36. The Thaw Sets In
Chapter 36
The Thaw Sets In
E ven in the hour since they’d walked down the lane to the farm, the snow had melted further. It wasn’t only the tops of the grasses peeping through the blanket of snow in the meadows; there were whole green patches where the snow had receded and the lane had turned grey with slush.
‘Do you and Harry want to walk on ahead and get the soup on? Then I can talk to Oliver as we walk.’ Matt turned to Amy.
‘No, I don’t.’ Amy took a deep breath of the fresh air. ‘I think this is something we should do together.’
He thought for a moment. ‘Yes, you’re right.’
Oliver looked up at his dad, his face pinched and drawn.
‘Is it something bad? Are you and Amy going to split up?’ Oliver asked his dad. ‘I know you’ve been weird since Granny came.’
‘At least that means no kissing,’ Harry said cheerfully, then his face fell. ‘Oh. But if you split up me and Olly won’t be going on holiday in the summer. ’
‘We want to sail a boat on the big lake, and we can’t do that if you’ve split up. You won’t, will you?’
‘No! You’re right, we haven’t spent much time together over these last few days, when we hoped we’d have the chance to be together all the time. We didn’t expect your granny to stay quite this long, and that’s made it hard because we didn’t want her to know. And you two have done great about keeping the secret.’ He reached out for Amy’s hand, and she took it.
‘We’re not going to do that any more,’ Amy said. ‘No more secrets.’
‘If we’re going to tell Granny Diane about us being a couple, then there’s something we need to tell you about first.’
Oliver looked worried. Matt walked next to him and put an arm around his shoulders.
Harry’s eyes narrowed. ‘If you’re not splitting up, then I know what this is. You’re getting married, aren’t you? Just when you think things can’t get any worse, another stupid wedding.’
‘No, it’s not that,’ Amy said, hurriedly.
‘Olly, I’m afraid there’s something you didn’t know about me and your mum. Something we never told you, because she got ill, and we never needed to. And it might upset you.’
Harry was trying to walk right next to Oliver, so Amy steered him to the other side of the path to give Olly and his dad some space. She was here if he needed her but this was his story to tell Oliver.
‘Do you remember, before your mum got ill?’ Matt asked.
‘Of course. I remember loads of things.’ Oliver kicked at a lump of slushy snow on the path and it shattered into ice-crystals.
‘Do you know a couple of times me and Mum perhaps argued every now and then?’
‘Every now and then?’ Oliver rolled his eyes. ‘Every couple of minutes more like. You never stopped arguing. Whether baked beans were healthier than sweetcorn, what temperature the heating should be, who put the remote control in the kitchen drawer –’
‘That’ll do! We weren’t that bad, were we?’ Matt asked.
‘Worse.’ Oliver stamped through the ice of a puddle in the middle of the track with a crunch.
‘Unfortunately, that was because things weren’t great between your mum and me.’
‘Tell me about it.’ Oliver looked at Harry. ‘The only thing that stopped them getting divorced like your mum and dad was when she got ill, and they had to stop fighting.’
There was a long moment of silence. For once, even Harry didn’t have anything to say, so he turned his attention to sliding on the compacted grey snow.
‘You knew. All this time, you knew …’ Matt said, his words accompanied by the rhythmic sound of Harry’s sliding feet. ‘We tried so hard that you wouldn’t find out.’
‘I’m not a baby. You can’t keep secrets like that when we all lived in the same house all the time. I heard a lot of stuff, you know.’
‘Olly, I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to know things weren’t going so well. I’m sure your mum didn’t either.’
‘Mum was the one who told me.’
‘What?’ Matt halted mid-stride.
Oliver stopped too and squinted up at his dad in the low sunlight. ‘Mum told me. Before she got ill, she said to me what would I think if you and her weren’t always going to be together. Did I think I’d be okay with it. Perhaps I would have to live some of the time with her and some with you. Like Harry does with his dad.’
‘What did you say to her?’
Oliver shrugged off his father’s arm and started walking up the track again. ‘I said I guess so – at least it might stop her yelling all the time. As long as I still got to see both of you. She said it wouldn’t change anything about you and me, that you’d still love me as much, and so would she.’
‘I …’ Matt caught up with his son and fell into step beside him and Amy and Harry walked a few steps behind. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you knew?’
‘I guessed she’d have told you she didn’t want to be married to you, so I thought you knew I knew.’
‘And if he had done, he’d know you knew he knew.’ Harry bounced in between Matt and his son. ‘And if I knew he knew, then I’d know he knew you knew he knew. And if –’
‘That’ll do, Harry.’ Amy caught his hand so he had to walk beside her again.
‘Oh. Okay.’ He walked down the side of the lane, where the softening mud underneath the snow leaked into every footprint he made.
Oliver continued, as if his friend had never interrupted. ‘Then mum got sick right after, and then you kind of got back together again.’ It was all very matter of fact. Oliver didn’t sound unhappy or stressed by the conversation. It wasn’t the dramatic emotional showdown Amy had feared.
‘Did you talk to anyone else about me and your mum?’ Matt asked.
‘Harry and Darcey-Mae. Harry’s like an expert on parents getting divorced. He said it wasn’t all bad ‘cos you get two Christmas presents and two summer holidays and trainers. He says if you tell your dad your mam won’t let you have something, like a video game or a graphic novel, then you tell your dad and he’ll get one for you so– What? What did you kick me for, Harry?’
‘I did not say that! Well, not exactly .’ Harry denied it, but his expression was anything but innocent. ‘Look, there’s a bird over there, do you think it’s an eagle?’ He pointed at what appeared to be a rook or a crow and grinned beatifically, in the obvious hope of distracting his mother. She’d seen it all before.
