by Dani Atkins
One minute he was listening to Lisa’s heart, and the next his lips were on mine, searching for something he was never going to find. God help me, but for just a moment I began to respond, before the good sense I’d so carelessly abandoned came rushing back.
My hands were on his shoulders again, only this time they were pushing him away.
‘No, Alex. No.’
His eyes were glazed, and not just with tears as he backed away from me. If anything, he looked even more horrified than I did.
‘Molly… I… I didn’t mean…’
My arms were flapping like wings that were incapable of flight. I also took a step backwards, and then another until I felt the edge of the settee against my legs.
‘It was completely my fault,’ I said, which I think we both knew wasn’t quite true.
‘I didn’t think it was… What I mean is… I knew it was you.’
We stared at each other for a very long moment, neither of us sure if his words had made things better or a great deal worse.
‘I think you should leave now,’ I said, and he nodded vigorously in agreement.
I followed him to the front door, where he paused, searching for yet another apology. He shook his head, tormented that he’d failed to find one.
‘Goodnight, Alex,’ I said, opening the door and praying he’d walk through it before I began to cry and this heart I’d been given broke in two.
He did so with only seconds to spare.
27
Alex
The previous evening kept coming back to Alex in snatched images, like random photographs shaken out of an album; disjointed scenes from a dream. Although ironically there’d been no dreams, because there’d been no sleep for him after he’d returned from Molly’s house. Long before dawn had even thought about breaking, he’d thrown back the covers and swung himself out of bed.
By 6 a.m. he was in the sports centre car park, drinking his third coffee of the morning and waiting for the flicker of fluorescent lighting to confirm they were open for business. He’d never been the first person at the gym before, and there was an eerie quality to the rows of silent machines and the hollow acoustics of the changing room.
Alex pushed himself harder than usual, hoping that a vigorous workout might purge all memory of the previous evening from his system. Not the whole evening, just the parts of it when he’d behaved like an idiot. His face felt hot, which might have been due to the session on the rowing machine, or maybe it was the indelible stain of embarrassment on his cheeks.
He stood under the needle-sharp shower jets, slowly turning the dial from steam-inducing ‘hot’ to breath-stealing ‘cold’. There were more people around by the time he stepped out of the cubicle, and the low hum of conversation in the locker room felt as noisy as a roaring crowd.
He dressed rapidly and considered his options. He wasn’t due to pick up Connor from Todd’s until ten o’clock, which was still two hours away. He toyed with the idea of going to the office and burying his emotions with work, as he’d done so many times since losing Lisa. But that would only delay the inevitable. Confession was good for the soul, or so they said, and there was only one place Alex’s soul wanted to be.
He jogged to the car, his trainers creating small avalanches of gravel in their wake. The smell of Molly’s perfume hit him as he opened the driver’s door. Not strong, like Lisa’s had been on his suit, but vague and lingering, as if trapped in the air-conditioning system. He had no idea if that was even possible. It was far more likely to be his guilt conjuring up the smell. An olfactory I-told-you-so, which he should have heeded. But how could he have known how tangled all this would become? Perhaps you should have listened to your brother, his conscience reminded him.
The throaty purr of the idling engine sounded like a cat, which immediately made Alex think of Barbara. His senses had become traitors, leapfrogging over logic and linking everything, however tenuously, to the people Lisa had saved.
He left the sports centre car park at speed, sending up further sprays of gravel as his hands gripped the steering wheel too tightly.
Part of him wanted the huge wrought-iron gates to be locked, because that would have given him a legitimate excuse to go no further. But that was a coward’s way out, and Lisa deserved far better than that. Far better than him – but then he’d always known that. He lifted the latch and the gate creaked open. He almost laughed at the cliché, as though it had been dubbed in by an enthusiastic sound engineer. Even the knee-high ground mist he waded through looked like it had been pumped out by a special-effects department.
