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‘You said you used to stay in the cottage for holidays when you were young?’ Matt said after a while, glancing back over his shoulder towards Elder Fell Cottage.
‘Yes. It’s suffered since then. Sad to see it like that. But nothing stays the same, does it?’ she said, thinking of her mum.
‘No, nothing stays the same,’ he said quietly, and she wondered if he was thinking of his wife.
To divert him, she rattled on about the cottage. ‘There used to be a big fireplace in the sitting room, and Mam would light the fire there every night, even in the summer, because it was always cold. Big, thick stone walls you see, even on the hottest days it was cool. There was a wooden cupboard set in the wall beside the fire with initials carved on it, as old as the house. Mam told me it was for putting things in to keep them dry — salt and spices and such like — in the olden days, because everything used to get so wet in the Lake District they used to keep them near the fire. There wasn’t any salt or spices when we stayed there though, only the old visitors’ books. There used to be an ancient harmonium in the corner, like an organ, and you have to pedal to make it play. I used to play on it while Mam was cooking the tea. There was a two-ring gas cooker and an old iron kitchen stove, too. She tried to make bread in the old oven one rainy day, but we couldn’t get it hot enough and the bread was disgusting!’
‘Those sound like special holidays.’
‘They were,’ she said with a smile. ‘Now I’ve seen the cottage like that I understand why my mam didn’t want to come back and see it again. It would have made her so sad.’
‘Do you see much of your mam?’
‘I used to. But she died, last winter, not long before Christmas. I miss her.’
‘It must have been around the same time as we lost Stella,’ he said.
‘I was so sorry to hear she died,’ Amy said, with a gulp of air, because she knew she had to say something. ‘She was kind. She always spoke to me on the playground. It was cancer, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes. It was all very quick. This time last year we didn’t even know she was sick. Sometimes you wonder how you might have done things differently if you’d have known.’ She saw him make an effort to change the subject. ‘So, tell me more about those holidays. Was it just you and your mum?’
‘Yes. I never knew my dad. To be honest, I’m not sure how well my mam knew him!’ she joked. ‘Mam got pregnant with me when she was still at university, and he was a visiting student on a Commonwealth scholarship. He’d gone home by the time she realised she’d fallen pregnant.’
‘You’ve never met him?’
‘I don’t even know his surname. Mam didn’t want to talk about him. She told me he was called Michael and he was from Barbados, but there are probably a lot of Michaels in Barbados, all things considered.’
‘Wow. That’s quite a story. I had a very boring childhood. A mum who worked in an office, a dad who was a car salesman and a big sister who used to practice her make-up on me when I was little. I look amazing in green eyeshadow.’
She laughed despite herself. ‘I can imagine you do. You’ve got the colouring for it!’
‘My childhood was pretty idyllic, until dad left.’ Matt looked up at the mountains. ‘I was older than our two — nearly eleven — but everything changed for me, and I had to grow up quick. I don’t want Oliver to feel like that, like his childhood was over the minute Stella died. But he doesn’t want things to change. He wants everything to be the same, and I can’t do it. I can’t be like her. I can’t do the kind of things with him she would have done — shopping and museums and restaurants and all that kind of thing. It makes him miss her even more and it makes me feel useless because I can’t be like Stella. Sometimes I think Oliver must think he lost the wrong parent.’ He shook his head. ‘But it’s not who I am. I want him to be out there with me having adventures; I want to show him the fells and the lakes, not play in a playpark like he could at home. Harry’s got the right idea — climbing trees and playing in the tarn. I like your Harry, he’s a good kid. I wish Oliver was more like him.’
‘You wish Oliver was more like Harry?’ she said, amazed. She stopped walking and stared at him with her mouth open. What would the parents on the school playground think to hear him say that? ‘But … Oliver’s such a good boy, and Harry’s been so horrible to him and I’m so very, very sorry. I wish I knew how to stop him. James — my ex — says I should be firmer with him, but I can’t bring myself to do it. He’s had such a hard year, and so Harry —’
‘You don’t need to apologise for him. He’s a boisterous young lad, that’s all, and Olly’s very quick to get upset about silly things. I’d love it if Oliver had half Harry’s spirit.’
‘I’d love it if Harry had half of Oliver’s thoughtfulness,’ she admitted. ‘If he’d think about other people from time to time instead of blundering through, doing what he wants without a single thought for the consequences.’
They walked in silence for a few minutes, rain pattering on the hoods of their coats, drops falling heavily in the puddles now. The wind was picking up, the trees at the far edge of the campsite along the lane were swaying in the breeze, and leaves were fluttering off, swept away up the valley on the wind. It could have been October rather than July.
‘Oliver misses his mum so badly and I don’t know what to do,’ said Matt, a heavy note of sadness in his tone.
She thought for a moment before replying. She’d never imagined Matt might not know what he was doing. ‘Sometimes there doesn’t seem to be a right way to do things, does there? We’re both stumbling along in the darkness on our own, trying to do the best for our sons.’ She met his eyes properly for the first time, slate-blue eyes which made her think of rocks and storm clouds.
‘That’s a good way to put it,’ he said, softly. ‘Stumbling in the darkness on our own.’
The boys were out of sight around the corner, leaving just the two of them in the enclosed steep-sided valley. The fells surrounded them, grey cloud covering the tops, and the only eyes on them right now were those of a bird of prey soaring on the breeze.
‘Let’s hope we don’t stumble over a guy rope in the dark and fall flat on our faces like Harry did last night!’ she joked, trying to keep things light.
‘You can say that again!’ He sounded more cheerful now, the confidence returning to his voice.
‘I’m not sure me and Harry are cut out for a camping holiday. I don’t know what made me think it was a good idea,’ she said, ruefully. ‘There are too many accidents like last night waiting to happen, and I don’t think I was made for roughing it. I mean, I can see the appeal of your little campervan. You don’t have to sleep on the ground! But all those creepy-crawlies in the showers …’ She shuddered dramatically.
‘Oliver would agree with you. He likes his creature comforts too. I’m hoping to convince him there are good things about being outside. Maybe I can convince you too!’
‘Maybe.’ Squinting at the campsite through the rain, she doubted it.
‘Come on, we’d better follow the boys,’ he said.
‘They’re probably already back at the campsite. Harry’s likely to have climbed a tree and got stuck up it by now.’ Amy rolled her eyes.
‘And Oliver’s probably standing at the bottom telling him he shouldn’t be climbing it because you wouldn’t like it!’ he said with a grin.
She smiled back. Perhaps camping next to the Sutherlands for the rest of the week wasn’t going to be unendurable after all.
