‘Not that late, just after eleven.’ Tiggy shrugged. ‘I’ve finished early.’
‘One sec. I didn’t hear Connor come in. I just need to check he’s home.’ Her heart pounded as she crept into the bedroom. Her relief was sweet and instant as she saw two sleeping heads sunk deep into the soft pillows. She smiled and retreated quietly, grateful that Connor must have seen her sleeping and chosen not to disturb her. She closed the door silently.
Nina flopped back down on the sofa. ‘Okay, I am all ears.’ She patted the space next to her. Tiggy sat.
‘What are we going to wear to this rugby dinner thing at Cottrell’s?’
‘Tiggy! You woke me up for that?’
‘I’m nervous! I don’t know what to wear and I don’t want to look out of place.’
‘You could wear a bin bag and still look fantastic.’
Tiggy ignored her. ‘Plus, I’m thinking of inviting Jacob.’
‘You are?’ She looked at her sister. ‘Well, no surprise after your fabulous date!’ she teased.
‘Yep, I like him, he’s . . .’ Nina watched as Tiggy’s mouth moved, searching for the words. ‘He’s not like anyone I have ever met before. I can’t stop thinking about him.’
‘Wow.’
‘Yes, wow! Completely wow! And I can’t wait till tomorrow, because that’s when I am seeing him again.’ Tiggy bit at her fingernails.
‘Tomorrow?’
‘I know, right?’
‘I really hoped you would have a good time with him, but this is off the scale!’ Nina sat back on the sofa and giggled.
‘I think there is a chance that we might be good together. I mean, early days and all that, but I’m excited!’
Nina hadn’t heard Tiggy like this, so excited and happy.
‘I am pleased for you, Tig, I really am, pleased for you both. But promise me you will take it slowly. Remember what we spoke about.’ She smiled to herself that she had only recently had this conversation with Connor. ‘I mean, we like what we know of him, but we don’t really know anything about him, do we? And I would hate to see you get hurt.’
Tiggy leaned forward and hugged her sister. ‘Me too. But you know what? I’ve had good advice. I will tell him all the things I am frightened of and let him see my faults. And then if he’s still interested . . .’
‘He will be, sis. He will be. Because you are lovely.’ She closed her eyes and could smell the vaguest hint of bonfires.
SIXTEEN
The mid-July air was warm and full of summer promise. Nina spied the boy Joshy, with the burgundy knitted scarf, sober now and being collected by an over-fussy mother and a patient dad as they loaded his trunk and TV into the back of a family car. Portswood Road was quieter, as if it could take a breather from the constant hum of life that filled it day and night as the throngs of students had dissipated for the summer. Toothless Vera was glad that without the students, her workload was halved, which meant more time for Styrofoam cups of tea in exchange for a good old gossip. Lucia told Nina she had decided to try to study at home, focusing on her art between cleaning jobs, working in the store and looking after her siblings. Nina told her she should be proud of herself. The smile of thanks she gave her was like a gift. She couldn’t wait to be in a similar position and start her nursing course. It was exciting.
She and her boys enjoyed breakfast with the French doors thrown open as they chatted about Connor’s final game of the term.
‘How are you feeling, Connor? Nervous?’
‘A bit, yes, but not because of the match, that’ll be fine. But Anna’s going to be there, and I want to be really good.’
‘Do you know what, love? I have seen the way she looks at you, on and off the pitch, and I have a sneaking suspicion that even if you never touched the ball and rolled around on the touchline, she’d think you were absolutely brilliant.’ She watched his face brighten at the compliment. ‘And you’ve packed your clean shirt and tie for the dinner?’
‘Yep.’ He nodded, sipping his juice.
‘I’m glad I’m not going to your stupid dinner. I’d rather have a sleepover at Arek’s anyway!’ Declan pouted, his expression suggesting the exact opposite.
She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. ‘I think you’ll have a lovely time, darling.’ She reached over and kissed her baby. ‘Arek’s mum told me she is making your favourite pierogi.’