Not that Alex needed to see the path to know where it curved and turned. His feet had walked this route enough times to find their own way to the place where Lisa lay. He came to see her often, and always alone; this was no place for Connor, not until he was much older. It was a decision he knew Todd and Dee disagreed with, but on this he was unwavering.
The sky was almost light now, but darkness hung in this place in quiet pockets, perhaps out of respect for its inhabitants. Each time Alex saw the simple white headstone, the truth of it hit him all over again. Here there was no pretending Lisa was simply away on a holiday, or visiting friends or even that they were going through a trial separation. Here the truth was bald, stark and unyielding, and etched into marble lest he forget it.
An odd liquefying sensation attacked the bones in his knees as he sank down onto the muddy grass. His fingertips felt cold as he brought them to his lips and then pressed them gently against her name.
‘Hi, babe. It’s me. I think I might have got myself into a bit of trouble…’
*
‘What happened to you?’ Dee asked, opening the door to him a few minutes before ten o’clock.
Alex glanced down at the mud-caked patches on the knees of his jeans. ‘Oh, I tripped over on the verge,’ he said. Dee was astute and an early morning visit to Lisa’s grave would immediately have set off alarm bells.
‘Actually, I meant the panda look.’ She stepped back to allow him access to their hallway.
Alex glanced at his reflection in the oak-framed mirror on the wall and wished he hadn’t. ‘I didn’t sleep well last night,’ he admitted.
A barefoot Connor had padded out of the kitchen at the sound of the front door, and Alex caught the fleeting look of relief in his son’s eyes when he saw it was him. It broke his heart to think that in Connor’s mind every single goodbye might be the very last one. The way it had been with his mum.
‘Got time for a coffee?’ Dee asked breezily, already heading towards the bright and welcoming kitchen. ‘Todd might even have left you a Danish if you’re lucky.’
Alex felt a lot of things that day, but in all honesty lucky wasn’t one of them.
‘Was everything all right when you drove Molly back home last night?’
Dee timed her question badly. Alex had a mouth full of apricots and pastry, which gave him some valuable thinking time as he pantomimed chewing away.
‘What do you mean by that?’
Dee’s eyes went to the two children, who were playing a board game beside the patio doors. They appeared totally disinterested in their parents’ conversation.
‘Oh. Nothing. It’s just… a kind of weird situation, you know. You seem… You seem to like her.’
This time it was Alex’s eyes that flew to the children. Had Connor heard his aunt’s words? He had his back to Alex, so it was impossible to tell, but there was an odd stillness about his small frame, as though he was waiting for Alex’s reply.
‘I do like her. I like her in the same way that I like Barbara, Jamie and Mac.’ The lie tasted bitter, contrasting with the sweetness of the apricot on his tongue.
Dee’s eyes said she didn’t believe him, but she shrugged, giving him the benefit of the doubt. Her voice was low, travelling no further than Alex’s ears. ‘Just promise me you’ll be careful, Alex. I’m worried the lines are getting blurry here.’
‘Not even for a moment,’ Alex reassured he
r. The lies were piling up. Pretty soon there were going to be too many to count.
*
‘Aren’t we going home?’
‘We’re just taking a little detour to buy some flowers,’ Alex explained, keeping half an eye on the road and the other on his son’s face in the rear-view mirror.
‘Are they for Molly?’
Alex crunched the gears noisily, like a learner on their first lesson. So Connor had heard what Dee had said, after all.
‘Why would I give Molly flowers?’
Connor gave an eloquent shrug. ‘I dunno. You used to give them to Mummy all the time.’
‘That was different,’ Alex said, swallowing down a tightness that ran from his throat to his chest. ‘I loved Mummy, and it made her happy to get flowers, so that’s why I gave them to her.’
‘Don’t you want Molly to be happy?’
Alex was seriously going to have to start limiting the time Connor spent with Dee, because he appeared to be picking up all her best interrogation techniques.
‘Yes, I want everyone in the world to be happy,’ Alex replied, aware he sounded an awful lot like a beauty pageant contestant.
