Moving On

Farewell

Farewell

LEO CAME TO THE FUNERAL.

Ellen had thought he might – she’d asked Maggie to tell him about the death, not able to ring him with the news herself – and in spite of everything, the sight of him after months of absence brought a flood of feeling, a rush of persistent love that caused her to burst into fresh tears, a wild sobbing that didn’t seem possible, given all the weeping she’d done over the past months.

She was hardly aware of his arms going around her, of him cradling her head and murmuring her name and calling her his darling as she cried out her heartbreak, as it poured out of her in a torrent.

‘Come back,’ he said, when her tears were spent, when they sat together on the patio, everyone having left them alone. ‘Forgive me and come back,’ and she looked at him and wanted to, so badly it hurt.

‘How can I trust you not to do it again?’

‘I don’t know,’ he replied, ‘but I hope you can, because I swear it’ll never happen again.’

‘Why did it happen? Wasn’t I enough?’

He closed his eyes briefly. ‘You were. You are. I was weak, I gave in to temptation.’

She’d grown stronger: his betrayal had done that much for her. The old Ellen, the one who’d scarcely believed he could be interested in her, was gone. She was tougher now, able to look after a dying mother and a small daughter while making her way through a pregnancy without the love and support of a partner, and managing some freelance work too – but the thought of bringing up two children largely on her own, trying to compensate them for their father not being around, was still a prospect she hated.

She wanted so much to believe it could work – and moving back to London would mean returning to Creative Ways, the company that hadn’t deserted her when she’d left them so abruptly.

‘We’d need a bigger house,’ she said, ‘with a garden. I won’t go back to yours.’ She couldn’t bear the thought of entering it again, of walking into the bedroom where he’d betrayed her.

‘I’ll find one,’ he promised, taking her hands. ‘Can I come here when the baby is born, just to see it?’

‘. . . Yes.’

She was afraid. She was terrified to give him a second chance, but for the sake of their children – and yes, for herself too – she must find the courage to risk it.

She introduced him to her father, forgetting that she’d never told Leo of their encounter in Finchley all those months before. She didn’t explain – let Leo think he’d simply seen the death in the newspaper. The men were stiffly polite with each other. Leo called him sir, and hid the surprise the sight of him must have caused. Her father called him nothing at all.

To her great surprise, Danny showed up at the funeral too. ‘Mam saw the death notice,’ he said. ‘I was due a visit home.’ His hug was warm, and lasted longer than usual. She closed her eyes and leant into him.

‘How are you?’ he asked.

‘Sad. Scared. Trying to be hopeful.’

‘You’ll be OK, pal,’ he said. On being introduced to Leo he simply nodded and kept his arms folded, and Leo was equally distant. Her oldest friend and the man who’d betrayed her had little to say to one another.

Among the other mourners was Kevin, the one-time companion of her mother. She’d never known what title to give him. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, shaking Ellen’s hand, and she couldn’t tell if it was an apology for deserting her mother – and never once ringing to enquire about her when he knew she was sick – or the usual words of condolence.

Claire didn’t come to the funeral. Better if I leave it till after , she’d told Ellen on the phone, when everyone else is gone . You’ll need someone then. I’ll come next week, and I’ll stay a few days.

She stayed three days, spending the nights in her family home and the days with Ellen and Juliet. Telling Ellen of the assistant at the deli who’d been stealing from the till, and the new signage she’d organised, and the glowing review she’d got from a restaurant critic, while Ellen did her best to concentrate as her almost-born child kicked against the walls of her womb.

‘I’m coming back to London,’ she told Claire, when she got a chance. ‘Leo and I are going to try again. He’s convinced me to give him another chance.’

Claire gave no immediate answer. Ellen watched her topping up the gin she’d poured, adding ice cubes, stirring with a finger.

‘What do you think?’

Claire lifted her glass and took a sip. ‘Obviously I’d love to have you back, but are you sure you’re doing the right thing?’

‘I don’t want my children growing up without their father. And I still love him, and he seems genuinely sorry.’ She told her of his promise to sell his house and buy one more suited to a family. ‘Surely that proves he wants to start again?’

‘Selling and buying houses takes time, Ellen.’

‘I know. I’ll wait.’

‘Well, it’s your life, I suppose,’ Claire said slowly. ‘But I want nothing to do with him, not after what he did to you. We can see each other, you and me, when he’s not around.’

Silence fell. Ellen would have liked her to be a little more encouraging, but she could understand her concern. They sat on deck chairs while Juliet and a friend from playschool lay on the grass beneath the same gnarled apple tree that Ellen and Claire had climbed as ten-year-olds.

‘Have you help for when the baby arrives?’ Claire asked.

She had. The day after Claire left, Frances moved in with her suitcase. She was almost seventy-eight, and she’d taken the bus from Galway and a taxi from the station, the blue Beetle having finally been surrendered to a used car dealer. She looked worn out by the journey, but she hadn’t listened when Ellen had told her she’d find someone else – and truth to tell, Ellen hadn’t wanted her to listen.

‘So,’ she said, after she’d been installed in Ellen’s mother’s old room, and she and Ellen were sitting with glasses of lemonade in the garden, ‘how are you getting on?’

‘I’m OK.’ Ellen hesitated. ‘Frances, there’s something else.’ She told her of her plan to move back to London, and watched her aunt as she digested the news.

‘I won’t tell you what to do,’ Frances said eventually. ‘I’ll just hope for the best.’

‘It won’t happen again, Frances. He’s really sorry. He’s going to look for a bigger house for us.’

‘Is he indeed.’

And the very next day, ten days before she was due, Grace was born, and the world slowly started making sense again – and when Leo came to see his new daughter a few days later, Frances left him in no doubt about her feelings towards him.

You’d better behave yourself , she said, Ellen overhearing from the sitting room where she and the girls were waiting to see him. You’ll have me to answer to if you hurt her again – and Ellen was grateful that there was at least one person in the world who would always, always be on her side.

Two, she corrected herself. Frances and Danny.