‘Mummy?’ Oscar pushes the door open and rubs the sleep from his eyes. Jen tries to smile at him but turns into my chest instead. I free myself and scoop him up, taking him onto the landing.
‘Mummy has had some sad news, Grandpa has fallen over and hurt his back.’
‘How?’
‘He . . . he was . . . dancing.’
‘Dancing?’ Hailey looks at me sceptically, joining her brother, her hand resting on her hip. ‘Grandpa doesn’t dance.’
‘Well, he and Grandma, well they started dance lessons.’
‘Like Strickly?’ Oscar asks, pulling his pyjama bottoms from between his bum cheeks.
‘Gross,’ Hailey states.
‘Did he wear sparkly trousers and have a jacket that is too small for him?’
‘Of course not!’ Hailey rolls her eyes but then hesitates. ‘He didn’t, did he Daddy? Grandpa didn’t wear sparkly trousers and a jacket that doesn’t do up?’
Jen joins us on the landing, blowing her nose noisily.
‘Mummy? Does Grandpa wear sparkly trousers when he and Grandma do the dancing?’
‘Dancing?’ Jen asks.
‘Um, yeah. I was just explaining that Grandpa has hurt his back when he went dancing with Grandma.’ I cringe, but Jen starts to laugh.
‘That’s right. Silly Grandpa . . . he . . . slipped on a—’
‘Glitterball?’ I question as she nods.
‘That’s right.’ She smirks. ‘Grandpa slipped on a glitterball and hurt his back. So I have to stay with them for a while to help Grandma look after him.’
‘Oh.’ Hailey looks at me. Her face is confused and understanding all at the same time.
I clap my hands. ‘Right, I’ll get you two some breakfast and then we’ll take Mummy. Let’s see if you can get to the bottom of the stairs before I count to ten. ‘One, two, three . . .’ I plant a kiss on Jen’s cheek as I pass her.
‘Glitterball?’ she asks.
I shrug my shoulders. ‘Four, five, six . . .!’
Chapter Forty-Seven
Jennifer
I’m sitting here watching. Watching as Ed tries to explain to my parents what is going on. Watching the way that Ed’s hands are gesturing in the same way as they do when he’s had a drink. Too much stimulation.
‘Adrenaline is what you mean.’ Kerry is sitting on the arm of the chair. She is wearing ripped jeans and a He-Man T-shirt.
Whatever.
‘Pardon, love?’ Dad asks.
‘Hmmm?’ I turn towards Dad, who is wearing Hailey and Oscar’s stage make-up. This consists of thick, drawn-on eyebrows, blue eye-shadow and a smudge of cerise lipstick with a splattering of glitter across the top of his cheeks.
‘Nothing,’ I reply. Ed opens his palms in a gesture that says ‘see what I mean?’.
‘I think I’ll just go and have a lie down.’ I make my excuses and return to the room that I spent my childhood in. There is a Friends poster still on the wall. My bottom creases the lemon duvet as I sit down. The familiarity is comforting and disturbing at the same time. I know there is a small burn mark tucked beneath the bottom corner next to the wall, from a piece of ash that landed on it when Kerry and I had been trying to smoke through the window. I look up to where Kerry is blowing out smoke, a roll-up held tightly between her middle and index finger. She’s humming ‘The Time of My Life’ from Dirty Dancing.
‘So what now?’ I ask her. It feels so good to talk to her again, to have her back with me . . . even if I know that she’s a result of, well, I don’t know exactly what she’s a result of. Not yet.
‘You already know,’ she replies.
My door knocks. I turn towards the sound, then back at the empty window and fight the tears.
‘Come in.’
‘Hey.’ Ed ducks beneath the door frame, carrying my suitcase.
‘You don’t need to knock.’ My words come out in a snap.
‘I just thought . . .’ His face screws up; the fight that was there just seconds ago disintegrates before my eyes. His shoulders drop as defeat sinks into him, forcing tears to escape. His legs don’t seem to know what to do with his body: he steps back, steps forward, his head shakes from side to side then hangs towards his chest, his eyes lift towards me, seeking refuge. The case drops to the floor, his body surrendering into my arms. He’s hardly making a sound apart from the odd gasp of air. I hold his face in my hands and begin kissing his eyelids, his cheeks, whispering over and over, ‘It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault, shhh, it’ll be OK.’
We lie sandwiched together on the single bed, his head resting on my chest. Beneath us, I can hear the kids playing Snakes and Ladders, hear a lawn mower purring along next door’s garden, and feel the heat of the sun, warm on my skin.
‘Do you remember the day your dad caught us at it in here?’ Ed asks, his voice deep and comforting.
I stroke his hair, laughing softly.
‘God, I thought I’d never be let back in the house after that.’
‘Me neither. Thank God it was winter and the day the heating had broken down . . . we were still almost fully clothed under the duvet.’
‘Do you know what he said to me as I was leaving? He said, “Edward . . .” Ed mimics Dad’s accent, making him sound like a Peaky Blinder, ‘that young girl up there is precious to me. Make sure she’s precious to you too.’
‘I never knew that.’
‘Kerry was their daughter, but you were their daughter too. No matter what happens. Try not to forget that.’
‘Do you fancy an under the cover shuffle before you go? For old times’ sake?’ I whisper.
The kids’ footsteps bound up the stairs, answering my question for us. The door flies open and they pile into the room.
‘Come on, Daddy!’ Oscar shouts. ‘Lego Movie starts in sixty-two hours!’
‘Minutes, dummy,’ Hailey corrects from behind him.
‘OK, OK . . . let’s give Mummy a big cuddle.’ He pulls himself up, reaching his hand out to pull me up too.
Oscar jumps onto my knee and hugs me briefly, then whispers into my ear, ‘Daddy said I can have popcorn AND chocolate, but shush. He said I’m not supposed to tell you.’ He propels himself from the bed before turning around, hands on hips, head dipped, serious face and a deep voice announcing, ‘I’m Batman.’
I open my arms to Hailey, who steps into my embrace, and hold her tightly, kissing her head. When I pull away, she is looking into my eyes; I can see my reflection in her glasses below her eyebrows, which are raised in concern, worry making her lips wobble. I wipe away the tear that is running down her cheek.
‘How long will you be staying here helping Grandpa?’
I look over to Ed who looks away, both of us pretending we haven’t noticed the tone of Hailey’s question.
‘I don’t know,’ I reply honestly. ‘As long as it takes for . . . Grandpa to get better.’
‘Will the doctors help, um, him?’
I swallow and nod. ‘They will and then, once Grandpa has had some time to heal, I’ll be able to come home.’
‘And will he be fixed? Will he, you know, be normal again?’ Her question pulls my body straight, makes my heart speed up. I start to open my mouth, but no sound comes out.