‘Right…yes, of course. Well, you know where that is, too. I’ll just go and…’ He didn’t finish the sentence, leaving Henry alone.
With a resigned smile, Henry pulled open the door to the cloakroom and stepped inside. He wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find Adam waiting for him, ready to whisk him away once he’d finished washing his hands, but, mercifully, the hallway was empty, save for the array of coats and shoes stored neatly in a purpose-built unit, and copious decorations, of course.
A huge swathe of greenery and baubles snaked its way up the banister. A wreath matching the one on the front door hung on the inner doorway to the living room and a small, twinkling tree stood on an oak console table with a tasteful tableau of frosted pine cones and berries beside it. His bag, he noted, stood on the floor at the foot of the staircase.
Straightening his jumper and hanging up his scarf, Henry rolled his shoulders around and stretched out his neck before walking through to the kitchen, the largest smile he could muster fixed on his face.
‘Sofia…hello.’ She turned from the island unit where she was standing arranging vegetables in a serving dish. He walked forward to greet her, kissing her on the cheek as was customary. ‘Merry Christmas.’
‘Merry Christmas,’ she replied, turning back. ‘Adam, could you take these to the table, please?’ She handed her husband the dish. ‘Come and sit down, Henry, the food’s ready.’
‘Good job the traffic got moving when it did then,’ he said.
Adam stepped forward. ‘What was it in the end?’ he asked. ‘Did you find out what caused the stoppage?’
Henry was about to make a joke about it being Breakfast Room Green, when he stopped himself. They wouldn’t understand and he didn’t want to explain. He shook his head. ‘No idea. There didn’t seem to be anything obvious when I drove on. Just one of those things, I guess.’
Adam took the dish of vegetables.
‘I’m just thankful it wasn’t an accident,’ added Henry. ‘That doesn’t bear thinking about, especially at this time of year. Losing a few hours is nothing compared with losing a life, is it?’
Sofia looked at Adam. ‘No, of course not. Come and sit down before the food gets cold.’
Henry stared at his heaped plate. Under other circumstances it would have looked lovely, but Henry felt rushed and ill prepared to eat a large meal only minutes after stepping from his car. Plus, perhaps foolishly, he had taken the edge off his appetite by sharing Peg’s sandwiches and eating several of her mince pies – both things he was perfectly within his rights to do. A flicker of irritation soured his stomach.
‘You really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, Sofia,’ he said. ‘This looks lovely, but you must have been cooking for hours.’
‘Nonsense. I know how much you enjoyed the poussin last year,’ she replied. ‘And I’m not having you come all this way with just beans on toast to greet you at the other end. Besides, Adam and I always eat a proper dinner.’
Henry nodded and picked up his knife and fork. ‘Well, thank you. It looks wonderful.’ He cut up a small amount of meat and popped it in his mouth. The mushroom sauce was incredibly rich; laden with wine and heavy with cream. ‘Mmm, tastes it, too.’ He nodded. ‘You both look well.’
‘Tell him about your promotion,’ said Sofia, smiling at her husband.
And just like that, all mention of his journey was over. However much he was proud of his son, he didn’t particularly want to listen to his news just now. What he wanted to do was tell them about Peg, about her husband, and what the festive season meant for her. How hard it must be, and weren’t he and Adam and Sofia lucky to be alive and healthy and together and…But he wouldn’t tell them any of those things, so he just smiled, told Adam it was wonderful news and took another mouthful of food.
‘Of course, it isn’t just the money,’ said Sofia a few minutes later. ‘Although it’s absolutely what Adam deserves. It’s the recognition of how hard he works. Plus, it’ll mean a lot less time in the classroom, wasting hours dealing with bad behaviour and sorting out stupid squabbles.’
Henry frowned. ‘But I always thought you enjoyed the classroom?’ he said. ‘Didn’t you say it was why you went into teaching in the first place, not to push around bits of paper?’
‘Yes, but ideology will only get you so far,’ replied Adam. ‘And that was when I was fresh from training, and far too naive. Teaching isn’t like it was when you started, Dad. Things are different now, and whether you agree with it or not, paperwork is a massive part of the job. Exam results, league tables…’
‘I’mstillteaching,’ replied Henry mildly. ‘I understand all that.’
‘You lecture, Dad, it’s very different. Schools are all about performance, and taking on the role of Head of Humanities now, as well as English, will mean I get to really shape the curriculum, to correct all the strategies that have been holding us back and put new ones in place. I’ll be helping to take the school to the next level, and in terms of my career that can only be a good thing.’
Henry sliced a green bean in half, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to say. Or, rather, how to hold back what he wanted to say and still appear supportive.
‘Well, that all sounds very exciting. Well done.’
‘You could be a little more enthusiastic.’ Adam was staring at him, a challenging look on his face. It was a look which Henry was beginning to see more and more these days.
‘No, I’m really happy for you,’ he replied, determined not to bite. ‘But I’m also very tired. It’s been a long, slow journey over and your old man’s not as young as he used to be. As long asyou’rehappy, I’m more than pleased. It’s a great position to attain.’
‘Of course I’m happy, why wouldn’t I be?’
Henry deliberately filled his mouth with food so he couldn’t reply, instead giving a nod of acknowledgement.
‘Plus…’ said Sofia. ‘You remember our friends from Cheltenham?’
