Sam nodded. He never found her receptive to anything he had to say these days, but for the boys he would try.
‘Let’s get downstairs. You can spend a little while with Grandma and the others before they go.’
Sam had thought he’d heard the door while he was talking to the boys and assumed Clara was back, but when he got downstairs, she wasn’t there.
‘Where is she?’ Sam checked the time on his phone, his thumb tapping restlessly against the screen. His mum and Claire needed to leave soon. Clara had said she’d be half an hour – and that had been almost an hour ago.
‘Wherever she’s got to, she’ll be very wet.’ Moira peered out of the window. Rain streaked down the glass, the world outside blurred and grey. ‘Maybe she’s taking shelter under the trees.’
‘Possibly.’ The word came out tight. Sam pushed a hand through his hair and started pacing.
Kaleb and Jacob had gone into the dining room, where Mina and Alisha were playing Uno. Sam watched them through the glass doors as they sat down, and Alisha gave them some cards. Claire scrolled through her phone, but her eyes flicked to the clock every few minutes. They had a long drive ahead, and the delay was making everyone fidgety.
‘Not fair,’ Mina shouted from the room next door. ‘That’s cheating!’
‘No, it isn’t,’ Alisha said. ‘I didn’t mean to look.’
‘Hey, play nice through there.’ Claire didn’t look up. Her voice was calm but taut, fingers fiddling with the ends of her caramel blonde waves. After a moment, she glanced at Sam. ‘Try calling her.’
He hesitated, phone in hand. His thumb hovered over Clara’s name – that familiar smiling face on the contact photo – and his chest constricted. He wanted to know she was all right. But what if she just needed space? What if he came across as pushy or controlling? The ghost of old habits stirred – the quiet fear that he might say or do the wrong thing, the way he’d always felt with Olive.
But Clara wasn’t Olive. She wouldn’t make him second-guess himself like this.
He took a breath and stepped into the kitchen, away from the chatter of the living room. The rain hammered harder against the window, a dull, relentless rhythm that only amplified the silence between each ring as he pressed call.
One ring. Two. Three.
His pulse quickened, a dull thud in his ears. He pressed the phone tighter against his head, listening so hard it almost hurt.
Four rings. Five.
The noise of the house – his nieces laughing, his mum speaking softly – faded into a blur. All he could hear was the hollow sound of the call tone, stretching out like a thread about to snap.
Then a click. Relief flared for half a second – before Clara’s recorded voice came through.
‘Hi, it’s Clara here. I can’t come to the phone right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.’
The beep that followed was sharp, final.
‘Hey, just wondering where you are,’ he said, trying to keep his tone light. ‘Hope you’re ok. Mum and Claire need to head off soon.’
He lowered the phone slowly, staring at the dark screen. The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It pressed against his ribs – heavy, uneasy, and full of questions he didn’t want to ask out loud.
Grinding his teeth, he scrolled down until he got to Olive’s name. This might take his mind off Clara for a moment, but it was unlikely to be pleasant.
He hit connect, half hoping this call would also go to voicemail, but she picked up on the second ring.
‘Hi. What’s up? Are the boys ok?’
‘They’re fine, but I need to talk to you about something.’
‘What?’ Her voice sounded cold, and he wondered what it was he’d ever seen in her. All the love he’d once felt had been stubbed out long ago.
‘I’ve spoken to the boys this morning and told them that… Well, if you move again, I won’t be moving too.’
A silence followed. ‘It’s your call, I guess. But didn’t you always say you’d be there for them?’
He tried not to grind his teeth. ‘I will be. I’ve told them I’ll always be here for them. I’ll come and see them as often as I can. They can visit whenever they want.’
