from me to Chris and back to Matilda.
‘Did you tell her to do that?’ asked Chris.
‘No. I told her I was mad at her for upsetting Tilda. That was all.’
‘Then how did she know Tilda likes puppets?’
‘I probably mentioned it at some point, I don’t know.’
‘I haven’t got to send it back, have I?’ asked Matilda, a frown creasing her brow.
‘No, love,’ I said. ‘Of course you haven’t. It was a present. We’ll write a thank-you note for it later.’
‘But how will we give it to her?’ asked Matilda.
I looked at Chris. He looked away.
‘We’ll sort it out. Don’t worry,’ I said.
Matilda gazed again at her puppet and started dancing it around the kitchen.
‘Come on,’ I said, knowing Chris’s pressure valve would be close to bursting. ‘Let’s put it away for now. You don’t want it getting spoilt over breakfast.’
* * *
The flowers came when the others were all out. It was probably just as well. I didn’t think Chris could take much more. They were yellow and orange gerberas. I wondered if she’d asked Josh about my favourite colours, or whether it was just a lucky guess.
I took them from the florist, said ‘Thank you’ to her, shut the front door and put them down on the hall table. The stems were in one of those cellophane water holders so they stood up by themselves. I stared at them for a long time before I opened the card which came with them.
‘I’m so sorry. Please forgive my behaviour. Lydia,’ it said.
I could throw the card away now, try and pretend they were from one of my grateful clients. I wouldn’t do it out of spite, I’d do it to try to make things easier for everyone. But the truth was this wasn’t going to go away.
Lydia wasn’t going to go away.
And somehow or other we were going to have to find a way to try to live with it.
* * *
Josh guessed straight away when he came home.
‘They’re from Mum too, aren’t they?’ he said, looking at the flowers.
‘Yeah. Will you thank her for me, please? In a text or whatever.’
‘Sure …’ he said. He hesitated for a moment. ‘Where’s Tilda?’
‘In her room. Playing with the puppet.’
He stared some more at the flowers before saying, ‘I want to give her another chance.’
My stomach clenched. I looked at Josh and nodded. ‘OK. So you’d like me to talk to Dad?’
‘Yeah. If you don’t mind.’
‘Like I said, I can’t promise.’
‘I know. Just tell him that she really is sorry. She’s been beating herself up about it.’
I nodded. Not sure if I believed her.
* * *
Chris didn’t even mention the flowers. I knew he’d seen them. I’d left them on the table in the hall, having sensed that bringing them into any of the rooms would be the wrong thing to do. He would have walked past them on his way in from work and, unlike some men, he was far too observant to have missed them. He hadn’t asked who they were from but he knew. He had the air of a man who was trying hard not to make a bad situation worse.
And I was very aware as I sat down next to him in the lounge, after Josh and Matilda had gone to bed, that what I was about to say was indeed going to make things worse.
‘Josh wants to give Lydia another chance,’ I said.
He nodded slowly and said nothing. It was worse than him blowing a fuse.
‘He says she’s genuinely sorry. That she won’t do it again.’
Chris rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling.
‘He’s really been cut up about this, love. He’s given it a lot of thought.’
‘Well, surely you don’t want him to see her again?’
‘No. In an ideal world I wouldn’t want him to have anything more to do with her. But it’s not an ideal world, is it? And I still think this should ultimately be Josh’s decision.’
‘Believe me,’ said Chris, ‘I hate seeing him cut up like this as much as you do, but I don’t trust her not to screw up again.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Let’s say we go down your route. We ban him from seeing her, for
‘Did you tell her to do that?’ asked Chris.
‘No. I told her I was mad at her for upsetting Tilda. That was all.’
‘Then how did she know Tilda likes puppets?’
‘I probably mentioned it at some point, I don’t know.’
‘I haven’t got to send it back, have I?’ asked Matilda, a frown creasing her brow.
‘No, love,’ I said. ‘Of course you haven’t. It was a present. We’ll write a thank-you note for it later.’
‘But how will we give it to her?’ asked Matilda.
I looked at Chris. He looked away.
‘We’ll sort it out. Don’t worry,’ I said.
Matilda gazed again at her puppet and started dancing it around the kitchen.
‘Come on,’ I said, knowing Chris’s pressure valve would be close to bursting. ‘Let’s put it away for now. You don’t want it getting spoilt over breakfast.’
* * *
The flowers came when the others were all out. It was probably just as well. I didn’t think Chris could take much more. They were yellow and orange gerberas. I wondered if she’d asked Josh about my favourite colours, or whether it was just a lucky guess.
I took them from the florist, said ‘Thank you’ to her, shut the front door and put them down on the hall table. The stems were in one of those cellophane water holders so they stood up by themselves. I stared at them for a long time before I opened the card which came with them.
‘I’m so sorry. Please forgive my behaviour. Lydia,’ it said.
I could throw the card away now, try and pretend they were from one of my grateful clients. I wouldn’t do it out of spite, I’d do it to try to make things easier for everyone. But the truth was this wasn’t going to go away.
Lydia wasn’t going to go away.
And somehow or other we were going to have to find a way to try to live with it.
* * *
Josh guessed straight away when he came home.
‘They’re from Mum too, aren’t they?’ he said, looking at the flowers.
‘Yeah. Will you thank her for me, please? In a text or whatever.’
‘Sure …’ he said. He hesitated for a moment. ‘Where’s Tilda?’
‘In her room. Playing with the puppet.’
He stared some more at the flowers before saying, ‘I want to give her another chance.’
My stomach clenched. I looked at Josh and nodded. ‘OK. So you’d like me to talk to Dad?’
‘Yeah. If you don’t mind.’
‘Like I said, I can’t promise.’
‘I know. Just tell him that she really is sorry. She’s been beating herself up about it.’
I nodded. Not sure if I believed her.
* * *
Chris didn’t even mention the flowers. I knew he’d seen them. I’d left them on the table in the hall, having sensed that bringing them into any of the rooms would be the wrong thing to do. He would have walked past them on his way in from work and, unlike some men, he was far too observant to have missed them. He hadn’t asked who they were from but he knew. He had the air of a man who was trying hard not to make a bad situation worse.
And I was very aware as I sat down next to him in the lounge, after Josh and Matilda had gone to bed, that what I was about to say was indeed going to make things worse.
‘Josh wants to give Lydia another chance,’ I said.
He nodded slowly and said nothing. It was worse than him blowing a fuse.
‘He says she’s genuinely sorry. That she won’t do it again.’
Chris rolled his eyes and looked at the ceiling.
‘He’s really been cut up about this, love. He’s given it a lot of thought.’
‘Well, surely you don’t want him to see her again?’
‘No. In an ideal world I wouldn’t want him to have anything more to do with her. But it’s not an ideal world, is it? And I still think this should ultimately be Josh’s decision.’
‘Believe me,’ said Chris, ‘I hate seeing him cut up like this as much as you do, but I don’t trust her not to screw up again.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Let’s say we go down your route. We ban him from seeing her, for
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