Chapter 14 #2
‘I mean it, Tig, I am furious. How did he let things come to this?’ Nina ran her hands through her hair and remembered the smirk on Mr Ludlow’s face.
‘I hate that he was suffering, but I will never forget what it felt like to see my boys walk through the front door and having to tell them that their dad had died. And then the bailiffs pitching up and invading our home . . .’ She paused and took a deep breath, her teeth clenched.
‘Connor has broached the topic of how Finn died and I can’t stand that it’s another level of shit for him to deal with!
I hate it.’ Nina stared at her sister, as if hoping for consolation or a solution.
She offered neither. ‘And I don’t know what I’ll say to Connor if he asks again, and the thought of Dec thinking similar makes my heart sink, because they may have lost their dad, but their hero is intact, despite everything.
I have insisted that it was an accident because I want to protect them.
What would it do to their self-esteem if they suspected their dad didn’t even think they were worth hanging round for? ’
‘It’s more complex than that. It always is, honey,’ Tiggy offered.
‘I know that. But if they believed that their dad had . . .’
They were silent for a beat or two. ‘With hindsight, do you think he was coming close to telling you the truth about your situation? Had he given you any hints, mentioned anything?’ Tiggy asked.
Nina pictured Finn swilling the red wine around his glass before swallowing it. ‘Why don’t we go to the Maldives for Easter?’
‘No.’ Nina shook off the memory and exchanged a look with her sister. ‘No, he didn’t show any signs that anything was amiss. The way he spoke and acted, you would have thought that we were on top of the world. And that kills me too.’
‘I think, Nina, that not only did Finn not know how to handle his love for you, thinking that keeping you cloistered away was the way to hold you dear, he also didn’t know how to dismantle the life he had constructed, the illusion he had created.
I don’t agree with what he did, but I feel for him, I do, because of how it ended. ’
Her sister’s words acted like a blanket; they not only comforted her, but also partly smothered the flames of anger that had flared inside her, bringing some measure of calm.
‘But you know,’ Tiggy continued, ‘there is no point mulling over things that you can’t change.’
‘I guess so.’
‘I know so,’ Tiggy asserted. ‘What would it change if you had it confirmed that his death wasn’t accidental?’
‘What would it change?’
‘Yes. I mean, the end result would be the same. How would it feel different?’
‘I think it would change everything! The fact that he left me to face this shit storm alone, the fact that he chose to leave us, but mainly,’ Nina cried, ‘mainly the fact that he didn’t know me well enough to know that he could talk to me about anything and trust that I would have helped in any way I could. ’
Nina felt Tiggy’s arm around her waist, pulling her close.
‘I think Finn wanted everything to be perfect for you – him included.’
‘I can’t stand to think that he didn’t know the one thing about me that mattered the most, the most important thing for him to know. That no matter what, I had his back, I was there for him . . .’
A moment of silence passed before Tiggy spoke. ‘I spent years missing Mum so much that I could barely function. With just Dad and us in the house in Frederiksberg, it was quiet, awkward. She was our glue.’
Nina remembered her quiet, brooding sister.
‘But then Dad said something to me that made a difference, and it might make a difference to you.’
‘What was it?’
‘He said that he believed people are on the earth for as long as they need to be. Some for a long, long time, contributing a little bit every day to the world, and others are only here for a shorter time, so they have to do really incredible things in the time they are given. He said that Mum was only on the planet for thirty years, but in that time, she married him and made two beautiful children.’ Tiggy looked up and smiled.
‘He said she filled us up with all we would need to know, even though she didn’t get to stay and see us grow up.
I believed him and it made me confident. ’
‘That’s lovely.’
‘It is lovely, and maybe Finn did the same. He filled you all up, you, Connor and Declan. He gave you everything you would need to go on, with or without him. Maybe he never had any doubt that you would cope, no matter what, maybe him not planning is a compliment. He saw that determination that lurked inside you, hidden, admittedly for a while, but still there nonetheless.’
Nina exhaled. ‘Thank you.’
‘See, that’s what sisters are for. Sisters put things right, because they know you. Much better than any crappy new rugby-mum friends.’
‘Are you jealous of my friends now?’ Nina laughed, glad to diffuse the heavy atmosphere. ‘Jeez, you are so childish!’
