The Astonishing Return of Norah Wells by Virginia Macgregor

Dad once.
What would be so bad about me sleeping with Sai?
    This had been at one of Fay’s family meetings.
    Why can’t Ella sleep with Sai?
Willa had asked. At which point Fay had taken her out of the room.
    Now Ella understood why Dad was scared. He was scared that she’d end up pregnant and that she and Sai would have to get married and that they’d end up like him and Mum: kids with kids. Sure, Mum and Dad had been a few years older when they’d had her, but they weren’t ready, were they? Isn’t that what Dad had implied earlier today? That he couldn’t cope. And Mum couldn’t cope with him not being able to cope. That that’s why she’d left.
    Sai kisses her neck and whispers:
    â€˜And another cool thing about your hair?’ he says. ‘It’ll help you run faster on Monday. More aerodynamic.’
    Ella takes a cushion and throws it against him.
    He coughs and pushes it out of the way. ‘But mainly it’s that you’re beautiful…’
    â€˜Good.’
    Sai takes Ella’s hand and they lie back and listen to each other’s breathing.
    â€˜Maybe if you think of a happy time,’ Sai says.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜It’ll help you remember why you loved her – and why you wanted her home.’
    â€˜I don’t want to remember.’
    â€˜Just try it.’
    â€˜It won’t work.’
    â€˜You trust me, right?’
    She gives him a small nod.
    â€˜Close your eyes.’ His fingers flutter over her face. She drops her eyelids. ‘Good.’
    â€˜Was that your way of checking they were closed?’
    â€˜Kind of.’
    Ella laughs.
    â€˜So, think about a moment, a single moment when you knew that you loved your Mum more than anyone or anything else in the world.’
    â€˜Sai —’
    â€˜Go with it.’
    Sai was into this stuff. Guided meditations. Visualisations. It was an Indian thing, he said. Ella screws shut her eyes until darkness sweeps through her whole body.
    â€˜Thought of a time?’
    A light flashes behind her eyelids.
    â€˜Sports day. A year and half before she left.’
    â€˜You were, what —?’
    â€˜Six.’
    â€˜And it was Holdingwell Primary Sports Day?’
    â€˜Yep.’
    Before Sai needs to say anything else, it comes back to her in a big whoosh. Like she’s actually there.
    â€˜Tell me,’ Sai says.
    Ella keeps her eyes closed. She sees a big green space marked out into lanes.
    â€˜You remember sports day? At Holdingwell Primary?’
    â€˜God, yeah. Torture.’
    â€˜Not for me. I was good at that stuff.’ Ella pauses. ‘And so was Mum. She did the mothers and daughters’ race every year. We practised for ages. Ran around Holdingwell in the rain. Me, Mum and Louis.’
    â€˜Was your Dad there?’
    â€˜He usually forgot. Most of the time, it was just the two of us.’ Ella realises that by ‘just the two of us’ she means more than Dad not being there: Willa wasn’t born yet. She had Mum to herself. She’s never thought that maybe things would have turned out differently if Willa hadn’t come along. That the time she was really happy was when it was just her and Mum and Louis. It didn’t matter, then, that Dad was rubbish at being a dad. They had each other. And that felt like enough. More than enough: it felt like the best thing in the world.
    â€˜What are you seeing?’ Sai asks.
    Ella lets her mind float back.
    â€˜We’re at the start line. Mum’s kneeling in front of me doing up my laces.’
    â€˜What else do you see?’
    Ella screws her eyes tighter shut.
    Dad’s standing on the slope that leads up to the main school buildings, a camera round his neck. Fay’s beside him, holding Mum and Ella’s water bottles. She was always right there, wasn’t she? Holding them together, and they didn’t even see it.
    â€˜Is your mum saying