Chapter 4
THE NEXT AFTERNOON, Helena dipped her toe into the turquoise paddling pool and shrieked. ‘There is no way I’m getting in!’
‘But it’s so fun! Come on!’ Raffy clearly couldn’t understand how hose-pipe temperature water could be unappealing. To him there was nothing better. ‘Don’t be so boring!’
Helena took a deep breath and took the plunge, immersing her foot in the ice-cold water.
The country was in the grip of a stiflingly hot heatwave, but it didn’t matter how hot it was outside, Helena had never been a fan of getting cold and wet.
She always had boiling hot baths and was rarely persuaded to get in the sea. ‘It’s freezing!’ she squealed.
Raffy was looking mischievous. He crouched down, poised with his fingertips reaching into the water. Before she could change her mind and jump back out, he had bombarded her with splashes.
‘Raffy! Stop! How could you?!! I’ll get you, you little rascal!
’ She struck a counterattack, soaking Raffy until his curls were flattened on the top of his head like one of Margery’s dogs after a dip in the village pond.
Water streamed down both their faces as they wiped their eyes and collapsed into giggles.
When Raffy had cooled down, after a long and stuffy day at school, they dried off and went inside to find him some dinner.
‘Fish fingers okay?’ Helena asked.
‘With smileys and ketchup?’
‘That I can do! And we better get your Father’s Day card done before your dad gets home, too.’
‘We already made one at school,’ Raffy said. As he spoke his eyes shifted downwards and a sullen look fell over his cherubic features.
Helena didn’t miss a trick. ‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Nothing.’
‘Come on, I can see something’s up…’
‘It’s nothing,’ he repeated.
‘Well can you get it out of your bag? We can hide it somewhere until Sunday so it’s a surprise.’
Raffy nodded and rummaged about in his school bag for the card.
The landline rang its familiar trill. She flung the tray into the oven and raced over to pick up the phone.
‘It’s me,’ Noah’s voice echoed down the line. She hoped he wasn’t still annoyed about his shirts. He had not reacted well to her confession the night before.
‘Hi babe, all okay?’
‘Not really.’
‘Oh no. How come?’
He sighed. ‘Nothing I want to talk about…’
‘Will you be back in time for dinner?’
‘Should be, probably not for bedtime. What have you made?’
‘Slow-roasted lamb shoulder and roasted vegetables.’
‘Nice.’ She could hear his approval and was pleased she had chosen to make it, time consuming though it may be.
Noah did not approve of carbs, only Raffy was allowed them, not wanting to risk losing his zero per cent body fat, which made meal planning that bit more challenging.
He sounded quite down, but she knew it was no good trying to lift him out of a mood when it arose.
It was better to leave him until it blew over.
‘Do you want to speak to Raf? He’s right here.’
‘Pass him over.’ She handed him the phone and listened to them chat about Raffy’s day at school.
‘Bye Dad,’ Raffy said as he hung up. ‘See you in the morning.’ He turned to Helena, a grin on his face. ‘Dad said we can go on a bike ride tomorrow, just the two of us.’
Helena tried not to feel left out, she knew it was important for them to have quality time together as father and son. ‘How lovely! If you go early perhaps it’ll be a bit cooler…’
He punched the air. ‘I can’t wait!’ He beamed his gap-toothed smile.
‘Let’s have a look at this masterpiece then,’ Helena said, walking over to the table and picking up the folded piece of card. He had written:
Dear Dad, these are the reasons I love you.
There were three blank lines for Raffy to draw pictures and write his own words.
The first image was a picture of two stick figures entwined, accompanied by the words ‘You give me hugs.’ The second was a picture of a book, and the words ‘Reading me stories.’ The third was a bike with the words ‘Bike rides.’
As Raffy explained the card to Helena she could sense that sadness lingering over him again. ‘He is going to love it,’ she said. ‘I promise. It’s such a wonderful card.’
Raffy smiled up at her and her heart wrenched at the emotion in his eyes.
‘What is it darling?’ she said softly, crouching down beside him.
Raffy paused, staring at the floor for a moment or two. ‘Stuart said that I don’t have a mummy so I can’t have as much love as other children.’
Helena felt her stomach lurch for Raffy. ‘Oh darling,’ she said, pulling him into her arms and squeezing him tightly. ‘What a silly thing for Stuart to say.’
‘But it’s true, isn’t it?’
‘No, it’s not.’ Helena sat on the chair and pulled him onto her lap.
‘The thing is, you had a wonderful mummy, the very best, in fact. And she loved you more than any child has ever been loved. The best thing is that she still does, always and forever, and she watches you every day from heaven and her heart bursts with pride at the incredible little boy you have become. And then on top of that, you have all my love too. I love you so much, and I will always love you. You see, you actually have more love than most children, not less.’
Raffy seemed reassured by this, the look of concern faded away and his eyes shone happily again. ‘I love you too,’ he whispered.
Helena’s eyes filled with tears. ‘To infinity and beyond,’ she replied with his usual response, making him laugh.
She wiped a tear that had spilled onto her cheek with the back of her hand and pulled herself together.
‘Right, let’s turn these over and get the peas on, and then we’ll go and find a hiding place for your lovely card. ’
‘Okay,’ Raffy nodded.
She decided not to tell Noah about their little chat.
If he was feeling low, hearing that would only make him feel worse.
She knew he worried about Raffy. He was sure there must be some side-effects to that early loss.
Even if he didn’t remember Kate, he would at some deeper level be missing her presence.
It was impossible for her death to have had no impact on him at all.
