by Rachel Marks
‘I’m sorry, Noah.’
‘Why? It’s my fault, isn’t it? I was the idiot.’
‘Doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.’
True. It makes it hurt more.
‘So you need to prove to her that you’ve learnt,’ she continues. ‘That you’d never do anything like that again.’
I drag my hands through my hair. ‘But how do I know I wouldn’t, Mimi? What if it’s just in me and I can’t help it?’
Mimi looks as if she wants to say something but isn’t quite sure if she should.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing.’ Mimi starts tapping on her phone and then she stands up. ‘There’s an Uber just round the corner. I’ve got work tomorrow so I better get some sleep.’
I stand up to walk her to the door, not really wanting her to go. ‘Thanks for coming. And for the gifts.’
‘No problem. Hope they come in useful. Well, the memory box anyway.’
I smile, but my heart feels heavy, the intensity of the day’s emotions making me feel suddenly exhausted.
‘For what it’s worth, I think she’d be crazy to let you go,’ Mimi says, as she puts her hand on the latch.
‘Really? After everything I just told you?’
‘It’s not often you find someone who loves you like you clearly love her. That’s all any girl really wants, if they’re honest.’
I’m surprised how much it means to me to hear that. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’ Then Mimi leaves, closing the door behind her.
*
The next morning, I’m just getting out the shower when I get a text from Kate. I wrap a towel around me and sit on the bed to read it.
I got your note about the job. It made me cry ! That’s exactly what I was looking for. Thank you. I’m going to call them today x
Followed by another text.
Thank you for being you, Noah xx
And suddenly the hope returns with force and I get ready with a renewed spring in my step, like I’m walking on clouds.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
‘Boys, it’s Daddy’s day. I am not going to let you ruin it.’
Another yearly tradition. On the closest Saturday to Mum’s birthday, we have a family day out – family in this context meaning me, Kate, Gabriel and Finn, even though our real family is nowhere near that neat any more. Kate always chooses what we do, with the aim of the day being to take my mind off Mum and to try to cheer me up. I thought it would stop when Kate and I split up, but, testament to the fact she’s a remarkably better person than I am, she still insists we do it.
‘Sorry, Daddy,’ the boys say in stereo, as they reluctantly stop tearing shreds off each other in the back of the car.
‘Where are we going anyway, Mummy?’ Gabe says in that whiny way kids do.
‘I told you, it’s a surprise. You’ll like it though.’
‘Is it somewhere Nana would’ve liked?’ Finn asks, completely unaware of the emotional weight attached to his question.
Kate must notice me flinch because she reaches over and puts her hand on my leg. ‘Yeah, I’m sure she would’ve loved it.’
Seemingly satisfied, the kids plug themselves back into their in-car DVD players. And for a strange moment, it feels like we’re just a normal family again, off on a day out, and the anxiety that usually resides in my stomach, like some sort of parasite, isn’t completely conquered, but it feels like its forces have been weakened.
Kate returns her hand to her lap. ‘I’m so sorry that the wedding’s so close to your mum’s birthday. It was a complete oversight of mine. I feel terrible.’
I don’t even want to think about the wedding. I’m praying there’s not going to end up being one.
‘You were busy planning the second most exciting day of your life. It’s understandable.’
Kate smiles. ‘I’d hate for you to think I don’t care about your feelings, because I really do.’
‘I know. You’re here, aren’t you?’
Kate studies the satnav for a minute and then takes the next turn. ‘Oh, and I rang that gallery. I’ve got an interview next week. Thank you so much, Noah.’
‘Oh, it was nothing.’
Kate looks over at me and I’m sure I can see it in her eyes – the way she used to look at me – but at the same time, I’m scared to allow myself to hope. ‘It’s not nothing. You’re always surprising me, you know?’
I try to keep calm and hide my anticipation by changing the subject. ‘So where is it that we’re going today, anyway?’
‘Like the kids, you’ll have to wait and see.’
