‘He’s really good,’ Sonny pipes up. ‘He used to win all his races.’
‘Used to?’ Sophie give Ryan a questioning look.
I walk over to the kettle, gasping for a cup of tea.
‘It’s just boiled,’ Sophie says.
‘Great. Dying for a cuppa. Do you want a top up?’
‘No, I’m fine thanks.’ She turns back to Ryan. ‘So, does that mean you aren’t racing tomorrow?’
Ryan’s face clouds over and he shakes his head.
‘That’s a shame. Why not?’
‘He doesn’t sail anymore,’ Sonny says.
‘Shut up, Sonny,’ Ryan mutters.
‘Hey!’ I turn to my eldest son. ‘Don’t talk to your brother like that.’
‘Why don’t you sail anymore?’ Sophie asks. ‘Sorry, don’t mean to be nosy. It’s just, if you’re so good at it, it seems a shame not to carry on.’
I wait for Ryan’s rude response. I can’t even mention sailing these days without him snapping my head off. But to my surprise, he slumps down in his chair and sighs. ‘I wish Iwassailing tomorrow.’
I have to play it carefully now. Too much enthusiasm from me could put him off. I try to sound as casual as possible. ‘It’s not too late. I can get you entered if you like?’
‘Really?’
My heart swells at the hopeful light shining in his eyes.
‘Yes, of course.’
‘But I haven’t practised in ages.’
I check my watch. ‘There’s normally a Friday training session at four. Why don’t you go and get changed and join them. Then, if you feel up to it, you can ask if they can put your name down for the under twelves.’
‘Do you think?’
‘I just said so, didn’t I?’
‘Thanks, Mum, you’re the best!’ Ryan gets to his feet and races out of the room, his feet pounding up the stairs.
I’m thebest? This is a Ryan I haven’t seen for months. How come it’s taken a virtual stranger to turn my sad and moody child into a boy who’s almost excited about life again? Offering Sophie some temporary shelter may just have been the best decision I ever made. I glance over to see her talking to Sonny about his science homework. He’s really listening to her, totally engaged. I shake my head in wonder. She’s a regular Mary Poppins.
Sophie and I are sitting in the lounge, with the blinds and curtains drawn, eating cheesy pasta off trays on our laps. The kids ate earlier, as Ryan was ravenous after he got home from training. Turns out one of the juniors got sick and had to pull out of the under twelves race, so Ryan managed to nab their spot. He’s on cloud nine, and I’m pretty sure it’s all down to Sophie. I managed to persuade him to have an early night so he’s fresh for the race tomorrow; he didn’t take too much convincing, as he was shattered from his time out on the lake.
Conversation between Sophie and I has been a little stilted so far. She said she was fine having her dinner in the attic, but I thought it would be weird with her up there and me down here, so I said she should come down. I also need to broach the subject of what she’s going to do next.
I chew my food slowly and try not to dwell on the silence of the room. I usually read or watch TV in the evenings, followed by an early night. It’s strange having company. ‘I don’t know what you said to Ryan earlier, but I haven’t seen him this happy in ages.’
‘Really?’ Sophie’s feet are pulled up under her as she delicately spears a broccoli floret with her fork and pops it into her mouth. ‘I didn’t do or say anything special. The three of us just chatted while they did their homework.’
‘Well, whatever you did, thank you. I can’t tell you how much it means to have him actually talk to me without grunting.’
She shrugs. ‘He’s a teenager, I guess.’
‘Nope. He’s only eleven. Tall for his age though. And another thing, how did you get them to do their homework? They usually leave it until the last minute on Sunday evening.’
