The Dead Wife's Handbook (26 page)

‘And what do you like better, animals or children? I think that’s a really hard one because I really like my friends but I also really like dogs.’

Max and Eve exchange one of those knowing glances and I suspect this isn’t the first time that Eve’s heard about Ellie’s puppy obsession.

‘Oh, definitely children for me. I love dogs too but I really like being around young people. That’s why I’m a teacher.’

Ellie allows herself a few moments to contemplate Eve’s response.

‘So what do you think’s nicer – being a mummy or a teacher? ’Cos Daddy says that being a teacher is a bit like being a parent and that’s why it’s such an important job.’

Eve hesitates for a moment and there’s that flicker of disquiet again, the same look I noticed on her face at Joan and Ralph’s during that first dinner party.

There’s a discomfort in Ellie’s eyes too, the impatience of a query desperately in search of an answer. I can’t help wondering what’s going on in that active little imagination of hers, whether her mind is already racing ahead to fantasies and fears of a time when Eve might prefer parenting to teaching.

‘Munchkin, do you think that might be enough questions for now? Perhaps Eve would like to hear more about you. Why don’t you tell her about the school trip you went on last week, the one to the Science Museum, while we go and find the lions?’

The three of them head towards the big cats, Ellie chattering away, holding on tightly to Max’s arm in a clear demarcation of territory. To any passerby, however, I’m sure they look like the perfect, happy, nuclear family.

It reminds me of the day, four years ago, when I was the woman walking by Ellie’s side at the zoo, when she’d skipped in between Max and me, imploring us, again and again, to swing her into the air. She’d giggled infectiously each time we raised her off the ground, her bare legs swaying high ahead of her, the adrenaline rush like a drug she simply couldn’t get enough of. That day had been so lovely, witnessing Ellie’s wonder at seeing so many animals that for her – until then – had been the preserve of picture books and television shows, watching her astonishment as previously fictional creatures came to life before her eyes. It had been the apes in Gorilla Kingdom that had mesmerized her the most, though. She’d been bewitched by the primates’ humanoid mannerisms, laughing whenever one of the animals scratched himself, or picked something up with his hand, initially disbelieving
Max when he informed her that they were, in fact, our closest relatives, then joking that she was pleased she didn’t have a gorilla for a daddy.

It feels both like only yesterday and, paradoxically, light years ago. I remember how Max and I had agreed on the way home that it had been our favourite family outing to date, how it had been one of those rare, perfect days that make you forget, temporarily, all the fears and insecurities and anxieties you have about your ability to parent this little person you’ve been given the inexplicable privilege of taking care of and instead purely enjoy the pleasure of their company. It was a day I’ll never forget. I wonder if Ellie remembers it at all though. I suspect not. I suspect she was too young.

As the three of them head towards the lions’ den, Max and Eve exchange a surreptitious glance over Ellie’s head. It’s a look of mutual reassurance, of mutual relief, of tentative confidence. It’s a look that communicates they can’t quite believe how well this is going.

I can’t quite believe it either.

Because as proud as I am of how well Ellie’s behaving, I can’t silence the uneasy voice in my head that’s reminding me just how hard, how unnerving, how destabilizing this situation must be for her. The voice that says perhaps Ellie’s on her best behaviour because she’s fearful that if she doesn’t ingratiate herself with Eve, she risks losing the certainty of her father’s devotion. The voice that’s warning me no seven-year-old can keep that up indefinitely.

‘Can we go and see my cousins now, Daddy?’

Max looks at Ellie quizzically.

‘What cousins, sweetheart? You don’t have any cousins.’

‘The gorillas, silly. They were so funny last time we were here. I want to go and say hello to them again or they’ll think we don’t like them.’

She remembers. I really didn’t think she would. Perhaps she doesn’t remember all of it, perhaps she only remembers the gorillas and nothing else, but her remembering anything at all about that day is more than I dared hope for.

‘Of course we can, sweetheart. But do you fancy a break at the adventure playground first?’

‘Okay, Daddy. Race you there.’

As Ellie runs on ahead, Max slides his hand into Eve’s and kisses her gently on the cheek before whispering something in her ear. Whatever he says makes her smile in gratitude, her face radiant with happiness.

