Learning to Love

by Sheryl Browne

  ‘And choclat,’ Chloe added her preference, blinking huge beguiling eyes at him.

  ‘One hot chocolate coming up.’ David offered her a broad smile too, and turned back to the kitchen.

  Chapter Six

  Andrea heard David come into his lounge, once he’d finished helping the boys get organised upstairs.

  ‘Okay?’ he asked her gently.

  Unable to squeeze a response past the tight lump in her throat, Andrea simply nodded and continued to stare stunned out of the window, her arms wrapped tightly about herself, as if she could somehow keep the emotion inside. The lights were rotating ominously now rather than urgently, casting blue shadows on the walls beyond her, each slow, rhythmic sweep sending a chill right through her. She couldn’t believe it. Her whole life reduced to ashes in such a short space of time. Never had she felt so devastated and, even in a houseful of people, so utterly alone. Where was Jonathan? Why wasn’t he here?

  ‘I’ve brought you some tea,’ David said. ‘It won’t help much, but it’s warm and wet at least.’

  His house, Andrea reminded herself, offered as a safe haven for her distraught family. Pulling in a breath, she tried somehow to pull herself together and at least appear grateful. ‘Thank you,’ she managed, turning to face him. ‘For the use of the shirts, too. That was very kind of you. I’ll make sure they’re washed and returned obviously, as soon as I …’ realising she hadn’t got a washing machine, hadn’t got anything, Andrea swallowed back another hard knot of emotion and glanced down.

  ‘No problem,’ he assured her. ‘Help yourself to anything you need. And as for the washing, don’t worry. I think I’ve finally figured out how to sort the whites from the coloureds.’

  He wasn’t being flippant. He was trying to reassure her, that was all, but the concern in his voice … Andrea wasn’t sure kindness from this near stranger wouldn’t release the stop valve and cause the tears she was trying so hard to hold back to spill over.

  ‘How are they doing?’ he asked after a moment, clearly not sure what else to say.

  ‘Reasonably,’ she answered shakily, attempting to be civil after all that he’d done. ‘Sophie’s tucked herself in with Chloe. To comfort her, in case she has nightmares, she said, but to be honest, I think it’s Sophie who needs the comforting. Mum’s worrying. She thinks we all think …’Andrea trailed off, her tummy physically clenching as she imagined the abject terror they must all have felt. ‘I shouldn’t have left them.’ It came out barely a whisper.

  ‘You couldn’t have known.’ David took a step towards her. ‘It was an—’

  ‘I shouldn’t have left them!’ She screamed it this time.

  ‘Miss Kel … Andrea.’ David moved closer, his expression a mixture of sympathy and apprehension. ‘Blaming yourself isn’t going to help. You can’t keep them safe twenty-four hours—’

  ‘I can!’ Andrea took a step back, physically deflecting sympathy she didn’t deserve. ‘It’s my job! It’s what parents are supposed to do. Make sure they’re safe, never scared or lonely or hurting.’

  She fixed him with an angry, almost accusing glare and David glanced down.

  ‘Oh God,’ Andrea choked back a sob. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve no right to be shouting at you. Absolutely none.’

  ‘Shout away, if it helps.’ David shrugged, and then moved again towards her. ‘They’re safe, that’s the thing to focus on,’ he said quietly. ‘Try to ground yourself on that, for now.’

  He was right. Of course he was. Closing her eyes, Andrea tried very hard to concentrate on what mattered above all else. ‘Where’s Ryan?’ she asked, looking back at him.

  ‘In Jake’s room.’ He smiled encouragingly. ‘I’m not sure who’s looking after who. I left him showing Jake how to use his new PlayStation 4. Ryan’s putting a brave face on things, I suspect, but he seems okay. I’ll keep my eye on him.’

  Relieved, Andrea nodded. The man was a doctor. He would do that instinctively, she guessed, and was grateful for that one small mercy. ‘How did it …? The fire …?’ Needing to know, she started haltingly, and then stopped, as an involuntary shudder shook through her.

