Before you were fifteen, you’d found a Saturday job at an animal shelter. It was as though you’d found your calling; before long, it was taking over your life. You regaled us with stories of goats in deep straw beds, ex-riding-school ponies that had come to retire and chickens that roamed grassy fields, cats that slept in the hay barns.
In between, you dedicated yourself to raising funds to support them. It fired your heart to see such kindness from people. But there was another side to what you did.
One late Saturday afternoon, you came home devastated. A rescue had come in, an old pony who was sick. Too sick – they couldn’t save it.
‘I know it was right…’ you sobbed. ‘I didn’t want him to suffer. It was just… It was so sad…’
Eventually I got it out of you that it broke your heart because the pony had never known how love felt. That was what you couldn’t bear – that every creature, however young or old, should feel safe, know love.
Ryan ran out of patience with you. ‘For Christ’s sake. I’m going to call them and tell them you won’t be going back.’
‘No way, Dad.’ You were horrified. ‘It isn’t up to you what I do.’
Ryan started getting bolshy. ‘I think you’ll find I have a say in the matter.’
You rounded on him. ‘Why is it wrong that I’m upset about this? It’s normal. It was a really sad day.’ Your voice wobbled. ‘I care about the animals. It doesn’t mean I shouldn’t go back.’
‘I agree.’ I hated seeing you upset, but I was with you all the way. ‘It’s Lexie’s choice.’
I watched the wall grow between you and your father. He refused to drive you to work after that.
‘You know why, don’t you, Mum? It’s so he can sit and drink at home without us watching him.’
‘I’m sure it isn’t.’ I knew he had a problem but the violence had stopped. And if I divorced him, I’d have to prove his unreasonable behaviour. But in defending Ryan, I knew I was betraying you.
Against a backdrop of conflict at home, I found solace as I always did in nature, searching for the first signs that spring was coming – the fading of winter, the gradually lengthening days. The earliest daffodils that were followed by tulips; the softness of cherry blossom you used to scoop up in handfuls, then scatter onto the grass around you.
‘Smell this.’ Lucy passed me a bunch of scented paperwhite narcissus. ‘Heavenly, aren’t they?’
The scent momentarily distracted me. ‘Beautiful.’ I passed them back to her. ‘In another life, I’d grow all the flowers and leave you to deal with the wedding side of things.’
Lucy looked at me thoughtfully. ‘You know, that really isn’t such a bad idea.’
‘We should put it on the back burner as a plan B,’ I suggested. Firstly, we had no land for growing flowers. But none of us knew what the future held.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ Lucy said. ‘We’re getting a lot of enquiries coming in for weddings this year. Do you think it’s time we started looking for somewhere bigger? I’ve been doing the sums and I’ve worked out what we can afford. I’m not sure what, though. It isn’t enough for a high street shop.’
‘But we never wanted to open a shop,’ I reminded her. ‘We need space, that’s the main thing. If it’s in town, that would be great. But it doesn’t have to be.’
‘We should start looking,’ Lucy said. Then she added in a different voice, ‘Edie? Have you thought about talking to someone?’
I looked at her, baffled. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean about Ryan. I’m not just talking about his latest thing with Lexie. It’s what his behaviour is doing to you – to all of you,’ she said quietly. ‘I see it in your face. Every day. How much longer can you go on like this?’
I remembered Ryan suggesting the same, but only because he didn’t like something I’d said to him. ‘It isn’t that bad,’ I said too brightly. But I’d been trying so hard, for so long, to hold it together. To stop now… But then my façade dropped. ‘Sometimes it’s like I’m going mad, Luce.’ My voice wavered. ‘I keep having these dreams. Something happens to my children. I know they’re only dreams. But it’s like a warning, telling me I have to do something.’
‘Fuck, Edie.’ Lucy looked worried.
‘I know. I’ve been keeping it to myself.’ I wiped away the tear that rolled down my face. ‘I can’t talk to Ryan about anything.’
‘It isn’t how it should be,’ Lucy said gently. ‘If things are this bad, maybe you should think about what the best thing to do is, going forward.’
‘You mean leave him?’ I stared at her. ‘This isn’t just about me,’ I said. ‘This is about all of us.’
‘Which means it’s also about you,’ Lucy reminded me.
I sighed, a heavy sound that came from deep inside me. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should try to find someone to talk to. But even that isn’t straightforward. How will I know if they’re any good?’
