‘I just saw Martha looking white as a sheet,’ Mrs Harlow whispered, eyes glittering. ‘How?’
I looked around to make sure Jeannie hadn’t appeared before whispering as quietly as I could, ‘The machinery they use to cut the trees… there was a terrible accident.’ It was all I could manage to say. It didn’t feel real. Even saying it seemed ridiculous and like I had somehow got my wires crossed.
Mrs Harlow grimaced.
‘It was so awful, Mrs Harlow.’
Her mouth hung open slightly, her eyes searching as she took in the news of the death of a man she had taken care of since he was a boy.
‘Here.’ She gathered the rest of the pieces and put them in the bin. ‘If Mrs Weiss asks, I’ll tell her I broke it. I don’t want you getting the blame. I will stay up tonight, no doubt it will be a sleepless one for her. I will help with anything she might need… with anything any of you might need.’
I wasn’t surprised by Mrs Harlow’s kindness; she’d worked here for thirty-five years and the Weiss family must have felt like her own. I knew she’d always had a soft spot for Miles; he’d told me that she saw him as her own son.
I finished up making the tea and placed everything on a tray. Mrs Harlow took up a china teacup and a plate for Jeannie while I went and found the kids sat close together on the sofa, which was a rarer event than finding unicorn poo. I lit a fire and sat next to them, pulling them closer to me. We sat like that for I don’t know how long.
I watched the window, the snow outside coming down thick and fast.
After a while, Jeannie floated in, perching herself on the edge of her seat, hands folded in her lap, her gaze fixed on some invisible point in the distance. I sat up, pouring out another tea from the pot, and gently placed a cup in her hands.
‘I… um…’ she began before shaking her head, either forgetting or unable to say what she was thinking.
We, too, found ourselves rendered speechless. The whole thing was unprecedented. Yesterday, Tristan had nearly had his head blown off, and today he was dead. It was hard to chalk those two occurrences up to coincidence. Mimi was currently at the police station, and apparently it had been completely against her will. Miles and an officer had had to convince her to go – she’d been planning on getting in the car and driving God knows where. Hell, I wanted to drive God knows where. Anywhere but here. I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen, perhaps I assumed that we would all go home again. Or maybe that’s what I’d hoped. I imagined what the officers would think when they found out about the events at Jim’s farm…
‘They’ll want to go and see him, of course,’ Jeannie said absent-mindedly.
‘Who will, Jeannie?’
‘The girls. When he’s up for visitors.’
It was so hard not to make a face. Was she referring to the chapel of rest? I had seen enough of Tristan’s injuries to assume that the twins wouldn’t be too keen. But hey, what did I know.
‘And when he’s able, he can come home and rest in bed, and we will all be together for Christmas as planned.’
It took us a moment to realise what Jeannie had said. The kids and I shot alarmed looks at one another. I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out.
‘Grandma,’ Martha said softly, coming to my rescue, ‘Uncle Tristan… he’s not coming back.’
‘Of course he’s coming back,’ said Jeannie, as if what Martha had said was truly absurd.
Callum said slowly but gently, ‘Uncle Tristan… he’s– he’s not coming back, Grandma. He’s gone.’
What did I do to raise such brave kids, doing the job of an adult when even their own mother couldn’t pluck up the courage to speak?
Jeannie blinked a few times.
‘No… we don’t know that yet until the doctors have seen him. There must be something they can do.’ She put her cup down on the coffee table, stood up and brushed herself down. ‘So much to do. So so much to do. I must find Mrs Harlow…’ And with that she was out of the room, leaving the kids and me gawking at each other.
* * *
The kids and I waited hours for Miles, Mimi and the girls to return. We were relieved when we saw headlights wending up the driveway, winking through the snow flurries. But it turned out to be Clem and Fergus, who had picked up Toots on their way. They held Toots by the arms to steady her as she ascended the steps, the snow coming down harder than ever. I pulled my phone out and tried to call Miles again. He must have had thirteen missed calls from me. My heart raced as one thought kept going around in my head: what if Miles had been bending down at the base of that tree? What if, in one moment, he’d been taken from me? I wanted to tear the walls down until I got back to him again.
Night had fallen and everyone had gone to bed by the time they arrived, wipers swiping frantically to keep the snow off. A moment later, I heard the crunching of tyres on snow, and Mimi and the twins pulled up behind him. Miles trudged up the steps, his face grim and exhausted. Snowflakes clung to his coat and hair.
‘Oh, my God, Miles, are you okay?’ I said as I ran to him and flung my arms around him. I held him tight to me, vowing that I would never let him out of my sight again. I kissed his face and felt the snowflakes melting underneath my lips. ‘What happened?’ I whispered urgently as he stepped inside.
Miles shook his head wearily. ‘The police had a lot of questions. I told them everything I saw, which wasn’t much. They say it was an accident. A terrible, dreadful accident. It just seems so… It’s so hard to…’
‘They’re treating it as an accident?’ I didn’t know if I was shocked or relieved to hear that.
