The Emerald Comb. Kathleen McGurl

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СКАЧАТЬ downsize, like the Delameres. This is our forever home, as the estate agents put it.’

      Simon gulped down the last of his beer. ‘Nothing’s forever, Katie, but right now I’m certainly not in a hurry to move again. Well, I think we’d better get young Thomas to bed before he implodes. Good of Lewis to let him share his room for tonight.’

      ‘I suspect Lewis wants the company too,’ I said.

      We gathered up children, coats and Nintendos, and set off to walk the couple of hundred yards to our house. Simon hoiked Thomas onto his back, and the other two kids skipped ahead. I wondered how long it would take for them to get to sleep tonight – they were still buzzing with excitement about their new home.

      ‘Hey, look,’ said Simon, pointing to a small turning. ‘Stables Close. That’s where the stables which once belonged to our house must have stood.’

      ‘Did we once have stables, Dad? Does that mean I can have a pony?’ Lauren asked.

      ‘Only if you go back in time, love,’ Simon said.

      Lewis grinned. ‘That would be cool, going back to the olden days.’

      We reached the front door. I pulled out my key, slotted it into the lock and turned it. It gave the satisfying click of a well-oiled mechanism, and the door swung open with a low creak. I flicked the hall light switch on, and sighed with happiness.

      Simon grinned at me as he pushed past and climbed the stairs, Thomas still clinging to his back. ‘Good to be home, eh, Katie?’

      Oh yes. So very good to be home. To think this wonderful old house, with all its layers of history, some of it my family’s history, was now ours. I offered up a silent promise to the ghosts of residents past that we’d respect their memory and the house as we brought it back to life.

      The twins started their new school the next day, and Simon was back at work. I dropped Lewis and Lauren off at the local primary they would attend for just one term before moving on to the comprehensive, then drove home with Thomas and began the mammoth task of unpacking. Thomas was surprisingly helpful; so were the twins when they came home buzzing about their new school. We made good progress, not helped at all by Simon returning home late, tired and grumpy.

      ‘Christ, Katie, there’s boxes and paper everywhere! Could you not have flattened them as you went along, or put them out in the garage? I can barely move in this hallway.’ He kicked an empty box to make his point. It knocked against a small table, sending the telephone tumbling to the floor.

      ‘For goodness sake, Simon!’ I bent to pick up the phone and put it back in its base unit. ‘I’ve been busy all day unpacking. Kitchen’s done, so are the bedrooms.’

      ‘Well, that’s something, I suppose. If we can just get these boxes out of the way so we can move around the house…’

      ‘Feel free. I’m knackered, and am doing nothing more tonight.’ I glared at him, daring him to suggest I do it now. ‘And why are you so late home anyway? I was hoping you’d get back a bit earlier today, so you could help. It’s gone eight, already.’

      ‘I had a five o’clock meeting. And it’s still an hour on the train, plus twenty minutes either side. What’s for dinner?’

      ‘We had lasagne and chips. There’s some lasagne left, I could microwave it for you.’

      ‘Reheated pasta – yuk. After my long day in the office.’

      ‘Either that or a sandwich. Which you can make yourself.’ I turned on my heel and went upstairs before he could see the tears in my eyes. I was just tired, I knew. But why had he agreed to work late on the first day in our new house?

      ‘Why’s Dad cross?’ asked Lewis as I got to the top of the stairs.

      ‘He’s tired. So am I. And it’s your bed time.’

      ‘All right, sorry, Mum. I was just coming down to tell you Thomas is crying.’

      I’d spent an hour reading him stories and cuddling him to sleep earlier, so this wasn’t welcome news. I sighed and went in to him.

      ‘What’s up, sweetheart?’ I said, crouching down on the floor beside his makeshift bed.

      ‘Lewis is being too noisy. I can’t sleep.’

      I kissed his forehead. ‘I’ll tell him to be quiet. He’s coming to bed now anyway.’

      ‘And I can’t find White Ted.’

      I could sympathise with that. My laptop and folders were still unaccounted for. White Ted was probably in the still-sealed box of cuddly toys in a corner of Thomas’s room, but I really didn’t feel up to rummaging through it right now. But if I didn’t, who would?

      ‘I’ll find him. You snuggle down now and I’ll be back with him soon.’ My knees groaned as I stood up and crossed the landing to Thomas’s room. Ripping open the box I up-ended it in the middle of the floor. It could be sorted out tomorrow. Thankfully White Ted turned up among the assorted cuddlies, and I picked him up gratefully.

      Simon appeared at the doorway. ‘Sheesh, is that the way you unpack? No wonder the house is such a tip.’ He grinned – it was clearly meant to be a joke, but I wasn’t in the mood. I glared at him.

      ‘Aw, love, let’s not argue. Sorry I was narky when I came in,’ he said, crossing the room to give me a hug. I leaned against him for a moment, enjoying the comfort but not quite wanting to forgive him yet, then went to give White Ted to Thomas.

      On Saturday, after homework and an exploratory walk with me around the village, the children spent the afternoon reorganising and playing in their rooms while I did some housework. Simon had gone to visit his mother in the Southbourne nursing home where she now lived.

      ‘How was your Mum?’ I asked Simon when he returned home in the early evening.

      He sighed, and sat down heavily at the kitchen table. Recognising the signs of a tough day, I opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Pinot Grigio I’d put in there to chill, ready for this moment. I poured him a generous glass. The kids were happily snuggled up in the sitting room, watching a Disney DVD.

      ‘Thanks, love.’ He took a swig, then sat, glass held in both hands, staring at a spot on the table. I waited. It had been six months since I last saw Veronica, and if I was being honest, I’d say I wouldn’t mind if I never saw her again. We hadn’t taken the children to see her for nearly a year. It’s not that we didn’t love her – it’s just that visiting her had become so stressful and upsetting for all involved.

      ‘Mum was, I guess, worse than last time.’ Simon took another gulp of his wine. I sat down beside him, ready to listen, if he wanted to talk about it. He didn’t always.

      ‘Did she know you?’

      ‘Sort of. She thought I was Dad. Funnily enough, that’s easier than when she thinks I’m a complete stranger. At least I can talk to her then, without her calling the nursing staff to get me ejected from her room.’

      I rubbed his shoulder in sympathy, but he shrugged my hand away.

      ‘She talked about her younger days. When she’d СКАЧАТЬ