alone, can I?’
‘You are too kind!’
Poppy sidled under the duvet at the other end of the sofa while Claudia went to fetch the fancy pants bottle of wine and two very large glasses. Sinking down, Claudia pulled the duvet over her legs and uncorked the bottle, sending the heavenly woody scent up into the rafters of the cottage. Poppy was no wine buff, but when she took a sip of this deep, warm red, her nerves tingled and her taste buds whooped with joy, warning her throat of what was about to arrive. She swallowed the rich claret and savoured the spiced berry aftertaste that lingered.
‘This is lovely!’ Poppy held the glass up to the firelight and studied the long tears that clung to the glass.
‘Miles’ father used to say, no matter how hard-up we got, there were two things he would never tolerate: cheap shoes and cheap wine. Typical Italian!’ Claudia smiled. ‘He was a lovely man. I still miss him, although poor old thing has rather been pushed from my thoughts as Miles has taken precedent. He looked like his dad, exactly like him in fact, but his personality was more like mine, a little bit cautious, bookish. I was glad that I could claim part of him.’
‘Ten years this year.’
Claudia took a large gulp. ‘Yes. It feels both like a lifetime ago and yesterday, depending on my mood.’
Poppy nodded. It was the same for her.
Claudia stared into the fire. ‘I keep thinking that there will come a time when he will have been dead longer than he was alive and I’m not sure I want to be here then. It will make him feel very far away from me.’
This idea made Poppy feel unbelievably sad. ‘I think about the future too. I know that someday someone will want to tell Peg and Max our story and it’s not like when I was a kid, when you had to scrabble for scraps of information – they will only have to pop a few words into a search engine and there it’ll be, my life, my story, warts and all!’
‘They will be so proud of you. They are already. You’re a fabulous mum.’
Poppy beamed at the best compliment she could receive. ‘I want to be.’ Her voice was small. She pictured walking home from school and spying her mum drunk on the floor of the pub in the precinct, propped against the wall, her legs folded, her T-shirt vest slipped to reveal her bra and a small glimpse of her chest. Poppy shuddered.
Claudia continued. ‘Oh, you really are and you will find a way to tell them. Give it to them in bite-sized chunks. It will happen organically, you wait and see.’
‘I hope so. I’m glad Mart’s happy, I really am. It’s important to me that he is doing something he loves, but sometimes I just wish he’d get a normal job so we could have a normal life. No more moving, no worry and no separation. I’d love to stay where we are.’ Poppy hadn’t realised she was crying until the sob left her throat. ‘I’m sorry, Claudia, I didn’t want to fall apart, not tonight.’
‘You don’t have to apologise to me, ever.’ Claudia held Poppy’s wine-free hand.
‘It’s just that sometimes I feel a bit overwhelmed by the idea of packing up again – another new school, worrying how the kids will take to it, new neighbours, new city. I’m not saying I want them to live like I did, never going anywhere or seeing anything new, but in some ways it was quite comforting to go to bed at night in the place where we had always lived, everything familiar and knowing everyone around me. There must be a happy medium, surely. I want to stay in a house where the kids’ heights are notched on a cupboard door and I want to live somewhere long enough to plant something and watch it grow!’
Poppy took another sip of wine. ‘Oh God, listen to me, rambling on. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for, I know.’
‘It’ll all come, darling, you wait and see.’ Claudia squeezed her hand.
Both looked to the stairs as Max started crying and appeared on the top step, quickly followed by Peg, who carried him down. She
‘You are too kind!’
Poppy sidled under the duvet at the other end of the sofa while Claudia went to fetch the fancy pants bottle of wine and two very large glasses. Sinking down, Claudia pulled the duvet over her legs and uncorked the bottle, sending the heavenly woody scent up into the rafters of the cottage. Poppy was no wine buff, but when she took a sip of this deep, warm red, her nerves tingled and her taste buds whooped with joy, warning her throat of what was about to arrive. She swallowed the rich claret and savoured the spiced berry aftertaste that lingered.
‘This is lovely!’ Poppy held the glass up to the firelight and studied the long tears that clung to the glass.
‘Miles’ father used to say, no matter how hard-up we got, there were two things he would never tolerate: cheap shoes and cheap wine. Typical Italian!’ Claudia smiled. ‘He was a lovely man. I still miss him, although poor old thing has rather been pushed from my thoughts as Miles has taken precedent. He looked like his dad, exactly like him in fact, but his personality was more like mine, a little bit cautious, bookish. I was glad that I could claim part of him.’
‘Ten years this year.’
Claudia took a large gulp. ‘Yes. It feels both like a lifetime ago and yesterday, depending on my mood.’
Poppy nodded. It was the same for her.
Claudia stared into the fire. ‘I keep thinking that there will come a time when he will have been dead longer than he was alive and I’m not sure I want to be here then. It will make him feel very far away from me.’
This idea made Poppy feel unbelievably sad. ‘I think about the future too. I know that someday someone will want to tell Peg and Max our story and it’s not like when I was a kid, when you had to scrabble for scraps of information – they will only have to pop a few words into a search engine and there it’ll be, my life, my story, warts and all!’
‘They will be so proud of you. They are already. You’re a fabulous mum.’
Poppy beamed at the best compliment she could receive. ‘I want to be.’ Her voice was small. She pictured walking home from school and spying her mum drunk on the floor of the pub in the precinct, propped against the wall, her legs folded, her T-shirt vest slipped to reveal her bra and a small glimpse of her chest. Poppy shuddered.
Claudia continued. ‘Oh, you really are and you will find a way to tell them. Give it to them in bite-sized chunks. It will happen organically, you wait and see.’
‘I hope so. I’m glad Mart’s happy, I really am. It’s important to me that he is doing something he loves, but sometimes I just wish he’d get a normal job so we could have a normal life. No more moving, no worry and no separation. I’d love to stay where we are.’ Poppy hadn’t realised she was crying until the sob left her throat. ‘I’m sorry, Claudia, I didn’t want to fall apart, not tonight.’
‘You don’t have to apologise to me, ever.’ Claudia held Poppy’s wine-free hand.
‘It’s just that sometimes I feel a bit overwhelmed by the idea of packing up again – another new school, worrying how the kids will take to it, new neighbours, new city. I’m not saying I want them to live like I did, never going anywhere or seeing anything new, but in some ways it was quite comforting to go to bed at night in the place where we had always lived, everything familiar and knowing everyone around me. There must be a happy medium, surely. I want to stay in a house where the kids’ heights are notched on a cupboard door and I want to live somewhere long enough to plant something and watch it grow!’
Poppy took another sip of wine. ‘Oh God, listen to me, rambling on. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for, I know.’
‘It’ll all come, darling, you wait and see.’ Claudia squeezed her hand.
Both looked to the stairs as Max started crying and appeared on the top step, quickly followed by Peg, who carried him down. She
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