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‘And Aiden?’ Mam asks. ‘He’s been skipping school.’
‘Just Tuesdays,’ I say, and I have to pause to draw some breath.
‘Well.’ Mam takes a deep breath, almost as deep as mine. ‘I think what you tried to do is very, very kind, Kayla. But you must know we can’t go ahead. We can’t expect people to buy us a bakery. Where would we even buy, for goodness’ sake?’
Dad winks at me as Mam rambles on and on and on. And when Mam is distracted by a knock at the door, Dad whispers, ‘I have an idea, Kay. I have a great idea.’
‘Hi, Jack,’ Mam says, as she opens the door. ‘Come on in.’
‘You know what, Mam?’ I sigh, exhausted again but also excited to know what Dad’s idea is. ‘Maybe you and Doctor Patterson could talk in his office, while I get some asleep?
Doctor Patterson looks at me with a sceptical smirk, but he nods, smiles and agrees. ‘Sure. You get some rest, Kayla. I’ll be back around later.’
‘Thanks,’ I say.
Dad gets ready to leave too, believing me.
‘Dad,’ I whisper gently. ‘Will you stay with me for a while.’
‘Sure, kiddo. I’d really love to.’
FIFTY-TWO
CHARLOTTE
December
‘How do you spell unicorn?’ Molly asks, sitting at the kitchen table with a pink pencil in her right hand and an even brighter pink notepad in front of her.
‘U-N-I-C-O-R-N,’ I reply, washing up after dinner. ‘Molly that’s about the tenth time I’ve spelt that for you today.’
‘It’s a hard word,’ Molly says, poking her tongue between her lips and scrunching her eyes as she concentrates on writing the letters.
‘Are you writing your Santa list?’ I ask, trying to scrub a stubborn stain off the baking tray.
‘Yes,’ Molly replies, twitching with excitement. ‘I’m going to show Daddy when he gets home from the hostable.’
I let the scrubbing brush fall into the sink as I turn to face my little girl. ‘Sweetheart, it might be bedtime before Daddy gets home.’
‘Is Daddy helping Kayla write her Santa list?’ Molly asks.
‘Maybe.’
‘I can’t wait for Christmas,’ Molly chirps. ‘I’m going to sit aside Kayla for dinner and I’m going to let her play with all my toys. Even my unicorn.’
Tears gather in the corners of my eyes and I look away.
‘Don’t be sad, Mammy.’ Molly hops off her chair and walks over to wrap her little arms around my legs. ‘You can play with my toys too.’
I exhale slowly and run a hand through my hair, wincing when my rubber glove lands suds into my hair.
‘What are you asking Santa for, Molly?’ I ask, fishing the scrubbing brush out of the sink, desperate for a distraction.
Molly hurries back to table and sitting down she takes a big, deep breath. ‘Barbie with pink hair to brush. Scooter that’s got shiny lights and can go fast. Fairy door so I can get new fairies.’ Molly pauses for another deep breath. ‘Mary Poppins dress-up dress and a unicorn teddy that’s all pink and purple with multicoloured hair.’ Breathless, she nods. ‘That’s all.’
‘Oh, Molly,’ I say, taking off my rubber gloves to come and see this mammoth list for myself. ‘That’s quite the list, isn’t it?’ I read the words over her shoulder.
‘I did my best writing so Santa will know I’m a good girl.’
