I shook my head at her. “You’re twenty-eight.”
“That’s really old.” That was Claire. “Can I come upstairs and show you too? I want to show you my room.”
We all ended up going upstairs to show Marie where the laundry was, my children fascinated with her. Then they all had to show her their bedrooms.
“But we all sleep in Max’s room.” Claire said when she closed her door.
I turned round at that. “What? Why are you sleeping in Max’s room? You all have your own room.” The house wasn’t exactly small. It had eight bedrooms and an annex, which I’d planned at some point to renovate so it became part of the main house.
Claire and Jackson looked at each other, scared.
It was Max who spoke for them as usual. “They have to walk past Mummy’s old room to get to the bathroom if they wake up in the night and that scares them, so they stay with me.”
I looked over at Marie and found her looking at me.
That wasn’t good. I got it, could understand it and knew it wasn’t good.
“Okay, so do we need to bring their beds in here?” She looked at Claire and Jackson, both still filthy.
Max nodded, far, far too serious for a child his age. “Maybe.”
Or maybe we really did need that house move. Then I could have some remodelling done on this and it’d feel different when we came back. A fresh start.
Marie clapped her hands together, breaking the atmosphere that was heavy in the room. “How much is left to clean up? We’re nearly at five o’clock – best get a move on if we’re sending Dad out for ice cream.” And with that, my kids got back to work.
The house was still a mess when I got back from the little shop in the nearby village that sold homemade ice cream, but it was tidier. A quick run over with the vacuum would help, if I knew where the vac was kept.
I had a feeling I’d be acquainted with that vac midday tomorrow.
I found Jackson and Max on the sofa in the sitting room, blankets around them, cushions everywhere as well as their pillows. They were clean scrubbed, their PJ’s looking fresh.
“You’ve done a good job tidying.” I sat down in between them, putting an arm around each of them. “Was it as fun as making a mess?”
Max shook his head. “It was boring but it didn’t take that long.”
“Good. What happened in the garden?” I’d already seen which flower bed they’d attacked. It looked like a hurricane had torn through it.
Max shrugged. “I’m sorry.”
I nodded. “Apology accepted. It’s going to need some work to look pretty again so maybe we need to go to a garden centre tomorrow and choose some new plants. We’ll need to put it right.”
Jackson cuddled up closer to me, but Max was still sitting stiffly.
“I’m not mad. I know it’s been boring with Aunt Hannah. She’s not the most fun person, I know.”
Another shrug. “I got kicked out of school. And two nannies left. I don’t think anyone likes us.”
“Maybe you haven’t been helpful and you’ve all caused extra work, but I like you.”
“I don’t think Mum liked us.” He relaxed a little into me now. “I think that’s why she died.”
Guilt, fear and sadness wrapped around my throat and stopped my breath for a moment. “Your mum died because she was poorly. She loved you very much. She was just too poorly to take care of you and that wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Except mine, because I should’ve been around more rather than pretending it wasn’t happening by hiding away. “Shall we go and see what Claire and Callum are doing?” I needed to divert them.
“They’re with Marie. Claire cut her own hair yesterday and Marie was trying to fix it.” Jackson slid off the sofa. “Claire looked stupid.”
“Please don’t tell her that.” I could do without a brother and sister fight which Claire would win because she had absolutely no boundaries when fighting with her brothers.
Jackson shook his head. “I’m not stupid.” He grinned, which made me feel instantly better. “Can we have ice-cream for dinner?”