Later that morning, searching for hairgrips in her bedside drawer, Nina’s hand touched upon the little matchbox. She opened it and placed the marble in the palm of her hand. Closing her eyes, she heard her mother’s words: ‘This is a little world, Nina. And if ever the real world feels too big or too scary, remember that it is nothing more than a little ball travelling through space and it fits right into the palm of your hand and the more courage you have, the braver you are when facing it, the easier it is to conquer!’
‘I hear you, Mamma,’ she whispered. And for the first time ever, she knew what she meant.
It had already been a busy day by the time Nina arrived in the stands, with the match about to start. Connor stood tall, mid-pitch, looking determinedly at the opposition, allowing himself the odd glance in Anna’s direction.
Lou patted the bench next to her. Moira handed her a mug.
‘To friendship.’ Gilly made a toast as they clunked their mugs and took a sip.
The whistle blew and the game began. It was instantly fast and ferocious. She watched as the pitch churned under the frantic activity of studded boots, and winced as bodies collided mid-tackle with sickening thuds.
‘Okay,’ Moira called. ‘You are up, Nina – go and call your support.’
Gilly and Lou looked at her. She could tell by their expressions they expected her to protest and decline.
‘You don’t have to do it,’ Gilly whispered. ‘I’ll take your turn if you like.’
Nina rested her mug on the bench and coughed to clear her throat. ‘You know what, Gilly? I do have to do it.’
Courage and bravery, Nina . . . she repeated in her head. Placing her hands either side of her mouth, she felt the rush of empowerment. She was excited, happy, to be here in the place where she lived with her friends. Her son was playing the game he loved and the sun was out.
‘Come on, Cottrell’s! Go, Connor!’ she yelled at the top of her lungs.
Her voice was loud and cut through the activity of the pitch and the chatter all around. She felt as if every pair of eyes in the place swivelled in her direction, including Connor’s. He shook his head, a smile of amusement on his face.
Anna clapped from where she stood with her pals on the touchline. ‘Go, Nina! Woohoo!’ She shouted her support.
The women high-fived each other and chuckled. Moira handed her back her mug of wine. ‘Well done, mate. Well done.’
She sat down and pictured Kathy Topps, who had shown her true colours at a time when a kind word would have made all the difference. She pictured The Tynings, the once beautiful place where she and Finn had raised two fine boys and where she had often sat alone, longing for company, as she waited for her husband to come home. Now here she was, and the message was clear. Her happiness was never going to be found in things; it was waiting for her, right here, in people.
Gilly wolf-whistled as Nina stepped from the cubicle in the girls’ bathroom in her long black skirt and white silk blouse. She had last worn this outfit for a Kings Norton function, where she had spent the evening clinging to Finn’s arm and counting down the hours until she could return to the safety of The Tynings. She smoothed the skirt with her hand. Tonight was the first time she would be attending an evening social event without Finn. Having Gilly, Tiggy and Jacob in tow certainly helped.
‘You look lovely too.’ She nodded at Gilly’s ample bust, fitted into a diamanté-laced bodice.
‘I know.’ Gilly wiggled her hips and giggled.
She met Tiggy and Jacob in the foyer. ‘You look fabulous,’ Tiggy said.
‘I feel a bit self-conscious,’ Nina repl
ied. They both knew this was a huge leap forward from her previous anxiety.
‘If it makes you feel better, I was wearing a tight shirt the other day and Toothless Vera asked me if I was pregnant.’
‘She didn’t!’ Nina laughed.
‘She did! And I have to confess it left me feeling a little confused,’ Tiggy said.
‘In what way?’
‘I didn’t know whether to be delighted that she thought I was young enough to have eggs that were still ripe enough for harvesting, or upset that I looked fat enough to be considered pregnant.’
‘Would that be such a bad thing?’ Jacob interjected.
Tiggy smiled. There was no quip or barb in reply. Instead she let her arm fall through his as they all made their way into the school hall.
The place looked beautiful. Banners hung from the ceiling congratulating the team on their season, and the round tables sparkled with shiny glassware, white china and pretty bowls of white and purple flowers – sweet peas, one of Nina’s favourites. Once everyone was seated, the lights dimmed and the rugby team made their grand entrance. Everyone stood and clapped. Nina was struck by the sight of her son and his beautiful girl striding through the hall confidently.