We see signs for a sculpture trail, but I don’t mention it, pretending I still don’t know where it is she’s taking me. Mum actually brought us here once when we were teenagers, but I’m not sure we were the right age to really appreciate it, shuffling all the way round with our heads to the floor wishing we were with our mates. We park up and do the usual toilet stop, both boys insisting they don’t need to go but then producing enormous wees when we force them to ‘have a try’.
‘Right, our session starts in half an hour, but we need to go and have our safety talk.’
I don’t recall any of the sculptures posing a safety risk. ‘What safety talk?’
‘Mummy, where are we going?’ Finn says, copied by Gabe.
‘There,’ Kate says, pointing to something up ahead in the forest.
Finn and Gabe run ahead and, as we get closer, I finally see the rope course suspended at a great height amongst the trees.
‘You do remember that time at the Eiffel Tower when they had to call the fire brigade to get me down because I was literally paralysed with fear and couldn’t move, don’t you?’
‘I thought that was because you were scared of the lift?’
‘Well, I was, but I was also petrified of the fact I was that far off the ground without a large metal shell otherwise known as a plane surrounding me.’
Kate takes my hand and pulls me along. ‘Come on, it’s not that high. And it’s good to face your fears. It’s life-affirming.’
‘That’s one way to describe it.’
When we reach the course, the boys stare up at it in wonder, whilst Kate queues up to check us all in. I pretend to be Macho Dad, jostling with the boys about racing ahead of them, but inside I feel like a timid toddler wishing I had a leg to hide behind. Kate comes back over with our wristbands, which I struggle to put on with frantically shaking hands. Then there’s a quick safety talk. Some cocky sixteen-year-old who’s not scared of anything joking about how to raise the alarm if you get scared and he’ll come and rescue you. Then, much to my despair, he says it’s time to put on our harnesses and attach ourselves to the overhead rope.
Kate goes first, then the two boys, with me bringing up the rear. We climb the stairs, my heart in my throat, and then we’re up on the balance beam, suspended ten metres above the ground, attached to trees with a feeble bit of rope. Only two people are allowed on a platform at a time, thank God, as they barely look strong enough to take my weight let alone several others, so I wait until Gabe steps on to the next obstacle before I join Finn. Then suddenly I notice this overconfident brat of about ten coming up behind me and about to step on to the platform.
I hold out my hand. ‘Only two people on the platform at a time. Didn’t you hear what they said?’
The boy gives me a look of contempt and, ignoring my instruction, steps on to the platform. I wrap my arms around the tree and practically push Finn off on to the next challenge.
‘Quick, Finn, get off.’
Finn looks confused but steps on to the wooden stepping-stones, skipping across them like a lamb. I follow him, gripping on to the rope above me so tightly it starts to chafe my skin. Then the little shit behind me steps on to the first one, jumping up and down so that it makes the rest of them wobble. I try to turn around to give him my scariest teacher stare, but I’m too terrified to twist my body that far so I just shout.
‘Stop
jumping.’
I hear him laughing and he starts to jump harder. I reach the platform and climb on, noticing that the tree protruding through the centre of it looks like it might have some sort of disease. It’s thinning at the top and swaying a lot, especially with twat features behind me rocking the bloody thing. Surely, it shouldn’t be moving that much. I make a note to mention it to the guys at the bottom, that’s if I make it down alive.
I quickly move on to the rope bridge, but that’s not much better, rocking from side to side with each step I take, but I can see the end in sight, the stairs down. I just need to make it to the next platform, round the corner, and I’m there.
I make it, clumsily unclip, and we’re back on the ground.
‘That was awesome,’ Gabe says. ‘Can we do it again?’
I crouch down, afraid my legs are about to buckle. ‘Well, no, but it was fun, wasn’t it?’
Kate puts her hand on my shoulder. ‘You do realize that was just the practice? To check we could get our latches over the transitions?’
I feel my heart rise into my throat. ‘Oh, yeah, I was just teasing the boys. Can’t wait.’
