Juliette nodded, wondering how much the boy really knew about the circumstances of his parents’ split. ‘Lots of people do, yes. But it’s a very personal thing, Evin. There are no rules or guidelines. Every person has a different experience. You just have to follow your heart.’
Evin nodded and absorbed her words again. ‘I… I suppose it’s hard though. I mean… I’ve heard Uncle Kendric telling Dad to forget my mum and move on, but I don’t think he wants to. Although he doesn’t seem happy as he is either. Grown-ups are so confusing.’
She smiled again, this time at his innocent take on things. ‘That’s just it though, Evin. People don’t alwayswantto move on. Moving on almost makes it seem like you’re forgetting.’
‘But… if you keep remembering the past, won’t you be lonely for the rest of your life?’ There was an edge of desperation to his voice as he spoke. ‘That’s what worries me about my dad. I can see he’s lonely now, and so sad. And Iwanthim to move on. And Idowant him to forget about what happened with my mum. But he won’t.’ He sighed and stared at the ground. ‘I can sometimes hear him crying. And when I go into his room, he pretends it was the TV or something. He turns his back so I can’t see his face. But I’m not daft. I always know it was him. And… I feel bad for still loving my mum even though she hurt him.’
Juliette’s heart ached for the boy. No child should have to choose between their parents, but it was clear Evin was feeling he did. She reached out and squeezed his hand. ‘No, no, you mustn’t feel bad, sweetheart. She’s still your mum. And your dad wouldn’t want you to stop loving her. Believe me when I say that.’
He shook his head. ‘I just wish things were back to how they used to be. Not with Mum there or anything. But… I really wish Dad could forget. You know, like how one of those mind-wiping things works inMen in Black? Only for him to just forget the sad bits. And I wish he was happy again.’
Juliette softened her voice, wishing she could do more to help him. ‘I know you do. I can’t speak for your dad, and I know our situations are very different. But I know that inmysituation I don’t want to forget. Laurie is part of who I am. He’s part of what made me who I am today. And I’m guessing that’s how your dad feels about your mum. Just because she hurt him doesn’t mean he wants to forget. And he doesn’t want to forget because your mum is part ofyoutoo. And you are averyspecial thing that came from them being together. So, to forget your mum would be to forget the happy times they had, and that includes you coming into the world.’
‘But I don’t know what to do to make him happy. I used to make him laugh, but I think he’s forgotten how.’
‘Hey, none of this is your fault, okay? It may take your dad a while to heal from the sad things that happened, but some day he’ll be able to look back and just see the happy things. That’s what I’m trying to do. But it’s difficult. Grown-ups don’t always let themselves ask for help, and they don’t always know how to tell people how they feel. Just give your dad time. And if you do need to talk to someone who can answer you, you know where I am.’
Evin turned, and with bright eyes, he said, ‘Maybe he’ll see me at the talent show and that’ll make him happy!’
She thought back to Reid’s words about the talent show and hoped he was just lashing out, that he would support his son and be proud. With a lump of emotion tightening her throat, Juliette slipped her arm around his shoulder and squeezed him to her side. ‘Absolutely. I think he’ll love it. You’ll make him so proud.’ She only hoped she was right.
18
Aside from being busy in the museum with the tourists passing through, preparations for the games were on everyone’s minds. Juliette was getting to meet more of the locals as she attended various meetings to finalise who was doing what on the day. Thanks to lots of local publicity, a huge crowd was anticipated, and the village was buzzing. As each day passed and the event loomed closer, more decorations appeared around the place, adding to the festivities. Each house was dressed to impress. The flowers in every window box and garden pot seemed to be blooming too, and Juliette hadn’t seen a sight as pretty for a long time. Everyone was out in force, ready to make these games the best ones yet.
A huge marquee was erected on the field and inside it was a temporary stage, tables and chairs. It was a bright space and Juliette was surprised at the size. Surely, it wouldn’t be filled?
Father McAllen, the local vicar, had been away on sabbatical but had returned in time to help with the preparations and had wasted no time in introducing himself. He had come into the museum midweek.
‘Ah, you must be Mrs Fairhurst. You’re quite the talk of the town,’ he’d said as he held out his hand.
She shook it and said, ‘And you must be Father McAllen. It’s lovely to finally meet you.’ He was roughly mid-fifties with grey hair, a beard and, overall, he bore a striking resemblance to Father Christmas. She had made a mental note not to call him this.
‘And you. And please call me Geoff, or Father Geoff, if you must.’
Don’t call him Father Christmas, don’t call him Father Christmas. ‘Father Geoff it is,’ she’d replied, relieved that the right name popped out.
They had chatted at length about local history and had even got onto classic novels and his love of Walter Scott’s writings. Laurie had been a fan ofIvanhoe, but his particular favourite by Scott wasMarmion. Juliette remembered, above everything else, the quote about tangled webs and deception and smiled at the memory of Sunday mornings in the garden, her head in Laurie’s lap, long before his illness took hold, as he read aloud to her.
That thought led to more reminiscing and she remembered a haunting conversation they’d had on one such day when his illness had been hitherto undetected. They were sitting in their cottage garden on a spring morning as he read to her from her favourite Brontë classic,Wuthering Heights. They had reached the part of the story where Heathcliff demands that Cathy haunt him, that she can’t leave him alone. It always tugged at Juliette’s heart and, as she’d wiped away the tears, Laurie had placed the book down and said, ‘Would you want me to come and haunt you? You know, if I died?’
She had sat up straight and laughed. ‘Erm, probably not keen on that idea, as much as I love you. And why the talk of death all of a sudden?’
He’d shrugged. ‘Well, I’m ten years older than you; stands to reason I’ll go first.’
She had shaken her head. ‘Maybe we should read something a bit more light-hearted next time, eh? I don’t particularly want to talk about you being dead, Laurie.’
He’d held up his hand, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. ‘No, no, come on, humour me for a moment. So, you wouldn’t want me to communicate with you if I could?’
She’d cupped his face and planted a kiss on his luscious mouth. ‘I’m not exactly sure how I’d feel about some floaty, transparent version of you hovering at the end of the bed. It’s a little bit tooA Christmas Carol-esque for me.’
‘Okay, so maybe not a ghost then. How about if I visit you as something else? Like a… like a… I don’t know, abirdor something?’
She’d shaken her head and smiled, playing along for a little longer. ‘But there are agazillionbirds in the UK, so how would I know it was you?’ She’d stood to pour some more tea.
He’d thought for a moment, then said, ‘I’ll come back as a robin or something, but at the wrong time of year. When you wouldn’t expect to see one. That way you’ll know it’s me. I’ll make sure it’s at a significant point though, not just because it’s a Tuesday or something silly like that. I’ll wait until… I don’t know… a time when you’re needing support, or to know you’re on the right track.’
‘But robins are here all year,’ she had told him with a smile as she stroked his cheek, thinking of a hundred things she’d rather be doing with him right then than talking about the aviculture of the UK.
