’s eyes narrow with the impatience of someone who thinks procrastination is overrated.
‘But if you had to choose one? What would you choose?’
‘Probably roast beef. What about you?’
‘My favourite food of all time is ice cream. Do you know what Daddy likes best?’
‘No, I don’t think I do. What is it?’
‘Shall I tell her, Daddy?’
It’s an unconscious move on Ellie’s part, I’m sure, but nonetheless a definitive establishment of the group’s hierarchy.
Max nods.
‘Daddy likes a big, juicy steak best. With fat chips and a salad with avocado in it. Which I think is disgusting. I hate avocado. It’s so slippery in your mouth. Eww.’
Max and Eve both laugh at Ellie. She grins sheepishly but I can tell she’s relishing the attention.
‘And what’s your favourite film? Not a grown-up film but a children’s film?’
‘Gosh, that’s a tricky one too. My favourite film when I was your age was Mary Poppins but that’s probably a bit old-fashioned for you, isn’t it?’
‘I love Mary Poppins. Mummy and I watched it hundreds of times together. I know all the words to “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious”. I can sing it for you now if you like?’
Max puts an arm round Ellie’s shoulders and pulls her towards him tenderly.
‘Maybe later, munchkin. We don’t want to frighten the monkeys now, do we?’
Ellie produces the faux-offended frown she’s perfected over the past couple of years, a look which immediately reduces Max and Eve to giggles. She’s adorable when she pulls that face. Eve’s lucky to have witnessed it on their first meeting.
‘And … what about your favourite, um, outfit? Do you like trousers best or dresses?’
‘I suppose it depends on where I’m going. Like, today, I wouldn’t have been comfortable in a dress – I’m much happier in jeans. But when I’m going to work or out in the evening I definitely prefer wearing dresses or skirts. I think us ladies look prettiest in dresses.’
Ellie n
ods in earnest agreement.
‘Mummy liked dressing up too. She wore dresses to work every day, usually black ones or purple ones and usually those ones you wrap round you like a dressing gown. They sound silly but she looked really nice in them.’
Eve smiles and I can’t read whether it’s a smile of genuine encouragement or polite tolerance. I’m gratified, I can’t deny, by Ellie’s frequent references to me. What mother wouldn’t feel reassured that today, of all days, they haven’t been forgotten? But I find myself feeling unexpectedly awkward, too. Because I can’t really imagine what it must be like for Eve right now, full of hope that this four-foot bundle of energy should have neither the power nor the desire to disrupt her burgeoning relationship with my husband and yet fully aware that the success of the day’s outing is in her hands. It’s confusing for all of us. If you’d told me, just a matter of weeks ago, that I’d be empathizing with Eve’s position today, and half-willing Ellie to stop mentioning me quite so often, I’d simply never have believed you.
‘And what do you like better, animals or children? I think that’s a really hard one because I really like my friends but I also really like dogs.’
Max and Eve exchange one of those knowing glances and I suspect this isn’t the first time that Eve’s heard about Ellie’s puppy obsession.
‘Oh, definitely children for me. I love dogs too but I really like being around young people. That’s why I’m a teacher.’
Ellie allows herself a few moments to contemplate Eve’s response.
‘So what do you think’s nicer – being a mummy or a teacher? ’Cos Daddy says that being a teacher is a bit like being a parent and that’s why it’s such an important job.’
Eve hesitates for a moment and there’s that flicker of disquiet again, the same look I noticed on her face at Joan and Ralph’s during that first dinner party.
There’s a discomfort in Ellie’s eyes too, the impatience of a query desperately in search of an answer. I can’t help wondering what’s going on in that active little imagination of hers, whether her mind is already racing ahead to fantasies and fears of a time when Eve might prefer parenting to teaching.
‘Munchkin, do you think that might be enough questions for now? Perhaps Eve would like to hear more about you. Why don’t you tell her about the school trip you went on last week, the one to the Science Museum, while we go and find the lions?’
The three of them head towards the big cats, Ellie chattering away, holding on tightly to Max’s arm in a clear demarcation of territory. To any passerby, however, I’m sure they look like the perfect, happy, nuclear family.
It reminds me of the day, four years ago, when I was the woman walking by Ellie’s side at the zoo, when she’d skipped in between Max and me, imploring us, again and again, to swing her into the air. She’d giggled infectiously each time we raised her off the ground, her bare legs swaying high ahead of her, the adrenaline rush like a drug she simply couldn’t get enough of. That day had been so lovely, witnessing Ellie’s wonder at seeing so many animals that for her – until then – had been the preserve of picture books and television shows, watching her astonishment as previously fictional creatures came to life before her eyes. It had been the apes in Gorilla Kingdom that had mesmerized her the most, though. She’d been bewitched by the primates’ humanoid mannerisms, laughing whenever one of the animals scratched himself, or picked something up with his hand, initially disbelieving Max when he informed her that they were, in fact, our closest relatives, then joking that she was pleased she didn’t have a gorilla for a daddy.
It feels both like only yesterday and, paradoxically, light years ago. I remember how Max and I had agreed on the way home that it had been our favourite family outing to date, how it had been one of those rare, perfect days that make you forget, temporarily, all the fears and insecurities and anxieties you have about your ability to parent this little person you’ve been given the inexplicable privilege of taking care of and instead purely enjoy the pleasure of their company. It was a day I’ll never forget. I wonder if Ellie remembers it at all though. I suspect not. I suspect she was too young.
