A roaring fire crackled and hissed in the hearth at the pub Becca had chosen for lunch. They sat at a table nearby to warm themselves from the frosty October air outside, placing their orders with a passing waiter and asking for a couple of glasses of Merlot.
‘So how was the fortieth last night?’ Tasha asked, slightly jealous having spent the evening alone defrosting the freezer.
‘Fun, thanks, though I’m feeling a little worse for wear this morning. I probably overdid it a bit.’
‘Was it weird without Andrew?’ He had returned to Iraq the previous week.
‘I’m actually quite used to it. Though obviously I’d rather not be on my own.’ Realising that Tasha might not have much choice in future, Becca added, ‘Sorry… that was insensitive.’
‘Not at all. And you’re right, going to parties and stuff must be hard. I haven’t actually been to anything yet without Charlie. I keep making excuses so I don’t have to.’
‘Ah… hair of the dog!’ Becca said as she sipped the wine that had just arrived. ‘It’s so nice to come up to the city and have some time without the children.’
‘I bet. I imagine the next few months are going to be pretty manic for you.’
‘Don’t remind me!’ Becca laughed.
‘How did Andrew seem when he left?’
‘Riled up and ready to go but obviously sad to leave us at the same time, especially the kids.’
‘And how did Charlie seem the other weekend?’
‘We didn’t really talk about you two. It didn’t seem right to bring it up in front of the kids, and at dinner on Saturday night I couldn’t get a word out of him. He seemed tired though. I can tell he isn’t as happy as he always has been with you.’
This made Tasha feel the tiniest bit better. Their plates of food arrived, piled high with roast pork and all the trimmings, including huge strips of golden brown crackling.
‘This is absolutely delicious!’ Becca said as she devoured her food. ‘The perfect hangover cure.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Tasha agreed. ‘And how does Daisy seem to be coping with it all?’
‘She’s drawing lots of pictures of Andrew, she constantly makes him presents and cards for us to send him or give him when he gets home. Apparently it really helps children deal with their emotions if they write things down, or draw.’
‘That makes sense. Did I tell you about the worry box we have for Max?’
‘I don’t think so. What is it?’
Tasha explained how it works. ‘He hasn’t used it much. I keep checking it before bed and telling him that it’s there if he wants it.’
‘Perhaps even knowing that he can use it helps him feel less worried. What about Flora? Is she still up and down?’
‘Not too bad at the moment. She goes through phases of thinking she is to blame. Even Bella has been a little quieter than usual lately.’
Becca was the ideal person to talk to. She had a lot of experience with children missing their father’s presence, after all. She shared a few ideas that she’d tried with Daisy, like keeping a journal for him to read when he got home. They treated themselves to sticky toffee pudding for dessert with their coffee, before paying the bill and heading back to their family homes, ready to welcome their various children back for a cosy Sunday afternoon in front of their own fireplaces: Daisy and Fergus back from Becca’s mum, and Max, Flora and Bella back from a weekend at Charlie’s.
That evening Tasha checked inside Max’s worry box as she tucked him into bed. There was a note inside covered in his spiky writing and she asked him if she could read it.
‘I am worried about Christmas,’ it said. She read it aloud with a lump in her throat and asked Max what he meant.
‘Where will we be?’ he asked. ‘Will we be at Daddy’s or here? Will Santa come to Daddy’s? Will he know where we are? Will we all be together?’
Tasha couldn’t bear it; he had obviously been thinking about it a lot. Her heart swelled with emotion as she tried her best to answer each question.
‘Darling, part of the magic of Santa is that he always knows how to find children. He knows exactly where each child in the world is. Otherwise, if you were to stay with friends or go on holiday you might not get any presents, and that wouldn’t be fair, would it?’
Max seemed relieved to hear it. ‘OK.’ He nodded.
‘And even if we are not all together at Christmas, we will always be together in our hearts. It’s like Uncle Andrew. Even when he is away he always stays with Auntie Becca and Daisy and Fergus, right in their hearts.’
He seemed somewhat comforted by this, but not entirely. Tasha tried her best to reassure him, giving him extra stories as she tried to settle him down to sleep. For Tasha, seeing the children struggle was hands down the worst part of it all. She just couldn’t bear to see the price they were paying for her mistake.