‘What has he done?’ Chloe asked. It was late on Monday evening. She had arrived back in the UK hours earlier, just in time for the start of term. ‘You might have fooled the others but you can’t fool me. I know something must have happened.’
Tasha was sorely tempted to tell Chloe exactly what she had done but she managed to resist the impulse. ‘It… it’s complicated,’ she said. ‘I really don’t want to talk about it. But, it’s not what you think.’
‘And there’s no way you can work it out?’
‘I’m hoping that we will.’
‘God, Tash, you poor thing. Are you OK?’
‘I’m just about holding things together.’
‘And the kids?’
‘They’re OK. Telling them was awful, but you know what kids are like… They don’t really understand. And it’s only been a couple of days. I’m not sure that it’s even sunk in yet.’
‘Where’s Charlie now?’ Chloe asked.
‘He’s staying at a colleague’s flat in the City.’
‘Alone?’
‘Yes, the colleague works abroad. Charlie is house-sitting.’
‘How were Mum and Dad?’
‘Confused. Very shocked. As everyone is, I suppose.’
‘I’ve already had a barrage of texts from her asking if I know anything.’
‘Well, I’m not surprised. You know what Mum’s like.’
‘She might be a pain in the arse at times, but you know she’ll be there for you no matter what.’
‘I know. In fact, she just called to tell me she is coming up tomorrow.’ Tasha felt a rush of sadness. She knew she was lucky to have such an amazing family around her, but Charlie was her true family. He had been for fourteen years. She felt unbearably lonely without him.
Ella had also called her the previous evening. They had had a stilted conversation thanks to the unreliable Wi-Fi. Having now explained the sorry story multiple times, Tasha was fed up with talking about it. She wanted to retreat into peace and solitude, away from prying eyes and awkward questions. Unfortunately she knew the latter were unavoidable. The new term started the following day. The children would no doubt tell their friends and the school grapevine would soon be thrumming with gossip.
Tasha had made an appointment with the children’s headteacher to inform the school of the separation. She felt it was better to be open. In a way she was grateful that it was the start of a new year. She hoped that the children would be so busy they wouldn’t have time to think about what was going on at home. Tasha, on the other hand, would have plenty. She was glad her mum was coming up to stay; at least she would have some company for a few days.
*
Tasha had broken down in tears during the meeting. She had arrived somewhat frazzled after overcoming a monumental meltdown from Max, who had been unable to locate his summer holiday project. Mrs Hemmingway had been sympathetic and full of assurances that the school would keep a close eye on all three children but Tasha had felt like an enormous failure as a mother nonetheless. When she arrived home, Tasha was extremely relieved to find her mother waiting on the doorstep.
A short while later she was sitting in the kitchen with a steaming mug of tea and a plate of chocolate biscuits.
‘So, darling,’ Lizzie said. ‘Are you going to tell me what is really going on?’
Tasha had been expecting this. ‘It’s out of bounds, Mum. I told you – it’s not up for discussion.’
Her mother paused; her green eyes peered at her daughter over the rim of her glasses. ‘OK,’ she said slowly, clearly sensing just how fragile Tasha was and not wishing to pursue a line of enquiry that might send her over the edge completely.
‘How are the children?’ she asked. Tasha filled her in on the morning’s events.
‘I’m not surprised. I’d expect them to be a bit out of sorts for a while. Molly’s daughter just divorced her husband and the children were absolutely distraught.’ Molly was a member of Lizzie’s book club. Tasha couldn’t help but wonder how exactly this information was meant to help her.
‘So, what do you want to do while you are here?’ Tasha asked, trying to change the subject.
‘I’ll help you with the children. I might not be much use in the kitchen but I can do the shopping, help with the laundry, keep you company. But first things first,’ Lizzie said as she looked around the kitchen. ‘This place needs a jolly good sort-out.’
When they had finished their coffees, they set about tidying up the house, which, Tasha had to agree, did look as though a bomb had gone off inside it. She just hadn’t had the energy to keep on top of the housework lately. It had been messy enough before the four of them had turned the contents of the house upside down in their search for Max’s project book earlier that morning. It had eventually been discovered underneath the Oxford English Dictionary. Charlie had apparently suggested Max use something heavy to press a four-leaf clover that he had found in the park. He had wanted to show it to his new teacher. When the clean-up was complete Lizzie and Tasha loaded the machine with washing and packed away some of the beach paraphernalia from Dorset that was still cluttering up the back garden.
After lunch they went for an invigorating walk along the river to get some fresh air, buffeted along the way by dancing gusts of wind. By pickup time they were both standing in the playground as the clock ticked half past three, ready to receive the children and hear all about their first day back. Tasha reached down and gave her mother’s hand a squeeze. Despite Lizzie having invited herself to stay, Tasha had never been more grateful to have her mother with her.
Later that evening she went into Bella’s room to tuck her in. Lizzie was with Max, reading him a bedtime story.
‘Mummy, please can I have a made-up story?’ Bella asked. ‘Like Daddy’s?’
The children had FaceTimed Charlie earlier and were clearly missing him not being around for their first day back at school. ‘I’m not as good as Daddy but I can certainly give it a try,’ Tasha said, stroking Bella’s hair as she bit back tears.
‘I really miss him,’ Bella said. ‘I wish he could tell me one. I wish he wasn’t living somewhere else.’
‘I know,’ Tasha said. She wanted to promise her that it wouldn’t last forever but she had no way of knowing what the future might hold.
Instead she tried to replicate one of Charlie’s stories. He always ensured that the children took the starring role and she did the same. She kept talking until Bella’s eyes closed, her long curly lashes resting gently on her cheeks. When she was asleep Tasha tiptoed out of the bedroom; she could hear Max and Lizzie talking. She paused outside the door to listen.
‘I told my teacher that Mummy and Daddy aren’t living together any more.’
‘Oh?’ Lizzie said. ‘And what did she say?’
‘She said that I could talk to her if I ever feel sad about it.’
‘That’s good.’
‘She was really nice,’ Max said. His voice was so small, it sounded as though he had been crying. ‘Is it our fault?’ he asked.
‘What do you mean, darling?’
‘Is it our fault Daddy isn’t here any more?’ Max repeated.
‘Darling, of course not,’ Lizzie said emphatically. ‘It’s got nothing at all to do with any of you. It’s just something that happens sometimes. It’s between Mummy and Daddy and no one else.’
‘Do you think Daddy will come home?’ Max asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ Lizzie said. ‘Try not to worry about it, darling. You just concentrate on school, on your lovely friends, and having fun. We all love you very much, especially Mummy and Daddy.’
Tasha bit her bottom lip to stop herself crying. She waited for a moment or two before going into the bedroom to kiss Max goodnight. He asked Tasha to stay with him until he fell asleep, something he hadn’t done for a long time.