You don’t understand.
10
BEFORE
Dear Lexie,
It’s strange to think of a Christmas without you here. Of course, it was at its most magical when you and Ollie were small. By the time you were ten, in the run up to Christmas Day, life was more hectic than ever. There were the festivities at school as the term drew to a close, presents to buy, food to shop for, the house to decorate.
But I loved every minute of it, just as I loved that it was all about family, and that year was no exception. In the nonstop whirl of activity, I left it to you and Ollie to decorate the Christmas tree; I got out the box of decorations that had grown over the years. Each was symbolic, carefully chosen or handmade by childish hands.
‘Be really careful,’ I said to you.
‘Mum. I know what I’m doing.’ You were already hanging baubles as fast as your hands would let you.
Glancing at Ollie, I noticed how pale his face was. ‘You feeling OK, sweetie?’ I felt his brow with the back of my hand. ‘It’s Christmas next weekend. Aren’t you excited?’
At twelve, Ollie was growing rapidly. As I watched, his shoulders shrugged under the sweatshirt that was fast becoming too small for him. When he didn’t look at me, I knew something was wrong.
He didn’t say any more until that night, when he went to bed. When I went into his room, there were tears glittering in his eyes. I sat on his bed. He was at an age where he was shrugging off my gestures of affection, but I took one of his hands anyway. ‘What is it, sweetie?’
‘Nothing.’ The word almost choked him. Then tears started to roll down his cheeks.
‘Ollie, please tell me,’ I said as gently as I could, trying to hide how worried I felt.
‘Dad said…’ Suddenly tears were streaming down his face.
I felt myself freeze. ‘What did Dad say?’
‘He said…’ Ollie’s body was wracked with sobs. ‘He said…’
‘Hush,’ I soothed him, holding him against me, feeling his body shake; holding back the anger I felt that whatever Ryan had said had done this to him. When Ollie eventually calmed, I asked him again. ‘Sweetie, you need to tell me what Dad said.’
He raised tearstained eyes to look at me. ‘He said I hadn’t been good and I wouldn’t get any presents.’
A wave of shock hit me. ‘That isn’t true,’ I said disbelievingly. I’d never felt so protective towards my children, never so angry with Ryan. ‘When did he say this?’ I asked gently.
‘Last weekend. When you were working. Everything was fine – I made a joke about something. Lexie and I were really laughing. But when I looked at Dad, he wasn’t. Then suddenly, it was like he wasn’t Dad any more.’
My senses were alive with warning bells. Lucy and I had been setting up a wedding – lovely, cosy, winter-themed, with hundreds of white roses and dozens of ivory candles. I remembered coming back, thinking Ryan hadn’t seemed himself. But obviously that was down to drinking.
My heart broke for Ollie, that someone he should be able to rely on could be so cruel. ‘Let me tell you this,’ I said gently to Ollie. ‘Firstly, he’s wrong. Secondly, you’re the most wonderful son, Ollie. I’m so proud of you. As for Dad…’
A look of alarm filled Ollie’s face. ‘Don’t say anything. Please. He’ll know I’ve told you. It’ll only make it worse.’
‘Ollie…’ I gazed at eyes, which were pleading with me. ‘I have to say something to him. He can’t speak to you like that. It’s wrong.’
‘Don’t, Mum.’ Ollie was clearly frightened. ‘You don’t know what he’s like.’
‘I do.’ Looking at Ollie, I frowned. ‘Is there something else I don’t know?’
‘Daddy hit him.’ I turned around to see you standing there. Holding Eeyore by one of his ears, you came over and climbed onto Ollie’s bed. ‘It’s wrong, isn’t it, Mum? He shouldn’t hit his son.’
Shock upon shock hit me. It was so wrong, all of it: Ryan’s brutality towards Ollie, you watching. ‘No, he most definitely shouldn’t,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘How many times has this happened?’
‘There was another time. It was last week – while you were getting dressed,’ you said matter-of-factly. ‘Wasn’t it, Ollie?’
‘I wish you’d told me.’ I gazed at my children, not wanting to believe it was true, but knowing they wouldn’t have made this up. ‘Ollie?’ I gazed at my son. ‘We have to make sure this never happens again.’ I turned to you. ‘To either of you.’ I tried to read your eyes, but in their blue depths, I saw nothing.
