‘Another thing we always do is a meal train. We’re embarrassingly late, but one of us is bringing you dinner every day for the next few days. If you’re going out or something, you can freeze it. Let me know if there’s any food you hate, or love, and I’ll pass it on.’
What I hated was living off crackers and cereal.
What I loved was the very thought of these women cooking and driving over a hot meal.
So there I was blubbering again, but this time it was for good reasons.
Then I went and thought about Shay, and Kieran, and all the chances to love me that had been taken from us. They’d have been feeding me creamy pasta and my favourite burritos, adding extra dollops of sour cream because they knew how much I liked it. They’d have run me baths, then tucked me up in the blanket Shay’s mum knitted for me when we first moved into the tiny terrace, taking Bob out for a walk so I could sleep.
They’d have let me cry, and mourn, and feel scared and lost and angry.
Then they’d have made me laugh so hard my poor post-birth bladder couldn’t take it.
‘I r… really like your necklace…’ I sobbed, confusing everyone apart from Sofia. ‘Wh… where d… did you get it f… from?’
‘I have no idea,’ she said, squeezing my arm, before bundling me and Bob out of the door and driving us back to our blissfully quiet, dreadfully empty cottage.
15
BECKETT
Beckett had just dropped off a couple at Nottingham railway station when he got a message from Moses.
Moses
Guys’ games night 7.30 at mine if you’re interested
We take both the cake and the competition seriously
It was not long after five. Sonali was with Gramps until nine, but Beckett had only been working since three. He really ought to do more than a four-hour shift.
Or, he thought, he really ought to do something other than work or take care of his grandfather for once.
Well, for twice, he corrected himself, thinking about the Christmas market.
He messaged Sonali.
Beckett
I’ve been invited to a games night. Any chance you could stay an extra half-hour or so?
The replies were so fast it was hard to believe she’d had time to type them out.
Sonali
Be home at 11 and not a minute earlier.
Will your new friend be at this game?
Gramps told me all about the ‘pretty lass’ who came and cleaned your kitchen. I would have dismissed it as another one of his fantasies, but those countertops didn’t wipe themselves and you’re hardly in a position right now to hire a cleaner.
Beckett
This is a guys’ night. Staying out until 11 will ruin me. I’ll be back by 10.
Beckett allowed himself a moderate glow of satisfaction at having more than one friend. He replied yes to Moses, arranged to bring some snacks, and headed to his next fare, humming along to the radio’s power-rock ballads the whole way there.
There were four men sitting at Moses’ kitchen table when Beckett arrived bearing bags of tortilla chips and salsa dip, only fifteen minutes late after the elderly woman he’d driven home had realised she’d misplaced her housekeys.
