But as I lay back in bed, I felt my mind wander as I imagined a window into a very different future. One where you and Ollie were older, where the four of us were happy. Where there was kindness, understanding, respect. The window closed and another one opened onto a scene like today where, even years on, you and Ollie were anxious; where we still walked on tiptoes, even on calmer days; still waited for Ryan’s anger to erupt.
A sigh came from me. Was the choice I had that obvious? Did I have the power to change the rest of our lives?
Boxing Day brought an unforecast cold snap, a dusting of the finest snow. I awoke to your ear-piercing shriek.
‘Mum! Look! It’s snowing!’
Pulling on jogging bottoms and a sweater, I went downstairs, where you and Ollie were already putting on boots and jackets.
‘We’re going to make a snowman.’ Ollie’s eyes were shining.
I watched you through the window, your faces pink with excitement and cold as you gathered handfuls of snow and moulded them into shape. I didn’t notice Ryan coming into the kitchen.
‘You went to bed early last night,’ he said.
‘You were asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you,’ I said. ‘You haven’t forgotten, have you, we’re invited to Lucy’s today?’
He looked annoyed. ‘I could do without it, if I’m honest.’
‘The children are looking forward to it,’ I reminded him. ‘You can’t pull out.’
‘You could go without me.’ He sounded as though he couldn’t care less. ‘We both know Lucy won’t miss me.’
I paused. There were so many things I could say: no, Lucy won’t miss you. Stay at home and get pissed, like you do every day. We’ll all have more fun without you. ‘You’re right. We could go without you, but it would be far nicer to do this together. We needn’t stay late,’ I said persuasively. ‘It’s Christmas, Ryan. Think of the children.’ I forced a smile.
It was late morning when we set off for Lucy’s. As we got in the car, Ryan glanced up at the sky. ‘Looks like we have more snow coming.’
‘Yay! I love snow!’ you said excitedly.
‘Maybe we shouldn’t go,’ Ryan said. ‘We don’t want to get stuck.’
‘I want to get stuck at Auntie Lucy’s,’ you started chanting. ‘Ollie does too, don’t you, Ollie?’
‘I think we should still go. It isn’t far, and if the weather takes a turn for the worse, we can always leave early.’ From the driving seat, I turned my head to look at you. ‘Ready?’ I took in your faces. Ollie’s slightly anxious; yours, grinning from ear-to-ear at me.
As I drove, it struck me how unbelievably rare it was that the four of us did anything together these days. How much effort it took to persuade Ryan to come with us. Is that how it was with other families? But I was already making excuses: everyone’s lives were busy, dominated by work. Time off together rare.
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into Lucy’s drive. Before we reached it, her husband, Matt, opened their front door. You probably don’t remember her first husband – and he was nothing like Matt. Leaning down, Matt hugged an exuberant you, a more reticent Ollie. When we went inside, the house smelled of home-cooked food and freshly cut fir. Hurrying to greet us, Lucy hugged me.
‘Happy Boxing Day! I’m so glad you’re all here! The house has felt horribly empty this year.’ She was referring to Mia’s absence.
‘Not any more,’ I said as she handed me a glass of champagne.
Lucy’s house was as welcoming as she was, a log fire burning in the grate, the Christmas tree sparkling with fairy lights, a small pile of presents underneath for Ollie and you.
‘Haven’t they had enough presents?’ Ryan said loudly.
Lucy playfully smacked him on the shoulder. ‘Oh, Ryan,’ she said. ‘You can never have too many presents.’ The smack was hard enough to make a point, an unspoken message in her words. None of your shit in this house.
It was a day of jollity – during which, thanks to Lucy, Ryan didn’t dare step a foot out of line; that was cut short when the sky darkened and snow began to fall. Heavier than last night, it quickly settled on trees and covered the garden.
‘We should go home.’ Ryan got up. ‘Come on, kids. Get your things together.’
‘You really don’t have to,’ Lucy said. ‘Why don’t you stay?’
‘Can we, Mummy? Please?’ you pleaded.
‘Thanks,’ Ryan said. ‘But we need to be getting back.’ He looked at me as if expecting me to say something.
