guest, as had happened once before when poor communication and slow post had meant a girl had turned up for a short-term stay without warning. It didn’t really matter – they would cope, they always did. There was plenty of room and as soon as a nice cuppa and words of kindness had been issued, all would be well. Or it might be a surprise visit from social services, a much less palatable scenario. Kate hung her head at the very thought. Her spirits sank; why today on this most perfect of days? Not that she had anything to hide, far from it. They had an open-door policy, but it would be tedious and time-consuming and she would have liked to have had her paperwork in slightly better order.
Kate entered the kitchen with a cheery ‘Hello!’
And came abruptly to a halt.
The paper fell to the floor as her hand flew to her mouth. Her heart beat so quickly that she felt quite light-headed. Sitting at the table was her son.
Tom deposited a mug of tea on the table to match the one he had already served Dominic and quietly disappeared.
‘Hello.’
‘Oh, my! Oh, Dom!’
Kate walked forward and ran a hand across his back; with the other she cradled his head into her form. Her touch was gentle, tentative, not only because she was unsure of how she would be received, but also because of the very real fear that he might vanish. She had pictured this scenario so many times that she thought it might be a dream. It wasn’t. He was solid to the touch, he was real and he was in her kitchen.
She inhaled his scent, familiar and intoxicating.
‘Oh, Dom, look at you! Look at you! This is wonderful, this is the best moment… I have missed you!’
It felt like the grossest of understatements. Words could not describe what the absence of her kids had meant to her – they were all far too meek, thin and inadequate.
‘You’re squashing me.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, darling.’
Kate took the seat opposite her child.
She surveyed the man sitting in front of her. He was wearing jeans and a thick, white cotton shirt and he really did look wonderful. His muscly forearms were covered in a mat of dark hair. She squinted and superimposed from memory the gangly arms of her boy, covered in paper-thin Spiderman tattoos that had come courtesy of a packet of bubble-gum. She could picture his skinny, freckled limbs poking from beneath a striped T-shirt sleeve that gaped in the absence of biceps or triceps. How long ago was that? Ten years? No, twenty years. My goodness, where had that time gone? She noted that the contours of his teens had now bulged into muscles, the hair had sprouted thicker and darker than she had seen it last and all his sharp angles had been replaced by rounded solidity.
The physical changes were huge, but Kate could also see that he had some time ago vaulted the line between lackadaisical teenager and careworn man of the world. His eyes no longer held a subject in languid fascination; instead his glances were hesitant, furtive. His leg jumped, his heel beat time and his fingers drummed. He was edgy, nervous. He spoke a little too quickly and his humour was biting. He made Kate think of an animal backed into a corner, ready to pounce.
‘I can’t believe you are here, I really can’t. There is so much I want to say, Dominic, but I almost don’t know where to start – which is crackers because I’ve practised every day since I saw you last. I am so happy. How long can you stay?’
Already the fear of him leaving was eating up their precious moments together.
‘I’ve got rooms made up already; we can have a proper catch-up. Are you hungry? How did you get here? Did you drive? Francesca said you had a little runaround. I feel like a kid! I am so excited! How’s Lydi?’
The words burbled from her like water.
‘No, I can’t stay, but thanks. Lydia is great, thank you. Quite the little artist, getting rave reviews for her work and she thoroughly deserves it; she’s very talented.’
Kate hated the way he had thanked her – politely, as if she were a stranger. There was no warmth in his response. The tone in which he talked about his sister was protective, with an underlying sneer that seemed to ask, What has it got to do with you? Kate decided not to tell him