‘Gone home to make himself gorgeous for his night out.’
‘I hope you don’t mind, Marianne,’ Helen said, coming back from the kitchen with the wine. ‘I didn’t really agree with him and Di going dancing tonight of all nights but Dot here insisted.’
‘Quite right too; there’s no point in them sitting around moping. Are you okay, darling?’ she added, as Andrew moved over and leaned against her knee.
He nodded.
‘Whiskey, Dot?’ Johnny said, going to the drinks cabinet.
‘Please, and make it a large one.’
Helen rolled her eyes dramatically as Johnny poured generous measures for himself and Dot. ‘Well, it looks as if I’m driving.’
‘Thanks, sweetheart.’ Johnny winked at her and then raised his glass. ‘To Dominic.’
‘To Dominic,’ they echoed.
‘Wherever he may be,’ Dot sighed.
‘He’s in heaven,’ Andrew said.
‘Of course he is, love. Come here and give your oul granny a hug.’
Andrew went to her and put sticky hands around her neck. ‘Are you sad?’ he asked, pulling away and touching her wet cheek.
‘A bit,’ she admitted, ‘but keep giving me hugs like that and I’ll be grand.’
He smiled and turned back to his mother. ‘Can I watch Ice Age, Mum?’
‘Yes, darling.’ He skipped ahead of her into the living room and after she’d settled him in front of his favourite movie, she returned to them.
‘Where’s Kate?’ Dot frowned.
‘She went home with Joanna; we thought some time with Rachel might do her good.’
‘She thinks too much for a child her age.’
‘Yes,’ Marianne agreed, systematically shredding a discarded stained napkin.
‘She will probably talk to Rachel, they seem close. As for that little fella,’ Helen nodded towards where Andrew lay sprawled on the floor in front of the television, ‘I think he’ll be just fine.’
‘They both will be,’ Johnny assured them.
‘Perhaps you should get away from here for a couple of weeks,’ Helen suggested. ‘A holiday would do you all good.’
Marianne shook her head. ‘No, I’d prefer to get the children back into a normal routine; they have to get used to life without their dad.’
‘I think that you’re probably right,’ Johnny agreed, ‘and time will do the rest.’
‘The great thing about being young,’ Dot said, looking wistful. ‘You just vomit up your grief and get on with it.’
Johnny chuckled. ‘You have a way with words, Dot.’
‘You two are exhausted,’ Helen said, meeting Marianne’s eyes. ‘We’ll go and let you get to bed.’
‘It’s been a long day,’ Marianne said, thinking how Dot seemed to have shrunk before her eyes these last few days.
‘I am tired,’ Dot admitted, ‘but I doubt I’ll sleep.’
‘Still, my lady wife is right. We’d better make tracks.’ Johnny kissed Dot’s cheek and hugged Marianne. ‘If you need us, just say the word.’
‘I will,’ she promised before turning to embrace her friend. ‘Helen, I don’t know how to thank you for everything. The food, drinks . . .’
‘Not another word,’ Helen said as she bent to embrace Dot. ‘Goodnight, Dot. I’ll call you in the morning, Marianne.’
‘You’re an angel.’ After she had seen them to the door, Marianne returned and put a hand on Dot’s shoulder. ‘Why don’t you go to bed?’
‘Soon.’
‘Bedtime, Andrew.’
‘But I want to stay up with you and Granny,’ her son protested.
‘We’ll be going up soon, darling. Now, say goodnight to Granny.’
‘Night.’ He flung himself into Dot’s arms.
‘Night night, sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite.’
He sped off and Marianne hesitated as she saw that Dot’s eyes were full of tears again. ‘Oh, Dot . . .’ she started.
‘I’m fine, Marianne.’ Dot waved her away and Marianne followed her son upstairs.
‘Mummy, Daddy is in heaven, isn’t he?’
Marianne put the book back on the shelf and stretched out beside her son on the narrow bed. ‘Yes, darling, of course he is.’
‘Granny says everyone is happy in heaven but . . .’ his eyes clouded over, ‘I won’t be able to see him any more, will I? Not unless I die too and I don’t want to die.’
