He nods and sobs some more. Hearing his distress is cutting me up inside. I nestle my face in his hair. My heart has been aching all evening with the realisation that Rory and I are finally over. Now I ache so much I could do with some painkillers. ‘We’re going to be all right – me and you.’
Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he looks up me with watery pink eyes. ‘Are we, Aunty Emily?’ he croaks.
Why do I detect doubt in the tone of his voice? If I’m honest I am doubtful about looking after Felix. He’s certainly not the younger version of his mother.
I push a bunch of hair behind his ear. ‘There are going to be some changes, I promise.’
Felix hangs his head. ‘Yes, you said earlier about tidying up the living room.’ The gloominess in his voice says a lot about how he’s feeling at the prospect of the future consisting of just me and no Rory. Once again, I find myself wanting to give up being his legal guardian. I made the child depressed and turn to financial crime.
Staring up at the ceiling I hope Vivi is not looking down on us. What a bloody mess, Ems, she’d say.
Felix has started crying again about Rory. ‘I wanted him to be here.’
‘Let’s get some sleep. No more tears.’
He shakes his head.
For fuck’s sake Rory – why couldn’t you have been here tonight?
Felix sits up and wipes his tear-stained face. He looks at me and something flickers across his face. ‘Rory was the only one who didn’t think I was weird.’
I cast Felix a puzzled look. ‘What do you mean? I don’t think you’re weird.’
He waves his hand at me. ‘I meant before Mum went to write for God’s newspaper.’
A little ball of warm tingles shoots across my chest. That was my analogy. When he was bereft hours after his mum had died and kept asking me why his mum had left him, I had to think on my feet and that was what I’d come up with. It pacified him for a while. He hasn’t brought it up since she died. I can’t believe he’s used my analogy. He must have buried it deep inside him. My heart is swelling with pride.
‘Talk to me, Felix,’ I say, squeezing his hand.
Felix rubs his puffy eyes. ‘Rory helped me do something. When Mum was telling people on the phone I was weird and making me sad, Rory made me happy again.’
I gesture for him to carry on.
He plays with the duvet corner. ‘Mum saw me dancing once.’
My heartbeat has quickened. I think back to what I saw outside Leeds station. ‘Did she say how amazing you were at dancing?’
Felix shakes his head. ‘I was in my bedroom and wearing…’ His voice evaporates.
‘What were you wearing?’
He sits up straighter. ‘I wanted to be like them.’
‘Who?’
He takes in a huge breath. ‘The ballet dancers.’
‘Right – doing ballet, that’s not weird.’
Batting away my hand he hides his face in the duvet. ‘Mum said it was weird.’
I glance up at the ceiling. Vivi – why didn’t you tell me that evening I came over? You should have prepared me for stuff like this. ‘Felix – tell me.’
He says something into the duvet, but I can’t hear him as its muffled. ‘I can’t hear if you are going to do that.’
He sighs and removes the pillow. ‘I was wearing a girl’s pink ballet outfit. Amelie gave me it. Her mum tried to make her go to ballet, but Amelie hated it. Amelie knows how I love to dance. She gave me her outfit and told me to have fun.’ He pauses to fiddle with his T-shirt. ‘Mum said she thought I was practising rugby tackles on my bed.’
In my mind I can hear Vivi saying something like that. I love my sister dearly, but she had strong views at times, particularly on what sort of life she wanted Felix to have. She’d even planned out his future on a spreadsheet with tabs on it. I found it when sorting out her laptop. I think Felix should find his own way in life.
