Chapter 16 #2
‘Thank you, yes. It’s been a lovely day.’ Nina smiled.
She shook her head. ‘I don’t mean today, Nina. I mean these last few months. You took those posh kids of yours and you swept them up and kept them safe and kept them sane. You are a good mum.’
‘Good Lord, what has come over you? How many glasses of wine have you had?’
‘I mean it.’
‘Thank you, Tig.’ She reached over and squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘I think I like the new you. Being part of a couple suits you.’
‘I really like him.’
‘I know, Tig.’ The two sisters leaned in together, laughing conspiratorially.
Connor strode over with his arm outstretched. ‘Come on, Mum.’
‘What? You don’t want to dance with me!’ She tutted.
‘Actually I do.’ He took her hand and walked her to the dance floor. She felt Finn’s signet ring against her fingers. Ed Sheeran’s ‘Thinking Out Loud’ started to play, and she held her son’s hand, with his other on her waist.
‘I wish Dad could see me,’ he said, without anguish.
‘Dad is you. He’s half of you. He knows you, darling, and he is proud of you. Always was and always will be.’
‘And I’m half you.’
‘Yep.’
Connor stopped dancing and looked her in the eye. ‘I was so scared when we came here, Mum.’
‘Me too,’ she confessed.
‘For my whole life I had never seen you do anything apart from buy things for the house, cook us food and drop us at school. And when I stepped from the van that day, I couldn’t begin to imagine how we were going to live.
I was petrified. I thought it was going to be down to me to keep everything together and I didn’t know how!
And you could only say everything was going to be okay, but I could see you didn’t have a plan. ’
Nina felt the familiar slip of tears down her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry . . .’ she managed.
‘No. Don’t be sorry, Mum. It wasn’t your fault. You were as ill equipped as I was, as I am, but you did it. We did it.’
‘Yes, we did.’ She rested her head on his shoulder.
Nina parked the van at the kerb and beeped the horn.
She laughed, thinking of all the people she might be disturbing on this Saturday morning and was only saddened that Joshy had gone home – she would have liked to wake him up at this ungodly hour.
She had saved the cash for this trip to Saltford and that in itself felt like an achievement.
It represented the plain, home-made birthday cake that Connor had been given, hair-washing without shampoo, and countless rumbly tummies for which she had to apologise while she waited to eat her free lunch.
Tiggy came out of the building with the boys and jumped into the front seat next to her sister.
Despite being up so early, Connor was still high on his award and Declan had jumped at the chance of the trip, of a day out in a van.
Nina hoped good might come from it, maybe an open discussion that would help carry them forward, despite their destination.
It was odd driving along the winding A46, the city of Bath looming in the distance.
They had been away for nearly six months, but it could have been a lifetime.
It was a grey, rainy morning – entirely appropriate as they headed towards the city that held a mishmash of memories, most recently ones of sorrow.
‘Are you okay, boys?’ She glanced at the back seat. They both gave stiff nods. Connor kept his eyes on the window, unlike Declan clearly aware of the road on which they travelled and the fact that a mile or so further along was the place where his daddy had died.
‘I bet it’s strange heading back to Bath, isn’t it?’ Tiggy asked.
‘I keep thinking we are going home and that makes me feel a bit sad, and I think that maybe Dad is at home and that makes me even sadder.’ Declan spoke so candidly. Nina’s confidence in the decision to bring the boys wavered.
She reached back between the front seats and patted his leg.
They drove along in silence until they reached Hollydown Farm, parking in front of the rather grand Georgian farmhouse.
It reminded her of a miniature doll’s house, but in life size.
Mr Firth, his wife and one of their children, a blonde girl in her mid-teens, came out of the front door to greet them.
They were well dressed and groomed, and as they stood in front of their duck-egg blue front door with its brass lion-head knocker, Nina felt a wave of déjà vu for a life that had passed.
Beautiful house, check. Expensive clothes and hairdo, check.
Happy, smiley child, check. Successful husband, check.
And yet, rather than look at the trio with envy, she felt something closer to unease, knowing that her own perfect life had been built on a foundation of shifting sand.
And when it shifted, it happened quicker than she could ever have imagined.
‘Welcome, Nina! It’s good to see you.’ Mr Firth was his usual, kind, welcoming self. ‘And boys, hello!’
