ONE
Romy
“Mummy, we’ve got a new head teacher.”
A little hand pushed its way into mine, a little hand that was very sticky. I took hold of it anyway, knowing only too well how precious each day was. Life could be too short; I’d learned that in a way I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I’d also learned to take every moment as if it was plated with gold.
“What’s their name?” This was probably something I would’ve known if I’d read the bulletins the school liked to send out at least fortnightly, so well-behaved parents could discuss what was happening with their children.
Those bulletins didn’t promote discussion around our kitchen table, just a hell of a lot of mum-guilt and an extra glass of wine to numb it. Heidi liked school. She was learning a lot – I knew exactly how much because she talked so much about it. If there wasn’t a problem I wasn’t going to go looking for one, and I trusted the teachers there. It was different to where I’d been brought up, in the middle of a city with terraced houses that made the streets feel like a maze from a Pac Man game.Like where I grew up, in Puffin Bay we all knew each other and were in and out of each other’s business whether it was wanted or not. But instead of the terraced house and concrete blocks filled with flats, we had the sea here and the sand dunes, marram grass blowing in the summer breeze and scent of brine. Here was home, where I’d found the better part of me, as well as losing one of the best parts of my life.
“He’s called Mr Caddick.” Heidi swung her little school bag in her other hand. “He did story time.”
My daughter’s favourite part of her day was story time. It was her favourite reason to go to school every day, and the reason why there was a line of teddies and dolls in her bedroom waiting for her to read stories to them. Or make up stories because at five years old, Heidi was just about recognising enough words to read her starter books fluently.
Her favourite story to tell was about a man called Joel who had been a hero, saving a boy from drowning. The story had a variety of endings; some days he returned from the sea that day, and other days he became an angel for a girl named Heidi.
Which he was, or at least we liked to believe he was. She had no memories of the father who’d adored her, just the ones I’d given to her so she knew she’d been loved by him and that he had been the hero she thought he was.
“Mr Caddick. Is he nice?”
She nodded, her expression serious. “Very nice. Mummy, can Mia come for tea?”
“When do you want her to come for tea?” I braced myself for the answer, knowing that most five-year-olds didn’t do delayed gratification.
“Can she come today? Mia’s mummy didn’t come to pick her up, so Mia walked home alone.”
I squeezed Heidi’s hand a little tighter. Mia’s mum, Cara, had gone to school with Joel so I’d kind of known her for a fewyears, since I’d moved to the island. She was nice and friendly, but since she’d had Mia, she’d struggled with depression, or at least that was my diagnosis. Two years after having Mia, she’d started a relationship with a man from Manchester, and that had coincided with some of her behaviours becoming even more erratic, like forgetting to pick Mia up from school, which was a weekly thing, if not more often. Mia’s dad wasn’t around, he’d stopped for a bit before getting bored with sleepy Puffin Bay, so he’d left Cara on her own, which she had seemed resigned with. I’d asked her if she wanted to meet for coffee and cake a few times, or if she wanted to meet for a glass of wine at the Puffin Inn while the girls played on the climbing frames and swings in the beer garden. Sometimes she’d made an excuse, other times she’d cancelled at the last minute. I was at the point where I’d stopped asking, aware I was making her feel awkward because she really didn’t want to hang out.
Now I felt bad for not asking any more.
“Why don’t we go to Mia’s now and ask? Maybe Mia can have a sleepover with us too. What do you think?” It was a Friday, and swimming lessons tomorrow were cancelled so there was no alarm set, which meant I could take both the girls to the beach for the morning and for lunch at Amelie’s cakery. I had a feeling that Mia wasn’t getting much in the way of excitement at the moment.
Heidi jumped up and down with excitement, almost tripping over her feet. She’d inherited her father’s good nature and none of my anxieties, which was a blessing I often counted.
“Can we go to Puff Puff Inn for tea?”
That was a curve ball. I’d taken Heidi for dinner at the local inn several times, usually on a Friday when I had no will to cook anything, let alone anything nutritious. Amelie did a children’s menu with a portion of fish, chips and mushy peas that was probably one of Heidi’s favourite ever meals and she just lovedbeing in the inn with its mix of old shipping relics and photos from the Bay from years before, including the one of her dad. Joel was smiling in the photo, just like I remembered him. His broad, mischievous smile that could turn dirty in a nano-second was on display, his light stubble visible –all the better for kissing you with– and his thick biceps in all their glory.
He'd always taken my breath away and my heart still hurt that he wasn’t around to see his baby grow up with me.
“You want to go to Puffin Inn?” I double checked because her favourite Friday when it was nice weather was to eat our fish and chips on the beach.
Why she called itPuff-Puff,I had no idea, but it was better than telling her new head teacher that she was going to the pub, so I didn’t correct her.
Plus it was cute.
“Please. I want to see Amelie’s dog.”
We’d diverted towards Mia’s, Heidi chattering away about who didn’t get their golden time at school, and what she’d played at lunch break. I half listened, more focused on the bit of work I had to do this weekend on a presentation to the board next week. I was a finance manager for a company that was currently expanding, which meant my workload was expanding also. The good thing was that salary had expanded too, along with my prospects of promotion. I worked from home, with a rare meeting at the head office in Liverpool, and with friends in Puffin Bay looking after Heidi after school, it was a pretty good set up.
I had good friends, an amazing little girl, and a job I enjoyed and took satisfaction from. Aside from the dull ache from the wound that Joel’s death had left, my life was full of contentment. I had a good life. I was making a good life for mine and Joel’s little girl, which I tried to take pride in, only I felt guilt at the moment too. Cara was a single parent like me. She did somecasual cleaning work here and there, but was often bogged down with drama from her family, heading over to Bangor while Mia stayed with me or one of her other friends from school.
Heidi led me up the little side path towards Mia’s house, planning what we’d do tomorrow, which included enough activities to fill an entire summer break.
“What do you want to do, Mummy?”
The answer to that was read a book on the beach while enjoying a glass of something fizzy, preferably served by a hot waiter giving off I-can-get-you-where-you-need-to-go vibes, but some truths didn’t need to be shared.
