I lean in and kiss him on the head.
‘You’re in hospital, sweetheart,’ I whisper. ‘You’re going to be all right. But just so you know, you’re grounded – until you’re 35.’
Chapter 52
Mum drops Leo and me back home in the morning. The sun is bright and clear after yesterday’s rain. Church bells are ringing in the distance and there’s the usual weekend roar from the sports ground a few streets away. It is a new day. We pull up in the drive to find the unexpected sight of Brendan sitting on the step, his head in his hands. When he looks up, despite the Superdry T-shirt and On Cloud trainers, his face is creased, his eyes craggy. He looks old.
On spotting him, my mother releases a grunt of derision. Then she remembers that Leo is in the back seat and focuses instead on parking. She pulls on the handbrake and I kiss her on the cheek.
‘Thank you, Mum. For everything.’
She pats me on the hand. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?’
‘We’ll take it from here.’
She nods. ‘I’ll ask your father to drop Jacob off after his golf lesson.’
I nod and step outside. Leo follows, muttering a ‘Thanks Grandma,’ that’s too muffled from remorse to come out fully formed. She still gets out to give him a hug, which only seems to exacerbate his shame.
Brendan stands up and, as Mum drives off, he immediately starts on Leo, having presumably decided that he needs to make up for his absence last night, and indeed the last eight years.
‘What happened? What have you got to say for yourself? Do you haveanyidea what you’ve put your mother through?’
‘Not now, Brendan,’ I say quietly, as I put my key in the door. ‘We’ll talk to Leo later.’
Our son shuffles inside, his head hanging so low that if he could make it disappear beneath his shoulder blades I suspect he would.
‘Go on up and get a shower, love. Then I think you should get yourself into bed.’
He plods up the stairs as I turn to Brendan.
‘Come in. I’ll put the kettle on. Sorry you had to wait a while. We weren’t sure exactly what time they were going to let us out.’
‘What happened, Lisa?’
I make some tea while I fill him in on as much of the detail as I can muster the energy for. He listens silently, his expression becoming more and more pained. When I finish, there is a short, numb silence as we both gaze at our mugs.
Then he says: ‘No wonder you sounded so irate in your message.’
‘I was stressed. And I was angry you weren’t there to deal with it, like I was. Quite honestly, I still would be if I wasn’t so shattered.’
He begins to chew his lip.
‘Listen, Brendan—’
‘Don’t sayanything, Lisa,’ he says emphatically. ‘Not a single thing. I agree with everything. Wholeheartedly.’
‘I was just going to let you know your flies are open,’ I tell him.
‘Oh.’ He looks down. Fiddles with his trousers. Turns away when they’re not immediately fixed, then back again.
‘Last night gave me a lot to think about. This is hard to admit, but I know I haven’t been very . . .present, I think is the word. As a father, I mean.’
‘No. You haven’t,’ I agree. I take a sip of my tea and take a moment to work out what I want to say about this. ‘And sometimes I think that’sfine. When you first left, I constantly told myself that I’m perfectly capable of raising these kids by myself, so why would I need you?’
He lowers his eyes.
‘But all I could think of last night was not,oh, how will I cope without Brendan. But that our child had done something stupid. He’d got himself in trouble. And that, despite all that, he deserved to have his father there to help get him out of this mess. Not just me and mynew friend.’
