“Come in, Robbie, come in,” I said.
“Hello, Mr McAllister,” he said, as he came over from the doorway. “Something smells nice, but I think it might need a bit of a stir.” He nodded in the direction of the cooker.
“Oh, God, yes – thanks.” I grabbed the lid off the pan and stirred hard. The chicken breasts were just beginning to stick and I prayed I’d caught them in time.
“It does smell nice, actually,” Jenny said. “What are you making, Dad?” she asked, as she peered into the pan.
“No need to sound quite so amazed,” I said. “It’s coq au vin.”
“It’s what?” said Max.
“Chicken in a red wine sauce – it has a French name – coq means chicken and au vin means in wine,” said Jenny. “Stop giggling, Max – it’s not grown up.”
Max looked at me and we both sniggered. “Coq!” said Max, hugely enjoying the double entendre.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” said Jenny. “It’s not big and it’s not clever. Grow up, both of you! I’m sorry, Robbie. My father and my brother are very immature.”
“I’m only eleven – I’m allowed to be immature!” said Max, giggling hysterically.
I was now laughing at him laughing. “And I’m only fifty one,” I managed to gasp, before collapsing into more laughter. I noticed Robbie was grinning.
“I give up,” said Jenny, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to get changed.” She left, shaking her head.
“Can I do anything to help?” asked Robbie.
“No, it’s okay, I think I can just about get control of myself on my own, but thanks for offering,” I said. This set Max off again. I was pathetically pleased that I was so amusing to an eleven year old.
“I think he means with the dinner, Dad,” giggled Max.
“Oh – right,” I said feigning surprise. “Sorry, Robbie – I don’t know what got into me – it’s Max laughing like that - it set me off too.”
“Don’t blame me!” said Max, as he went away, with great glee, to tell Sam what we were having for dinner.
“Now, would you like a beer or anything?” I asked Robbie once we were alone.
“A beer would be great,” Robbie smiled.
“Help yourself,” I said, indicating the fridge. “Bottle opener should be in the top drawer.”
“Thanks, Mr McAllister.”
“Tom – it’s Tom– we’re family after all,” I said. “And please, have a seat.”
Now as the laughter wore off, I felt uncomfortable, remembering how I’d been towards Robbie before. I turned away to the sink and filled the basin with water so I could start peeling the potatoes. I raked around in the cutlery drawer trying to locate the peeler that I’d seen Rosie and, more recently, Sam using. I found it, eventually, in a jar on the worktop where various implements were kept. I sensed Robbie watching me.
I began, as casually as I could, to peel the potatoes – not something I’d ever really done before. I cleared my throat. “And, Robbie – I’m sorry, okay – I was out of order – you know – when-”
“There’s no need to apologise. It was my own fault – shocking you like that. I honestly thought that Mrs - that Rosie would know I existed. I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble.”
“Robbie, none of what’s happened is your fault. Rosie leaving– your arrival – let’s just say, it’s not the only reason she’s moved out. And Adam – well, Adam got scared with all the changes and I didn’t help him – so he left too.”
As I spoke I was gouging great chunks out of the potatoes. It was only partly because of the stress of what I was saying, of what I was admitting to Robbie. I actually couldn’t get the damn peeler to glide like it’s supposed too.
“I went to see Rosie after school yesterday,” said Robbie. “She said you’d been round earlier and she told me about – about her illness.” He spoke gently and very quietly. “She told me Jenny and the others don’t know yet and that she’s telling them tomorrow. She wanted me to know now so I could help the girls and Max a bit – you know - afterwards.”
“I see,” was all I could say. I gripped the edge of the sink. “Does she not think I’ll be able to help them?” I stabbed at a potato.
“I don’t think it’s that. Let me help.” He was standing beside me now.
“I can look after my children, Robbie – no matter what Rosie thinks!”
“I meant with these poor things,” he said, holding his hand out to take the peeler from me and peering into the basin.