‘As if I’d be jealous of them! They are boring! Want one?’ Tiggy shook a cigarette from the packet and lit up.
‘No, I don’t!’
‘God, your tone! You honestly sound like Gran.’
Tiggy looked like a rocker chick in her skinny jeans and denim jacket, cigarette held aloft. ‘That is quite possibly the very worst thing you could ever say to me,’ Nina huffed.
‘I disagree.’ Tiggy took a long drag on her cigarette and blew the smoke out the open window. ‘I think the very worst thing would be if I said that you looked like Gran!’
Nina turned to face her sister. ‘Oh my God! Do I?’
Tiggy studied her face. ‘A little bit, yes.’
‘I really hate you,’ Nina whispered.
‘I really hate you too,’ Tiggy replied, and took a deep drag.
‘Go on then, give me one.’
‘What?’
‘A cigarette!’
‘For real?’ Tiggy laughed.
Placing the cigarette between her lips, Nina bent forward for Tiggy to light it. Taking a deep drag, Nina blew the smoke out between pursed lips, fighting the desire to cough.
Today was a big day for Nina: June the twenty-sixth.
Connor’s sixteenth birthday. The first birthday they had celebrated without Finn.
Nina woke to the sound of the alarm clock, and lay back on the pillow with her hand on her stomach, thinking about the day her first child had been born.
She pictured Finn standing in the maternity ward, crying with his hands in his hair, ‘I’m a dad!
I’m a dad! To a boy! I got a boy! A son!
I can’t believe it!’ Nina had watched from her bed as the nurses patted his back, chuckled to each other and offered him tissues.
She had the newborn Connor in her arms and, despite the deep ache to her bones, she wondered if she would ever be able to wipe the smile of joy from her face.
Oh, Finn. She sighed before she rose, then washed her face, and fastened her unruly hair with a headband.
She heated a croissant, a special treat purchased in secret, and poured glasses of orange juice, trying not to think of the previous year when she had piled the breakfast table with lavishly wrapped gifts.
Connor had peeled the paper with little enthusiasm.
She and his dad had teased him about getting old, whilst sipping espresso from their fancy built-in machine and recalling how Finn had run around the ward fifteen years ago, crying like he had won the jackpot .
. . This was the Finn she wanted to remember, the wonderful dad.
Connor came into the sitting room dressed for school.
‘Happy birthday, darling.’
‘Thanks, Mum.’
He opened his card from Tiggy and found a crisp ten-pound note. He beamed.
Nina had deliberated long and hard over his birthday gift.
For the first time, she wasn’t able to buy an array of presents and simply hope that he liked one.
And in fact, the thought that she did this in the past left her feeling a little sickened.
The solution came to her one evening as she cleaned her bedroom, going through her things.
Nina now placed the small black box in Connor’s palm. He looked at her quizzically, before carefully, slowly, lifting the lid of the box. She watched him tuck in his lips and bite down as his eyes misted at the sight of his dad’s signet ring.
‘He would want you to have this, Connor, and he would want me to tell you happy birthday from your dad, and that he loves you and is so very proud of you. As am I. You have been through far more than I would ever have wished for you at this age, and you are coming through the other side as a wonderful man. A wonderful man.’
She watched the tremble of his mouth as tears escaped down his flushed cheeks. He walked forward and placed his arms around her and she held her son to her while he cried, feeling closer to him than any time in recent memory.
Connor stepped back and pulled his father’s ring from the box.
Finn had told them all many a time of how he had bought the thick, crested band with some of his first profits.
He explained how the rich boys he mixed with sported college rings that screamed of an education he could only dream of.
This little chunk of gold represented success to him, and he wore it every day of his life, with pride.
She had planned on pawning it last, letting it stay in her possession for as long as possible.
And now with a job and an income, she felt able to give it to Connor. A reminder of all his dad had achieved.
Connor placed it on his little finger, before splaying his hand and admiring the gold that glinted in the light.
It looked strange on his long fingers, shining in the dimness of their run-down flat, but the look on Connor’s face told her it gave him a connection to his dad that was more precious than the item itself.
‘It fits me,’ he said with measured pride, as if having the same-sized finger as the man he worshipped was a thing of note. ‘I shall look after it, Mum.’
‘I know you will.’
‘I won’t wear it to school, only for special occasions.’