Chapter 52
Mum drops Leo and me back home in the morning. The sun is bright and clear after yesterday’s rain. Church bells are ringing in the distance and there’s the usual weekend roar from the sports ground a few streets away. It is a new day. We pull up in the drive to find the unexpected sight of Brendan sitting on the step, his head in his hands. When he looks up, despite the Superdry T-shirt and On Cloud trainers, his face is creased, his eyes craggy. He looks old.
On spotting him, my mother releases a grunt of derision. Then she remembers that Leo is in the back seat and focuses instead on parking. She pulls on the handbrake and I kiss her on the cheek.
‘Thank you, Mum. For everything.’
She pats me on the hand. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?’
‘We’ll take it from here.’
She nods. ‘I’ll ask your father to drop Jacob off after his golf lesson.’
I nod and step outside. Leo follows, muttering a ‘Thanks Grandma,’ that’s too muffled from remorse to come out fully formed. She still gets out to give him a hug, which only seems to exacerbate his shame.
Brendan stands up and, as Mum drives off, he immediately starts on Leo, having presumably decided that he needs to make up for his absence last night, and indeed the last eight years.
‘What happened? What have you got to say for yourself? Do you have any idea what you’ve put your mother through?’
‘Not now, Brendan,’ I say quietly, as I put my key in the door. ‘We’ll talk to Leo later.’
Our son shuffles inside, his head hanging so low that if he could make it disappear beneath his shoulder blades I suspect he would.
‘Go on up and get a shower, love. Then I think you should get yourself into bed.’
He plods up the stairs as I turn to Brendan.
‘Come in. I’ll put the kettle on. Sorry you had to wait a while. We weren’t sure exactly what time they were going to let us out.’
‘What happened, Lisa?’
I make some tea while I fill him in on as much of the detail as I can muster the energy for. He listens silently, his expression becoming more and more pained. When I finish, there is a short, numb silence as we both gaze at our mugs.
Then he says: ‘No wonder you sounded so irate in your message.’
‘I was stressed. And I was angry you weren’t there to deal with it, like I was. Quite honestly, I still would be if I wasn’t so shattered.’
He begins to chew his lip.
‘Listen, Brendan—’
‘Don’t say anything , Lisa,’ he says emphatically. ‘Not a single thing. I agree with everything. Wholeheartedly.’
‘I was just going to let you know your flies are open,’ I tell him.
‘Oh.’ He looks down. Fiddles with his trousers. Turns away when they’re not immediately fixed, then back again.
‘Last night gave me a lot to think about. This is hard to admit, but I know I haven’t been very . . . present , I think is the word. As a father, I mean.’
‘No. You haven’t,’ I agree. I take a sip of my tea and take a moment to work out what I want to say about this. ‘And sometimes I think that’s fine . When you first left, I constantly told myself that I’m perfectly capable of raising these kids by myself, so why would I need you?’
He lowers his eyes.
‘But all I could think of last night was not, oh, how will I cope without Brendan . But that our child had done something stupid. He’d got himself in trouble. And that, despite all that, he deserved to have his father there to help get him out of this mess. Not just me and my new friend .’
He freezes and registers these two words.
‘Look, Brendan, I don’t doubt that you love those kids. I know you do. But fatherhood doesn’t start and finish with five hours every other weekend. Being a parent is about more than McDonald’s Happy Meals and the odd pet hamster.’
‘I know.’ He looks up. ‘But can I outline my defence?’
‘Go on.’
‘I am acutely aware of how surplus to requirements I am around here, Lisa. Believe me, I am. But that’s partly it. When the boys come to stay with me, all they want is to be back home with you. They tolerate me. They want to be with you.’
‘It’s nothing personal,’ I insist. ‘They just want their PlayStations. And their friends.’
‘You’re wrong,’ he says, more firmly than I’d been expecting. ‘I’m sorry, but you are. I know you get all the hassle from Leo, but you also get the love. He adores you, Lisa.’
‘I don’t think so,’ I scoff.
‘No, it’s true,’ he says emphatically. ‘You should hear how he describes you to Melanie. He goes on about how his mum has this amazing TV career, lots of friends and goes running and does DIY in her spare time. She gets a little . . . paranoid about it.’
‘Right.’
‘Look, I’m digressing. This is not about Melanie, it’s about me. And the point I’m making is that it’s hard to have to force two kids to spend time with you when they’d rather be with their mum. You’ve made this their home. My place is not somewhere they want to be.’
‘Maybe you need to do something to make it feel more like home or just spend more time over here supporting them – and yes, I’ll say it, supporting me . It’s not fair that my mother has to pick up all the slack. She doesn’t mind, but it’s not her job, Brendan. It’s yours and mine.’
I don’t spell it out that she might hate him a bit less if he did pick up the reins a little more. That’s might .
He nods, takes a deep breath, then says: ‘All right. This is what’s going to happen. Things are going to change around here. You have my word.’
Brendan’s word has not always been worth much, but for once he looks as if he really means it. And what option do I have but to give him the benefit of the doubt?
‘Those kids do mean the world to me, you know.’ I register a slight quiver in his bottom lip. ‘I’d do anything for them.’
‘Good.’
He takes on a thoughtful, determined expression. ‘Do you think . . . Lisa, this is a big question I know. But . . . do you think we should try again? As a couple, I mean.’
I nearly spit out my tea. ‘Good God, no.’
He pulls back, clearly affronted.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Brendan,’ I add.
‘All right, steady on ,’ he huffs.
But after a moment, his piqued expression makes way for a smile.
‘I didn’t mean any offence, but I think we’re past all that, don’t you?’ I add.
He shrugs. ‘Yes, I suppose we are.’
‘And don’t pretend you’re not relieved.’
He chortles and sips his tea. ‘I could potentially look at moving back to this end of Manchester though,’ he suggests. ‘Not necessarily Roebury itself, but somewhere closer.’
God, that would make life so much easier.
‘How would Melanie feel about that?’ I feel obliged to say.
‘I’ll talk to her,’ he says. ‘And in the meantime, whatever happens, I promise things are going to change. I’m going to arrange something special for them next weekend.’
‘Excellent.’
‘Peppa Pig World is meant to be good.’
I freeze and look up.
‘Gotcha!’
‘That’s very funny, Brendan.’
‘Thanks. I’ll get my coat, shall I?’