Kate bites back a smile.
‘Right, ready for the proper course?’ the teenage lad says. ‘You boys looked great. Dad looked a bit scared though, hey, Dad?’ He slaps me on the back and I have to resist the temptation to grab his arm and snap it.
‘Me, scared? Never. Raring to get back up there.’
‘Right, let’s go then. Do you want to do the course with the guide ropes to hold on to at the sides, or the one without the ropes?’
I look at the boys, imploring them with my eyes – please choose the one with the ropes, please choose the one with the ropes – whilst trying to look as nonchalant as possible.
‘Without the ropes,’ they both say in unison and Kate and the teenage lad laugh. I laugh too. It just gets stuck somewhere in my throat.
‘Right, come on then.’
I carefully position myself between Finn and Gabe so there’s no chance of the brat being anywhere near me, and this time Kate goes behind the three of us.
The next forty minutes is so terrifying that I have to block it out. I expect it’ll all come out as some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder, but for now I’ve squashed it deep down inside my ego or super-ego or id or whatever it is. When the end is near, of the course, not my life thankfully, I feel a moment of what can only be described as pure elation. It’s how I imagine it would feel to survive a plane crash, a sudden appreciation of the beauty of life mixed with the feeling you will forever be deeply scarred by what has happened to you. But then I realize that the rope our harnesses are attached to does not join the path back to the stairs down to the ground. It goes one way and one way only. To the zip wire. Now, I like a zip wire. Often, I’ve been known to argue with a pre-pubescent child or two that it’s my turn, not theirs, so back off. But this zip wire means launching yourself from a platform over ten metres from the ground along a wire that is over eighty metres long.
The four of us stand on the platform waiting for our turns. You’re allowed four on that platform. I did double-check.
‘I’m a bit scared, Daddy,’ Finn says, wringing his hands together.
I put my hands on his shoulders, using him for support. ‘You’ll be fine. You’ll love it once you jump off.’
The instructor beckons for Finn to come over and he nervously shuffles towards him.
‘OK, buddy. When you’re ready just jump off. Hold the rope here, not at the top.’ He shows Finn where to grip. ‘When you get to the bottom, try to land bottom first. And then Jenna down there will help to clip you off, OK?’
Finn nods.
‘Whenever you’re ready then.’
Finn walks up to the edge of the platform and I suddenly wonder what kind of responsible parent would encourage their child to jump into the abyss with only a thin rope holding them up.
‘It is perfectly safe, isn’t it? You haven’t had any incidents where a child’s been hurt, have you?’
I ask in the guise of concerned parent, but he and I both know I’m asking for me.
‘Oh, the rope snapped once, but I think the guy was just a bit overweight.’
I’m about to reach into my pocket for my phone and call the fire brigade to get us all down when the lad laughs.
‘I’m kidding. It’s perfectly safe.’ I’m not sure this is a time for jokes. I’ll be sure to put it on the feedback form. ‘Go on, Finn. Jump as high as you can.’
Finn takes a little run up and then launches himself off the platform, the tree shaking as he whizzes down to the bottom. When he lands with a bump, a young girl picks him up and helps him to unclip his harness. He stands at the bottom and I think he’s putting his thumbs up, but he’s so far away, I can’t quite make it out.
‘Right, your turn.’
I know it’s my bloody turn. There’s no one in front of me. I get how turns work.
‘Go for it, Noah. Fly like a bird,’ Kate says, giggling.
I turn around and glare at her then walk up to the edge of the platform, close my eyes and, not wanting to look like a wuss, I step off. As I do, it’s the weirdest feeling as the rope takes my weight and I’m flying through the air.
‘Woo hoo,’ I shout, as the fear turns to pure joy, and then within seconds I’m at the bottom and Finn is running over to me and hugging me. In no time at all, Gabe has joined us and we all turn to watch Kate.
