Page 66 of Second Chances at the Board Game Café

She put her head in her hands. She wanted to wail, like Max did on occasion. To howl that it wasn’t fair. Her big mistake had been in trying to make changes in their lives. They shouldn’t have left their little flat in Essendale. It hadn’t been great sleeping and working in their living room, but now they had nowhere. She shouldn’t have got carried away with lofty ambitions about fashion shows and Etsy shops; she should have been grateful that she was making a living doing something that she enjoyed. So what if most of her time was spent hemming curtains and replacing zips? It was still sewing, wasn’t it? Not quite her childhood dream, but it was close enough for a working-class Yorkshire lass. They’d been doing okay; her mistake had been wanting more.

‘Are you crying, Mum?’

‘Yes.’

‘Because the kitchen ceiling collapsed?’

‘Yes, and because you can’t get your trains, and I can’t get my clothes and my sewing stuff, and we can only stay here for four weeks, and I don’t know what we’ll do after that.’

‘I know how to cheer you up.’

Max went over to the shelves of books and games and DVDs, pulled out a box and waved it in the air. ‘Ta-dah! The Railway Children. Come on, Mum. Put the kettle on and I’ll see if the DVD player works.’

Taylor made pot of tea and opened a packet of custard creams, then they curled up on the sofa together, tissues at the ready, and Max pressed ‘play’.

They watched as Charles Waterbury was led away by the policemen, watched his wife’s stoic determination to protect her children from the truth and how she calmly moved them all to live in Three Chimneys.

Suddenly Max piped up, ‘Is my dad in prison?’

Taylor was taken aback by his question. He’d never asked why his dad didn’t live with them. ‘Prison? God no. He’s in Essex.’

‘So why doesn’t he come to see us?’

She rummaged under the sofa cushions, found the remote and pressed pause. ‘Dad just…’ Her voice trailed away. She mentally cursed herself. She should have had an answer ready for this moment, of course she should, but Max had never enquired before. He’d always accepted that it was just the two of them. He saw his dad once a year, normally around the time of his birthday, and he’d seemed happy with that.

Max turned to face her now on the sofa. ‘Does he have another family?’

Blimey, where had that come from?

‘No, he doesn’t,’ she said with more confidence than she felt, because the truth was that she knew nothing of John’s life in Basildon. ‘What on earth gave you that idea?’

‘There’s a girl in my class, and her dad doesn’t live with them because he has another family.’

She assumed he didn’t. ‘No, I don’t think your dad has another family.’

No-one told you what to say in these circumstances. Maybe it would be better for Max if there was a concrete reason why his dad wasn’t in their lives – prison or another family or whatever – but the truth was that John didn’t want to be with them. He’d made that crystal clear soon after Max was born.

Max took the remote control out of her hands and pressed play again. ‘I was wondering, that’s all.’

Taylor shifted uneasily and rearranged the cushions. ‘Press pause, Max.’ The film froze on the screen again. ‘Do you miss having a proper dad?’

‘Not really. Do you like Harry, Mum? I mean, like like?’

Where had that come from? Max had only met the man once.

‘What made you ask that?’

‘You smile when you see his train. Your cheeks go pink. I like Harry much better than Dad.’

So did she, Taylor thought, as Max pressed ‘play’ again and the screen came back to life.

The screen froze again a little later, as the children were arriving at Mr Perks’ house on his birthday, with gifts they’d gathered from the entire community.

‘Why’ve you paused it?’ Taylor said.

‘I didn’t. It just stopped.’ Max jabbed at the remote but the DVD refused to play. He stood up, went over to the machine and ejected it. ‘It’s scratched,’ he said, holding it up to the light. ‘Never mind. I can tell you what happens next. Mr Perks is an idiot and says he doesn’t want the gifts, because he thinks it’s charity and doesn’t like accepting help. And then he realises people want to help him, because they like and respect him, not cos they pity him. And the children hold up signs for the man on the train. And then the dad comes back and they all live happily ever after. The end.’

Taylor laughed. ‘Thanks, Max.’