  Obviously wary of invading her space, David hesitated and then tentatively reached to wrap an arm around her shoulders. ‘They’re not sure yet. It started in the kitchen, apparently. It might possibly have been a pan left on. Everyone was upstairs, according to your son. Your mother was doing her hair. Sophie had come in in a ‘strop’, it seems, and gone straight up to her room. Ryan had his earphones on, playing on his Xbox, he said, so he didn’t hear anything, but as soon as he smelled smoke, he raised the alarm and then helped everyone get out. He’s a good kid, Andrea. They all are. Hold on to that. I know it probably doesn’t help much right now, but it could have been a hell of a lot worse.’

  Painfully aware of how much worse, Andrea swallowed again. ‘Did you …?’ She glanced questioningly at him. She hadn’t noticed at first, but his smoke-blackened appearance indicated that he’d done more than stand outside watching her house burn.

  David nodded, reluctantly, Andrea noted. ‘With Ryan’s help, yes,’ he said. ‘They were all out by the time the fire crews arrived.’

  Not quite all. Andrea’s heart sank. ‘Dougal? Is he …? Our dog. A terrier. He’s tiny. Did he …?’

  David scanned her face. ‘There’s a chance he could have got out,’ he offered. ‘Run off scared possibly.’ He stopped as a slow tear slid down her cheek, looking deeply apologetic.

  He was trying to be tactful. Offer her a glimmer of hope. There was none though. If Dougal hadn’t got out of the house …

  ‘It’s okay to cry, you know,’ he said softly, squeezing her shoulders. ‘Therapeutic, so they say.’

  Again, Andrea nodded, but wiped her tears away anyway.

  ‘You should try to get some rest,’ David urged her as Andrea glanced again towards the nightmare outside the window. ‘I’ll bring a jug of water and some glasses up. They might be thirsty if they wake in the night,’ he explained.

  From the effects of the smoke, Andrea gleaned he meant, and felt her heart twist all over again.

  Realising Andrea was in the bathroom, David hesitated, and then headed to see Jake.

  David swallowed back a little emotion of his own before going into his son’s room. Jake had been pretty shaken by events too, but if his son wasn’t talking to him, other than the odd sentence, at least he’d been listening in the aftermath of the fire. Doing everything David had instructed him to, helping him to sort out bed linen and towels, and then trying, as best a ten-year-old could, to take Ryan under his wing.

  Jake was definitely one of the good guys. David just wished he could hold the boy’s gaze long enough to communicate to him how much he appreciated him.

  ‘Hey, how’s it going?’ he asked, after knocking on the door, then going on in to find the two boys with eyes glued to the screen and thumbs poised on hand-controls.

  ‘Yeah, good.’ Ryan peeled his gaze away to glance up at him and David could see there was definitely an element of bravado in there. He was still pale and, though his eyes were not as red as they were, they still looked irritated.

  ‘Let me know if you have any shortness of breath, Ryan,’ he asked him, ‘or headache, okay?’ He may not appear to have respiratory problems but he would have been exposed to carbon monoxide. David needed to keep an eye on that. The psychological effects would need keeping an eye on too. Given the circumstances, David doubted the kid was quite so cool and laid-back as he seemed.

  ‘Will do,’ Ryan assured him, his attention back on the screen.

  ‘So what’s the game?’ David followed his gaze, cocking his head to one side as a cross between a Gremlin and ET let out a blood-curdling cackle and thwacked some other reptilian creature with a club.

  ‘Overlord II,’ Ryan supplied.

  ‘And it’s about?’ David asked, unimpressed as another gargoyle chased a doe-eyed seal across the screen growling, ‘Die, sweaty fur ball.’

 
‘Um, Overlords?’ Ryan suggested, giving Jake a parents-are-past-it roll of his eyes. David wasn’t too perturbed by that, though, when he saw Jake’s mouth twitch into something resembling a smile. ‘You have to destroy or dominate your way through a twisted fantasy world with an army of crazed minions at your command.’

  ‘Ah.’ David nodded. ‘Not guaranteed to ensure a trouble-free night’s sleep, then?’

  The two boys looked sheepish in unison, but didn’t look up.

  ‘So, who does it belong to?’ David enquired, knowing Jake was aware he’d have got a definitive no for an answer if he’d asked about purchasing it himself.

  ‘Nathan.’ Jake sighed audibly, casting David a bored glance from under his Bench cap as he did, which was worn back to front to facilitate seeing said destruction and domination, David supposed.

  His cousin, who was older than Jake, and who should have known better than to lend it to him without permission. ‘In which case, you can post it back to Nathan and stick to something more appropriate to your age, please, Jake.’ David attempted to lay down the law, knowing that not to would be tantamount to telling Jake he could do what he liked.

