Christmas at the Island Hotel - Jenny Colgan Page 0,65

And as if being away for just a day had made him see them anew, he noticed once again how much they had both filled out. Ib had taken a stretch; he was going to be tall like him. Ash, possibly not. Saif knew infant malnutrition could lead to growth issues. But Ib was looking tall and strong. Amena would never see him look like this, never see him so big.

How could she bear it? How could she not be desperate to see them? Or perhaps she was. But there she was, married to another man. Pregnant. His head told him of course that she might clearly have no choice.

But . . . the smile.

Of course smiles could be forced. Of course.

And then again, what if she truly believed they were dead? What if she had spent two years as wretched as he had? What if she’d known the boys were lost, assumed the worst? What if she had grabbed at any brass ring of happiness, at any morsel?

After all, wasn’t that exactly what he’d done with Lorna?

But he had his children; and if he had not, he wouldn’t have been able to . . .

Well. Would he?

But it wasn’t the same.

Wasn’t it?

He buried his tortured face in the hair of his youngest boy.

“Abba! Abba! There is a spaceship and we must go see it,” Ash said with some urgency. Agot was—madly, in Saif’s opinion—allowed to use her father’ s mobile phone and had apparently woken the entire house, ordering them all down there even though it was 9:30 on a school night and 5 degrees below zero.

Ash was already pulling on his fur-lined boots.

“Off we go to see the spaceship,” he said, in a way that showed he was pretending to be very confident about something happening in the hope that that would help it happen.

“It won’t be a spaceship, stupid,” said Ib, who absolutely had to be contrary, but it was a weak effort on his part; he was obviously as desperate to see it as Ash was, not least so he didn’t miss out on the playground conversation the next day.

Mrs. Laird rolled her eyes. “I think quite a lot of people are going out to see it,” she said.

Saif sighed. On the other hand, what was the alternative? Going to bed to lie for hours and hours absolutely fiercely awake, thinking of Amena every second of the night, letting every possibility, terrible and worse, run through his brain? Explain to the children that their mummy was alive, but she had another family now?

It hurt like a physical pain. He might as well walk it out.

IT WAS FREEZING outside, a windy night with snow bouncing around lazily and more—much more—on the forecast for coming in.

The boys were beside themselves at getting up in nighttime, long past bedtime, as if the normal rules were forgotten. And how exciting too, once they’d gotten jumpers and padded jackets and hats and scarves and socks and Wellingtons on over their pajamas, to leave the house, each with a hand in their father’s—normally Ib didn’t like being seen out and about holding hands with his dad, it absolutely wasn’t cool in primary seven, but he was making an exception for tonight and Saif was deeply and profoundly grateful for it.

Everywhere doors were opening as they walked down the street to the village from the rectory, and excited chattering—and some very disapproving chattering—could be heard here and there. There was loads of noise as overexcited child shouted to overexcited child and more and more joined the parade. Agot came charging up to Ash, and they did their usual bouncing-up-and-down dance they did when they saw each other outside of school—they were truly the best of friends.

“It me!” shouted Agot. “It an angel. Like me!”

Agot was playing the angel in the nativity play. Lorna would like to have said there was no nepotism in it, and in a way that was true. Agot was so unbelievably irritating about how much she wanted to play the angel Gabriel that it was easier just to let her—it wasn’t a big part like Mary—rather than deal with the aggro everyone would put up with if she was denied. On a very deep level Lorna knew this was a bad lesson for Agot to learn, that by being a monstrous pain in the arse she’d get whatever she wanted. On the other hand, Lorna had a full class, a mountain of paperwork, a school to run, an unhappy