‘Molly’s nice,’ Connor said, lifting his eyes to the mirror to meet his dad’s. ‘She’s like Mummy.’
Every book Alex had read, every internet article, every podcast on cellular memory had somehow been leading him to this point. But they had reached it too soon. Connor was trying to unlock a door that no one was ready to open yet.
‘The flowers are for Barbara,’ Alex said firmly. ‘They’re to say thank you for looking after you last night.’
*
‘More flowers? Oh, Alex, you shouldn’t have. But my, aren’t they beautiful?’
‘Connor picked them out,’ he said, gently urging the little boy forward to surrender the bouquet.
Barbara took the flowers, setting them to one side as she held her arms open for Connor. In a move that surprised Alex, his son allowed himself to be momentarily buried against Barbara’s not inconsiderable bosom. That was definitely something new. Even before what had happened with Lisa, Connor had always been reticent about showing affection with anyone outside of his immediate family.
‘Well, I’m feeling doubly spoiled this morning – you’re my second visitors of the day.’
‘Oh, we definitely don’t want to intrude,’ began Alex when Barbara stood back to usher them into the hallway.
‘Nonsense. Anyway, you know my other guest just as well as I do.’
Molly, thought Alex. She’d said something the night before about how lonely Barbara must be, and how she was going to try to pop round to see her more often. What were the odds of them both deciding to do so today?
Having delivered the flowers and received the hug, Connor was now hanging back, half hidden by Alex’s legs. Years ago Lisa had patiently coaxed him out of this nervous habit, though lately it had made an unwelcome return. But a strange mewling sound coming from the lounge saw him emerge from behind Alex’s hip. ‘What was that?’ he asked curiously.
Barbara’s eyes twinkled, as though everything was going exactly the way she had intended. ‘That’s the kittens you can hear,’ she said, bending down and holding out her hand in invitation. ‘Would you like to see them?’
Connor disappeared down the hallway at speed, taking with him any hope Alex had of avoiding an awkward encounter with Molly.
‘Are they Meg’s kittens?’ he asked, pleased with himself for remembering the cat’s name.
It seemed to please Barbara too. She gave a nod as though Alex had passed a test he hadn’t even known he was sitting.
‘They are. Six little beauties. Come and meet them.’
Alex pasted what he hoped was an appropriate smile on his face and prepared to encounter the woman he’d left in tears twelve hours ago.
But the voice that greeted him wasn’t that of the person whose lips he had briefly crushed beneath his own. It was Jamie’s.
He was sitting cross-legged on the floor beside an array of polystyrene packing and several TV remote controls.
‘Oh, you’ve got it working already. You’re such a clever young man, Jamie.’
Jamie got fluidly to his feet, in a way Alex remembered his limbs had also once been capable of, back in his teens and twenties. ‘Hi, guys,’ he said, holding his hand out not to Alex but to Connor.
Alex’s eyes widened as the two performed a complicated fist-bumping, high-fiving, slapping routine.
‘You remembered it,’ cried Jamie, clearly delighted.
Connor was smiling as he turned away from his friend and dropped to his knees before a cage in the corner of the room. Barbara crouched down beside him, identifying each fluffy bundle to an entranced Connor.
Alex turned back to Jamie, who was gathering up the polystyrene scattered across the floor and bundling it up in the box the television had come in. ‘This was nice of you,’ he said, hoping he didn’t sound patronising.
Jamie didn’t appear to take offence. ‘She said she bought it weeks ago but had no one she could ask to set it up for her. That made me kind of sad.’
Both men looked across at Barbara, who was patiently explaining to Connor how the kittens needed to stay with their mother in their cage for now.
‘So she can look after them,’ Connor said solemnly.
‘That’s right, sweetie. When they’re a little bit older they won’t need her any more.’
Connor shook his head, his jaw stubbornly set. ‘They’re always going to need their Mummy,’ he contradicted.
