‘I would suggest you focus on his future to get him stronger, something to look forward to before you unpack this incident with him.’
Eve went back to his bedside and sat quietly. She saw his hand reach for hers, patting the bed weakly for her hand.
‘I’m here,’ she said and she stared at his face.
‘Evie,’ he whispered.
‘Yes, I’m here.’
‘I love you.’
‘I know.’
She smoothed the hairs on his arm.
‘I love you too, Edward.’
‘Call me, Ed.’
‘If you insist.’ She leaned forward and gently kissed each closed eye, his cheeks and nose and finally, a soft, lingering kiss on his lips.
‘I insist,’ he replied and fell into a deep sleep.
46
Every day Edward had to learn how to control his breath and speak slowly, so he didn’t cough. He was walking but slowly and he was so tired, he wondered if he would ever have any energy again.
He went to physiotherapy; he did the exercises in his ward and now they were telling him he could go home. But to what home?
Hil had showed him some photos. The main building of Cranberry Cross was a shell. It had taken forty-eight hours for the fire brigade to put it out, but Hil had said it was still smoking from the tower.
And Amber. Beautiful, unwell Amber.
He wished he had done more but her illness was beyond him. And now his children were without a mother.
Hil had reminded him that she was never there from the start, but he had disagreed.
‘The hope she would get better was always there for them,’ he said.
‘And so was so much worse,’ Hil said. She was quiet for a moment but Edward had the feeling she wanted to say something.
‘What is it, Hil?’ he asked.
Hil looked away, and when she turned back to him, her face had changed.
‘I grew up with a father like Amber. Charming, fantastical and a drunk. He didn’t attend any of those fancy places to try and stop drinking but we did the best we could as a family. We had the village doctor and the policeman who would let him sleep it off at the station when he started at home.’
Edward watched her pull the memories from the past to the present, pain flashing across her face.
‘There’s nothing quite like waiting for your father to come home to find out if he’s been drinking or not. The minute he opened the door and took off his shoes I could tell if we were in for a night or not. That uncertainty, that hope then despair changes a child. I am sad Amber died, but I also think there is another sort of pain watching her slowly kill herself in front of you. Flora will have very few memories and will slowly turn them into something that she will cope with. But Myles? That boy needs help, because if he doesn’t get it, he will end up like his mother.’
‘You can’t say that.’ Edward was shocked.
‘I can because I saw it happen to my brother. He saw the most, he bore the worst of the abuse, probably more than Mum.’
Edward thought about how much Myles had seen, more than he should have, more than Edward himself.
‘He needs help. I know the Pilkinses are kind and he has new friends in the boys and will be starting school with them, but this is more than just needing love. He needs to understand that none of this was his fault.’
