Change of Life by Anne Stormont Page A

Sam and Jenny. They were in Sam’s room, the door was ajar and I glimpsed them sitting on the bed, chatting. They didn’t notice me as I slipped into my own room.
    I sank down on the bed and crawled under the duvet, still fully clothed and I cried for what seemed like hours.
    I slept fitfully. Early next morning I heard Tom going out with Toby for their morning jog along the beach. When they returned, Tom didn’t come into our bedroom. I didn’t get up until I heard him leave for the hospital. I looked and felt grim.
    Tom had left a curt note in the kitchen. It said he’d be staying at the hospital that night. Tom staying at the hospital was not unheard of, but it didn’t happen often. Occasionally, if there was a patient he was particularly concerned about or an operation ended late in the evening, he would stay over. I suspected neither of these reasons applied to this occasion. I shrugged and dropped the note. I couldn’t think about Tom, or any of it, yet. I had to get through this day first. It was easier to keep up a pretence of normality, go to school and then to my appointment. I’d think about the other stuff later.
    Sam and the twins slept on while Max and I had breakfast. Sam had the day off and the twins’ study leave lasted till the end of the week.
    Max was his usual sunny self. He sat opposite me at the kitchen table. “Robbie’s nice, isn’t he, Mum?”
    “Yes, he did seem nice,” I replied and I meant it. Whatever else I was unsure of, I knew I’d already made up my mind about one thing. I wanted to spend time with my nephew and get to know him.
    “It’s so cool to have a boy cousin at last. When’s he coming here again?”
    “I don’t know. We’ll have to see.” I realised I didn’t know where Robbie lived or even have a phone number for him. I also realised I hadn’t exactly gone over the top in making Robbie welcome. Neither Tom nor I had behaved well and it wouldn’t have been surprising if he didn’t want to see us again. I couldn’t bear that.
    “Mum, you look sad again, like last night. Don’t you want Robbie to come back? Is it because of your sister or because he made Dad so cross?”
    I got up and gave Max a kiss. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand.
    “Ugh, Mum!” But he was smiling as he said it. “It’ll be all right,” he continued. “Dad won’t stay cross. He’s like Adam and doesn’t like surprises.” He stood up and put his arms round my waist.
    I cuddled him tightly, struggling not to cry. “You’re a very wise boy sometimes, Maxy. And I love you very much.”
    “Love you, too, Mum.”
    As always, Max had lightened my mood. He was such an uncomplicated and cheerful lad. Despite professing to hate being kissed, he still regularly sought and accepted a hug, and still liked to cuddle up close on the sofa when watching the television. I hoped it would be some time before this changed.
    Once at school, I reminded Max I wouldn’t be there at the end of the day. And then he was off into the playground, shouting to a friend to kick the ball to him.
    Like the day before, I found work to be therapeutic as I had no time to think of anything other than what was happening in the classroom. One of my pupils, Maisie, a shy and reserved child normally, was glowing with the arrival of her baby brother. She stood up and told her news to the whole class and showed us a photo of the baby. This inspired several of the other children to share stories of wee brothers and sisters. There were tales of a two-year-old having to go to hospital to have a raisin removed from his ear and of a wee sister’s potty training accidents. Then it was time to get everyone changed for P.E. As we lined up to go to the gym, Jordan was copiously and colourfully sick on the classroom carpet. This caused hysteria among the other children, who were both disgusted and delighted. I despatched a runner to find the janitor. After break there was a maths test to do, followed by an