Barbara brought a wrinkled hand to her face and brushed a tear from her cheek. She wasn’t the only one, Alex realised. Jamie quickly bent his head to study the TV instruction leaflet, even though he was done setting it up.
‘Would you like to hold them, Connor?’ Barbara asked, her voice gentle.
The little boy’s eyes flew to Alex, as if already preparing to be disappointed. It’s what he expects from me, Alex thought sadly.
‘I don’t know, Barbara. Connor’s not used to handling pets and they’re very young and delicate.’
‘He’ll be fine with them,’ Barbara said, drawing back the catch on the cage before Alex had a chance to raise any further objection. She positioned Connor’s hands to form a tiny cradle and then placed a pure white kitten within them.
She watched them for a while, before getting to her feet. ‘I think a cup of tea is in order,’ she announced, disappearing off to the kitchen.
‘That’ll be my fourth; I’ll be peeing on the bus all the way home,’ Jamie joked.
‘Still not driving yet?’
For a few seconds Jamie looked totally confused, and then he remembered what he’d previously told them. Alex felt an unexpected surge of compassion for him. It must have been exhausting trying to stay on top of so many fabricated stories.
Alex and Connor ended up staying far longer than they’d intended, mainly because Connor looked happier than Alex had seen him in ages as he played with each of Meg’s kittens in turn. He couldn’t help noticing that he kept returning to the one that Barbara had first placed in his hands, the little white moggy.
‘Looks like you’ll be getting a new family member, mate,’ Jamie teased quietly, watching as Connor crooned reassuringly to the kitten.
‘No, I don’t think so. We’ve got enough to cope with right now. We don’t need to add to the things we have to worry about. Maybe when Connor is a few years older we’ll think about getting a dog.’
Barbara said nothing, but Alex was very aware of her watching him carefully over the rim of her teacup.
When he announced it was time to leave, Connor’s shoulders slumped dejectedly.
‘I’m sure Barbara will let us come back and see the kittens again,’ he said.
‘Any time at all. You’re always welcome. All of you,’ Barbara said.
‘Can I offer you a lift home, Jamie?’
For just a split second a look of panic flashed across Jamie’s face. ‘E
rm, thanks, but I’m meeting some friends for a game of footie in the park in a while.’
Jamie didn’t look as though he was dressed for a sporting afternoon, and he certainly didn’t have a kit bag with him, but Alex had no intention of calling him out on it. ‘Is football your sport?’ he asked, gamely going along with the pretence.
‘Well, that and swimming,’ he said, getting to his feet and swiping the last two chocolate digestives off the plate. ‘I was a lifeguard before I got sick. Saved two people from drowning, actually. Got a medal and everything.’
Connor was the only person in the lounge who looked as though they totally believed what they’d just been told. He was gazing at Jamie as if he was a Marvel superhero.
‘Can you swim, little man?’ asked Jamie.
Connor shook his head from side to side.
‘Connor’s always been a bit nervous around water. We were going to sign him up for lessons last summer…’ Alex’s voice trailed away. It was yet another of Lisa’s plans he had failed to follow through on. Next summer, he silently promised himself.
28
Molly
‘I hate to say this, but maybe Bertie should go on a diet.’
‘Shhh,’ said my mother, covering the terrier’s ears with her hands. ‘Please do not even think of using the F-word in front of him.’ My mother’s devotion to the feisty little terrier never ceased to surprise me. In her own way she was every bit as attached to her canine companion as Barbara was to her cats.
The house was fragrant with the aroma of roasting chicken, which Bertie’s twitching nose had clearly clocked. Mum always went a little overboard when I visited, but I knew better than to tell her I’d be just as happy with a sandwich. When the oven timer pinged, Mum disappeared into the kitchen, firmly refusing my offer of help. ‘You just sit down and take it easy,’ she urged, still unable to totally let go of the past, when I’d been largely incapable of assisting her.
