by Tania Carver
‘But… ’
‘No, Phil. No buts. He’d just watched you kill the Gardener. He did the same thing to Glass. It wasn’t a situation where middle-class morality applied.’
Phil said nothing.
‘Finn will recover,’ Marina said, leaning towards him over the arm of the sofa. ‘We’ll make sure he gets the best help he can. We’ll allow him the time to get better. He’s confronted the worst thing in his life and faced it down. Now, with help, he’ll hopefully be able to go on and lead as normal a life as possible.’
‘But what about what happened to him in that room? In the Garden?’
‘Remembered as a bad dream. Hopefully. Like what happened to you.’
Phil took a sip of wine.
‘Like what happened to me,’ he said. Took another sip. ‘Hopefully.’
‘Dinner in about ten minutes,’ said Don now, popping his head round the door.
They all acknowledged his words.
Marina looked across at Phil.
She was getting him back. She was sure of it. Slowly. But he was coming back to her.
It had been difficult. Of course it had. And although she could empathise with him, she couldn’t imagine what he had gone through. But he was accepting things. Moving on. Getting his life back together.
And she was so glad she was still a part of it.
She looked down at Josephina playing with Eileen. The little girl laughed at something Eileen did, then looked at Phil to see his reaction. He laughed too. Marina saw tears in the corners of his eyes. Saw the smile linger on his lips, reluctant to go. Knew how much love that man had in his heart.
Yes.
His arm was healing. She was sure he was healing inside too.
She was getting him back.
*
They sat round the table, food laid out before them. All hungry, all ready to start.
‘Before we dive in,’ said Phil, ‘I just want to say something.’
Silence fell. Don and Eileen risked a look between them.
‘It’s been a funny few weeks, hasn’t it?’ said Phil.
No one spoke.
‘I just wanted to say… ’ he looked at Don and Eileen, ‘thank you. For everything.’
Don started to say something; Phil kept going, talked over the top of him.
‘Sorry, Don, you’ll get your turn in a moment. I’ve thought long and hard about this, and I want to say it while it’s still fresh in my head. What you two did for me… ’ he looked at them again, ‘I can’t thank you enough. I can never thank you enough. You gave me a home. You gave me a childhood. You gave me a future.’
His voice caught. He stopped. No one moved. No one spoke. They waited. Phil continued.
‘You kept some things from me. And yes, I was angry about that. But I’ve been thinking. And… ’ He sighed. Shrugged. ‘What else could you have done? I’m sure I would have done the same if it had been me. And you did it for the best.’
He paused again.
‘And because you did, I’ve got a family. Don, you’ve always said families are more than just biology. And you’re right.’ He looked round the table. ‘I’ve got my family. Right here, Don.’ He looked at him again. ‘Dad.’
Don turned away, eyes wet.
Phil held his glass up.
‘To family.’
They all joined in. Drank. Ate.
Together.
A happy family.
The tightrope holding.
Tania Carver
***
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Document creation date: 24.06.2012
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