  ‘Yeah, yeah.’ Jake shrugged, which basically meant he’d failed.

  ‘Jake, turn it off, please.’ David tried again, feeling torn, as he did perpetually lately. Did he stick to his guns? Or let Jake get his own way? Always there was the guilt; the fear that when the emotion finally surfaced, he’d be as poorly equipped to deal with it as he was to deal with the cause of it.

  ‘Jake …’ David waited, feeling impotent in the face of Jake’s open disobedience. ‘Come on. It’s way past your bedtime. You’ll be tired tomorrow.’

  Jake shot him a scathing glance. ‘Like you give a stuff how I feel,’ he mumbled.

  David tugged in a breath. ‘Turn it off, Jake,’ he said, knowing that what he wanted to say – that he did care, very much – might elicit yet more contempt. Rightly so, probably, but now wasn’t the time for a showdown, not with so many people here and emotions so fraught.

  Counting silently to five, David waited, and then, when Jake didn’t budge, he dragged a hand over his neck, debated, and walked to the window, feeling utterly defeated. Jake and he needed to talk, somehow, sometime soon, but it would have to be on Jake’s terms, David knew that. It was Jake who needed to vent his anger, let go of his frustration. He wouldn’t do that if David started in on him because of his own frustrations.

  Stifling a sigh, he peeled back a curtain to check out proceedings opposite, noting that the fire was under control, which was good. And that the house looked pretty much uninhabitable, which most definitely wasn’t. Selfish it might be, but with Jake apparently determined to see how far he could push him, David really did not need a refugee family in situ for long.

  ‘It’s half past midnight, Jake. People are tired.’ He glanced back over his shoulder to meet Ryan’s curious gaze, who was no doubt wondering how it was that a ten-year-old seemed to be getting away with outright insolence.

  David offered him an apologetic shrug.

  In response to which, Ryan parked his control to one side and stretched. ‘I got The Simpsons game,’ he addressed Jake, through a demonstrative yawn.

  ‘Yeah?’ Jake glanced languidly, but interestedly, sideways.

  ‘Uh-huh. The graphics are nothing special, but it’s pretty fun—’ Ryan stopped, and blinked ‘—um, crispy,’ he went on with a flat smile. ‘Like toast.’

  ‘Damn.’ Jake shook his head, commiserating the loss of software in a world where gaming cred was all.

  David ran a hand over his chin to hide a smile. ‘How about you and Jake go into town and get a new one tomorrow after school?’ he offered, glad that Ryan had picked up on the vibes and was obviously trying to bring the computer session to a discreet close.

  ‘Cool. We could see what else they’ve got, while we’re at it.’ Ryan glanced questioningly at Jake as he got to his feet.

  ‘Ye-ah,’ Jake said, boyish enthusiasm bubbling to the surface for the first time in a long time, to David’s relief. ‘Nothing better to do,’ he added, working now to make his tone more chilled adolescent than excited little kid.

  ‘Awesome,’ Ryan said, with another leisurely stretch, which had David quietly smiling again. The kid’s jeans were hanging onto his hips for grim death. ‘Right, time for bed, mate,’ Ryan went on, through another yawn. ‘Need to brush the pearlies, then get some zeds in. Things been a bit weird lately, y’know?’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Jake empathised as Ryan sauntered manfully towards the door, giving David a conspiratorial nod as he went.

  Taking Ryan’s cue, David grabbed his chance. ‘Time you got some zeds in as well, Jake,’ he suggested.

  Jake’s expression went swiftly back to unimpressed. ‘Yeah, right,’ he muttered, shuffling reluctantly to his feet. Still, he had actually moved something other than his thumbs.

  David hesitated for a second to make sure his son was actually heading for his pyjamas, then, ‘Night, Jake,’ he said, hopefully. ‘See you in the morning.’

  Guessing Jake wouldn’t answer, David left him to it. Tomorrow was another day, he told himself. He’d try harder. There had to be a way to reach out to Jake. Though other than PlayStation bribery, David wasn’t sure he knew of one.

  Noting Ryan heading for the bathroom, he decided to tactfully check up on him. The kid might be acting as if he was okay, but David suspected it was just that, an act. Ryan was trying to be macho for his mum, as well as his credibility’s sake. Come to think of it, where was the husband in all of this? Not here obviously. David pondered briefly. Working maybe? Not his business, he told himself.