As she hurtles towards the ground, her face is fixed in a wide grin and her arms and legs are wriggling like a baby who hasn’t yet learnt how to control its limbs. She lands backwards, bark flying up all over her and sticking to her hair. She unclips herself and then brushes herself off and we all walk back to the entrance to collect our certificates, then wander over to the nearby playground and get an ice cream.
Kate and I sit eating ours whilst the boys take theirs on to the climbing frame.
‘Thank you for this.’
‘Don’t be silly. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d be so scared.’
‘I wasn’t scared.’
Kate raises her eyebrows.
‘OK. Just moderately terrified.’
Kate smiles. ‘Has it helped a little?’
I nod whilst finishing my mouthful. ‘It always helps. You turn the worst part of my year into the best. I’ll always be grateful for that.’
‘Good. It’s my pleasure. I love spending time with you and the boys.’
I feel like bashing my head against hers. Come on, Kate. Doesn’t that tell you something?
‘They’ve turned out pretty well, haven’t they?’ Kate tilts her head towards the climbing frame where our sons are playing tag, then licks all round the edge of her ice cream.
‘They’re perfect.’
‘Well, I’m not sure you would’ve said that when they were beating the crap out of each other over breakfast, but they’re good boys really. They’re kind to everyone other than each other. They’re polite. They try their best. I think they’ll be good men.’
‘Like their daddy.’
Kate nods, a serious expression on her face that doesn’t quite fit with my jokey comment. ‘Just like their daddy.’
I wonder what would happen if I kissed her. I can almost taste the sweet caramel on her lips. But instead, I lift my hand to her face and wipe the ice cream off the tip of her nose with my thumb.
‘You’re messier than they are.’
I might be mistaken but it feels like she leans into my hand, like she’s pleading with me not to take it away. And then she puts her own hand on top of mine and I know I’m not imagining it.
There’s a sudden yell in the distance and instinctively we both know it’s Finn. It’s part of being a parent. There can be a hundred kids shouting and screaming around you, but you know your own in a second. We frantically search the playground for where he is. Then Kate stops looking and starts running over to the fireman’s pole, a screaming Finn lying on the ground
next to it. I follow Kate over and she picks Finn up and holds him out for inspection. Luckily, he’s got away with just a bloody fat lip, but he’s white with the shock.
‘He fell right from the top,’ Gabe says, rushing over, the concern on his face for the brother he’s usually attacking warming my heart.
Finn is hysterical and Kate holds him in close to her, his bloody lip making a mark on the shoulder of her T-shirt.
I stand behind her and kiss Finn on the forehead. ‘Come on, mister. Let’s get you home.’
I take Gabe’s hand and we walk back to the car, Kate carrying Finn and rocking him all the way, whispering ‘shh, shh’ repeatedly until he starts to calm down. Then we reach the car and strap in a child each, Kate wiping Finn’s tears and kissing his swollen lip.
‘I’m sorry your fall ruined a lovely day,’ Kate says to him, her brow furrowed.
‘It was still my favourite day,’ Finn says, a smile suddenly appearing on his face.
‘And me,’ Gabe says. ‘Best day ever.’
‘Can we have family days even when it’s not Nana’s birthday?’ Finn says, unaware, as only a child can be, that it’s a delicate subject.
‘Then it wouldn’t be as special, would it? Like if we had Christmas every day,’ Gabe says and gives me a knowing look that smashes me into pieces.
‘Exactly,’ I say, tapping him on the head.
But, like Gabe, I know that it’s a lie. And as Kate looks across the car at me, I’m pretty sure that she does too.
*
As soon as I’m home, I ring Mimi, desperate to tell her about my day with Kate, the way she held my hand to her face, the look in her eyes when Finn said what he did.
‘Hey, Noah. How did it go?’
‘I think there’s a possibility this plan of ours might work,’ I say excitedly.
‘Wow.’ Mimi is unable to hide the shock in her voice.
‘You thought it was a lost cause, didn’t you? You’ve just been humouring me with the quest to get Kate back.’