He looks taken aback. ‘You mean that?’
‘Completely, Oll. I agree – with every word you’ve said.’ Even if I didn’t, it isn’t for me to say otherwise.
‘That wasn’t what I was expecting.’ Relief washes over his face. ‘I was worried that when the baby was born, you might try to change my mind.’
I’m silent for a moment. It’s the moment I should seize, to talk to Ollie. To spell out how I feel; that all the years he was growing up, I let him down – massively, unforgivably. But as I contemplate it, it’s like I’m standing on an emotional precipice. ‘Once, maybe I would have. But not any more.’
He looks at me curiously. ‘What’s changed?’
Beyond the obvious? ‘I suppose I’ve realised a few things. Just because someone’s family, doesn’t mean you should always make allowances for their behaviour. I did that far too much when you and Lexie were growing up. But also…’ I hesitate. ‘It was because I wanted to help Dad. I loved him once. He wasn’t always like this. I suppose a part of me hoped that man might still be there. But I got it wrong, didn’t I?’ Tears fill my eyes again. ‘And it came at a cost to you and Lexie.’ I break off. My emotions are raw, too close to the surface.
‘We could see how impossible it was for you,’ Ollie says gently. ‘You tried so hard. Neither of us blamed you.’
‘I think Lexie did – a bit. And I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had.’ I swallow the lump in my throat.
‘You moved us out, Mum. When things got really bad. I’ll never forget that.’
‘I thought about moving us back.’ Wiping my eyes, I blink at my son. ‘Remember how Lexie tore a strip off me? I can’t believe I even considered it.’
‘We both knew what Lexie was like, especially back then.’ When Ollie pauses, I know he’s thinking of you. ‘Always said it like it was, didn’t she? But I think we both understood you were worried about how Dad would cope.’
‘I don’t deserve you.’ Reaching out, I hold his hand, suddenly overwhelmed that he can be so forgiving. ‘And sorry to put a downer on things.’ I pull myself together. ‘You must tell me if there’s anything you need for your lovely nursery. This is such an amazing time in your lives.’
‘It is.’ His fingers tighten around mine as he looks at me. ‘Mum? Thank you for talking about this. I wish so much that Lexie was here.’ His voice wavers. ‘But in spite of everything that’s happened, I know I’m lucky to have so many blessings in my life.’
My heart is bursting as I drive home. With love, with missing you; with regret. With pride that Ollie is the man he is; sadness that you’re too far away to witness this next chapter of our family’s history, though I know you’ll be there in whatever way you can. There have been so many chapters, their pages emblazoned with the highs and lows of us. So many that I couldn’t face, that you weren’t afraid of confronting.
When’s it going to happen, Mum? You finally leaving Dad? Can’t you see how horrible he is? To all of us?
Words that seemed harsh; you didn’t pull any punches. But when I knew you were right, there was no arguing with you.
When I get home, I feel the same sense of relief I always feel that I no longer come back to Ryan. This house was our family home, but a couple of years ago, I inherited some money and bought Ryan out. Then once he’d found his flat, after giving up the rented house you and Ollie and I had moved to, I came back.
I tidy the kitchen I re-vamped when I completely decorated the house; then, going upstairs, I change into slouchy jogging bottoms and a T-shirt. On impulse, I go to your old bedroom, pushing the door open and standing there for a moment.
As I go in, the air carries a hint of the perfume you used to wear, the bed still made up with your dusky pink linen sheets; photos you’ve taken in recent years Blu-tacked randomly onto the wall. Your beloved Eeyore, who should have gone with you, placed on one corner of your bookshelf. Going over, I pick him up. Holding him close to my face, I breathe in the scent of you. And for a brief moment, it’s as though I can feel you with me, as though echoes of you are reaching out.
My mind explodes with a memory that’s years old – of Ryan thundering upstairs, then storming along to your room. The look on his face as he launched a verbal attack on you that I tried to contest. The sanctuary of your bedroom suddenly a battle ground. And over something so trivial, I can’t remember what it was.
He’s drunk, Mum, isn’t he? Surely you know the signs. Angry Dad equals drunk Dad.
I told him to get out, but he turned on me, too.
‘For fuck’s sake, Edie. Mind your own business.’ Never stopping to realise that what he said hurt all of us. But such was the dysfunctional pattern of our lives.
The following morning, I get up early. It helps me now, more than ever, that I have a long-established practice of beginning each day with thinking about everything I am grateful for, and it’s this I focus on now. The roof over my head, this comfy home. My friendship with Lucy, the business we’ve built. My children – the two of you will always be my children. Ollie and Jenna; the baby who will be joining us soon.
‘You’re early,’ Lucy says cheerfully when I get to work. Then her face changes. ‘I feel dreadful about what I said to you yesterday. At the very least, I owe you an apology.’
‘It’s OK, Luce. You really don’t. You were bang on.’
‘I wasn’t.’ She looks mortified. ‘I was cruel. You’re missing Lexie, as well as all the bollocks with Ryan. You didn’t need one of my lectures about Ollie.’
I tell her about calling in on him last night.
‘I’m glad.’ Coming over, she hugs me. ‘Edes, I only said what I did because I care. You never deserved the way Ryan treated you. None of you did.’
‘I do know that.’ I’m silent for a moment. ‘It wasn’t easy to listen to what you said, but I needed to hear it. So much of what went on wasn’t right.’ And yes, it’s in the past, but it has so much bearing on what’s happened to all of us since.
