SAM
Kate had a small patch of concrete and weeds outside her front door, on which lay two wet odd socks, a squashed ball, a twenty-pence piece, a blue pen, a pink hair tie and several pieces of junk mail being whirled around by a bitter wind. Ed and I, our hands buried in our jacket pockets, studied them as we waited for the door to open.
‘Hi, sorry, come in. ’Scuse the mess.’ Kate opened the door to complete chaos inside. But despite the mess – or possibly because of it – Kate looked amazing, dressed in a dark blue jersey dress ending at her knee that showed off her calves and ankles. Luke came running down the hallway, pursued by Rosie.
‘Nee naw, nee naw! I’m a fire engine, watch out!’ Luke tried storming between us to get out the front door and Ed grabbed him and held him upside down.
‘Luke, if you don’t behave, there will be no ice cream,’ Kate said sternly.
‘Ice cream? Are you crazy?’ Ed gestured to the freezing air outside the front door. Luke giggled and ran away from him, somehow turning up his fire-engine siren by at least fifty per cent.
‘Luke, too loud!’ Kate shook her head and led them to the kitchen, shouting over the noise. ‘He eats ice cream all year round – they both do. It’s like they don’t feel the cold. Luke!’ She shooed both kids into the living room and then joined us in the kitchen.
‘Sorry.’
‘What for?’ I said.
‘Luke, he’s . . .’
‘A six-year-old boy.’
‘A flippin’ loud one.’
‘We’re used to it, aren’t we, Ed?’
‘You should hear Mara’s fire-engine impression.’
Kate gave her brother an ineffectual shove in the arm.
‘Thinks he’s a funny man. But really you do need to keep an eye on him, he’s becoming a real tearaway.’ Kate looked towards the living room, where they could hear a fierce squabble escalating. Her face flickered with unease.
‘He’ll be fine, stop worrying.’ I put my arm on Kate’s.
Kate took a quick breath and nodded briskly. ‘You’re right. Of course you are! I worry too much about them. How’s Mara doing today?’
‘Bossing us both around already, isn’t she, Sam?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Yes. It’s only been three days and we’re thinking of sending her back.’
‘Oh, that’s great. I just hope she doesn’t do too much too soon.’
‘I’m sure she will. More importantly, little sis, tell us about this man then,’ Ed asked from his customary spot, leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms folded.
‘Well . . .’ Kate glanced at Rosie, who had reappeared and adhered herself to her mother’s side. ‘His name is Ben Garcia.’
‘You’re dating an Italian?’
‘His father was Italian I think,’ Kate mumbled as she rooted around in her handbag.
‘Needa date, Mummy,’ Rosie piped up.
‘No you don’t, Rosie, you’ve just had some food.’
‘Needa date!’
Kate sighed. ‘Ask nicely.’
‘Pease.’
‘He’s a friend of Olivia, you know, the girl I used to work with.’ Kate took some dates from a container and passed them to Rosie and then to Luke, who had materialised at the mention of food.
‘Would that be anorexic Olivia or bulimic Olivia,’ I couldn’t help asking.
‘Funny ha ha.’ Kate sighed. ‘Not all models are like that. I wasn’t.’
‘Much,’ I replied, and Ed sniggered.
‘You guys!’ Kate sighed.
‘Sorry,’ Ed and I said at the same time, pulling a ‘whoops!’ face at each other. We both knew perfectly well how Kate disliked that joke. She’d heard it too often for it to be funny any more but for us it was like an itch that just had to be scratched.
‘You’re right, we’re not funny, Kate. Very good babysitters, shit comedians.’
‘That’s true.’ Kate smiled.
‘And you should go, you’re going to be late. We can manage the little tykes, can’t we, Luke?’ And Ed growled at Luke, advancing his big tickling hands towards him. Luke screamed, delighted.
At the playground, both kids quickly ran off to get on with the serious job of playing. With the coffee having passed Ed’s critical scrutiny on our last visit, he was happy to nip into the park café while I perched on a bench to watch. The playground was crowded, the happy energy of kids outside filling the air. I took a deep, cold breath and let my eyes linger on the bare-limbed trees, starkly silhouetted against the blue sky. Soon Ed was there beside me with hot coffee.
