wanted any breakfast/lunch/to change his bed/another blanket. I longed to walk out of the bathroom in my bra, not feel embarrassed about my pants hanging on the washing line, spend half an hour on the phone with Faye, my best friend in the village, telling her – and maybe laughing about – all my shortcomings as a guardian without being overheard. I wanted to be able to miss Ginny and allow myself to be really sad without feeling an obligation to Victor to be cheery and upbeat at all times, instead of infecting him with my grief when he already had so much of his own to bear.
And after a summer of snappy exchanges every time we had to accommodate Victor’s needs instead of just thinking about our own, I couldn’t deny that I was looking forward to being able to have a long-overdue row with Patrick without worrying about attracting an audience.
Chapter Three
Two and a half months after Ginny’s funeral, I lay in bed when the alarm went off, feeling nowhere near old enough to face today: the start of term for Phoebe and Victor. I’d counted down the days to establishing a routine that didn’t depend on me as the family master of ceremonies. But now it was here, the task of getting them to school on time without a huge drama – either belligerence from Phoebe or plain broken-hearted reluctance to start afresh from Victor – made me want to stay in bed, eat toast and read my Kindle for the rest of my life.
Seventeen months separated Phoebe and Victor, but they looked years apart. Tall with broad shoulders, Victor was already a man, moving about in the calm, deliberate way that came with adulthood, in contrast to Phoebe’s scattering around the house, charging up the stairs with theatrical urgency to a background of shrieks and giggles emanating from her iPhone. I hoped Victor wouldn’t find her and her friends horrendously immature now he’d be with them all the time. Especially given he was staying down a year after missing so much education while Ginny was ill.
I counted to three and swung my legs out of bed. I went downstairs and made tea for everyone except Phoebe, who would just launch into a diatribe about how I’d forgotten she was ‘intolerant’ of cow’s milk, or maybe this week soya milk irritated her stomach lining, or almond milk didn’t agree with her, followed by an impatient shake of the head. ‘I told you!’
Carrying a mug back upstairs, I knocked lightly on Victor’s door. ‘Tea outside the door.’ I didn’t dare go in. I had no idea whether he slept naked or not. Probably did if he was anything like Ginny when Patrick, Cory and I lived with her. I’d just about lost the habit of putting my dressing gown on before I went into the kitchen after two years sharing a flat with them all, but I never felt comfortable when the boys were eating toast in just their boxers or Ginny was clutching her coffee in a T-shirt that barely covered her knickers.
A deep baritone rumbled back. ‘Thank you.’
‘Would you like scrambled eggs for breakfast?’
‘Yes please.’
‘Come down when you’re ready.’ At least Victor was more grateful than Phoebe for clean clothes and a cooked dinner.
Patrick wandered out in his boxers.
‘Put your dressing gown on,’ I hissed for at least the fiftieth time in ten weeks.
He rolled his eyes. It was all over his face – why should I live any differently?
‘I don’t want Victor to feel any more awkward than he already does. He hasn’t grown up with any blokes in the house.’
Patrick shook his head. ‘Newsflash. Seventeen-year-old boys don’t give a shit what old men wear at the breakfast table.’
But our conversation was cut short by Phoebe bursting onto the landing. ‘Where’s my iPhone charger?’
I’d set myself the goal of being extra kind to her, to remember that if Patrick and I had found adjusting to our new circumstances hard, it wasn’t surprising that we’d had a few outbursts from Phoebe. ‘I don’t want him hanging around me and my friends all the time!’ It was not a goal I always attained.
But this morning I was determined to start off on the right foot. I forced myself to be helpful rather than snap, ‘Where did you put it?’
‘Have you looked in the kitchen, love? Or maybe by the telly? Try not to be late though, because I’ve got to take Victor in and introduce him to