Page 83 of Postscript

I open my eyes and see her waving her lolly in the air. ‘No. He was on morphine. Intravenously.’

‘This is stronger,’ she says, sucking. ‘Morphine was making me sick.’

The change from when I met her is startling, but not in the obvious ways. Yes, her body is changing, but so too is her mind. Her body is thinner but her mind is broader. She speaks more personally, when she’s not concentrating on keeping the wall up, and we have proper conversations. She is more confident, self-assured, she knows what she wants. Of course, she always knew that, but she delivers her opinions and emotions differently. She admitted her joy at being able to read the instructions on the medicine label for Jewel’s cough medicine. She reads her a bedtime story every night. Being able to read has made her feel more confident and less lost and confused by the world.

‘I think your house is haunted. Your photographs keep moving.’

I follow her gaze, through the opened patio doors through the dining room and into the living room. I assume she’s referring to the mantelpiece where the photo of Gabriel and me in happier times is gone, replaced by the fallen photograph of Gerry and me, in a smaller frame. I saw her notice it when she arrived, was waiting for the question as soon as her eyes landed on it, but to my surprise she held back.

‘Gabriel and I broke up.’

She looks at me in surprise. ‘Why? Did he cheat?’

‘No. He has a daughter who needs him, she took priority in the end.’ My immediate guilt for painting Gabriel as the bad guy tells me that I know Ava wasn’t the real reason for our break-up. The denial potion is wearing off.

‘What age is she?’

‘Your age,’ I say, connecting this for the first time. Ginika seems light years older.

‘So why does she need him, is she sick?’

‘No, I’d say troubled. In trouble at school, she acts up. Drinking, smoking, partying. Doesn’t get along with her mum and step-dad-to-be. Gabriel thought it would be best if she moved in with him.’

‘Instead of you?’

‘Basically,’ I sigh. ‘Yes.’

‘So because she’s a brat, he dumped you?’

‘She needs stability.’ I try to hide the cynicism from my voice. ‘And he didn’t dump me. I ended it.’ I’m tired of feeding her tidbits, it’s what she does with me and if we keep this up we’ll never get anywhere. I lean in, elbows on the table, face in the shade. ‘I got tired of waiting for him, Ginika. And he wasn’t supportive of me doing this.’

‘Jealousy,’ she nods understandingly, looking at the empty blanket where Jewel’s toys still lie.

‘No.’ I frown, confused. ‘Why do you say jealous?’

‘It’s obvious. Your husband did something amazing that other people are now trying to imitate. He started something pretty big. Your fella can’t compete with a dead husband, can he? No matter how good he is at chopping down trees or anything else. So he says to himself, if she’s gonna spend time with her ex-husband, I’ll move my daughter in instead of her. See how she likes it.’

I look at Ginika in surprise. This is a perspective I had perhaps foolishly not considered.

Could Gabriel have been jealous of Gerry? It makes sense, because isn’t that exactly how I felt about his reunion? ‘Ginika, you’re one of the wisest people I know.’

‘I can’t even spell wisest,’ she mutters, uncomfortable with the praise.

‘I don’t think that’s the definition of wisdom.’

‘What is the definition of wisdom?’

‘I don’t know,’ I smile wryly.

‘Five minutes with me and I’d put his daughter straight,’ Ginika says, defensive of me. ‘I might not have the energy I used to have for a good scrap, but I could ram this lollipop up her arse.’

‘Thank you, Ginika, that’s very moving, but stop trying to be teacher’s pet.’

She winks. ‘I’ve got your back, miss.’

‘And it’s thoughtful. It would both hurt her and relieve the pain.’

She laughs loudly, a real belly laugh, and her face lights up.