on. Can we not just enjoy the peace and quiet? How often do we just get to relax in the garden without Hailey asking to play a game or Oscar asking for food?’
The ice clatters against the side of the glass as I take a few sips; I feel the cool liquid descending inside my body towards my stomach. I replace the glass neatly into the circle of daisies and roll onto my back. ‘This is why I asked Mum to have the kids . . . so we can talk.’
‘About what? You’ve said your piece about me taking the kids out without telling you, I’ve apologised for that even though I don’t think it’s that big a deal.’
I pull down my sunglasses from my head and close my eyes.
‘The Nash twins’ parents are always taking their kids out of school. The only difference is that I was honest and didn’t lie and tell them the kids were sick. Next time I’ll lie, OK?’
‘It’s not just that.’ He leans up on his elbow and lifts up my sunglasses; his eyes are searching mine, a crease of worry pulling his eyebrows together. ‘Talk to me, Jen.’
Kerry is sitting up on the corner of the rug by my feet; she is pulling down the straps on her top and rubbing sun cream in. I manoeuvre my foot so that it connects with her shin.
I don’t feel anything because she isn’t there.
‘I don’t know what you want me to say,’ I reply to Ed, pulling my sunglasses back onto my nose. ‘I miss her, that’s all,’ I say.
‘I know you do. I miss her too. But—’
I kiss his lips and pull him towards me.
‘Jen—’ he murmurs as I push myself against him. ‘Jen!’ He untangles himself and moves his body back, running his fingers through his hair agitatedly.
I sit up. ‘What?!’
‘You can’t keep doing this.’
‘Doing what? Kiss my husband? Find him attractive?’
‘No! Yes! No.’
‘Well which one is it? Yes or no?’
‘Both. You need to tell me what is going on with you. You’ve changed, you’re like a different person.’
‘Well of course I’m a different person! I watched my sister die in front of me. This time last year, Ed . . . do you know what we were doing? It’s the third of May.’ His eyebrows furrow, the date not ringing a bell with him. ‘This time last year, we went to that festival in the park, the one with all the tribute artists.’ His eyes seem to clear as the memory hits him. ‘Kerry pretended to be pregnant and hid all our booze in her bump under the maternity dress.’ He smiles at the memory, but I don’t.
‘Yeah, that was a fun day . . . what I can remember of it. I fell in some bushes, didn’t I?’
‘You did. Nessa had to pull you out while me and Kerry pushed our way to the front of “Take This” and tried to grab fake fat Gary Barlow’s hand even though we found out after that he was in his fifties and was a plumber.’
‘Good times.’ Ed laughs.
And here is the problem. He can talk about this without ice creeping through his veins, without his breath feeling heavy in his lungs. He doesn’t get it; he doesn’t get what Nessa and I are going through. He is able to remember this and laugh and smile. He hasn’t been glancing at his watch every few minutes and thinking about where he was on that day. I know that right now, as I’m having these thoughts, we were making our way to see Mick Astley, that Kerry’s festival wellies were rubbing the back of the heels that—
‘Oh for fuck’s sake. Can you hear yourself? Get over it already. Seriously, Jen, you’re thinking about my blisters. Can you hear how pathetic that sounds?’
‘I miss her so much, Ed.’ I hide my face further into his T-shirt on the verge of tears, but my tears turn to laughter because I’m remembering that while Mick Astley was never gonna give us up, Kerry had farted and was wafting her hand in front of her face and looking at the woman next to her dressed in a ‘Frankie Says Relax’ T-shirt with disgust, when in fact, it was Kerry who had dealt a silent but violent.
I retell the story to Ed. It feels good to be talking about her.
I sit up on my knees and wipe my face with the back of my hand. ‘Let’s go somewhere, Ed. We’ve