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He looked up and her face did not crack, but he saw her swallow in the column of her throat.
‘I thought we were going to see...’
‘Yes, well, Helene got the tickets messed up. And I’ve been meaning to go. It didn’t look good when I walked out the last time. I said we’d drop in on Jobe on the way there.’
‘Fine,’ Merida said. ‘I’ll just get my coat.’
It was snowing heavily outside as the car made its way to the hospital.
Ethan was always tense when they visited his father, but tonight he gave Jobe a smile and told him they were headed off to seeNight Forest.
‘You’re finally going to see it?’ Jobe gave a weary smile.
‘We are.’ Merida beamed, even though she was shaking inside. Not just at the prospect of going to the theatre, but because Jobe looked so grey.
Ethan watched as Merida went and sat on the edge of his father’s bed. He wondered how she did it—how she could be so comfortable in this room when every fibre in his body was on alert, every bleep of a machine had him jumping on the inside.
Not that he showed it. He was a great actor too.
And maybe Merida wasn’t quite so together, because after a couple of moments talking she got up off the bed and started looking at Jobe’s flowers.
‘These are nice,’ Merida said. ‘From Chantelle?’
Jobe nodded.
‘Let her come and see you, Jobe,’ Merida pushed.
‘I told you. I don’t want spectators.’ He turned and looked over to Ethan. ‘Have you spoken to Maurice?’
‘No.’
‘Because I want him to...’
‘Dad.’Dad.Not Jobe. He looked straight at his father. ‘I’m not here to speak about work.’
He didn’t know how to say any more than that. How to fill the silence that followed. Because work was really all he had.
It was Merida who filled it. ‘Did my obstetrician ever come and see you?’ she checked, because Jobe had made no mention of it, and though the doctor had assured her that he had, she wondered if Jobe had perhaps been medicated at the time and forgotten.
‘He did.’
‘And?’
‘I told him there was no need to tell me what you’re having because I intend on sticking around to find out.’
Ethan wasn’t so sure. ‘I’m coming in to see you again tomorrow,’ he said.
‘You’ve got the first-of-the-month board meeting, and...’
Ethan held back the hiss in his teeth and wished his father goodnight.
The theatre was packed but, rather than a box, they went straight to the house seats four rows from the front.
It was so close that Merida felt as if she could very possibly reach out and touch the stage.
‘How does it feel to be back?’ Ethan asked.
‘Fine.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing it.’
