is saying all of the responsible things that are going through his mind, but I can tell by the pull of his lips that he’s as excited as I am.
‘I know . . . but Lapland, Ed. And Dr Popescu said doing something I always wanted to do with Kerry is a good way to say goodbye and celebrate her life at the same time.’
‘Is he also going to pay for it?’ Ed grumbles.
I ignore him. ‘You’ve only got a few years of the kids being this age, where they can really experience Christmas as it should be. It’s on my credit card, not yours, and look at the price! It’s a cancellation.’
‘It doesn’t make a difference whose card it’s on. It’s our debt.’
‘Don’t be a spoilsport, I might get hit by a bus before the bill even comes! We can pay it off when the kids are older.’ I dismiss his look of shock with a wave of my hand.
Kerry is licking her finger and flicking through the brochure. ‘Oh man, you get to go on a husky ride!’
‘Look!’ I reach for the brochure, taking it from her dead fingers. ‘We get to go on a husky ride!’
‘But . . .’
I know I’m bringing Ed round: he’s forcing his forehead into a frown, but I can see the laughter lines around his eyes. He turns the page; the lines crack their knuckles, ready to break free as he sees the picture of a little girl who resembles Hailey, in so far as she’s a girl and is wearing glasses. I may be stretching the resemblance part a little. The laughter lines relax; here we go. The page turns and there is a full two-page spread of the log cabin, the family of four, the presents beneath the tree. Ed has always been a sucker for Christmas.
‘OK.’ The laughter lines are released, a full-on massacre across his frown lines.
‘Woohooo!’ I jump up, pull his hands and make him join in the victory dance.
He glances up at the clock. ‘Shit, I’m late. I’ve got to get to work if I’m going to pay for this!’ He grabs his coat.
‘Oh, I forgot to check you’re OK picking up the kids tomorrow? I’ve got an appointment with Dr Popescu at three.’
My regular therapy sessions are really helping me; it’s good to be able to talk openly. Ed offered to come to the sessions too, but I enjoy the freedom they give me, and there is still the matter of the little white lie that I told him when I stopped the medication. I can be honest-ish with Ed about that now – he knows that my prescription has ‘changed’ to the antidepressants – but I’d really rather not open up the whole can of worms, not yet. Besides, I get the impression Ed doesn’t really like Dr Popescu – I can’t imagine why.
‘Yep! Got an alarm set on my calendar!’ He gives me a hasty kiss. ‘Just promise me you’re not going to have an affair with him!’
‘Promise.’
And off he goes, marching out of the house whistling ‘Jingle Bells’.
I love my husband so much sometimes it hurts.
Look at how happy he is!
I resist the urge to wink at Kerry as Nessa knocks at the door.
Are you ready?
‘I’m not here, dummy, I could go to the cinema with you both butt-naked and nobody would know. In fact . . .’ She begins taking off her shoes.
Don’t you dare! I said I would go to a scary film with you because you’re about to kick the bucket, I did NOT agree to going with you in your birthday suit.
‘Spoilsport.’
I laugh.
‘Hey, you ready?’ Nessa asks.
‘Come in, yeah . . . just let me grab my coat.’
‘Are you’re sure you want to do this? You do remember that you almost didn’t watch Game of Thrones because you were scared of the White Walkers, right?’
‘I know but, well, YOLO and all that.’
‘YOLO?’
‘Yeah, you only—’
‘I know what it means but you’ve never really been a . . .’ she finger-quotes, ‘“YOLO” type of woman.’
‘Well it’s time to change that.’
‘OK, then these are the rules.’ She begins ticking them off her fingers. ‘One: no looking away from the screen. Two: no hiding behind your popcorn. And three: no going to the loo when you think something scary is going to come on.’
‘Can I hold your hand?’ I ask as I throw my phone into my bag.
‘You can, but no getting fresh.’ She grins as her phone pings, hailing a message.