I look up as I pass George’s house, and come to a dead stop when I see Archie himself walking towards me. He is holding two take-out coffees from the café, and stares at me in surprise as we meet.
“Great minds thinking alike?” I say, holding up the box of pastries. He looks tired, his eyes sore, his hair sticking up in every direction. He smiles, and replies: “I guess so. George is with the girls, and I thought I’d call round and see you.”
“How’s Lilly?” I ask, as we walk automatically towards the beach. Neither of us says anything; it’s just where our feet seem to take us.
“She’s okay,” he says firmly. “Bit sorry for herself, but also quite proud of all her war wounds. I suspect she’ll be dining out on the fuss for quite a while.”
“I still have a very faint scar on my knee from when I took a spectacular fall across the playground when I was about her age…one of those that got loads of gravel in it and took ages to clean. I was absolutely delighted with it once the shock had passed. Got a sweet from the school nurse and everything.”
What I don’t say is that it happened just after my dad had died, when things were getting really bad at home. I think I enjoyed the fuss because someone was actually paying me some attention – and the sweets didn’t hurt either.
We walk together down the terraced steps, and take up our traditional place on the bottom stair. This is starting to feel like my office, I’ve spent so much time here. I gaze out ahead of me, thinking that even on a grey day like this, the view is irresistible. To infinity, and most definitely beyond.
Once we’re settled, and we’ve exchanged coffee and pastry, we are both silent for a few moments. We have shared many silences, me and this man, and they have always felt comfortable – but this one does not. This one feels ominous, and eventually I can’t stand it any more – I am so tense that I’ve not even touched my pain au chocolat.
“So,” I say, staring out at the sea. “I’m guessing that we need to have a conversation, don’t we?”
“Yes. I guess we do. We always promised that whatever happened, we’d be completely honest with each other. That both of us would always be open. And last night…I wasn’t. I was upset, and I was trying to hide it, because that made sense at the time. I needed to sleep on things, to think stuff over.”
I nod, and accept the truth of that.
“I hate to break it to you, Archie, but you didn’t do a very good job of hiding it…but that’s okay. I understand. So, let’s be having it, then – how are you feeling this morning? And please don’t hold back – like you said, we promised to be honest. We’re both old enough and ugly enough to know there’s no point in anything else.”
He smiles, but it isn’t a happy sight. He sips his coffee, and is obviously thinking deeply about how to say whatever it is he has to say.
“I know,” he replies. “But this isn’t easy, is it? The last few weeks, in fact ever since you got here, even from that very first night, have been amazing. I’ve felt so different. More alive. I know the others have noticed it too. But last night…well, look what happened. I was away when she needed me. I was thinking about what I needed, not what she needed. What could go wrong.”
“You do know, don’t you,” I answer gently, “that you can’t be there for them twenty-four hours a day? There will always be things you miss – much as we try, we can’t be their safety net all the time. I understand that feeling – the need to protect them, the urge to sacrifice everything of yourself to keep them safe and happy. Believe me, I do – but you can’t blame yourself for wanting a night off. For wanting something for you.”
Even as I say this, I realise that if someone had given me the same speech a few years ago, I would have nodded politely, and dismissed it as nonsense. I had my mum to look after, a child to raise, and that was one hundred per cent the whole point of my existence. Anything else was just noise, interference, distraction. I had to be like that to survive it all.
“I do know, Cally – you’re completely right. And this was just a little thing, a tumble from a tree that had no consequences – other than making me stop, making me pause, making me think about everything. I don’t know…since we got involved with each other, I haven’t been doing a lot of thinking. And that’s been great – but it’s not something that can go on forever. I have responsibilities that I can’t shirk – that I don’t want to shirk. I’m a dad, and that always has to come first. I know you understand that.”
I do, of course – I totally understand it. Logic dictates that he can be both a loving and caring dad, and have a life outside his girls – but this isn’t about logic. This is about what he feels he needs to do for the best. I also know that there is more to it than the tumble from the tree.
“Okay. I do understand, Archie, I really do. But I have to ask…is it about more than that? It’s not just that you weren’t here, is it – or that it’s made you think. It’s what happened afterwards.”
“Yeah. It is. When Lilly asked you to read a story to her…well, there was all kinds of stuff going on in my head, some of which I’m not especially proud of. I felt a bit hurt, even a bit jealous if I’m honest. Not very noble, but there it is. I suppose, though, after that – when I was lying in bed turning it all over – it also made me realise that almost by accident, we’ve gotten in too deep, too quickly. You’ve become part of our lives in ways I never imagined, and in ways that scare me – because you’re leaving soon, you’re going back to your real life, and we’ll be left here with ours. That’s fine for me – I always knew it was going to happen, and I knew I’d miss you, but I also knew what I was signing up for. They don’t. Those girls have already lost one mum, and…well, I can’t let them lose another.”
My eyes widen at this, and I feel a little rush of anger. I know he doesn’t mean to hurt me, to blame me in any way, but I still feel the sting.
“Archie, I never tried to be their mum!” I say. “That’s not really fair.”
“I know. I know it’s not fair, but it’s what I feel. I know you haven’ttriedto be their mum – but let’s face it, Cally, you’re a natural. All your instincts towards them are kind and protective and caring, and they’ve picked up on that, even if they don’t understand quite why. It’s happening, whether we wanted it to or not – and it’s too much. I don’t think we can carry on like we have, because we come as a package deal, me and those girls, and my first job has got to be to keep them safe – in every way.”
I am silent for a moment, looking back on the very first time I met Lilly. Taking her to the loo, talking to her about her hair. Building snowmen. Getting tours of their bedrooms. Doing their braids. Wrapping their Christmas gifts. The simple joy of reading that bed-time story, and watching them fall asleep. The pure and precious privilege that it is to be part of children’s worlds, sharing in the sweet moments of their lives.
I realise that maybe he is right – that without even noticing it, they have become special to me. They have become part of my world, as much as he is. I even start to wonder about my motivations – is it a coincidence that all of this has happened now? When my mum has disappeared from my life, and Sam is growing up? I can still remember the row Sam and I had back in Liverpool, when he accused me of having a “pathological need to be needed” – I mean, it’s not the kind of phrase you forget. Could he actually be right? My feelings for Archie are fairly straightforward – I really like him, and I fancy him rotten. But as he says, he comes as a package deal – and maybe I’ve unconsciously been attracted to that as well.
It is all a bit much, and I fear that I might start crying. I don’t want things between us to end. I don’t want to lose him, or them – but I don’t want to hurt them either. He’s right, I will be leaving – and I have to think about the consequences of that, of the effect it will have on people other than little old me.
I feel him nudge into my side, the familiar physical contact that I would usually find reassuring, or even exciting. Now I don’t know how to react.
“You’re very quiet,” he says gently. “Are you okay? I hate this…”
“I hate it too, Archie. But I don’t know – you might be right, and God knows, the last thing I want to do is cause any damage. To you, or to them. Or myself, if I’m being frank. It just feels…bad.”
“I know it does. I feel bad too. What we’ve had together…the fun, the friendship. The other stuff that we never even got to fully enjoy. It’s been a revelation. But it’s not like you’re staying, is it? It’s not like we’re in a normal situation here.”