His face crumpled, and gulping back her own tears, Marianne pulled him into her arms. ‘You’re not going to die, sweetie, not until you are very, very, very old.’
‘Daddy wasn’t very, very, very old so why did he die?’
Marianne looked into the open, innocent face and wondered how she could explain it in words that would make sense and yet not scare him. ‘Sometimes Holy God needs more angels,’ she began slowly, ‘and when He does, He takes very special people up to heaven a little bit early because they are perfect for the job.’
‘So Daddy’s going to be an angel?’ Andrew whispered, his eyes round.
‘Yes, sweetie, I think maybe he is.’
He considered this for a moment. ‘I’m still going to miss him.’
‘Of course you are, but do you remember what Granny says about angels?’
‘That they look after us.’
‘That’s right.’ She smiled, relieved; this was going better than she’d expected.
‘Maybe God will make him my Guardian Angel,’ he said excitedly. ‘That would be cool!’
‘It would be very cool. Now, baby, time you were asleep.’
‘Will you leave the light on?’
‘Of course.’ She kissed his forehead, tucked him in and turned to leave.
‘Mummy?’
‘Yes?’
‘I think you’re very special; Holy God isn’t going to take you up to be an angel too, is He?’ he asked in a small voice.
‘Absolutely not,’ she said firmly. ‘My job is to stay right here and look after you and Kate.’
‘Good. I wouldn’t like Him any more if He did that, I don’t care what Granny says.’
‘It’s not going to happen, Andrew, I promise.’
‘Okay, night,’ and, clutching his teddy a little bit tighter, he closed his eyes.
As she came out on to the landing, Dot was climbing the stairs.
‘Is he asleep?’
‘Yes. He wanted to know why his daddy died so young. I told him God needed an angel.’ Marianne rolled her eyes.
‘You did the right thing, though calling my Dominic an angel is a bit of a stretch,’ Dot joked, though there was no humour in her eyes. ‘You did him proud today and that’s a lot more than he deserved.’
‘It was important for the children. I can’t believe it’s over, that he’s gone.’
‘Well, he is,’ Dot’s voice shook slightly. ‘I suppose I may as well move out.’
Marianne stared at her. ‘Why on earth would you do that?’
‘This is your chance to start a new life, darlin’; you don’t want me cramping your style.’
Marianne leaned against the banister and crossed her arms. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, Dot: you’re part of this family.’
‘That’s a lovely thing to say but—’
‘But nothing. Apart from the fact that you’re the children’s only other relative, don’t you realize you are the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother?’
‘Oh, Marianne, what a lovely thing to say!’ Dot grasped her hand and smiled. ‘I must be honest, I’d hate to go; I’d be lost without the three of you.’
‘And we’d be lost without you.’ Marianne hugged her. ‘Now, let’s get some rest; it may be late but that young fella will be jumping on us at dawn.’
Marianne lay in bed and thought back over the day. It seemed so surreal and she found it hard to get to grips with the fact that Dominic was gone for good. She felt some guilt at her lack of emotion, but then the man she had loved – the funny guy, the good
friend, the doting dad – had died some time ago. Of course Helen and Jo knew the truth. Though the three women were very different, their shared history had resulted in a bond that the years hadn’t weakened. So she hadn’t been able to hide what was going on from them. They had seen the change in Dominic – and in her, and had wrested the truth from her, although not all of it. Her eyes went to the dent in the bedroom door that fresh paint couldn’t quite hide, where he’d thrown her against it. She turned on her side and studied the faded blood stain on the carpet by the bed from the time when Dominic had flown into a rage over some imagined slight and slammed the drawer of the bedside table on her finger; it had poured blood and she’d lost the nail. Sometimes Dominic had been remorseful afterwards but there were occasions when he didn’t remember having attacked her, asking in all innocence and with some degree of concern, how she had hurt herself.
She’d hidden as much as she could from her friends. She knew Helen would have urged her to leave him or throw him out but she couldn’t have done it no matter how much she’d wanted to. But now it was over. Now he was gone and she was free to live her life without looking over her shoulder. And with that thought in mind, Marianne turned off the lamp and fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.