  ‘Sorry about your dog, Ryan,’ he offered sympathetically. ‘I tried, but …’

  ‘I know. I saw,’ Ryan said, through a sharp intake of breath. ‘Thanks.’ His eyes flickered to David’s and David read what was there. I appreciate it, but subject closed, the kid’s expression said. Trying to be the man of the family in lieu of the actual man, Ryan was working hard at keeping the emotions in check. David got it.

  ‘Do you need anything?’ he asked diplomatically. ‘Something to sleep in, maybe?’

  ‘Nah, it’s cool,’ Ryan assured him, turning at the door. ‘Prefer not to be restricted in bed, you know.’

  ‘Right.’ David nodded, trying to keep his face straight. ‘I’ll leave some boxers on the stair rail anyhow, just in case.’

  ‘I could probably use a shave though.’ Ryan dragged a hand under his chin.

  Which was adorned with nothing but a few nicks, presumably from a recent “I shave, therefore I am a man”, endeavour. David’s mouth twitched into a smile. ‘Left-hand side of the cabinet. Spare blades are in there, too.’

  ‘Minty,’ Ryan said, another slant on cool, David gathered. ‘I take it you two have issues,’ he added, nodding towards Jake’s room.

  ‘Er, yes,’ David admitted. ‘Some.’

  ‘Most families do.’ Ryan nodded maturely. ‘Word of advice though, if I may?’

  David glanced at the gangly teenager, turned father confessor and dispenser of advice, bemused. ‘You may.’

  ‘Go easy on the parentals.’

  The …? ‘Er, right. I’ll try.’ David glanced at the closed bathroom door as Ryan whistled on in.

  ‘Parental rules,’ Ryan informed him from inside.

  Andrea lay listlessly on the spare mattress David Adams had thoughtfully supplied, her energy depleted after a fitful night’s sleep. For hours she’d tossed and turned, listening to night noises, the dawn chorus, early-risers getting up and getting on with their lives, dogs barking. Not Dougal. Dougal didn’t do confrontation. In the midst of excitement, Dougal’s was a lively, spirited little yap. Sensing real danger, though, he’d turn tail, skid through the dog flap and hide behind a handy bush until the coast was clear.

  Poor Dougal. Where was he?

  Her arms wrapped about herself in an attempt to ward off the incessant shaking, Andrea tried
to find the will to get up, go downstairs, get on with her own life.

  What was left of her life.

  She still couldn’t believe it. She’d lost everything. The house she’d lived in since Ryan was born. Loved in, laughed in, cried in. The same house she’d made into a home and which she adored every messy room and dusty nook and cranny of. And now it was gone. She’d watched it burn. Then watched it burn again in her nightmares. Paint bubbling. Barbie dolls melting. Hand-paintings pinned haphazardly to walls turning to ashes.

  The heart of her home, blackened and twisted and torn out. Her funny little gremlin dog, gone.

  Dragging her hands over her face, determined to be strong – her family would need her to be – Andrea heaved herself from the mattress and pulled herself to her feet. David Adams had been right. The horrendous truth was she could have lost her family.

  She choked back a fresh sob as she looked down at Chloe sleeping, a stubby thumb in her mouth, her other hand caught in a soft ringlet of curls at her cheek. At Sophie, lying on her back, one arm thrown over her head, squashing her new scary hairdo. Emo anime, apparently, inspired by futuristic Japanese games, Ryan had informed Andrea when Sophie had slouched in from ‘shopping’ last week, her blonde hair dyed black and purple and topped with a spiked crown.

  Andrea had nearly had an apoplexy then. It didn’t seem to matter now.

  Purple, pink or rainbow coloured, her daughter was still beautiful.

  She glanced at Dee at the foot of the bed, who’d tucked herself in, the only one properly attired in her winceyette nightie, but who had steadfastly refused to part with her teeth. That didn’t seem to matter much either.

  All they had to their names were the clothes they stood up in. Small wonder her mum had wanted to hang on to her teeth then, without even her handbag to put them in. Andrea knew she should be grateful they were all here, safe and together, but … It was just so bloody awful. She gulped back hard, shuddering at another stark recollection of hungry flames devouring her home.