Letting You Go (19 page)

Alex gnawed down hard on her own cookie.

Millie went on, ‘Sometimes I feel like we’re both drowning in paperwork, Mal with his incident reports and me in lesson plans. Is Jem feeling better now, stomach upset, wasn’t it?’

Alex was grappling for something to say without it smacking of a lie when the bedclothes moved beside her. Blythe woke like a child, a few seconds’ disorientation then a lazy smile for her company.

Thank God.

‘Mum,
hi.
Did you have a good sleep?’

Millie tucked her blonde waves behind her ears and leant in towards Blythe’s bed as if about to listen to a child read.

‘Mum, Millie’s here to see you. She’s brought cookies too.’ Potentially with pieces of melted plastic in them but, ‘Isn’t that nice of her and Alfie?’

Alex watched her mum’s face fall. Blythe looked suddenly wracked with concern. ‘Alfie? Alfie who?’ she drawled.

‘My Alfie, Blythe. Alfie Sinclair. You’ve seen his photos,
probably at least a hundred of them if I know my mum,’ Millie said light-heartedly.

Alex saw her mother twist the bed sheet in her left hand. ‘Alfred Sinclair? Oh no, he mustn’t come in here.’

‘Mum?’ Alex felt a small flush of embarrassment. ‘Millie hasn’t brought Alfie with her.’

‘No. No. No. No!’ Blythe was trying to speak too quickly and her slurring was worse for it.

‘Mum? Are you feeling all right?’

‘Should I get someone?’ Millie asked, rising from her seat.

‘Alfred Sinclair … is a … spineless … bastard. That’s … what your … father … thinks.’

Alex felt her eyes widen more than Millie’s. Millie looked horrified. ‘OK, Mum. It’s OK. Just rest, it’s OK.’ Good God, what was she talking about? She
never
swore. And little
Alfie
?

Blythe was getting more and more agitated. She looked firmly at Alex though as if she had something of burning importance to tell her.

‘Sorry, darling. I’m so … sorry.’

‘It’s OK, Mum. Don’t upset yourself, everything’s going to be OK.’ But Blythe was broken, tears already streaking down her pale face. Alex felt her throat close. She looked back to Millie, shell-shocked beside her chair. ‘Millie? Would you mind going and calling one of the nurses, please?’

‘Y
ou could’ve drowned!’ Alex said, mildly hysterical. Norma chewed smugly on the wayward ball she’d just retrieved. Alex grimaced at her while her heart rate levelled out. Norma had absolutely no regard for the fact that this stretch of the river could’ve been far deeper than it was or that she could have possibly,
maybe
just set in motion a series of cataclysmic events by launching herself in after a piece of squeaky plastic.

Alex slumped onto the grassy embankment and kicked her shoes off. The walk hadn’t cleared her head as much as she’d hoped. ‘Sorry, darling,’ her mum had wept. Sorry for what? Alex shook her head.
How could you ever think you had anything to be sorry for, Mum?

It wasn’t fair. It was such a stupid childish sentiment to keep coming back to, but it
wasn’t fair.
Alex angrily rubbed the droplets of water from her calves and ankles. She needed to get a grip. There were worse things than the cold shallows of rivers, far worse things, but these were the things she usually spent her energies worrying about. Alex looked out across this shallow stretch of the Old Girl. She wouldn’t
have darted in after Norma quite so heroically had her mum not been clouding her thoughts.

‘You stay there, Norma … sit … no! Don’t shake!’ Alex manoeuvred her bum and sat awkwardly on the dog lead in a bid to anchor Norma to the spot for just a minute. Any second now the puppy was going to realise that she could still wriggle from her collar if she tried hard enough.

Alex replayed in her head the way her mother’s voice had wrapped itself around the word
bastard
earlier. Jem hadn’t been home after Alex had made the grim journey back from Kerring General this evening, Alex hadn’t yet offloaded this particular nugget. Instead she’d gotten the dog and her lead and walked straight out of the house again before anyone could come home and hear her relay Blythe’s suddenly erratic behaviour. Ted would’ve gone straight there from the garage a little while ago, he might be finding out for himself right about now.

Alex fumbled around at the stones by her feet. Poor Millie, the look on her face. ‘Alex, your mum’s not well. Really, please don’t worry about it, leave that to the medical staff. Anyway, Alfie’s five years old for heaven’s sake, I’m pretty sure other than his feelings on green vegetables he hasn’t given anyone any reason to call him a spineless bastard just yet.’ Millie had put her teacher’s head on and tried to be reassuring. ‘Unless … You don’t think Blythe meant Alfie’s granddad do you, Alex? No, sorry! I’m just randomly guessing now.
Everyone
liked the mayor, didn’t they?’

Alex had come up with her own explanation. Her mother was losing her mind.

