from school. There’s hardly been a day without rain in the last few weeks, and I feel grateful for the warmth of the sun on my face. I think of Nick, how he will never get to feel the sun again. When he died I couldn’t find any joy in anything. I hardly went out, hardly saw my friends. All I could think about was how unfair it was that he wasn’t there to enjoy life with me. I left the area in the end, found a teaching job far away, at the school where Genevieve was the head, tried to start my life again.
I smile at Charlie when I see him across the playground. He comes straight to me. I notice he isn’t with his friends today and wonder if that’s connected to the bruises. I’ve spoken to his teacher and asked her if he’s being bullied, and she said she’d keep an eye out.
‘How was school today?’ I ask.
‘Fine.’ He doesn’t speak another word to me on the way home, despite lots of fruitless attempts to get something out of him about what he’s done today. I’m sure something’s wrong.
We haven’t been home long when Richard arrives. Charlie runs straight into his arms as soon as the door opens. I feel my heart breaking. He misses his father so much. And despite myself, I miss him too. He’s treated me so appallingly, but I can’t seem to just switch off my love for him, as much as I want to.
‘I’ll leave you two to catch up,’ I say, forcing myself to break away. Richard is here to help out with Charlie while I do some admin and see Danielle for her therapy session. I give Charlie a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘There’s some pasta in the cupboard and vegetables in the fridge for his tea,’ I say to Richard.
Upstairs, I shut the door of my therapy room and light the candle. I stare at its gentle flame, trying to calm myself as the soothing lavender scent fills the room. I feel on edge. There was a time when I was afraid of candles, of their potential for destruction. But Richard helped me overcome my fear. I swallow back my emotions, trying not to think how much I miss him. I hate sleeping alone at night, the house silent without the comforting sound of his breathing. I miss the warmth of his body next to mine, the feel of his arms around me, listening to me when I’m feeling down, relieving my anxiety and calming my fears. Nick was the same. He knew exactly the right thing to say to make me feel better. I thought that perhaps I’d got over him when I met Richard, but the truth is I never really have.
My thoughts turn to Danielle. I remember her rushing off after the last session, after she found Charlie outside and he was nearly hit by the car. I’ve wanted to email her all week to explain that I don’t know how Charlie got out of the house, to tell her it’s never happened before. But I’ve stopped myself, knowing I was overreacting.
I use this time to catch up on admin, updating my website to show my increased availability in the evenings and submitting an advert for my services to the school newsletter. If I can just find enough new clients, I think I should be able to pay the mortgage and then Richard should let me stay in the house a bit longer. I rack my brains for other places to advertise. I could get Richard to put up an advert at the university. He teaches counselling there when he’s not seeing his own clients. It was where we met. I google the university and browse through the website to see if there’s a section for advertising online. I’m on a page dedicated to the administrative side of the university when I see the photo. It’s of the outside of the main teaching block. The university building is glass-covered, generic-looking, hardly distinguishable from so many other buildings in London. The picture shows students talking outside happily, holding textbooks in their arms. But it’s what’s behind them that interests me. The water fountain. It’s placement against the building. I recognise it.
I can hear Richard laughing with Charlie downstairs. I go to the bedroom and pull out the photos of Richard and his lover from the bedside table and take them back to the therapy room. I