“Oh – yes – yes – okay. I’m making rather a mess of them. Give me open heart surgery any day – it’s not as hard as this. Sorry.” I handed him the peeler. “Be my guest.”
I decided to return temporarily to my comfort zone and fed Toby. This I could do. Once Robbie had finished peeling the potatoes, I suggested he might like to go and watch television with the others.
As I continued making the dinner, I found I was thinking about Rosie. I thought how she would’ve enjoyed Max’s amusement earlier and I yearned to have her back. I couldn’t conceive how a true bereavement must be. This was bad enough.
Then my mobile rang at the same time as the doorbell. I grabbed my phone from my pocket. The display on the phone said it was Rosie calling. My heart turned over. I shouted along the hall for somebody to get the door, and then went back into the kitchen and pushed the button to accept the call. My hands were shaking.
“Hello, Rosie,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
“Hello, Tom,” Rosie’s voice sounded faint, far away. “I just wanted to check that the children were still coming here tomorrow – so I can – so I can tell them.”
“Yes, they are - although not Adam – as you know. I tried phoning him to ask him to reconsider, but he isn’t answering his phone.”
“Oh – that was good of you. Actually I was hoping you would have a word with him – tell him about the cancer - try and persuade him to see me.” This surprised me. Was it a small breakthrough between us - that Rosie was asking me to do something for her?
“If you’re sure you want it to be me who tells him, I’ll certainly try to talk to him.”
“Thanks,” she said, even quieter now.
“They’re looking forward to seeing you, Rosie. But of course they’ve no idea what you’re going to be telling them.”
“I know that, Tom – I know it’s going to be hard for them. It’s going to be hard for me too.”
“Yes…” I didn’t know what to say that would be of any comfort. The whole situation was just too awful. I changed the subject. “Robbie’s here. I’m cooking dinner for us all.”
“Oh – are you? That’s nice.” Her voice sounded really weak.
“How are you, Rosie? How are you coping with the chemo?”
“Not very well – I’ve been throwing up today – not pleasant, but I’m told that will subside and I should get one good week before the next dose. Anyway, I better let you go if you’ve a meal to cook. And, Tom…”
“Yes?”
“That’s good that you’ve got Robbie round. He’s a lovely lad, isn’t he?”
“Yes he is. Listen, I don’t like to think of you alone - especially when you’re not feeling so good. I could come up to Edinburgh after dinner – be with you for the evening.”
“No, no - that’s not necessary. I’m not actually alone. But thanks for the offer. Bye Tom.” She hung up
I was a bit thrown by her hanging up so abruptly. I did wonder who was at the flat with Rosie. Most probably it was Lucy or Kirsty, but I didn’t get a chance to speculate for very long, as the kitchen door opened and my brother, Dan, came in. I’d almost forgotten about the doorbell ringing when I was answering the phone. Dan had long been in the habit of dropping in on the spur of the moment, and his impromptu visits often coincided with mealtimes, at least they did when Rosie’d been at home.
“Hi, Tom, I hope you don’t mind, but when Ma told me you were cooking I thought I had to see it for myself.” He produced
a bottle of wine from behind his back. “Have you got enough for an unexpected guest?”
“I could do without the pressure of your presence actually - you devious, smug bastard!”
“And good evening to you! I’m well - how are you? That’s the customary greeting in polite society.”
I raised my eyebrows at my smirking brother and shook my head. “You can stay, if you insist – but there’s to be no mocking of my culinary abilities - or the lack of them.” Dan was a great cook, so I felt justified in feeling defensive.
“No – I promise – no mocking. It smells good anyway.” Dan settled himself at the table and I set another place. “You look tired, Tom,” he said. “Ma’s filled me in on the latest developments. I know you already had a lot on your plate with Rosie’s reaction to Robbie turning up. But Rosie’s diagnosis and Adam leaving – I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah – well – just when you think things can’t get any worse…” I shrugged.
“And Ma also told me what you’d said about you not being Robbie’s father.” Dan paused, looked up at me.
“Yes – what of it?”