Alex sent a stone sailing over the shallows towards the timber posts, each carved into their own abstract Norse design, set along the water’s edge. She heard the splosh then a tug against the lead beneath her as Norma took an interest in the noise on the water. She wasn’t aiming for anything specifically. She didn’t know what to aim for any more. The goalposts kept shifting. Everything was in a constant state of change. Jem was leading the way, then she was hiding behind her bedroom door. Ted was infuriated, then gentle, then infuriated again. And now Blythe, yesterday eating lunch with visitors, today
swearing
at them. And Alex was just as guilty, running hot and cold all the time. Staying away from Finn, running to him for help. Not having the decency to go thank him for his help. She was out of order.

Alex let another pebble go over the water. It broke the surface somewhere near the middle of the Old Girl. Her dad used to say she had an aim that would make Eric Bristow weak at the knees. Was that the reason her mum had agreed for Alex and Finn to take Dill practising, instead of waiting for their dad to get back? Maybe if she hadn’t been such a show off. Maybe it was just fate like her mum thought. ‘
Some things are just fated to be, darling. Everything comes back full circle.
’ Fate. It wasn’t a big enough word.

Alex’s head began to spin. Would any one thing in isolation have made the difference? If Alex hadn’t been a crack shot, would they have even bothered taking the bow and
arrows? If Dill’s nerves hadn’t been so damaged at birth, would he have held on better in the tree? If he hadn’t been fighting with Jem, if their mum hadn’t wanted him out of the house for a while, if their dad hadn’t gone to help that lady on the emergency call out. Even the nettles. A series of inconspicuous events. All coming together.

Something else broke the surface of the water. Alex looked briefly at the new series of ripples just a few feet from where she sat on the embankment. She looked for a fish.

‘You’re losing your touch, Foster.’

He was standing on the river bridge behind her, earphones hanging from either side of his head, the evening sun making its dying statement across his skin. Alex exhaled slowly before her breath could catch. He strolled down towards the grassy embankment and along the footpath towards her. Finn tripped on something but turned his stumble into a little self-conscious jog before regaining his poise. It made Alex smile. Her head was throbbing and still he’d managed to affect her that way.

‘Penny for your thoughts?’

He’d been robust yesterday. Formidable. Now he was just Finn, softly spoken, clumsy. Ready to be an ear, a shoulder, a best friend.

Alex rubbed against the chill starting over her bare legs. She huddled them under her chin as if she was five years old snuggling up for story time in Millie’s reception class. ‘You would get a
lot
for your money, Finn.’

She hadn’t wanted it to be Finn that would help untangle it all for her, her mother’s wobbly recovery, her sister’s secrecy, her father’s mood swings. But it was always just so easy with him.

‘Mind if I join you?’ Finn waited politely for permission to sit in the grass with her. Norma had no doubts and was investigating his running shoes with gusto. ‘Hello, beautiful,’ he laughed. Finn reached down to reward Norma’s affection. That laugh used to be the backdrop to their summers. Now it made the hairs rise on the back of Alex’s neck like a drug. Something she’d already done cold turkey for.

‘Sure.’

Alex waited for the inevitable doubt to sink home as Finn sloped into the grass beside her, but it didn’t come. The anxiety of disappointing her father, the guilt for wanting to be this close to Finn for just a few innocent minutes, it didn’t come. It was as if Finn kept it all away. Alex took a steady breath and let it out slow. The sunlight had found itself low enough now to touch the river, the Old Girl pretty in gilt.

‘I owe you an apology, Finn.’ It was something of an understatement. She should start in reverse chronological order, she might be done by Christmas. ‘I’m sorry I put you in that situation yesterday. That horrible thug, he could’ve had a knife or …’

‘A nifty karate chop?’

‘Or anything,’ Alex continued. ‘I should’ve … been more considerate.’

Finn finished fussing Norma and sat her on the grass in
front of him. Norma rolled over and yielded wholeheartedly to him. Finn began rubbing the pink of her belly. ‘The guy was about to eat your cupcake, Foster. I know how girls get about cupcakes.’

Alex lolled her head over her shoulder. He needed to know that she was being serious. Finn returned Alex’s look with a conceding nod of the head before he turned to the water too. Something flexed over his jaw. ‘No need to apologise, Alex. It’s been a long time since I saw you like that. It was good.’

‘Like what?’

Finn lifted his chin and breathed easy. ‘Like the Alex I used to know. Before you started tripping over your own feet trying to be so …
considerate
.’

‘Oh yeah, I’ve really nailed that one to the board.’ Because picking Finn up and setting him down again when she felt like it was so considerate wasn’t it? About as considerate as sitting here with Finn now would be to her father. ‘You could’ve been hurt, Finn. Because of me.’ Finn had his elbows set on his knees. He looked over his shoulder at her, eyes narrowed in thought behind hair damp from his run. ‘There are different ways of being hurt, Foster. Anything that monkey had to offer yesterday could’ve been patched up using a cotton bud. I’m a big boy, I can take a few bumps and grazes.’

Alex knew he could take them, she’d seen him take them from a father burning with drunken, broken-hearted fury. ‘Anyway. When he touched you … he shouldn’t have done.
I didn’t like it.’ Alex felt a small rush of adrenalin, as if Finn had just said something dangerous. They should talk about something else.