They enjoyed a glorious meal, accompanied by laughter and the sipping of wine. Nina noted the way Tiggy gazed at Jacob and felt a wave of love for her sister. She hoped for the very best for her.
As the pudding was served, the coach stood up and tapped his wine glass with a fork.
‘What a team!’ he began. He was met with whoops and hollers that took a good few minutes to calm. The atmosphere was electric. ‘And now can I ask for your attention while we give out tonight’s awards.’ A hush fell, punctuated with laughter as boys went up to retrieve trophies, those for ‘Highest Scorer’ and ‘Try of the Season’, interspersed with ‘Worst Haircut’ and another for the ‘Most Injuries’. All the boys spoke a few mumbled words of thanks, some more eloquently than others.
Nina loved the fact that the ceremony was inclusive and fun, and again she pictured the dislikeable Mr Moor and his arrogant dismissal of her request.
‘And now, the award for most outstanding contribution goes to . . .’ There was a beat of silence. ‘Connor “Snow” McCarrick.’
Without thinking or hesitation, Nina jumped to her feet and beamed at her boy, who walked slowly up to the claps and shouts of everyone in the room.
‘Oh my word!’ she managed, looking at Tiggy with tears in her eyes.
Finn! Look at our boy! Look at him!
She took her seat and smiled at her sister and friends, who all offered their congratulations.
Connor shook hands with the coach. She saw his nerves as he looked out over the sea of faces, all staring at him expectedly.
‘My dad died,’ he began, ‘and I didn’t want to come here to play rugby. Didn’t want to come here at all.’
Nina swallowed tears. The room was silent. ‘But now I am glad I did.’ He held up his trophy and a ripple of laughter made its way around the room. ‘I’ve been lucky to have a strong figure in my life who I have always looked up to, who taught me everything that is worth knowing, and the true meaning of determination, courage and faith. I dedicate my award to that person.’
Nina looked down, not wanting the tears to spill, grateful her son still looked up to Finn, mentioned in this way. It meant that, despite the manner of his death hanging over them like a sharp question mark around which they skirted, her son could see beyond that. But Connor’s next words knocked her off balance.
Connor continued. ‘It’s my brilliant mum, Nina.’
As the room erupted with claps and cheers, she knew she would carry this moment of pure joy with her always. She looked up at Connor, her wonderful boy, who had indeed come back to her. His words were the most beautiful expression of love she had ever heard. You are what we did right, Connor, you and Declan!
With the speeches finished, the lights dimmed as the DJ set up on the dance floor.
Tiggy shifted along, until she was sitting next to her at the table.
‘You’ve done good, you know,’ Tiggy whispered.
‘Thank you, yes. It’s been a lovely day.’ Nina smiled.
She shook her head. ‘I don’t mean today, Nina. I mean these last few months. You took those posh kids of yours and you swept them up and kept them safe and kept them sane. You are a good mum.’
‘Good Lord, what has come over you? How many glasses of wine have you had?’
‘I mean it.’
‘Thank you, Tig.’ She reached over and squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘I think I like the new you. Being part of a couple suits you.’
‘I really like him.’
‘I know, Tig.’ The two sisters leaned in together, laughing conspiratorially.
Connor strode over with his arm outstretched. ‘Come on, Mum.’
‘What? You don’t want to dance with me!’ She tutted.
‘Actually I do.’ He took her hand and walked her to the dance floor. She felt Finn’s signet ring against her fingers. Ed Sheeran’s ‘Thinking Out Loud’ started to play, and she held her son’s hand, with his other on her waist.
‘I wish Dad could see me,’ he said, without anguish.
‘Dad is you. He’s half of you. He knows you, darling, and he is proud of you. Always was and always will be.’
‘And I’m half you.’
‘Yep.’
Connor stopped dancing and looked her in the eye. ‘I was so scared when we came here, Mum.’
‘Me too,’ she confessed.
