Epilogue II
Six Months Later
MAC
‘What does Mummy like with her crackers, again?’ I turn, hearing Louis’s slipper-shod feet scuffing against the floors.
‘She likes the smelly blue cheese,’ he says with a yawn. ‘The one you say makes her mouth smell like dirty feet,’ he qualifies sleepily. ‘But she said she couldn’t have none no more. Maybe ’cause she ate it all?’ He climbs up onto the high stool, giving me a very Gallic shrug, the light from the fridge illuminating his wee face.
Where has the time gone, I wonder, as I notice, not for the first time, the softness of his baby face melting away. He’ll be five his next birthday, and he looks more like a wee man with each passing week.
And Mummy? That’s Ella these days. Something that was Louis’s suggestion. And why not? She’s raising him—we’re a team. In Louis life, Anneliese will always beMaman, where Ella is Mummy, and probably Mum someday.
Louis still has the gold framed photograph of Annelise next to his bed. We talk of her often, and sometimes, Louis asks to look at his baby photographs, those of his mother holding him. Though his memories of her will probably fade, she’ll always be in his heart.
‘Why are you up so early?’ I ask, pulling out the milk to pour him a glass when his eyes flick over his shoulder furtively.
‘I didn’t sleep so good,’ he whispers. ‘I was frightened the teeth fairy would take the special box away.’
‘What box?’
‘Mummy’s special gift. The hard corner keepded poking me in the head.’ As though to reinforce the point, he prods his skull with his finger.
‘What was it doing under your pillow?’ I ask, folding my arms and leaning against the countertop.
‘You said I had to put the ring somewhere safe,’ he hisses furtively. ‘So I putted it under my head. But then I dreamed the teeth fairy took it away.’
Ah, yes.Thering. The one Louis and I chose yesterday when I’d busted him early from school. Who says schools are all about league tables and performance indicators, anyway? His teacher looked like she’d wanted to cry when I’d called in for him and told her why I needed him.
The ring.Fuck, I hope she likes it. A ruby to match the red strand the sun brings out in her hair. This from my boy, the poet. And diamond’s from me. For eternity.
‘Don’t worry, pal,’ I whisper, trying to keep a straight face as I ruffle his hair. ‘You’re not on the tooth fairy’s schedule just yet.’
Louis purses his lips as he shakes his head as though expressing his doubt over my knowledge of the wee folk.
‘You’ve been hangin’ around with your granny too much. You’re starting to look at me like she does.’ I purse my lips, pointing a finger at him while waggling my head. His response is to burst into a fit of giggles that would brighten the greyest of days.
‘What are you two plotting?’ asks Ella, coming into the room. ‘You’re up to something, I’ll bet?’
‘Daddy is making silly faces. He says I look like Granny.’
‘Don’t you want to be like Granny?’ she asks, humour colouring her tone.
‘No! She’s so old—and a lady! I want to be a big man, like my daddy. Or a wat like Master Splinter.’
‘Close choices, my friend,’ she says, kissing his cheek as he climbs down from the stool to chase Charles, the otherwat—I mean rat. Dog. Same thing. ‘Especially in the looks department.’
‘Charming,’ I respond as she presses her lips to my cheek.
‘You know I’m kidding. Your body is a temple, and I’m—’
‘Its virgin sacrifice.’
‘That ship sailed a few months ago. Were you there?’
My only response is to growl. Then change the subject. It’s that, or pounce on her.
‘What’s on your timetable today?’ I ask, pressing my lips to her cheek. She’s at uni now. Is she enjoying it? I think that depends.