‘Do you think Emma and the girls will be all right?’ Alex blathered. ‘I don’t think I’d have been able to sleep last night if your mum wasn’t putting them up.’

Finn squinted at the view. It was the same heavy serious look he had when he was sketching or painting, working out the fine details of what was holding his interest.

‘He was a loan shark. Loan sharks, bailiffs … all I know is, if they think you owe them, they’ll keep coming back until they’ve decided you don’t.’

Alex shuddered at the thought of that man coming back anywhere near those little girls. ‘Did Emma make a statement?’

‘My mum called the station. Mal came down to the Longhouse but Emma wasn’t really ready for talking much about it, yet anyway.’

‘Oh.’ Alex had given the brief version to her dad last night in passing. Ted had said something about him considering toxic debt like that once, when the garage was struggling. Only Blythe had insisted she’d go out and get work herself. Cleaning up at the Sinclairs had been one of many jobs Alex remembered her mother leaving the house for.

Alfred Sinclair is a spineless bastard. That’s what your father thinks.

Alex’s head began to swim again. Maybe there had been some long forgotten argument with Mayor Sinclair back
then? Something trivial and buried until Blythe’s stroke had short-wired everything so she could finally blurt it all out now.

Alex realised a silence was growing between them.

‘It was a breakfast muffin,’ she said casually. ‘Not a cupcake.’

Finn smiled and went along with the change in tracks. ‘A breakfast muffin?’

‘Bacon and egg.’

‘In a muffin? Little paper case and everything? Genius.’

Alex allowed herself a small stealth smile. ‘I thought you’d appreciate that.’

Finn was a connoisseur of breakfasts, sort of. Back when the Longhouse was just a lowly bed and breakfast, Susannah had got up at first light and made a welcome breakfast for a party of five who never showed. Susannah didn’t usually get upset, but after all that time and expense baking fresh drop scones and blueberry muffins and every item necessary for a B&B standard Full English breakfast, she was livid. It was all the waste that did it, she said. They’d only just had the Harvest festival down at the church and they’d been collecting for Malawi and something about seeing all that food go in the bin while children starved in the world had tipped Susannah over the edge. Alex and Finn were supposed to be going for a mooch around the Falls, but Finn had eaten his way through the majority of his mum’s breakfast spread to cheer her up. They hadn’t made it further than Godric’s gorge before he’d turned a funny pink colour and
his digestive system needed a long sit down. Finn thought he’d invented the all-in-one breakfast muffin then, lying on the granite shelf behind the second waterfall up the gorge, while Alex tried to think up new destinations to add to their
Great Adventure
list.

Finn jostled beside her. ‘You know I thought of it first. The mighty breakfast muffin. Worth a scuffle for any day, I’d say.’ Finn’s smile broke first. His eyes warmed with it and for a few seconds all seriousness from his face was lost. When it returned, he was looking straight at Alex over the top of his shoulder, his body still facing the water shielding himself, not giving her too much. ‘God damn.’ He shook his head almost imperceptibly.

‘What?’ Alex asked, her back straightening just a little in case she’d done something wrong.

‘I’d almost forgotten that smile.’ Norma tried to waddle off. Finn cleared his throat. ‘So how long before you disappear again?’ His voice had reverted back to light hearted, his words heavy all the same.

‘Once Mum’s home,’ Alex said, suddenly hit by the diminishing likelihood of that being any time soon. If they could just get her home, it just felt as if everything would click back into a bearable rhythm with Blythe back to steer them all to calmer waters. Finn didn’t ask. He knew everything he needed to from his mum probably.

‘How are things going up at the house?’ He knew not to ask that too, but he had done anyway. Alex felt ashamed. She could lie, tell him that they were all pulling together,
smile for the camera!
But Finn knew, he’d seen the carnage himself so there really was no point.

‘Jem’s being off. I just have this feeling, I should be worried for her or something. It’s throwing me a bit.’

‘Doesn’t sound like Jem.’

‘I know. First she couldn’t keep away from the hospital, now she won’t go near the place.’

‘Maybe she just wants to keep an eye on you guys at home?’

‘That’s the other thing. When Jem’s home, she’s not around much then either. She’s either in her room, on the phone. Or she’s nipping out for milk or bread or some other reason that takes her away for an hour or more.’

I think my sister might be in love with Mal Sinclair. There’s an odd tension between them and my mother saw them kissing outside Frobisher’s Tea Rooms when they were teenagers once,
Alex wanted to say. But even in her head it sounded preposterous.

‘How’s … everyone else?’ Finn. Ever the diplomat.

‘He’s, kind of lost.’

‘Of course he is, Foster. She’s his wife. Your mum is everything to him. I get that.’ Finn got that. Alex’s dad had only shown Finn anger and hostility but Finn still got that Ted Foster was driven just as vehemently by love. It would take a hell of a lot more than that to bridge the gap between them though
.

‘I don’t know how to help him.’

‘You’re here, Foster. That’s how you’re helping.’