“Because it had too much history and she didn’t want to obliterate that. So we turned the house into somewhere both old and new, so you learned how to move forward. I know all of you have fallen back in love with the place over the years. Maybe you were the last to do that.” It was rare for me to be so open with my eldest. He never really wanted me to be anything but practical, skirting round issues with solutions rather than address the underlying problems.
We’d had a set to when he’d been upset over Vic and scared of committing to her, because he thought he was too much like me. He was, but he was a better version.
“I like it there now. When there’s a few of us there, it’s the best place to be. I know Vic’s looking forward to going there in a couple of weeks for the Bank Holiday weekend. The kids can run wild.” His eyes were looking at something in the past. “Like we used to.”
“Like you still do when you’re there. You’re all a bit more childlike when you’re there, especially together.”
Another nod from my eldest. He looked like me and acted like me sometimes, me when I was at my best, but he reminded me of the best of Rachael too, the Rachael she’d been before she’d been poorly. She’d been tough, fair and fierce, not dissimilar to Marie, but she’d never really believed in herself. Max did. He’d learned to from Marie.
“So what will Lucy do at the cricket?”
He landed back in the room from whichever memory he’d been lost in. “Read or message Eliza and Rose about how hard done to she is. Or, she’ll really enjoy it which is what happened last time. She actually likes her brothers sometimes and she’s really competitive. If they’re playing all she wants is them to win. She’s a bit of a nightmare, really, because she gets really cranky at the umpire.” He was smiling as he said it. “She’s like Marie.”
“She’s spent a lot of time with Marie. Kids do pick up traits.” This was it, this was my opportunity to say words that should’ve been long since said. “I remember when we moved in here and how you went and helped Jackson and Claire and Callum with their bedrooms before you even touched yours. You went to sleep without anything unpacked absolutely shattered.”
He shrugged, unsmiling. “I needed to get them settled.”
“You were – and you still are – an amazing big brother. You’re an amazing dad as well. I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.”
He looked away from me, outside into the small courtyard garden that was typical for London.
I heard him sniff, then bluster the back of his hand over his eyes.
“You did okay as our dad too, you know.” Finally he looked at me. “Once Marie was here.”
I nodded, pleased to hear the words, pretty sure I wouldn’t hear them again from him.
“I tried. It was hard. Marie made things easier. So did you. I’m sorry I wasn’t better before.” Max would know that was about the third time in my life I’d ever apologised.
He nodded, watching me with interest rather than fear or resentment, both of which had been present until he became older. “I know. I get it now. I really do. That doesn’t mean you being absent when we were younger was excusable – it wasn’t and I don’t know how you did it. I hate being apart from my kids, I even miss my nieces and nephews. But you made up for it when we were older. And you couldn’t be a better grandad.” He sipped his coffee.
“And you couldn’t be a better son.”
He gave a single nod, not fighting the compliment as he had done in the past. “Thank you. Want to come to the cricket later? See your grandsons in action?”
I nodded. “Definitely. As long as Marie lets me.”
MEMORY ELEVEN
MARIE
A girl friend I went to school with had trained to become a child psychologist and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t give her a call the following day to seek some advice, advice which I knew already.
There’s no right or wrong way to do any of this. But those kids will attach quick if you’re consistently there. Be prepared for what that entails.
That was the difficult conversation. The easier one was with my parents. Bernadette had told them where I was and then announced that she’d join me in London that week, which I think had done something to settle my mother’s jitters. My dad read me the riot act at leaving work so suddenly, but then told me he liked Grant and he wasn’t a bad choice of husband.
My mother flew into wedding planning mode. At that point I switched off and made faces at Max and Callum who were sitting on the stairs, listening to half of my phone call.
Grant and I had decided not to tell the children any untruths. Yes, I was his girlfriend. Yes, I was staying in his bedroom and they needed to knock before they came in still. Yes, I was going to live with them – which went down well but that was what bribery in the form of pyjama parties did, especially after you’vehad months of pissed off nannies and an aunt who should be living with Cruella de Vil and giving her lessons.
But pyjama parties were fun. We raided the freezer for chips and sausages for dinner and had the snacky things that Grant had picked up when he got the ice cream – sausage rolls and party food. It was Saturday, so I’d decided that come hell or high water I was cooking a proper Sunday lunch and that would be a tradition going forward.
I was a fan of traditions. Sunday lunch was a big one. Eggnog at Christmas was another, as was mass on Christmas Eve. Spoiling someone with a birthday was another huge one and we had Jackson’s birthday coming up and there were new traditions to make which these kids didn’t have.
The end of the conversation with my parents was positive. They were slightly concerned that I’d headed across the ocean for a man with four kids, but given that in the previous twenty-eight years I hadn’t made a stupid decision, they were supportive of the fact I was owed an impulsive moment.
“Are you going to marry our dad?” Max asked me as soon as the receiver was back in the cradle.
