Sam edged down the stairs quietly and slowly, his ears peeled. Clara had gone down earlier while he was in the shower, but he couldn’t hear her voice. Or anyone’s, for that matter.
The old patio doors were slid half open, and Sam guessed everyone must be outside. The overnight rain had cleared, but the sky still looked a little overcast. As he filled the kettle, he saw his mum and Clara walking by the open window, looking at the plants.
‘Did you sleep well?’ Clara’s voice drifted inside. ‘I don’t always sleep well in strange places.’
‘Yes, I did, sweetheart, thank you,’ his mum replied. ‘Though I haven’t properly slept well since I lost Jimmy. He was taken from us when he was far too young.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Clara said softly. ‘What happened?’
‘He’d had a very bad flu, and he went off to work, though he really shouldn’t have. But he was a postal worker, and it was getting close to Christmas, so he felt like he had to. He nevercame back – during the day he’d developed sepsis. He pulled into a layby, presumably not feeling well… and died.’
‘Oh no.’
The mention of his dad and that day sent a pang through Sam’s chest. He’d never forget it. The way they’d all sat around wondering where he was and when he’d be back.
Sometimes it felt like he might still walk through the door, laughing and chatting as though nothing had happened.
‘It gets a little easier as time goes on,’ Moira said. ‘But I think about him every day. He was a good man. Always so kind and gentle, but strong. Oh, I don’t mean he was a weightlifter or anything like that. He had a strong personality and always did what he thought was best. Never wanted to let anyone down. Sam’s a lot like him, you know.’
Sam’s hand paused mid-reach for the coffee jar.
‘He’s a good lad, my Sam. Was a bit rebellious as a teenager. As they all are, but he’s a lovely son. I just wish he’d be happy again. Properly happy. I know he is mostly, but with the constant threat of upheaval, it’s a lonely life for him sometimes. I know he wants to do everything for the boys, but I hate that it means he’s sacrificing himself.’
Clara murmured something Sam couldn’t quite make out, and his mum sighed.
‘He’s been through so much. That split with Olive… I know it was the right thing in the end, but it hurt him terribly. She wasn’t… well, let’s just say she didn’t treat him as he deserved. And he was so good to her. It was painful to see the way he beat himself up about their relationship, but really, it wasn’t him. I think it’s scarred him to the point where he’s afraid to enter into relationships.’
Sam’s grip tightened on the tin. Was that true? She maybe had a point. Even if he hadn’t consciously thought that, there was a possibility the fear was ingrained in him. He knewthe difficulties of having a relationship when his future was uncertain, but what if there was more to it? Was he so afraid?
Was that why he’d waited until Clara was asleep before saying the three little words that had been on his mind for some time now?
I love you.
His heart filled as he thought of them. Yes. He loved her. This wasn’t a friend’s thing anymore. And even if Olive ended up moving somewhere else, Sam needed to face these fears and find a way to make something work for him and Clara – if that was what she wanted, of course. As soon as his mum, Claire, Alisha and Mina were safely on their way, he would talk first to the boys, then ask her.
‘I’m glad he trusts you,’ Moira said. ‘He doesn’t open up easily, not these days. He’s so charming and lovely with people, but he keeps his private business close. His relationship with his boys is a blessing, even if it’s not always been easy.’
‘He’s amazing with them,’ Clara said.
‘He is, isn’t he?’ His mum sounded proud. ‘He’s a wonderful father.’
Sam swallowed a lump in his throat.
‘I know he wanted his own kids,’ his mum went on. ‘Not because Kaleb and Jacob aren’t enough, but because he loves being a father.’
Clara didn’t respond right away, and Sam wondered what she was thinking. He assumed from things he’d overheard and snippets that she told him that she couldn’t have kids. Was that preying on her mind? She’d never told him exactly what the issue was. Maybe it was too painful to talk about. He needed to let her know she could talk to him, and whatever the issues were they wouldn’t make him love her any less.
‘I’m glad he has you as a friend,’ his mum said. ‘And I’m very happy to have met you, Clara. You’re such a good fit for all of us.’
‘Thank you,’ Clara said, though her voice was muffled, and Sam guessed they were hugging.
He ran a hand through his tousled hair, then made his way to the patio doors. He paused for a moment, watching his mother and Clara still embracing by the bistro table, then he strode out, his bare feet cool against the smooth stones. ‘Morning,’ he said.
His mum and Clara turned, both smiling. Sam’s eyes met Clara’s, and for a brief moment, he saw a flicker of something there before her face broke into a warm smile.
‘Sam, darling.’ His mum’s eyes crinkled with joy. ‘Come join us, sweetheart.’
He wrapped his arms around both of them, enveloping them in a bear hug. ‘You two are great.’
