“I’m not five, Mum.” I smiled, anyway, and she hugged me again.
“I’m allowed to treat you like a little girl, Helen, you are my little girl. Only you’re not so little these days. I think it’s about time we all realised that.”
“Love you, Mum.” I hugged her back, really tight.
“I love you, too, love, and so does your dad. That’s what all this is about really, deep down, he just wants what’s best for you. He’s got a funny way of showing it sometimes, I know, but his heart’s in the right place.”
“I know,” I said.
She got in the car, and she was all welled up again. We watched her leave, and she waved as she pulled out of the car park.
And then there was silence.
I didn’t even know where to begin, so I didn’t. I waited for Mark to speak and wished I hadn’t.
“Carrot and coriander soup, Helen. Have you tried it?”
I pulled a face. “I don’t like carrots. Carrots are disgusting.”
“We’ll see about that.” He smirked. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
***
Mark
I relayed to Helen the essence of what her mother had said to me, but I didn’t dwell on the details. I told her she was loved, and her parents were decent people trying to do the right thing, and that it would be for the best for everyone when this was all ironed out.
“But he hates you.”
“He has every right. I betrayed his confidence in the system. You’re his little girl.”
“Still,” she said. “He punched you in the face.”
I smiled. “Yes, he did, and he’s got quite a punch. I’m not overly keen to repeat the experience.”
“I’ve never seen him hit anyone before.”
“He had extenuating circumstances.”
She laughed, and it was music. “Sunday dinners will be interesting for a while... when you come to visit.”
“I think that’s a little way off.”
She shuffled down in the passenger seat and looked so small. “I can dream though, right?”
I sighed a happy sigh. “We both can. I’m counting on it.”
The house came alive again the moment she was over the threshold. She ditched her bag in the hall and kicked her shoes off as though she’d never been away. I ditched my jacket and burrowed in the freezer, pulling out the waffles that had been waiting for her for far too long. She appeared in the doorway and stared as I fired up the oven.
“I’m not hungry,” she said. “You don’t have to do that.”
“No arguments. I promised your mother.”
She smiled. “No carrots, though. Deal?”
“Not today.”
Her expression turned serious. So serious. “I missed you,” she said.
I tipped beans into the saucepan, and then I looked at her. Properly looked at her. “I missed you, too.”
“Never again. No matter what. If you go anywhere, I’m coming.”
“Agreed.”
She took a breath. “And I’m staying. Next year, I mean. I’m not going to university. I don’t want to go. I’ve never wanted to go, not really.” She sighed. “I mean, Dad might still hound us out anyway, but if he doesn’t… if he doesn’t, then I’m staying, too.”
I shook my head. “You’re going to university, Helen. That was the deal.”
“The deal’s changed,” she said. “I’m serious, Mark, I don’t want to go.”
“And I’m serious. You’re going to university and finishing your education.” I stirred the beans. “There’s all the time in the world, Helen, and you can take some of it to finish up your study.”
But she was shaking her head. “I’m not going.”
“Helen. Stop.”
But she was walking forward, closing the distance. “Shh,” she said. “I know my own mind, and I’m done with talking.” Her fingers brushed my cheek. “Just for tonight, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“This conversation isn’t done,” I said.
“I know.” She shrugged off her blazer and tossed it aside. “But it’s done for now.” She kissed my mouth, the lightest touch, just a butterfly landing. “I need to wash my uniform, Mr Roberts… I’m all dirty…”
She pulled off her tie, and my stomach tightened, everything tightened.
“You need to eat your dinner, Helen.”
She smiled, and took the pan from the flame. “I like cold beans, cold waffles, too.”
Her fingers danced down her blouse, and I opened the washing machine. She tossed it inside and giggled, and she was still giggling when I kissed her. I lifted her onto the side, and pulled up her legs and kissed her ankles as I pulled her socks off. I hitched her enough to slide her skirt off, and pulled down her knickers as she unhooked her bra. The light above the cooker cast her in an orange glow, and the shadows were unforgiving. I swallowed as I saw her ribs, and she bit her lip.
“I’ll get better now,” she whispered. “It’s all better now.”
“Never again,” I said.