Chapter 39

39

BOXING DAY

He did it because the snow’s gone, he says. That’s why Theo snuck into the kitchen and found scissors in a drawer and cut down Michael’s beaded curtain. ‘I don’t understand,’ Pearl exclaims, gathering up the red, gold and orange beads. They are everywhere: under the table and fridge. Some have even landed in Stan’s basket.

‘I was bored,’ Theo states, hands plonked on hips, ‘’cause there’s no snow any more.’

‘Well, there’s still some ,’ Lena points out.

‘You didn’t mean to do any harm, did you, sweetheart?’ Frida asks.

‘No.’ He pouts, looking down at his slippered feet.

‘What d’you mean by that?’ Shelley rounds on her. I didn’t mean it! That was something Joel said earlier. Or was it, It didn’t mean anything?

‘I mean it’s just the kind of thing children do,’ Frida clarifies.

‘It’s not, though, is it?’ Shelley glares at her. ‘This is Michael’s place and we’re supposed to be looking after it for him. And that curtain came all the way from India ?—’

‘Don’t shout at my mummy!’ Theo wails.

‘I’m not shouting!’ Shelley shouts as, horrified, Theo turns and clatters out of the house.

‘Oh my God.’ Shelley places her hands over her face. ‘I am so sorry, Frida. I don’t know what I’m saying?—’

‘Shell, it’s okay,’ Lena murmurs, squeezing her arm. Niall and Roger appear briefly, having taken it upon themselves to clear out the fireplace and make everything shipshape in the lounge.

‘Oh,’ Roger says with a grimace.

‘Everything all right here?’ Niall asks.

‘Not really, no,’ Frida announces, stomping to the front door and stepping out. ‘Theo, you shouldn’t be outside in your slippers!’ However, she makes no move to go after him, adjourning instead to the family room as she needs to pack. Everyone is leaving today: Niall, the Sampsons. Shelley, Pearl and Lena too. Only Pearl can be reasonably confident that her life will be pretty much as she left it when she returns home. Shelley and Lena are dreading it. If it were possible, they would stay here forever. Shore Cottage would be a perfect place to hide from life.

However, they can’t do that. Because things have to be sorted out. This realisation has turned Shelley’s heart into a cold, hard stone as, in their room now, she starts to pack. Lena is gathering together her things too, and keeps asking Shelley if she’s all right, if she wants to go for a walk or should they leave right away? Would that be better? Shelley doesn’t know what would be better. She can hardly think as she glances out at the clear blue sky and the smudge of purplish mountains beyond.

‘Shell, I promise you I’ll never see her again,’ Joel said when she called earlier, her hand shaking as she gripped her phone. ‘I’ve been so stupid. I was just flattered, I suppose. Flattered that someone like that would be interested?—’

‘Someone like that ?’ she shot back. ‘You mean someone beautiful and successful – a glamorous photographer – and not a clapped-out middle-aged receptionist in a care home?—’

‘You’re not clapped out. God, Shell, of course I don’t think that! I think you’re amazing, with all you do for everyone else. For us, I mean. For me and the kids. You never think of yourself and I love you, darling. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.’ Joel swore that Martha and Fin know nothing about this other woman, but surely they’ve picked up that something’s going on?

When they touched on the kids she couldn’t talk to him any more, so she finished the call abruptly. And now Pearl and Lena are sitting with her in the calm of their bedroom, away from the guests. They bring her tea and gently pick over what’s happened. Then Shelley doesn’t want to talk about Joel any more because she needs to go home and get on with the business of dismantling her marriage. New flights have been booked, leaving from Glasgow this afternoon. Shelley clicks into practical mode, gathering up the last of her things. It’s easier than trying to figure out how Martha and Fin will react when they find out what’s happened. Anything will be easier than that.

Ever the organised one, Pearl’s case is already packed neatly, ready to go. Her special hair-drying towel and vast collection of skincare and make-up products have barely been used, bar the first day or so. It was silly to bring them, she decides as she steps outside into the bright winter sunshine and she and Niall wander towards the end of the garden to check on the hens. ‘Oh,’ he says suddenly. ‘Why’s that hen out?’

They stop and look around wildly. ‘The hen run’s open!’ she announces, and they run towards it, aware of Theo watching gravely as they try to round them all up. ‘Did you let them out, Theo?’ Pearl asks as they coax the last hen – the speckled black and white one – back into the run.

‘Yes,’ he announces.

‘But why?’ Niall asks incredulously.

‘Because…’ His bottom lip crumples and tears spring from his pale blue eyes.

‘Oh, Theo,’ Pearl cries. ‘No need to be upset?—’

‘Shelley shouted at Mummy,’ he whimpers, rubbing at an eye with a fist. ‘I don’t like Shelley.’

