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‘What? Really?’ I look at her in alarm. What if she makes the situation worse?
She gives me a wan smile. ‘Wish me luck. If I don’t come back, you’ll know those rumours about Pru having a cauldron in the basement are true.’
I stand at the door, watching her walk over there. The snow is falling heavily now and I’m glad she’s wearing her flat boots with the grips. I step back inside the instant I see Pru appear.
‘Why are you crossing your fingers?’ calls Bertie. ‘Are you making a wish?’
‘Yes.’ Pasting on a smile, I walk into the kitchen.
‘What are you wishing for? Is it some new slippers?’
‘No.’
‘A TV for your room?’
I shake my head.
‘I know. A pet dinosaur for Christmas!’ He hoots with laughter at his own joke.
‘Well... that sounds good. Although where on earth we’d keep him, I really don’t know.’
‘He could live in the garden.’
I smile at Bertie, sentimental tears pricking my eyelids. He’s growing up so quickly.Tooquickly. ‘Come here.’ I hold out my arms and he comes and sits on my knee. Cuddling him close, I murmur, ‘You know what I’m really,reallywishing for this winter? I’m wishing for a happy-ever-after, for you and me, and your mum and Lois.’
He looks up at me. ‘Like in a story book?’
I nod. ‘Exactly like in a story book. And do you know what could make it happen?’
He shakes his head solemnly.
‘If we both close our eyes and wish really hard together. Okay?’
‘Okay.’ He screws his eyes tight shut. ‘I’m wishing, Clara.’ He opens one eye. ‘Why aren’t you wishing? Close your eyes!’
‘Yes, boss.’ Smiling, I shut my eyes. ‘No peeking, now.’
And sitting there, my arms around Bertie, desperate to keep him safe, I’ve never wished harder for anything in my life...
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Irene is back within the hour, looking shattered, and it’s clear she’s been crying. There are black mascara tracks down her cheeks.
‘What happened?’ I lead her anxiously into the living room. ‘Come and sit down. Bertie’s in his room and Lois is clearing up in the kitchen.’
She follows me but stands in the doorway. ‘I told Pru everything.’
‘Everything? About your horrible upbringing? And the escort agency? And being attacked? And finding yourself pregnant?’
She nods. ‘All of it. She was so determined she was going to report me for Bertie’s sake, so I had to tell her the whole story. Also about losing your dad and drinking to dull the pain.’
‘What did she say?’
Irene sighs. ‘To be fair, she listened without interruption and she seemed to believe me when I told her I’d stopped drinking and was going to AA meetings.’
‘AA meetings?’
She smiles ruefully. ‘I told you I was having dinner with a friend. But I went there instead.’