“Tom, I never thought you were –I couldn’t see you being unfaithful to Rosie – no way – and with Heather – no, it’s just unthinkable. I don’t think Rosie believes it either. She’s angry –yes - in shock - but she’ll come round. I’m sure she will.”
I smiled at my brother. “Thanks for your faith in me. I just wish Rosie shared it.”
“Like I say – give it time. Anyway, how are you coping?”
“Oh, you know – not very well really,” I said, stirring the sauce. “And remember, the kids don’t know Rosie’s ill yet. She’s telling them tomorrow.”
“I know – don’t worry. I won’t mention it in front of them.” As I put the finishing touches to the meal, I told Dan about my plans to cut back on my work hours.
“That’s a big step to take isn’t it – cutting back your time at the hospital? It’s a brave thing to do career wise. Have you really thought it through?”
“Of course I have. We – or at least - I always took it for granted that I would pursue my career and Rosie would do the hands-on parenting thing. With the result I don’t know my kids, or the first thing about running a house, and Rosie’s worn out and ill.”
“Surely you’re not blaming yourself for Rosie having cancer?”
“No, not directly but she has had a stressful time - teaching, looking after all of us. Meanwhile all I’ve had to do is go to work and do a job I love. Then I completely mishandled the Robbie situation. I’ve not exactly been a support to her, have I?”
“I suppose not – not when you put it like that. But, for what it’s worth, I think you were right not to tell Rosie at the time - about Robbie being born. There’s no way she could have handled it.”
“No, she certainly couldn’t,” I replied, glancing at my watch. “Anyway, time to dish up dinner. Could you give the kids a shout?”
The meal went well. There were some comments about ambulances on standby and Max said a grace that went along the lines of ‘for what we are about to receive give us strong stomachs to stand it’. However there were lots of noises of approval and mostly clean plates. Max picked out the mushrooms and the peppers and left them on the side, but said that, apart from those, it was ‘well tasty’. There were some remarks on the strong garlicky flavour, and Dan laughed heartily when I admitted that I’d put in a whole garlic bulb. But, all in all, my cooking was well received. I couldn’t believe how pleased I felt with myself. I decided I owed Sheena a big thank you.
There was lots of good chat round the table while we ate. Dan kept it all going and kept it light-hearted, for which I was very grateful. He and Robbie seemed to really hit it off. But that was Dan – people took to him. He was warm and easy-going and had a great sense of humour. However, even by his standards, he did connect very quickly with Robbie. I knew he was a psychiatrist and, therefore, it was to be expected he’d know what made people tick, but with Dan it wasn’t simply a professional skill, it was him – it was how he was as a person. I watched him charming Sam and Jenny, and making Max laugh, and putting Robbie at ease. And, as I watched him, I had moment of – what exactly I don’t know – a moment of revelation, I suppose – of realisation of how much my brother meant to me. He caught my eye and winked at me, and I could see in his look that he understood exactly the turmoil I was going through. I knew too that he was very aware of the terrible news that the children would get the next day from their mother.
We finished the meal by polishing off two tubs of Luca’s vanilla ice-cream – locally produced, and not only a McAllister family favourite, but the best ice-cream in the universe.
It was after nine o’clock when we got up from the table. Dan detailed the children to clear up the meal so that he and I could go and relax in the living room. He also announced that he’d drunk too much wine to drive home so would be staying over.
I found myself suggesting to Robbie that he stay over too, if it was all right with his parents, and if he didn’t mind the sofa bed in the den. “Dan better have the proper bed in the spare room as he needs a firm mattress at his age,” I said, while dodging a smack to the back of my head from my brother.
Robbie seemed pleased to be asked, and said it would be cool not having to leave and get the bus back to Edinburgh, as he was enjoying the evening so much. I was very touched at that. He said he’d phone home and check it was okay, but that his Mum and Dad would be fine about it.
“That went well,” said Dan, once we were settled on the sofas with a brandy each. “You did a good meal – well done.”