‘Johnny, are you awake?’
‘How could I be otherwise? You haven’t stopped fidgeting and sighing since we came to bed.’
Helen turned over yet again and pushed the duvet down a bit. ‘I’m sorry but it’s hardly surprising; my best friend buried her husband today.’
‘At least he was dead,’ Johnny muttered into the pillow.
‘That’s sick.’ Helen poked him with her elbow.
‘It was a joke. Look, sweetheart, it’s been a long day, get some sleep.’
Helen turned back around to face him. ‘I can’t stop thinking about Marianne and those poor little kiddies.’
He stroked her arm. ‘They’ll be fine and your worrying about them won’t help. Whatever lies ahead, won’t we be there for her?’
‘Yes, we will. You’ve been great this week, Johnny, I’m really grateful.’
‘How grateful?’ he asked, with a sly grin.
‘I thought you were tired . . .’ she retorted as he ran his fingers down the curve of her body until they came in contact with the bare skin of her thigh, making her shiver.
‘I’m never too tired for you, darling.’
Chapter Two
Kate spooned cereal into her mouth. She wasn’t hungry and hated cornflakes but if she didn’t eat, Aunty Jo would tell Mummy and then Mummy would worry and try to talk to her again. She was beginning to dread their little chats.
‘Why do you think you are so restless at night? Are you having nightmares? Do you want to talk about Daddy?’ she would ask.
‘No, no, no,’ Kate felt like screaming. ‘I don’t want to talk about Daddy. I just want everything to go back to the way it was.’
She’d been having nightmares ever since that night last week when she’d been woken by voices downstairs. She’d crept halfway down to find her granny in tears in her mother’s arms as two policemen told them that Daddy had collapsed in a restaurant and died before the ambulance had arrived. It couldn’t be true. Her dad was big and strong, well, except for the headaches and the times when he got angry. It scared her when he got mad – it had scared Andrew a lot – but Granny could usually calm him down. Mummy just left the room or took them out for a walk or a drive and by the time they came home, he was usually okay again or had gone to bed. Granny said he got cross because the headaches really hurt him and only rest made them go away. They had to creep around the house when he was resting but Kate had never minded that because he would be happy and funny again when he woke up and sometimes he even played with them.
But now he was dead and she’d never see him again. Even though she’d seen that horrible box being lowered into the grave with her own eyes, she still couldn’t believe it. She’d tried really hard to hold in her tears because it seemed to upset everyone when she cried.
‘Are you all right, Kate?’
She smiled and nodded at Aunty Jo who was looking at her with worried eyes. She liked Aunty Jo; she was so kind and gentle.
‘Rachel, elbows off the table.’ Uncle Greg frowned over his glasses at his daughter before returning his attention to the newspaper.
The comment caught Kate’s attention; wasn’t reading the paper at the table worse manners than having your elbows on it? In her house, the only rule at mealtimes was that you weren’t allowed to talk with your mouth full, which was fine with her as she loved to sit and listen to Granny tell her stories. Granny Dot had millions of stories and they were all hilarious. Andrew always wanted the ones about Daddy when he was little but Granny was too sad to tell them now. Kate could always tell when Granny was fed up ’cos she got a line right across the centre of her forehead and the sparkle went out of her eyes. Granny had lovely eyes. They were a strange bluey-green, like the sea in that painting in the principal’s office, and shone with mischief when she told them rude stories. Mummy always gave out to her but Kate knew she wasn’t really cross as she always ended up laughing too.
But it would all be different now. Still, no matter how much they’d miss Daddy, Kate figured breakfast at her house would always be more fun than at Rachel’s.
Di appeared, looking pale and tired and Uncle Greg started on her before she’d even sat down.
‘What time did you get in?’
‘Ten past one.’
‘I told you to leave at twelve.’
‘But you said I wasn’t to walk home alone,’ she reminded him, ‘and no one else would leave until it was over.’
