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‘Andyou’dwalk over hot coals for him, gladly, am I right?’
He returns her smile. ‘I would. In a heartbeat.’
Gah. This only gets more painful. I want to shake myself back then and say:Hey! Hey, girlfriend! Miranda! Talk some sense into him. He is being rushed. He is not himself. He doesn’t know his own mind. You know this. Do something! Intervene!
But I don’t do any of that. I just drink my beer almost in one go and pretend to be pleased and try not to cry. Why do we do this, in the name of loyalty, in the name of love? Because we feel it is none of our business. Because we do not want to offend. Because we believe we are all grown-ups and that we must all take responsibility for ourselves, our choices, the outcomes of those choices.
Or is it because, deep down, we fear the loss of those we love most?
CHAPTER 48
Tommy is in his playpen on the living-room floor. He squeals when Sam comes into the room.
‘Sam-Sam!’
‘Hey there, wee fella!’ Sam picks him up and swings him around, tickles his tummy, rubs his face into his neck, making him giggle with delight. He goes to join Naomi, who is making coffee in the kitchen, talking to his son all the while. ‘How are you, Mr Tom-Tom? Eh? Tom-Tom, the baker’s son, stole a… what was it?’
‘Piper’s son,’ Naomi says. ‘Tom was the piper’s son. Do you want a biscuit? There’s some Kit Kats somewhere. Although we’ll be having dinner in an hour or so.’
‘Piper’s son, Tom-Tom,’ Sam says, nose pushed against the miniature version of his own nose. ‘Stole a pig and away he run.’ He looks up at Naomi. ‘Away he run? Ran surely? Doesn’t rhyme with son though, does it, if it’s ran? But it’s not grammatically correct.’
‘Oh my God.’ Naomi is laughing. ‘Nerd alert.’
He laughs. Hesitates. ‘Nomes? What d’you think about Toms calling me Dad now? I mean, it’s only a few days till I move in, and you know I’m not going to run off in the middle of the night. What do you think?’
‘Sure,’ she says, smiling, brushing a hand down his cheek. ‘I think I feel secure enough now.’
‘Good,’ he says, pulling her close so that she and Tommy are in his arms. ‘And that reminds me. I need to pick up the wedding bands from Axminster in the morning. I’ve had Joyce’s resized.’ He kisses first one then the other on the cheek. ‘This is it. This is all I want. My family. My little family.’
He lowers Tommy to the floor, steadies him on his chubby little legs and steps back.
‘Come on then,’ he coaxes, crouching down, hands out. ‘Can you walk to Daddy?’
‘Da-da.’
Sam looks up at Naomi and grins. ‘Did you hear that? He said da-da!’
She smiles. ‘He did!’
‘Come to Da-da!’ Sam throws out his arms again.
Tommy mirrors him, his little arms coming up. His expression earnest, he wobbles and promptly falls onto his nappy-padded bottom. After a beat, and seeing he is not hurt, both Sam and Naomi laugh. Sam lifts him, stands him in as stable a position as he can and again steps back.
‘Come to Da-da, Tom-Tom. Come on, come to Da-da, that’s it.’
Again the boy raises his arms, fingers and thumbs pinched, a fraught and terrible concentration on his little face. He wobbles, then puts one foot forward in its red leather slipper.
‘That’s it.’ Sam’s heart quickens. His boy, his son has taken a step.
He takes another, and another, arms up towards Sam, eyes locked on his. Sam inches back.
‘Nomes! Did you see that?’ Arms outstretched, he has to stop himself from shouting and frightening Toms. ‘That’s it, little fella, that’s it!’
Tommy pitches forward. Sam catches him and swings him up above his head before lowering him into his arms and kissing him on his soft head. Laughing with pure joy, he swirls his son around to face his mum.
‘Did you see that?’
Naomi is blushing with delight. ‘Tommy! You took your first steps for Daddy!’
