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For your mother’s sake, I add silently.
‘You’re not my first meeting.’
And then he’s gone, leaving an aching silence in the room that neither of us seems able to fill. I put the tray down on the table that sits between the two armchairs before the fire and drop down into one of them.
‘You’re going to have to tell him, you know.’
I hear Marie’s words and I know exactly what she means. But, Christ...
‘How can I? After all this time?’
‘You just need to be honest with him.’
She moves to sit in the other chair, pressing down the plunger in the cafetière before picking up the bottle of brandy and pouring two glasses. She passes me one.
‘I was just having coff—’
‘Humour me.’ Her smile is small. ‘You look like you need it. The coffee can wait.’
I shake my head. ‘You’re incorrigible.’
But I sip it anyway. It’s not as if I need my wits about me any more. He’s gone. And instead of feeling relieved, I feel... I don’t know how I feel.
I shake my head, not ready to examine it any closer.
‘I know it’s not going to be easy, love.’
Marie sips at her own brandy, her eyes not once leaving me, their sympathetic quality making tears prick.
‘But he deserves the—’
‘Don’t say he deserves the truth, Marie. I know he’s your son, but he was the one who left...he was the one who ran...he was the one who...who...’
‘Broke your heart.’ Her lips pull back into a tight line, but dimples appear in her cheeks as she nods. ‘Yes, I know, love. I know. But he has to know the truth or it’ll eat away at you, destroy any chance you have of being able to move past this together.’
‘Who says I want to move past it together?’
Silently she studies me, her assertive gaze reading me far too well.
‘You think you can carry on like this? With this secret between you?’
‘I don’t know.’ My empty hand goes to my stomach; the other pulses around the brandy glass as I struggle to even think on it, let alone speak. ‘I just know I’m scared—scared of telling him and not knowing how he will react. Of leaving myself open...bare...having him crush me like he did before.’
Her eyes glisten in the firelight. ‘I know, and I understand. But you need to do this and trust that he’ll do right by you. He’s not the same man who ran away.’
‘You say that like you know him now.’
‘I know him well enough.’
‘How can you? He’s hardly been here.’
She doesn’t answer me, and I get the sudden impression there’s something she’s not telling me.
‘Marie?’
‘He’s been in touch a lot over the past few months...visited too, ever since the funeral. I didn’t say anything because... Well, I guess it’s been a habit for so long—none of us mentioning his name for fear of upsetting one another, and I guess more so with you.’
‘With me?’
