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‘I miss her all the time.’
‘Do you talk about h
er, with your uncle?’ she asked quietly, even though she already knew what Jake had told her.
‘No.’
‘Why not?’ she pressed gently.
‘I think it makes him sad.’ He sucked in a breath. ‘It makes me sad, too, sometimes. But it also makes me happy to remember her. I don’t think it makes Uncle Jake happy to remember Mummy. I think he would prefer to forget her.’
Her heart almost broke for the little boy. Brady did grieve for his mother. He just held it in, keeping it away from Jake because he didn’t want to hurt his uncle. The way she had done with her father when her mother had walked out on the family.
Only, she’d been lucky. She’d had her sister to talk to.
‘Oh, Brady, I don’t think that’s true. I think your uncle would hate to know you felt you couldn’t talk about your mummy to him. I don’t think he’d want you to forget her.’
‘I won’t forget her. I have a memory box. Mummy and I made it together when I was a kid.’
‘Does it have photos?’
She didn’t like to point out that, at seven years old, he still was a kid.
‘Lots and lots of photos.’ He nodded. ‘And flowers we picked on picnics, the programme for a football game we went to, cinema tickets, museum tickets, tickets to our favourite film...’ He trailed off. ‘It’s in England, though. So I can’t show you.’
‘And you’ve never shown your uncle?’
‘No, but I nearly showed Oz once.’
‘Who’s Oz?’
‘He’s Uncle Jake’s best friend. He’s kinda cool and he does have a lot of girlfriends. I talk to him about Mummy sometimes, but not always. I don’t want Uncle Jake to hear and be upset.’
‘What about you? Do you have a best friend? In school, maybe?’
‘Not really.’ He shook his head. ‘I did have one at my old school, but I had to leave it because Uncle Jake works in London, and they’re not as friendly in my new school. Sometimes they crawl under the table when the teacher is out of the room and slap my legs. And they play games I don’t know, or won’t let me join in because in my old school we had different rules. I bet you had a lot of best friends when you were in school.’
‘I’ll let you into a little secret,’ Flávia whispered, wishing with every fibre of her being that she could haul the little boy into her arms and cuddle all his unhappiness away. But she couldn’t bring back his mum, and that was the one thing he would really want. ‘I didn’t have many friends in school, either.’
‘So, what did you do?’
‘I was lucky. I had my sister,’ she admitted. ‘And when I came home I had papai and vovô. My dad and my granddad.’
‘I have a granddad. And a grandma. But I only met them once. Mummy didn’t like them. She said that they weren’t unkind but that they were very cold, and they didn’t know how to show love. She told me that was why she wanted me to live with Uncle Jake.’
‘Because he knew how to show love?’ Flávia managed, her heart breaking all over again.
‘She said he could learn, but my granddad and grandma never could. She said Uncle Jake was a good brother when they were little, they had just gone different ways when they grew older. She told me it was going to be my job to teach him how to love. Because she thought he could, he just doesn’t know how to. But I don’t know how to teach him.’ He looked up at her abruptly, his eyes swimming. ‘He isn’t like Mummy and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.’
She glanced up to where Jake was in the gallery, but he wasn’t there. Hoping against hope he was on his way down, Flávia didn’t think twice. She moved around the table, her arms going around the tiny, shaking body, her mouth pressed to his head, her voice low and soothing. And if it was a little choked up, she prayed that Brady couldn’t tell.
‘You’re not supposed to do anything, sweetheart. You’re doing everything right, trust me. I know your uncle loves you, very much. I just don’t think he knows how to show it, but I think you can teach him. Just like your mummy believed you could.’
‘You have to help me,’ he whispered fiercely.
She wasn’t sure that she was the best person to teach anybody about love. Sure, she loved her family with everything she had, but she didn’t know how to love anybody else. Hadn’t Enrico taught her that much? Hadn’t he pointed out how selfish she was when he called off their engagement? How wrong she was for being unwilling to sacrifice the dangers of her career for a life with him?
He’d made her choose between risking her life with her deadly snakes, and marrying him and having a family. And she’d wished she could choose him. She’d wished she could be the kind of person who would want to choose love.
