‘I will.’
‘Promise?’
‘I promise. Thank you, Mummy. I love you.’
‘I love you too, sweetie. Let’s go brush your teeth and round up your sister.’
Beatrice would take the girls to school and when she handed over the toadstool costume to Sadie’s teacher, she’d have a quick word with her. Beatrice’s gut feeling was that Sadie probablywasa bit off-colour today but not unwell enough to be kept off school, and that anxiety at being onstage wasn’t helping. Even though Beatrice was looking forward to seeing Sadie in the school play this afternoon and she would feel immensely proud of her daughter, a part of her would be relieved when this was over.
Mark didn’t relish being the guest of honour at Picklewick Primary’s Christmas play, but he was quite looking forward to seeing Sadie in her costume. After persuading her to take part, he felt he had a vested interest; besides, it was kind of nice to feel part of the community he would soon be living in. He was quite excited to throw himself into village life, even if that involved helping to clear snowy paths.
As he sat next to the school’s Chair of Governors in pride of place in the front row, Mark ran his thumb across the fading callouses on his palm, remembering the feel of the shovel in his hands. It had been a while since he’d done manual labour, but he hadn’t minded it, not if it meant he’d got to spend time with Beatrice. Deciding it would be better not to dwell on what had happened afterwards (as wonderful as it had been, this was neither the time nor the place for thoughts like that) Mark focused his attention on his surroundings.
The hall was filling up with parents, grandparents and younger siblings – those little ones who had yet to start school – and the noise was steadily building. He glanced around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Beatrice, but caught Lisa’s eye instead. Giving him a wide smile, she pointed to her right and mouthed, ‘Over there.’
Nodding to show he understood, Mark looked over his shoulder.
There she was, three rows back and looking so beautiful that she took his breath away. Beatrice was sitting next to her parents, but there was an empty seat beside her and when a man tapped her on the shoulder and sat down in it, Mark guessed that the bloke was Eric.
He stared at him, consumed by curiosity, but looked away when he saw that Beatrice had noticed. The last thing he wantedwas to make her feel awkward or to draw attention to her. Or himself, for that matter.
The chatter subsided when a line of children was ushered into the hall accompanied by a teacher, filing in one by one to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of the stage. Taya was amongst them, and he smiled. Her lips twitched in response, broadening into a wide beaming smile when she spotted her parents. Ruefully, Mark realised he had a while to go yet before he won Taya over. She was understandably wary of him, and he could fully respect that. He hoped that in time she would come to accept him.
The headteacher called for silence, and when she was happy that the audience was paying attention, a small boy walked self-consciously onto the stage and read out an introduction in a faltering voice.
Mark settled back in his seat to enjoy the show. There was something incredibly sweet about the way the children threw themselves into their parts, despite clearly being nervous. The lead fairy was adorable, and he could see Sadie watching her, a frown on her little face. It seemed to him that she hadn’t fully embraced being a toadstool and was still coveting the fairy role.
The toadstools had just shuffled into position in a semi-circle around the fairies, who were singing a song at full volume and mostly out of tune, when Sadie fell over.
Expecting her to get back on her feet, it took Mark a moment to realise she wasn’t moving.
There was an abrupt silence as the headteacher hurried forward and bent down to check on her, then straightened up, her face ashen.
The next few minutes were a blur, and Mark could only watch helplessly as Beatrice leapt onto the stage to scoop her small daughter into her arms. The terrified expression on her face pierced his heart and he made to go to her, but Lisa grabbed hold of his arm and he realised Eric was there.
He heard someone say, ‘Call an ambulance,’ but Eric shook his head.
Taking Sadie from Beatrice, he said, ‘It’ll be quicker by car.’
Mark watched him carry his limp and lifeless daughter out of the hall, Beatrice by his side, shouting, ‘Mum, look after Taya!’
Then she was gone. And all Mark could do was pray.
CHAPTER NINE
‘You should go home and rest, I’ll stay with her,’ Eric whispered, and Beatrice opened her eyes to see her ex-husband standing by Sadie’s bed.
Her gaze flew to her sleeping daughter, tiny and pale, a needle in the back of her little hand, and she gulped back fresh tears. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here.’ She kept her voice low, so as not to disturb the other patients on the ward.
‘You’ll be no good to her if you make yourself ill.’
‘You’ve been here all night too,’ she pointed out.
He shrugged. ‘I’m used to it.’
‘She will be alright, won’t she?’
‘She will, I promise.’