‘No, Harry, it’s not. We’ll talk about the graphic novels and the video games later.’
They passed under one of the old, bent trees of the orchard which overhung the lane. The boughs were hung with tiny, sparkling water drops, which caught the afternoon sunlight. Yesterday at this time they’d been heavy with snow. Harry jumped up to knock one of the low-hanging branches. Water drops cascaded down on them and left tiny round, dark holes in the snow where they fell. Harry laughed, but Matt and Amy were listening to Oliver.
‘Darcey-Mae was going through like totally the same thing. Her dad saw her mam kiss a man in Sainsbury’s car park and they argued the whole time.’
‘I said that’s exactly what you and dad had been like,’ Harry said, ‘and then you got divorced, even though you never kissed anyone in Sainsbury’s carpark which would’ve been gross. And Darcey-Mae said her mam and dad got divorced because of the Sainsbury’s thing. She forgot to buy custard creams because of the stuff that went down in the car park, that’s what Darcey-Mae said, and she wasn’t sure if her dad was more cross about the kissing or the biscuits. He must really like custard creams, because I think they’re a bit rubbish, when you could have chocolate biscuits instead, and –’
‘I think we’ve got away from the subject here,’ said Amy.
They’d reached the gate into the tiny garden of the cottage, the smooth blanket of snow now rather lumpy and bumpy as the flowerbeds and plants in them began to emerge. The old wooden gate had swollen with the melting snow, and Matt had to wrestle to get it to open.
‘Olly, we wanted you to know this, because some people will think it’s very soon for your dad to be going out with someone else, and that might mean he isn’t ready. But that isn’t true,’ Amy continued as Matt shoved harder at the gate and it opened.
‘Darcey-Mae’s stupid mother would say that,’ Harry said.
‘We’re not worrying about Darcey-Mae’s mum today, though.’ Matt held the gate open for them all to come through, and then shut it behind them, but without latching it so it wouldn’t be so hard to open next time. ‘It’s more what Granny Diane might think, because she didn’t know about mum and me. She didn’t know we were having any problems, and it could be a big shock to her. But we’ve got to tell her about me and Amy, and if she works out things weren’t right between me and your mum we didn’t want you to find out accidentally,’ Matt said.
‘I get it,’ Oliver said. ‘But doesn’t she know about you and Amy yet? She’s been here long enough.’
‘No, she doesn’t, we haven’t told her, but we’re going to - very soon. But it’s important to us – to both of us – you two boys know the whole truth. Amy and me aren’t just friends any more – we’re more than that. Amy’s very special to me, and I hope we’re going to be together for a long time. A very long time.’ He looked at her and smiled.
‘We’re in love with each other. That means we’re not going to hide in corners any more and pretend nothing’s going on.’
Then they kissed.
‘Yuk!’ shouted Harry.
‘Please don’t do that again!’ Oliver shuddered.
‘Not when we can see it,’ Harry said with a tone of utter disdain. ‘Grown ups are so gross!’
‘Just hurry up and open the front door, will you, then we don’t have to watch,’ Oliver added.
‘One more thing. I’m going to change my job. I’ve stopped working for the breakdown people and I’m going to have to hunt for a new job when we get home. It might mean some big changes.’
‘Does it mean you won’t be doing shifts and I won’t have to sleep at the grannies’ houses any more?’ Oliver said.
‘I hope so.’
‘Awesome. Come on Harry, let’s go in and let them smooch out here.’ They pushed past the grown-ups and into the house.
Matt stood in the porch and opened the door which made the last of the snow slip off the slate roof with a rattle and a soft thump. Amy, standing outside the shelter of the porch, was covered in soggy, melting snow. There was a crown of slush on the top of her woolly hat and her coat was soaked. Matt looked at her and tried very, very hard not to smile, but he couldn’t help it. His face, which had been serious for the best part of this whole week, crinkled into laughter. It was as if the melting snow had released an avalanche of relief .
‘I’m soaked through,’ she said, ‘And all you can do is laugh at me!’
‘It’s like someone threw a bucket of water over you. I’m sorry, it’s not funny.’
But it was, and soon they were both laughing, not only at the snowfall, but at the relief.
‘Come here. I’m going to do something I should’ve done when we first got here,’ said Matt.
‘What? No!’ She giggled as he swept her up in his arms and carried her in through the doorway like a bride.
‘Even if we have only got one more day – and one more night – here, we’re going to spend it together. No more lying, no more pretence. I love you, Amy Harris, and I don’t care who knows it.’
The boys thundered up the stairs to their bedroom, and the living room was still and quiet. The clock in the hall ticked, outside the windows the water dripped from the eaves and the fire rustled in the grate where it had almost died away to nothing.
‘I love you too. Are you sure you’re not hurting your back, carrying me like this?’
‘I’m not going to hurt my back. Let’s try something else, here, not like that, like this …’ He helped her wrap her legs around him and supported her weight with a little help from the dining room wall behind her. They kissed for a long while, as if they were newly reunited after years apart, not just a few days with Diane in attendance. Every sensation of him doubled and trebled. The sharp tickle of his stubble against her cheek, her ear, her neck … The scent of his aftershave. The almost inaudible groan from his throat and her own murmurs. This was what she had been waiting for. Her lips parted, she tilted her head back and she exhaled a long, shud dering breath.
‘I wish I could carry you upstairs right now,’ Matt whispered, ‘and show you what –’
She never found out what he wanted to show her, though she had a pretty good idea of what it might have been.
At that moment the cottage door swung open, and Diane stood silhouetted in the doorframe.