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“You ruined a perfectly good moment.” She turns to me and offers her hand. “I’m Mai.” I know who she is already. Dani is a terrible gossip.
After introductions and once I’ve given Dani a major bollocking for not telling the truth regarding the evening plans, Mai waves us all outside for my first real family meal in a very long time.
It’s gone eleven, and the evening air has a creeping chill, tingling on my bare shoulders, when I know it’s time to go home. The evening has been pleasant, and I’m so comfortable wrapped in a pashmina and watching the faces of the Bales laugh and tease in the flicker of citronella candles, a large part of me doesn’t want to leave. The smell of antiseptic coming from the candles mingling with the night jasmine creeping along the garden fence will be stored in my memory bank for a long while under the heading, ‘Good Freddy Bale Memories’. It feels nice to have one after all these years.
But it’s a far walk home, which I’m not relishing, so I know I need to make a move. “Isaac, come on, babe, it’s time to head home.” Everyone groans and Isaac makes his annoyance known in no uncertain terms, flinging his arms around like a stropping teenager. I get up from my chair and walk over to him. He folds his arms, a habit he’s picked up from me and sends me his best scowl.
“Isaac, don’t make a scene in front of your new friend. Let’s go home and maybe Bailey can come tomorrow for a while.”
This appeases him slightly and he relaxes his pose. Brushing the hair from his eyes, I watch him give a definite double blink. I know this familiar sign of extreme tiredness. Pulling him into my arms, I give him a massive hug and kiss the top of his hair. He doesn’t resist, which is also another sign of tiredness. It’s not cool to be kissed by your mum when you’re nearly ten. It hasn’t been cool since he was seven, despite my efforts to demonstrate otherwise. “Love you, Munchkin,” I whisper, and he squeezes me back. “Come on, let’s get home to bed.”
Dani is smiling at me: the biggest, goofiest grin I’ve seen from her since she snogged Archie McGregor outside the junior girls toilets thirteen years ago.
‘Are you pissed?” I ask her, covering Isaac’s ears.
“Uh, Mum, I’ve heard you say worse than that.”
“Shh. They all think I’m a good parent right now.” I laugh and grab my boy even closer.
Charles gets up and gives me a hug, “Don’t be a stranger anymore, Amber.”
“Nope, Mr Bale.” I tease. He hated me calling him Mr Bale in a former life.
Henry gives me a quick peck on the cheek, but Mai, whom I’ve enjoyed spending the last couple of hours with, gets up and gives me a giant squeeze. “See you on the school run, Monday.”
I grimace. “Uh. Monday, right.”
Freddy is watching me, his dark blues practically black in the shadowy night. “Ready?” He steps up from his chair and stretches high, revealing a perfect strip of toned stomach under his t-shirt.
“For what?”
“I’ll drive you.” He waves a key at me and takes a step forward.
“Nah, it’s cool.” I wave off his intention. “I’m not getting in that car again, anyway.” I laugh. I’m not sure whether to kiss him goodbye or not. I just stand there hovering awkwardly.
“I know. That’s why I’m taking Grant’s car.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks, I guess.”
Together, the three of us head towards a Mercedes. “Does everyone in this family drive posh cars?”
“Not all of us. I still drive my old truck.” He chuckles as he catches sight of my astonished look.
“Still?”
“Yep.” He doesn’t say anything more. He opens my door and lets Isaac into the back seat.
We drive in silence, Isaac’s breathing getting deeper as he slips into sleep.
The silence deepens until Freddy has parked outside my house. Then he spins in his seat, his arm sliding along the back of mine. Little actions like this set off memories exploding in my mind like fireworks. Each one hurts more than I would like. He still doesn’t speak and neither do I. The dark night seems to intensify around us, a heavy black, heavy and cloaking us until all I can see is Freddy shining bright by my side, while the air vacuums straight out of the universe, making my head swirl with too many thoughts.
Finally, he breaks the heavy silence with a light brush of a sigh. “Would you like me to carry Isaac up for you?” His voice is low, his tone suggesting he’s not just worried he will wake Isaac from his slumber.
I hesitate, scrunching my nose, unsure. I have a feeling watching Freddy carry Isaac to bed would be the act that brings down all my defences, could set me on a path I don’t know I want to be on.
“If you like.” My heart beats fast, thrumming in my throat with my acceptance.
Freddy gently opens Isaac’s door, sliding him into his arms like he weighs nothing more than feather-stuffed pillows. I can’t pick Isaac up even for a short hug these days. Not without nearly dying.