Her heart broke for the tragedy of such a small child losing his mother, and for Noah losing his wife like that.
What a horrific thing to have happened to any young family.
It was an odd thought that if the accident hadn’t happened, she wouldn’t be living the life she was.
She would have met Noah once and never seen him again. She wouldn’t have known Raffy at all.
*
Helena stepped out into the garden to bring the washing in from the line.
It was a perfectly still evening, the heady scent of roses filling the air.
The only sign of movement was a swift hopping its way from branch to branch, searching for its next meal.
The sky above her was laden with swathes of tangerine clouds, draped low like plumes of smoke. She breathed in the beauty and smiled.
It was around eight o’clock when the sound of tyres crunching on gravel signalled Noah’s arrival back home.
Helena had been cleaning up Raffy’s tea and tidying away the clutter of the day after putting him down for the night.
She had read him one of his favourite stories and tucked him in, happy that he felt better after their chat earlier.
She checked the food in the oven one more time.
It should all be ready for half past eight, Noah’s preferred time to eat.
He walked into the kitchen, slinging his keys onto a small side table. He came over to kiss her, sliding his jacket off and hanging it on the back of one of the chairs.
‘G he didn’t seem too bad, she was relieved to see.
If he came back in a state she could tell instantly.
She had learned to predict what kind of mood he was in from the speed of his brakes, the tread of his footfall from the car to the house, the way he shut the front door.
He didn’t handle stress well and often complained about how much he hated his job as a commodity broker in the City, frequently threatening to quit and do something completely different.
He talked longingly about his life in New Zealand, the lack of stress, the laidback culture, the amazing quality of life.
He even talked about moving back there. He often said that he wanted to start over, do something completely different.
She would have supported him in that one hundred per cent but since she had stopped earning, she knew they were all dependent on his salary.
When she had suggested going back to work herself, he had dismissed the idea.
After all, it had been his idea for her to stop in the first place, to be a consistent presence at home for Raffy.
Part of her wished he would go ahead and quit, to find something that he enjoyed, for as far as she was concerned life was too short to spend your precious time doing anything that you didn’t feel passionate about.
Her mother’s zest for life had taught her that.
As had her father dying so young. She had loved her job in events.
She missed it. Being the one at home could be hard work at times, repetitive, exhausting even, but she reminded herself that Raffy was worth it.
‘So a bit of a shit day?’ she asked as she gave him his drink.
‘Yeah,’ Noah took a big sip and let out a sigh. He leant his head back and closed his eyes.
He clearly didn’t want to discuss it.
‘Well at least it’s the weekend,’ she smiled, trying to be positive. ‘Two days off with just me and Raf.’
‘Thank god,’ Noah lifted his head but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. As always her heart lurched at his smile. His eyes were shadowed with tiredness, his crisp, white collar mirrored the neat geometry of his jaw line.
‘Raffy said you’re going to take him on a bike ride in the morning?’
‘I’ve missed him this week. I feel like I never get to see him…’
‘Well it’ll be good quality time. And it’s Father’s Day on Sunday. Do you want to do anything in particular for it?’
‘Go to the pub?’ Noah suggested.
‘Perfect.’
Noah had downed his gin already, so Helena set about making him a refill – slimline tonic of course.
She felt guilty that he worked so hard, supporting them all.
She knew there was a strange logic to the fact that she was the one staying home with Raffy; it would have made more sense if she worked so that Noah could spend more time with his son.
But Noah was old-fashioned in many respects.
She knew it was important for him to be the provider.
She also suspected he might get bored being a stay-at-home parent.
But then again, who wouldn’t? She often found herself twiddling her thumbs.
It was ironic that the one passion she had that would fill her time perfectly, baking, was banned in the house.
Noah said it was too calorific. Her mouth watered as she thought of all the recipes she had perfected over the years before she had met Noah: her succulent Guinness brownies, her carrot cake with crunchy chai candied seeds, her spiced red velvet cake…
She often lost herself in daydreams about baking.
It had always been her greatest stress relief, especially kneading bread dough.
She missed everything about it – the crack of eggs, the drop of the batter into the cake tin, the peacefulness of folding in.
She would find herself fantasising about brushing egg onto pastry as she brushed a soy glaze onto a salmon fillet.
Her mum had taught her to bake, and the memories of making fairy cakes, cookies and iced biscuits were some of the most treasured moments of her childhood.
She wished she could do the same with Raffy, but, apart from the occasional ice cream on a hot day, Noah wouldn’t allow him to eat sugar or anything sweet.
She longed to wake up to the smell of freshly baked bread once again, but Noah wouldn’t allow bread in the house either, he found it too tempting.
He seemed much more relaxed after they had shared a bottle of wine over dinner, which he had showered with praise, something that was not always the case – he was very particular.
‘Come here,’ he said, patting the sofa next to him as she let the dishwater drain from the sink. She thought how much she would love just one night off from doing the washing-up.
Despite that, a thrill of excitement coursed through her as she noticed the look in his eyes. It may have been four years but she still found his power over her completely overwhelming. He had a hypnotic pull. One look and she felt herself thrumming with anticipation at what might be coming next.
He took the wine glass from her hand and placed it on the table in front of him.
Slowly, he unbuttoned her white shirt. He pulled the hair tie from her ponytail, allowing her hair to fall over her shoulders.
He brushed his thumb over her lips, knowing the effect he had on her.
Her heart raced as he leant forward and kissed her.
He tasted of wine. She could smell the traces of musky aftershave on his skin.
His stubble grazed her as he kissed her again, pulling her up to her feet and taking her up to their bedroom.