She watched with a measure of pride as first Connor and then Declan stepped forward to shake the man’s hand.
She introduced Tiggy, and the group declined the offer of tea from his charming wife, who looked at Nina with an expression that was a combination of pity and kindness.
She fought the temptation to explain that she now had a job and was planning to study, and that her boys were happier than she had hoped for.
Instead, she smiled politely, realising that it didn’t matter what Mrs Firth or anyone else thought. It was what she thought that counted.
The troupe made their way to a steel-constructed barn, one of a number of outbuildings.
Mr Firth undid the giant padlock and hefted the wide door open.
Inside sat a ride-on mower and various bikes mounted on wall brackets.
Their boxes lined the wall, marked in a hurried scrawl ‘Garden Stuff’, ‘Picnic’, ‘Christmas Lights’.
Just recently the contents had seemed so important, causing her sleepless nights of concern as she planned what and how to pack.
She ran her fingers over a box and wondered how the things inside would now fit into her smaller life, where space was at a premium, leisure time was limited and the immediate needs of her family were the primary concern rather than festive holiday lighting.
These frivolous trappings contrasted with how close she had grown to her sons and her sister, in the face of hardship and struggle, far closer than at any time of affluence.
‘Is this the desk? I don’t think I’ve seen it before.’
Connor lifted a paint-spattered dustsheet to reveal a narrow console table.
In its former life, it had sat in a spare bedroom with an ornate lamp on either end.
Connor had rarely entered the room where it once sat, and months later, their life had been reduced to one sofa, three beds and a couple of odds and ends.
We had too much. Greedy, really. Needless, all that stuff, all that expense . . .
‘Yes, that’s it.’
Mr Firth helped remove the desk from its hiding place and lift it into the back of the van.
They moved on to the boxes loaded with spare blankets, linens, towels and summer clothes.
The boys sorted through their belongings and selected a couple of books, school files and one or two frivolous items that made her smile.
‘Of course you can’t live without that, Dec!
’ They all laughed as he gripped a plastic Thor Hammer that lit up when whacked.
‘And don’t worry, Nina, there is no rush. As you can see, we have the space and can keep your things here for as long as you need,’ Mr Firth said.
She felt tempted to ask him to consign the lot to charity, but knew enough not to make a rash decision. Strangely, for the first time, she didn’t think about the place she might live next; instead, she pictured the flat and knew the last thing they needed was clutter.
‘Thank you for being so kind,’ she offered sincerely, looking at the man her husband had trusted.
‘You look well.’ He smiled.
‘Getting there,’ she replied. ‘And thank you once again.’
‘Nina.’ Mr Firth called her back into the barn as the family piled back into the van. She went to him, bracing herself for some kind of bad news he could only tell her in private. ‘You have two fine boys there,’ he said.
She smiled at him. Yes, she did.
Nina walked back to the van.
‘Okay, wagons roll! My turn!’ Tiggy called as she pulled out of Hollydown Farm. ‘He seems nice,’ she offered.
‘He is. And can I just say thank you for coming with us all this way and for being so great?’
‘My pleasure, sis. That’s what family’s for.’
They drove along the lane in silence for a minute or two.
‘Can we go and look at our old house?’ Declan asked.
Nina had half expected the request. ‘I don’t know if that’s a good idea.’ She hesitated.
‘Please, Mum!’ Declan begged.
She looked at Connor. ‘I don’t mind.’ He gave a shrug of indifference.
‘I’m more than happy to take you if you’d like,’ Tiggy said.
Nina nodded tightly. ‘Okay then.’ Maybe it would help them all find closure.
Connor sat forward in his seat, proudly issuing directions and showing off his local knowledge to his aunt. Nina felt strange, sick, as the van drew into the lane. She felt the swirl of nerves in her stomach, a feeling that had been missing of late.
As they approached, she saw the gates were closed with a heavy padlock and chain, as she had pictured. A sign nailed to the front gave the number for a security company to call in the case of emergency. Two back-to-back ‘For Sale’ signs hung from a post in the driveway.
Tiggy slowed the van and before Nina had a chance to make a plan or say anything, Connor jumped out.
‘Connor!’ she called, but he didn’t move from where he had his nose pressed up to the gate.
Then Declan made a break for it and ran up to his brother.
Reluctantly she unclipped her seat belt and climbed down.