‘Look, darling.’ Pearl crouches down and takes his hand. ‘She wasn’t really cross at you. Well, she was , but she only reacted like that because…’ She tails off and looks up at Niall. ‘She was upset about… other things.’

Theo is staring at her, eyes as round and glossy as marbles as she straightens up. Niall exhales and locks the hen run, and Theo slips his small, cold hand into hers as the three turn back towards the cottage. ‘Oh, your slippers,’ Pearl murmurs, looking down at them.

‘They’re wet,’ Theo observes.

‘Yes, darling. But they’ll dry out.’

He seems reassured by this. Then: ‘I missed the Christmas party.’

‘I know, honey. It’s such a shame. But there’ll be other parties.’

‘I had a costume,’ he adds.

‘Yes, I know. But you can wear it next Christmas?—’

‘But what if I don’t want to be a pudding then?’ he exclaims, and Pearl catches Niall trying to trap in a smile.

‘Then you can come up with another brilliant idea!’ she announces. ‘I’m sure Daddy will be able to make whatever?—’

‘Are you a mummy?’ he cuts in suddenly.

She smiles at that. ‘Yes, I am. I have a son called Brandon.’

‘How old is he?’

‘He’s twenty-one,’ she replies. ‘So all grown up.’ Earlier today she called him to dispatch the weather report. He sounded relieved that she was coming home. ‘How’s Abi?’ she asked, as she has each time she’s called. Brandon muttered something unintelligible, seeming keen to finish the call, and with a niggle of unease, Pearl managed not to quiz him. Better to catch up face to face.

‘Brandon’s a nice name,’ Theo says now.

‘Thank you.’ She squeezes his hand gently. ‘I think it is too.’

Pearl senses him looking up at her, frowning. ‘Where’s Brandon’s daddy?’

Something catches in her throat as they stop. ‘Brandon’s daddy isn’t here any more,’ she replies. As they walk on through the melting snow, stepping around the puddles of slush, Niall puts an arm around her shoulders. She looks up at him and musters a smile.

It’s okay, his expression seems to tell her. Everything’s going to be okay.

Theo is still gazing up at her. ‘Did Brandon’s daddy die?’

A cool gust catches her throat and, for a moment, Pearl can hardly breathe. ‘Yes, Theo. He died.’

Then they walk on, and she worries now that she might have upset him. Will he be scared now that his own dad might die? Or his mum?

‘Is he in heaven?’ Theo asks.

Brandon asked this once, because at ten years old he still struggled with the concept that it might not exist. And Pearl gave him the answer that felt right. I’m not sure, darling. But he’s still here with us, even though we can’t see him.

‘But where is he?’ Brandon wanted to know.

The answer Pearl gave then is what she truly believed. And that’s why she tells Theo, ‘I actually believe that Brandon’s daddy is still all around us, darling. I think he’s in the stars.’

They are ready to leave now but Shelley is striding down the lane, away from Shore Cottage. She has taken herself off, not because she doesn’t love her friends. But actually, they have talked it all out, and in the aftermath of the terrible conversation with Joel this morning, Shelley needs to be alone.

There is some snow left, but it’s thawing rapidly. She stomps along, still trying to make sense of everything Joel told her. That he hates what he’s done to her and his family. That he’ll do anything to make things right.

What he didn’t do was blame her in any way. ‘This is 100 per cent down to me,’ he told her tearfully. Shelley has never known Joel to cry about anything before. ‘Please,’ he begged her. ‘Just get yourself home as soon as you can and we’ll figure this out.’

Can they do that? It might be possible, Shelley thinks, as he swears he’s told her everything. Not just about this photographer in Finsbury Park, but Martha and Fin’s house party – ‘That was my fault, not theirs, I should’ve known ’ – and the broken window and stolen laptop and the fact that her grandma’s baubles were smashed. They could have some couples counselling and things might change for the better. Hasn’t she read that an affair can actually help the relationship? That it can shine a spotlight on the problems that caused it and what’s really important?

Shelley marches on, past Harry and Pam’s farm. With the snow nearly gone it seems so much closer to Shore Cottage than it had on Christmas Eve. A cool wind gusts into her face now, and her ponytail has come loose in the wind. ‘Give me a chance,’ Joel implored her, ‘for the kids as much as anything else. For our family .’

Now she sees a car in the far distance, heading towards her along the winding unmade road. She keeps walking, sploshing through puddles of melting snow as it comes closer. There is barely any traffic around here. Just the occasional farm vehicle or tourists getting lost, hoping that the satnav will spring to life. But the car has nearly reached her now, and Shelley steps back onto the verge to let it pass.

It doesn’t pass her. Instead it stops, and the driver lowers his window, and despite everything, Shelley senses her heart lifting, and she smiles.

Michael is home.