As the three of them head towards the lions’ den, Max and Eve exchange a surreptitious glance over Ellie’s head. It’s a look of mutual reassurance, of mutual relief, of tentative confidence. It’s a look that communicates they can’t quite believe how well this is going.
I can’t quite believe it either.
Because as proud as I am of how well Ellie’s behaving, I can’t silence the uneasy voice in my head that’s reminding me just how hard, how unnerving, how destabilizing this situation must be for her. The voice that says perhaps Ellie’s on her best behaviour because she’s fearful that if she doesn’t ingratiate herself with Eve, she risks losing the certainty of her father’s devotion. The voice that’s warning me no seven-year-old can keep that up indefinitely.
‘Can we go and see my cousins now, Daddy?’
Max looks at Ellie quizzically.
‘What cousins, sweetheart? You don’t have any cousins.’
‘The gorillas, silly. They were so funny last time we were here. I want to go and say hello to them again or they’ll think we don’t like them.’
She remembers. I really didn’t think she would. Perhaps she doesn’t remember all of it, perhaps she only remembers the gorillas and nothing else, but her remembering anything at all about that day is more than I dared hope for.
‘Of course we can, sweetheart. But do you fancy a break at the adventure playground first?’
‘Okay, Daddy. Race you there.’
As Ellie runs on ahead, Max slides his hand into Eve’s and kisses her gently on the cheek before whispering something in her ear. Whatever he says makes her smile in gratitude, her face radiant with happiness.
A few metres ahead now, Ellie glances over her shoulder to ensure they’re still following her, just in time to catch Max take Eve’s head in his hands and kiss her fully on the lips. The brightness in Ellie’s eyes darkens immediately. A cloud of confusion, hurt and rejection shadows her face, the pleasure of the day evaporating in a single, disconcerting instant. Oblivious to Ellie watching them, Max and Eve rest their foreheads together, their fingers entwined, immersed in a moment of mutual infatuation so clearly to the exclusion of all others.
I shift my glance rapidly from Ellie to Max and back again, waiting to see what Ellie will do next. For what seems like minutes but is probably, in reality, no more than a few seconds, she watches them stealthily in a haze of bewilderment and embarrassment. Whatever expectations Ellie had before today’s introduction, she evidently wasn’t prepared to witness this.
Suddenly she screws her eyes tightly shut, turns her body in the opposite direction and, safe now in the knowledge that she’s managed to obliterate the sight that’s so perturbed her, opens her eyes and runs at full speed towards the playground. A split second later, Max finally prises himself away from Eve’s embrace and looks around, only to see Ellie running on ahead. He’s infinitesimally too late to know what she’s seen.
What on earth was Max thinking? Has it not occurred to him – or to Eve, for that matter – that they have one shot at this, they have just one opportunity to make a good first impression on Ellie, to prove themselves a couple who aren’t destined to exclude her? Did he not imagine that she might see their embrace and that, if she did, she’d be heartbroken? Is his intoxication so inebriating that he can’t keep in mind just how hard this must be for Ellie?
Max and Eve, ignorant still as to the cause of Ellie’s marathon sprint towards the playground, hurry on behind her, laughing to one another about a joke I’m not privy to.
When they finally catch up with her, she’s already on the swings, motioning herself back and forth with a mechanical rhythm suggestive of someone lost in the depths of their own dark thoughts. Max calls over to her, catches her attention, and points to some benches at the far end of the playground, where he and Eve settle themselves, his arm around her shoulder, h
er hand on his thigh.
Keeping one eye firmly on Ellie, I join Max and Eve at the bench.
‘Well, I think it’s fair to say that this is going better than either of us expected. Are you okay?’
Max runs his fingers through the ends of Eve’s immaculate hair.
‘I think so. I can’t believe how nervous I was before you both arrived. I think it was worse than waiting to go for a job interview.’
‘I’m so sorry we were late. Totally my fault. Even after all this time I forget how long it takes to leave the house when you’ve got a child in tow.’
‘It’s fine, I didn’t mind at all. It might have been a blessing, actually. Gave me a few moments to take some deep breaths and stop my legs shaking quite so much.’
They exchange a mutually supportive smile, while I take a moment to check on Ellie. She’s still on the swing, still lost in her own thoughts.
‘As I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks now, you didn’t have anything to be worried about. There was never any chance that Ellie wasn’t going to like you. I can’t imagine how anyone could find anything to dislike about you. They’d have to be mad, or stupid, or both. And Ellie’s neither.’
Eve strokes Max’s thigh and my stomach churns at the sight of a gesture which seems so natural to them and yet now so alien to me.
‘It’s not really about whether Ellie likes me at this stage, though, is it? It’s about how she feels about you bringing anyone into her life. It must be so hard for her, even contemplating the thought of sharing you with someone else, even just for an afternoon.’
‘Eve, I really don’t want you to worry. Ellie knows how much I love her. And she’s a lot tougher than she looks.’
‘I’m sure you’re right. I just really feel for her. I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose your mum so young. It must be so unbearably hard on her. And I’ve no doubt there are going to be times when it’s even harder. Adolescence without her mum around isn’t going to be easy.’
The Dead Wife's Handbook Page 20