‘You shouldn’t have gone out at all last night, bloody disrespectful—’
‘Dad wouldn’t mind,’ Kate blurted out, feeling sorry for Di.
Uncle Greg ignored her. ‘And I don’t want to see you wearing that muck on your eyes any more or you’ll be eighteen before you go out again.’
Di opened her mouth to protest but her mother gave her a look as she set a bowl of cornflakes in front of her. ‘Eat your breakfast, love.’
‘I thought you looked really pretty last night.’ Kate figured that if anyone could get away with being cheeky it had to be a kid whose daddy had just died. She smirked inwardly knowing her father would approve. He’d never liked Rachel’s daddy, always called him Greg-grudge, or G.G for short.
‘He hates people being happy; begrudges anyone the slightest bit of good luck,’ he’d said. Mummy had defended Uncle Greg but Kate had seen her smile at the nickname.
‘She looked like a little tart,’ he muttered now.
‘Greg!’ Aunty Jo said, looking cross.
‘Well, I’m sorry but she did.’ He folded his newspaper, pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘Time one of us did some work. Don’t forget to leave my suit with the dry-cleaners, Jo; Di, cut the grass, and Rachel,’ his eyes softened a little when he looked at his youngest daughter, ‘behave yourself and look after your friend.’
He gave Kate an awkward pat on the shoulder as he passed and she felt guilty; maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.
‘And for God’s sake, Jo, try and cook something edible for dinner tonight.’
Or maybe he was; wait till she told Daddy— Kate pulled up short as she remembered she wouldn’t be able to tell him; she wouldn’t be able to talk to him ever again. He was gone. He was dead.
‘Kate?’
She looked over to see Rachel staring at her, her eyes wide with shock, and realized that she was crying. Not quietly but in loud, gut-wrenching wails and though Kate really did try, she couldn’t seem to stop.
‘Go and brush your teeth,’ Aunty Jo told her daughters before crouching down and gathering her into her arms. Kate bawled like a baby, her whole body shuddering and shaking.
Finally, feeling drained and embarrassed, she pulled away and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry, love; why wouldn’t
you be sad, you poor thing?’
Kate felt the tears start to well up again. ‘I need to use the bathroom,’ she said, pushing back her chair and fleeing upstairs to the loo where she locked the door and let the tears flow. When the shudders had reduced to hiccups she went to the sink and washed her face. She looked in the mirror; her eyes were all puffy and bloodshot. Mummy and Granny would know the minute they saw her that she’d been crying. Feeling even more miserable she opened the door to find Rachel sitting on the ground outside waiting for her.
‘You okay?’ Her friend scrambled to her feet and looked at her with large anxious eyes.
‘Yeah, fine, sorry.’ Kate sniffed.
‘That’s okay. Will we go outside?’
Kate shook her head. ‘No, I think I should go.’
‘You don’t have to. You can stay the whole day if you want to; Mummy said so.’
‘Sorry, Rachel, but I want to go home.’
Rachel hugged her. ‘I’ll go and tell Mummy.’
‘The poor child was a mess.’ Jo sat down on the stairs as she talked to Helen and cringed as she noticed the window beside the hall door badly needed cleaning; she’d see to it as soon as she’d finished the call.
‘Well, it’s hardly surprising,’ Helen was saying. ‘Imagine, that was the first funeral those poor children had been to and it was their dad’s. Still, maybe they’re all better off without him.’
‘They probably are and I can’t help thinking that Marianne is still young; maybe some day she’ll meet someone else.’
‘Do you think she’d want to marry again?’ Helen asked. ‘I’d have thought that the last couple of years would have put her off men for life.’
‘Still, life is easier if you have a partner,’ Jo insisted. Despite Greg’s shortcomings, being Mrs Buckley made her feel safe. The very thought of being alone in the world again made her shudder.
‘I suppose that’s true. I know a woman whose husband left her and people just dropped her because she was the odd one out.’
‘That’s terrible!’
‘Well, I think they did it for her sake; it was hard for her being surrounded by couples and what’s the alternative, set her up with a blind date?’
Every Time We Say Goodbye Page 2