A few metres ahead now, Ellie glances over her shoulder to ensure they’re still following her, just in time to catch Max take Eve’s head in his hands and kiss her fully on the lips. The brightness in Ellie’s eyes darkens immediately. A cloud of confusion, hurt and rejection shadows her face, the pleasure of the day evaporating in a single, disconcerting instant. Oblivious to Ellie watching them, Max and Eve rest their foreheads together, their fingers entwined, immersed in a moment of mutual infatuation so clearly to the exclusion of all others.

I shift my glance rapidly from Ellie to Max and back again, waiting to see what Ellie will do next. For what seems like minutes but is probably, in reality, no more than a few seconds, she watches them stealthily in a haze of bewilderment and embarrassment. Whatever expecta
tions Ellie had before today’s introduction, she evidently wasn’t prepared to witness this.

Suddenly she screws her eyes tightly shut, turns her body in the opposite direction and, safe now in the knowledge that she’s managed to obliterate the sight that’s so perturbed her, opens her eyes and runs at full speed towards the playground. A split second later, Max finally prises himself away from Eve’s embrace and looks around, only to see Ellie running on ahead. He’s infinitesimally too late to know what she’s seen.

What on earth was Max thinking? Has it not occurred to him – or to Eve, for that matter – that they have one shot at this, they have just one opportunity to make a good first impression on Ellie, to prove themselves a couple who aren’t destined to exclude her? Did he not imagine that she might see their embrace and that, if she did, she’d be heartbroken? Is his intoxication so inebriating that he can’t keep in mind just how hard this must be for Ellie?

Max and Eve, ignorant still as to the cause of Ellie’s marathon sprint towards the playground, hurry on behind her, laughing to one another about a joke I’m not privy to.

When they finally catch up with her, she’s already on the swings, motioning herself back and forth with a mechanical rhythm suggestive of someone lost in the depths of their own dark thoughts. Max calls over to her, catches her attention, and points to some benches at the far end of the playground, where he and Eve settle themselves, his arm around her shoulder, her hand on his thigh.

Keeping one eye firmly on Ellie, I join Max and Eve at the bench.

‘Well, I think it’s fair to say that this is going better than either of us expected. Are you okay?’

Max runs his fingers through the ends of Eve’s immaculate hair.

‘I think so. I can’t believe how nervous I was before you both arrived. I think it was worse than waiting to go for a job interview.’

‘I’m so sorry we were late. Totally my fault. Even after all this time I forget how long it takes to leave the house when you’ve got a child in tow.’

‘It’s fine, I didn’t mind at all. It might have been a blessing, actually. Gave me a few moments to take some deep breaths and stop my legs shaking quite so much.’

They exchange a mutually supportive smile, while I take a moment to check on Ellie. She’s still on the swing, still lost in her own thoughts.

‘As I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks now, you didn’t have anything to be worried about. There was never any chance that Ellie wasn’t going to like you. I can’t imagine how anyone could find anything to dislike about you. They’d have to be mad, or stupid, or both. And Ellie’s neither.’

Eve strokes Max’s thigh and my stomach churns at the sight of a gesture which seems so natural to them and yet now so alien to me.

‘It’s not really about whether Ellie likes me at this stage, though, is it? It’s about how she feels about you bringing anyone into her life. It must be so hard for her, even contemplating the thought of sharing you with someone else, even just for an afternoon.’

‘Eve, I really don’t want you to worry. Ellie knows how much I love her. And she’s a lot tougher than she looks.’

‘I’m sure you’re right. I just really feel for her. I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose your mum so young. It must be so unbearably hard on her. And I’ve no doubt there are going to be times when it’s even harder. Adolescence without her mum around isn’t going to be easy.’

I know she’s just trying to be sympathetic but I don’t feel that either Max or I really need Eve to point this out for us.

‘You being sensitive to that is one of the many reasons you’re so amazing and why I just know you two are going to get along fine. She really likes you. I can tell.’

