EIGHT

Before

‘Are you okay?’ Helen asks, leaning across to my table. It’s Year 11 parents’ evening and, although I normally enjoy them, I could do without it tonight. This is the first time I haven’t sat beside Sophie, and it feels strange that she’s sitting at home with her babies, rather than here. Helen is friendly enough, but I’ve never felt comfortable enough to open up to her like I always have with Sophie.

‘I’m just tired,’ I tell Helen. ‘It’s been a long day.’ I stare at my appointment list and see that Justin Foley is due next. No doubt it will be his annoying dad with him again, but at least his father always turns up; many parents don’t bother.

They’re not due for a few minutes, so I pull out my phone to text Aiden. Things between us have been strained since I admitted to him that I don’t want to go ahead with adoption, that I’m not ready to take that step. My decision hit him hard. His dream of being a dad had been tangible, just for a short while, and now I’ve ripped it away. Now we are back to square one, with no idea when it will happen, or if it ever will.

I’m typing my message when Justin appears, still in his school uniform. ‘Hi, miss.’ He sits down, and when I look up I’m surprised to find he’s alone.

‘On your own?’ I ask, wondering how I can have this session without any parent present.

‘Oh, no, Dad’s here. He’ll be here in a second.’

And then the man himself appears. ‘Miss Conway,’ he says, holding out his hand for me to shake. ‘How are you?’

‘Fine, thank you. Let’s get started.’

For the next few minutes I try not to think about anything other than Justin’s progress, and after several moments, I even find myself warming, ever so slightly, to his dad.

‘I forgot to ask if you can do extra tutoring sessions, miss?’ Justin asks when we’re just about finished. ‘I’m getting a bit worried about exams now and don’t feel I’m on top of all the revision.’

His father hasn’t even mentioned this lately and hasn’t sought to have a meeting for a while, so I’d given it no further thought. I’m surprised the request is coming from Justin when his father is standing right here. ‘Um, I don’t really—’

‘We’d pay you, of course,’ his dad interjects. ‘Whatever the going rate is. I just want the best help for Justin.’

I’m about to repeat what I’ve already told him many times – that Justin is fine and really doesn’t need the extra help – but I glance at my student and see his desperation. ‘Please, miss.’

‘I suppose I could help,’ I say.

‘Great,’ says Mr Foley. ‘We’ll be in touch.’

They both stand to leave and before I have a chance to regret what I’ve just agreed to, my phone starts to vibrate on the table. It’s Mum. Again. She knows I’m doing a parents’ evening tonight, so this can only mean that she’s in trouble. Scooping up my phone, I apologise to the student and parents waiting to be seen next and rush outside to the corridor, mentally preparing myself for the latest disaster. Because things are only going to get worse.


‘Thank God you’re okay,’ I say to Mum, wrapping her in my arms.

She seems surprised by my concern. ‘Of course I’m okay, it was just a little accident, I’m not hurt.’

The kitchen windows are open, yet the smell of the charred tea towel won’t dissipate. I imagine it will be days before it does. ‘What happened, Mum? Are you sure you didn’t turn the gas on?’

‘No, I didn’t. I’d made a cup of tea and went upstairs to the bathroom but when I came back down that tea towel was on fire. Spread over the hob, which was on. I have no idea how it turned itself on, but I definitely didn’t do it. I had a sandwich for lunch so wouldn’t have needed to use the cooker.’ She rushes to the sink and lifts out a plate. ‘See. This was my sandwich plate. Cheese and tomato. I would have had ham but I’ve run out.’

‘But what about dinner?’ I check my watch and it’s nearly seven p.m.

‘That’s what I meant. I had a sandwich for dinner.’

I’m too relieved that she isn’t hurt to question her about her meal choices. ‘Oh, Mum. Thank goodness you’re okay. That’s all that matters.’

She places the plate back in the sink, even though she has a dishwasher and never washes by hand. ‘You don’t believe me, do you? You think there’s something wrong with me!’ She raises her voice.

‘No, please calm down. I believe you, okay?’

‘Good. Because I’m still your mother. I’m not a child and don’t need to be patronised.’