“Thank you - I think I did a not bad job,” I said. “And thanks for keeping the children’s spirits up. They’re finding it hard at times – missing Rosie and Adam – and they’re going to have a rough day tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that bro. They’re great kids. I love them all to bits - you know that.”
“I know you do and they love you.”
Dan had always been very involved in the children’s lives. He was very generous at birthdays and Christmas, but it was more than that. He spent time with them. He and his late partner, David, had taken the children ice-skating, swimming, out on picnics and on lots of other jaunts. Dan and Max had a particular bond. They shared a love of football, and of the Heart of Midlothian football club in particular. Dan gave Max his first Hearts season ticket for his ninth birthday, and the two of them had attended all the Hearts home matches together ever since. Dan was also the only person who could regularly beat Max at Monster Rumble on the Playstation.
“You’d have been a great Dad, you know,” I said to him.
Dan smiled. “I like to think so. Who knows, maybe if David had lived we might have had a child or two. Things are moving on in that regard now, but when David was alive, gay couples couldn’t adopt. We did talk about it. But then David died.”
Dan and David had twelve years together before David’s death in a road accident. Dan was silent for a moment before he continued. “I do envy you – you have four such lovely young people – that are part of you and Rosie. I can’t really imagine what that must be like. And now you have Robbie too – a late addition to the family. You’re a lucky man, Tom.”
“I know I am. I just hope I haven’t realised it too late. It’s such a cliché, but it’s true, we don’t appreciate what we’ve got till it’s gone.”
“Oh, I know that – living without David has taught me that.”
“Yes – sorry I didn’t mean – I didn’t mean you - I meant in general - and myself in particular.”
Dan shook his head. “Don’t apologise,” he said. “It applied to me too. I always thought David and I’d be together until a ripe old age. I didn’t savour all the good bits enough. I still miss him – five years on. It’s rubbish, you know, what they say about bereavement – that with time you move on and you get over it. Life does move on - relentlessly - and you’re forced to
move on too – but you don’t get over it.” Dan ran a hand through his hair and took a gulp of brandy. “In some ways,” he added, “it actually gets worse rather than better. Anyway, I don’t want to get over it.”
“I’ve never really appreciated what it must have been like for you - losing David – not until now. Not until I’ve been faced with the prospect of losing Rosie.” I should have been there for you more – at the time – you know? Christ, I’ve been such a selfish git.”
“No, you haven’t. You were there as much as I wanted you to be. There was nothing anybody could do. If I’d needed you, I’d have asked and you’d have come. I know that.”
“Well, I’d like to think I would’ve been there if you’d asked. But-”
“Look, Tom, don’t take this the wrong way, but Ma says you’ve been torturing yourself about being like Dad. You’re not – you’re a good bloke. Mind you, he wasn’t the monster you think he was – really he wasn’t.”
“I don’t know how you can defend him. The way he treated you – cutting you off because of your sexuality – how can you overlook that – quite apart from the fact that he was a cold, sadistic-”
“Tom, I know now’s not the time, but later when this stuff is all over - you must read his diaries.” I shook my head. “No, no,” Dan continued, “I know you can’t contemplate it at the moment. But since all this business with Rosie and the past, I think it’d help you. He manages to say it all in writing, all the stuff he couldn’t speak of. His motives, the way he treated us, it wasn’t out of wickedness.”
“I don’t believe there’s anything he could’ve written that would justify the way he was.”
“I could tell you what he wrote. I could tell you, try to make you see, but I know that wouldn’t work. Reading his diaries – it’s like he’s communicating directly with us. I think that’s what he intended.”
I got to my feet. “Please, Dan, not now.” I picked up the brandy bottle. “Top up?”
Dan nodded held out his glass. “Okay, I’ll back off,” he raised a hand in submission. “But you, Tom, you’ve been a good husband and father. Rosie never had any complaints before all this, did she? I know you think you’ve let her down. It’s not selfish to want to protect your wife or to establish a career that lets you provide well for your family.”
Change Of Life Page 17