‘Really? Do you think so? I wasn’t sure when she was grilling me earlier whether I was giving her the right answers.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that. It may sound like she’s conducting the Spanish Inquisition, but she only ever bombards people with questions like that if she’s actually interested in them. I think it’s fair to say that you’re a bit of a hit.’

‘She’s completely adorable, Max. You must be so proud. She’s such a credit to you.’

‘Without wanting to sound like a boastful dad, I do think she’s pretty wonderful. But the fact that today is going so well is credit to you, too. I know how concerned you’ve been about this first meeting but you’re doing brilliantly.’

Eve thanks Max with a lingering kiss into which Max allows himself to be lost, appearing to have little intention of finding himself again in the immediate future.

I look up to check on Ellie – someone’s got to – and, with a stab of panic, see that she’s halfway up a climbing
frame that’s much, much too high for her, a piece of equipment that’s clearly meant for much older children. She’s glued to the spot, her eyes fixed firmly on the sight of her father embracing this interloper, the look on her face one of upset, betrayal, anger, revenge. I’ve never seen a look like it on her before. It’s as though she’s entered an entirely new emotional sphere, with a frame of reference she’s having to learn in record time, and which she’s still such a long way from understanding.

I turn back towards Max and Eve, willing them with every fibre of my defunct being to tear themselves apart, to look up, to notice the danger Ellie’s in. But they’re too engrossed in one another, too infatuated with their romance, too self-congratulatory about the day’s supposed success, their eyes focussed exclusively and hypnotically on one another.

I return my gaze to Ellie to find her continuing her ascent now, wilfully and fearlessly climbing to a height she knows is beyond her, that she knows is beyond the realm of safety, that she knows, by rights, someone should stop her from reaching. But there’s no one to prevent her, no one to ensure her safety, no one to give her a reason not to continue.

I’m shouting now, shouting desperately with every ineffectual decibel I have, shouting at Ellie to stop climbing, imploring her to come back down, beseeching her to return to safety. And I’m shouting at Max, too, begging him to cast his eyes away from Eve, just for a second, pleading with him to register where Ellie is and what’s she’s doing, urging him to remember he has a seven-year-old daughter whose welfare he’s in sole charge of and
who’s in the throes of testing his love for her in the most immediate way she can.

Ellie’s nearly at the top now and she glances towards Max and Eve once more, giving them one final opportunity to acknowledge her, affording them one last chance to redeem themselves, issuing them with the clearest of challenges – if only they’d notice it – to choose her over one other.

I look to where Ellie’s gaze is directed and am frantic to see that her silent entreaty is as futile as mine. Max and Eve are still locked in a prolonged embrace, still unaware of Ellie’s threat, still terrifyingly oblivious to the impending danger just a few feet away from them.

As I turn back to Ellie, my eyes reach her just in time to see her left foot slip, her hands thrash above her in a belated attempt to make contact with the iron bars, and her flailing body fall through the air.

I hear her scream before she hits the ground.

And then everything goes white.

I close my eyes, hoping it’s just a trick of the light, willing it to be nothing other than sheer panic that’s caused me to lose sight of her at this most critical moment. But when I open them again, there’s no Ellie to be seen, no playground in view, no sign at all as to what fate may have befallen my daughter. Just this hateful, barren, bleak void, all around.

I don’t know what to do. I feel like I can’t think, like I can’t move but I can’t stay still, that I have to get back to her even though I know there’s no way I can.

Whether I close my eyes or open them, all I can see is image upon horrific image, gruesome scenes taking up
squatting rights in my mind, refusing to move, however hard I try to evict them.

What if she’s really badly hurt? What if she’s broken something? What if the something she’s broken is life-threatening? What if her head hit the ground first? What then? What if the thing that’s happened is the thing I really can’t bear to contemplate?

There’s never been a moment I’ve been more ready to strike a deal – if striking deals is something I can do from here. I’ll do anything, anything at all, I promise, as long as Ellie’s okay. I’ll stop hoping Max’s relationship stalls, I’ll stop wishing Ellie puts the brakes on it for him, I’ll stop bemoaning the brevity of my life. I’ll stop asking for anything more, ever again.

Whatever you want, whatever I have to give, just take it, please, and make sure Ellie’s okay.