‘Okay, Mum, you’re right. Shall I make some coffee?’

‘No, thanks – I’ve just had one.’

I glance around the kitchen and there is no sign of a mug anywhere. It could be in the dishwasher, though. I mustn’t assume that everything she says is untrue.

‘It’s a lovely evening, shall we go and sit in the garden?’ I suggest, mainly so we don’t have to inhale these fumes any more.

‘Yes, good idea. I’ll just get the back door key.’

She fumbles in her bag and pulls out her key ring. It’s odd that she keeps the back door key on there; I’m sure she used to keep it separately in a kitchen drawer. Now’s not the time to question her about it, though.

I don’t know what compels me to check, but I pull the handle and find the back door unlocked.

Mum looks up. ‘Oh, how strange. I can’t remember when I went out that way last. Must have been this morning.’

Outside, we sit at the garden table, and Mum asks me about my day. She’s chatting so normally that I begin to believe I’ve been worrying for nothing. We all forget things and make mistakes. Maybe I’m suffering from anxiety and it’s causing me to think the worst about every situation?

‘When are you and Aiden going to come for dinner?’ Mum asks. ‘I haven’t seen him for ages.’

This is true, and it would be good for him to be around Mum for a bit, just to reassure me either way. ‘I’ll speak to him tonight. He’s going to Edinburgh soon to stay with his parents for a few days. They need some help redecorating the house, and he hasn’t seen them for ages.’

‘Oh, that’s nice. Lovely people, aren’t they?’ Mum says, smiling. ‘Aiden’s such a wonderful young man and it just goes to show what having a loving family can do for a child.’

It’s as if she knows, even though I haven’t told her we were considering adopting, and I know Aiden wouldn’t have spoken to her either. ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘It is. But it’s not for everyone.’

She sighs. ‘I worry about you, Eve. Oh, I know right now you’re the one worrying about me, but it’s been giving me sleepless nights to think of what you’re going through.’

‘We’re doing okay, Mum. And I’m only thirty-one. I’ve still got time, haven’t I?’

‘You always did have such a positive outlook,’ she says. ‘You got that from your dad, I think. Oh, I wish he was here to see what an amazing young woman you’ve turned into.’ Her eyes glisten. It’s not often that she talks about Dad, but when she does it always chokes her up. ‘Even when he was diagnosed with lung cancer – he carried on smiling, carried on working. He said he wasn’t going to let that beat him. And he never once moaned about working with asbestos for all those years, even though that’s what ended his life. What strength of character.’

‘I miss him,’ I say. As young as I was when he died, his absence has left a chasm within me that should have been filled with his huge personality.

‘We both do.’ She leans closer to me, as if she’s about to tell me something confidential. ‘Eve, you need to stop worrying about me and start thinking of yourself. I’m absolutely fine. There’s nothing wrong with me at all. Just focus on you and Aiden and having that family you’re both desperate for. Nothing else matters.’

We sit in the garden long after the sun has set, and I lose myself in Mum’s words and thoughts. They are so strong and clear that I convince myself I have got this all wrong, that I have been worrying for no reason. Mum is fine.

She has to be.


Aiden’s in bed when I get home, and despite my best efforts not to make too much noise and wake him, he stirs and opens his eyes. ‘Is everything okay with your mum?’

I tell him about my visit, and even though he’s looking at me, responding to my words, it feels as though he’s only half present. I’ve really hurt him by not wanting to proceed with adoption.

‘At least she wasn’t injured,’ Aiden says, rolling onto his back. ‘Jackie’s a tough woman. She’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about.’

‘I’m fine. I’m always fine,’ I tell him, changing into my pyjamas.

Aiden watches me, lines creasing his forehead. ‘Come here.’ He lifts my side of the duvet and pulls me towards him. ‘We need to stick together in this, Eve. Otherwise I’m scared of what might happen to us. Things like this rip relationships apart, don’t they?’

I nod and cuddle into him. And when our bodies merge together I convince myself that this time will be it. That in this exact moment we are making our baby. The one who will stay with us.