‘Perfect!’ I smiled at him.
‘You’re in a good mood.’
‘It’s a lovely day, isn’t it? And I love being with the kids.’ I turned to find them in the playground, almost getting panicky when I couldn’t see them straightaway. So many children. But there they were, by the sandpit, digging away industrially in the soggy white sand.
Sitting there, I was reminded of the last time I was at the park and realised I hadn’t told Ed.
‘I bumped into Rebecca here last weekend.’
‘What was she doing in the park?’
‘Stalking you, I think.’
‘Really?’ Ed turned to me, his voice sharp.
I nodded. ‘Pretty sure. She wanted to know if I knew when you’d be home.’
‘What a pity I wasn’t in.’
‘She seemed to think so.’
Ed shook his head to himself, chewing something over in his mind. I waited for him to say something else but he didn’t offer anything.
‘Do you like her?’
Ed threw back his head and laughed, and I felt something strange – excitement? nerves? I didn’t know – spike through my belly.
*
Luke hoped they’d get an ice cream. Rosie would drip hers everywhere but he knew how to lick it all up quickly. There was the playground – what to do first? Slide, then train, then climbing rope, then swings, then . . . he ran around. Come on, Rosie. Their hair whipped around in the wind, and soon their hands were pink and frozen, smelling of the metal of the slide, the chain of the swings. Mummy was going out with a new friend, she said, which meant he and Rosie were out with Uncle Ed and Sam. And they would have ice cream – they promised. He looked over to them. They were talking again. Not looking his way. They were always talking. Luke could feel the unfamiliar weight of the big-boy coins in his pocket.
‘Look after this carefully, and you and Rosie will get an ice cream.’ Mummy had put the money in there. He wanted to go now. They were still talking. They could go now quickly and come back. Luke knew the way.
*
A boy in the sandpit let out a long wail, his sandcastle crushed by another kid. Ed and I glanced up, looking for Luke, expecting him to be the culprit. No Luke, no Rosie.
‘Monkeys, where are they?’ I got up and started walking over to the other equipment, with Ed following close behind. Not at the swings, not on the slide, not on the rope, not in the tunnel. Our heart rates increased.
‘Luke! Rosie!’ we called, glancing feverishly around the playground.
‘Ed, they’re not here!’
Ed was white. ‘You ask around the mums, I’ll have a look on the street.’
The mums all shook their heads at me, looking concerned, checking on their own children.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, where are they?
*
Down the street, they turned towards what Luke thought was the ice-cream shop. It was quiet. A big building ran down one side. Luke slowed down. He wasn’t sure he could remember that. The wind blew an empty crisp packet past them, turning over and over, almost flying. It made Luke feel uneasy.
‘Let’s turn around, Rosie.’ Luke tried to take her hand but a little orange cat bounced after the crisp packet. Rosie loved cats.
‘Cat!’ Rosie pointed excitedly.
‘Rosie!’ Luke shouted.
The cat bounced off ahead of him, turning into a door. Rosie ran after it, her nappy wobbling from side to side. ‘No, Rosie, that’s the wrong way!’ Luke shouted again but she kept chasing it, through the door. And she was gone. Luke looked behind him for a second and then ran after her.
Inside it was dark. There were stairs going up and it smelt funny. Rosie was clambering up the metal stairs – clang, clang, puff, puff – after the cat.
‘Rosie!’ Luke followed her up, up, up. Rosie was fast when there was a cat to follow. Every now and then there was a window, small and dusty. Through the third one he could see the park. He looked for the sandpit but the view was blocked by trees. He could hear mewing. There at the top of the stairs, next to a closed door, was Rosie, squeezing the cat.
‘Cat!’ Squeeze. ‘Cat!’ Squeeze.
‘Come on, Rosie, say bye bye, cat.’ He remembered Mummy saying that lots. Mummy. He wanted to be outside, at the park again. Rosie finally let go of the cat and they started down the stairs. But then there was a loud bang that echoed up the stairwell, and it was a little darker inside and much quieter. Luke tightened his grip on Rosie’s hand and tried to hurry her down the stairs but she was slow and uncertain going down, taking them one by one. Finally they reached the bottom. He reached up and tried to open the door. It was locked.