SPENCE
I close the front door quietly. The light from the TV flickers into the hall, a low hum of voices filtering through. My back is against the door as I close my eyes. The sofa creaks. Footsteps. Heather’s. She moves faster than Al, her steps lighter. I straighten, bend down and take off my shoes.
‘How did it go?’ Heather rubs her eyes, wraps her arms around her torso.
Couldn’t have gone better. Pretty sure I’ll be asked for a second interview.
‘OK… they’re going to let me know.’
She smiles, a small smudge of mascara beneath her eyes.
‘That’s great news.’
‘How is she?’ I ask, eyes looking up the stairs towards her room. Along the wall are photos of Georgia, ranging from a baby to her first nativity play. We’d stayed up late the night before trying to sew a silver blanket into a star shape. Al had a YouTube tutorial on in the background, as she prepared for a job at a historical society. We had to rewind in a few places because she kept on swearing as the needle pricked her finger. The points ofthe star are different sizes, but Georgia’s gap-toothed smile grins up at Alice behind the camera.
‘Good.’ Heather’s voice brings me back. She steps towards me, eyes flicking up to the photo I was just staring at. ‘Missed you, of course, but we’ve had fun. Went to the cinema, made cookies that I should warn you against unless you want to break a tooth.’
I smile, but my skin pulls around my mouth. Everything feels too tight.
‘There’s some leftovers if you want something to eat?’ Her voice is hopeful.
‘I’ve eaten on the train. Think I’ll turn in.’
‘Spence?’
I turn, one hand on the banister. ‘Yeah?’
‘Are you… sure you want to do this?’
Am I sure I want to uproot my life, move halfway across the country? No. No I’m not. Am I going to do it anyway? Yes.
I nod. ‘It’ll be good for her. A fresh start. Closer to you. Your parents…’
‘And us?’ She steps towards me. Resting her hand over mine. My eyes land on her hand.
I’m not ready for this conversation. I’ve got a migraine. Despite saying I’m not hungry, I haven’t eaten since this morning. But her hopeful expression is too much for me to cope with right now.
‘Do you think there might be a chance for us…’ She looks up. ‘To maybe try… again?’
I think about how much it had hurt when she left Georgia in my arms. How she walked away.
‘I don’t know,’ I say honestly.
She nods, her voice wavering. ‘But there’s a chance?’
I hold my breath. Without Al in my life? ‘Yes. Yes, there’s a chance.’
She squeezes my hand. Then steps back. ‘Night, Spence.’
‘Night.’
* * *
I turn the heat up in the shower. I’ve not heard from Al. I know I told her we need space. We do. But part of me hoped… hoped what, exactly, you dickhead? That she’d realise how much she loves you? How she’s been more of a mother to Georgia than Heather ever was, that we’re her family even if she can’t see it? Fuck. I turn off the shower. Dry quickly. Throw on some clothes.
‘Dad?’ Georgia’s voice is quiet. I push open her bedroom door. She reaches over and blinks against the bedside light.
‘Hey. Sorry, thought you were asleep.’ I sit down on the bed next to her, reaching over and brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. I expect her to bat my hand away, but she just settles further down the bed.