‘For my whole life I had never seen you do anything apart from buy things for the house, cook us food and drop us at school. And when I stepped from the van that day, I couldn’t begin to imagine how we were going to live. I was petrified. I thought it was going to be down to me to keep everything together and I didn’t know how! And you could only say everything was going to be okay, but I could see you didn’t have a plan.’
Nina felt the familiar slip of tears down her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry . . .’ she managed.
‘No. Don’t be sorry, Mum. It wasn’t your fault. You were as ill equipped as I was, as I am, but you did it. We did it.’
‘Yes, we did.’ She rested her head on his shoulder.
Nina parked the van at the kerb and beeped the horn. She laughed, thinking of all the people she might be disturbing on this Saturday morning and was only saddened that Joshy had gone home – she would have liked to wake him up at this ungodly hour. She had saved the cash for this trip to Saltford and that in itself felt like an achievement. It represented the plain, home-made birthday cake that Connor had been given, hair-washing without shampoo, and countless rumbly tummies for which she had to apologise while she waited to eat her free lunch. Tiggy came out of the building with the boys and jumped into the front seat next to her sister. Despite being up so early, Connor was still high on his award and Declan had jumped at the chance of the trip, of a day out in a van. Nina hoped good might come from it, maybe an open discussion that would help carry them forward, despite their destination.
It was odd driving along the winding A46, the city of Bath looming in the distance. They had been away for nearly six months, but it could have been a lifetime. It was a grey, rainy morning – entirely appropriate as they headed towards the city that held a mishmash of memories, most recently ones of sorrow.
‘Are you okay, boys?’ She glanced at the back seat. They both gave stiff nods. Connor kept his eyes on the window, unlike Declan clearly aware of the road on which they travelled and the fact that a mile or so further along was the place where his daddy had died.
‘I bet it’s strange heading back to Bath, is it?’ Tiggy asked.
‘I keep thinking we are going home and that makes me feel a bit sad, and I think that maybe Dad is at home and that makes me even sadder.’ Declan spoke so candidly. Nina’s confidence in the decision to bring the boys wavered.
She reached back between the front seats and patted hi
s leg. They drove along in silence until they reached Hollydown Farm, parking in front of the rather grand Georgian farmhouse. It reminded her of a miniature doll’s house, but in life size. Mr Firth, his wife and one of their children, a blonde girl in her mid-teens, came out of the front door to greet them. They were well dressed and groomed, and as they stood in front of their duck-egg blue front door with its brass lion-head knocker, Nina felt a wave of déjà vu for a life that had passed.
Beautiful house, check. Expensive clothes and hairdo, check. Happy, smiley child, check. Successful husband, check. And yet, rather than look at the trio with envy, she felt something closer to unease, knowing that her own perfect life had been built on a foundation of shifting sand. And when it shifted, it happened quicker than she could ever have imagined.
‘Welcome, Nina! It’s good to see you.’ Mr Firth was his usual, kind, welcoming self. ‘And boys, hello!’
She watched with a measure of pride as first Connor and then Declan stepped forward to shake the man’s hand. She introduced Tiggy, and the group declined the offer of tea from his charming wife, who looked at Nina with an expression that was a combination of pity and kindness. She fought the temptation to explain that she now had a job and was planning to study, and that her boys were happier than she had hoped for. Instead, she smiled politely, realising that it didn’t matter what Mrs Firth or anyone else thought. It was what she thought that counted.
The troupe made their way to a steel-constructed barn, one of a number of outbuildings. Mr Firth undid the giant padlock and hefted the wide door open. Inside sat a ride-on mower and various bikes mounted on wall brackets. Their boxes lined the wall, marked in a hurried scrawl ‘Garden Stuff’, ‘Picnic’, ‘Christmas Lights’. Just recently the contents had seemed so important, causing her sleepless nights of concern as she planned what and how to pack. She ran her fingers over a box and wondered how the things inside would now fit into her smaller life, where space was at a premium, leisure time was limited and the immediate needs of her family were the primary concern rather than festive holiday lighting. These frivolous trappings contrasted with how close she had grown to her sons and her sister, in the face of hardship and struggle, far closer than at any time of affluence.
The Art of Hiding Page 28