Roses Are Red - Miranda Rijks Page 0,51

got it on audio only. ‘Can you switch over to video so I can see you?’

He lowers his voice. ‘Can’t, love. I’m with Sandra and the nurse is here. Wouldn’t be appropriate.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m home the day after tomorrow. Can I see you?’

‘Of course. What do your children think about us getting married?’

‘I haven’t told them yet,’ I admit.

‘Lydia,’ he says, the disappointment heavy in his voice.

‘I will tell them. When we’re home. I promise.’

‘Got to go now,’ he says.

‘Bye, darling. I love you.’

But he’s already hung up.

Two days later, without really patching up relations with Bea, we’re back home. This morning, Patrick sent me a text message asking whether I’ve told the children about us getting married. I haven’t replied. The truth is, I haven’t plucked up the courage to tell them. We seem to have achieved a sense of equilibrium, and I am so loath to upset it. And Bea’s words ring in my ears. But I do deserve happiness. Cassie and Fiona know me better than Bea these days, and they’re supportive. If I want to marry Patrick, if I want to keep him, I have no choice but to tell Mia and Oliver.

We are having supper and a text pings on my phone. I don’t need to look at it to know that it will be Patrick, so I take a large glug of wine, put down my cutlery and tell them.

‘Patrick has asked me to marry him, and I’ve said yes.’

‘But what about Dad?’ Oliver asks, his lower lip trembling.

‘I will always love Dad, but as I explained to you, we were planning on getting divorced and now… I love Patrick, too. He will never be your dad, but–’

‘He’s going to move in with us, right?’ Mia’s upper lip curls.

‘Yes. And we were thinking it might be sensible to move house and have a fresh start.’

‘But this is Dad’s house!’ Oliver exclaims.

‘And he died here. I don’t know about you, but I find that very difficult.’

‘It’s all about you, isn’t it?’ Mia throws her cutlery onto her plate, pushes back her chair with a screech, and storms out of the room.

‘Mia!’ I say, but she ignores me.

‘I won’t have to call Patrick Dad, will I?’ Oliver asks.

‘Of course not. He will never be your father, but I hope he can become a grown-up friend, a bit like Cassie is to you. And what do you think about moving house?’

‘Okay, I suppose. I don’t like the swimming pool. Do you think Dad will mind if we leave?’

‘Dad will be with you wherever in the world you are. He lives in your heart.’ I stand up and clear my plate away.

‘I think I’d better go and talk to your sister. There’s more bolognaise in the pot if you’d like some. Help yourself.’

‘It’s ok, Mum.’

I climb upstairs and knock on Mia’s closed bedroom door. As I expected, she doesn’t answer. I knock again and open it. To my surprise, there is no resistance. When I switch on the light, it’s obvious why. Mia isn’t there. I retreat back to the hall and check the family bathroom. It’s empty.

‘Mia!’ I shout through the house. ‘I know you’re upset, but let’s talk.’

I go through each room and then downstairs, checking Adam’s office. I even look in the wardrobes and the understairs cupboard. She’s not there. In the utility room, I see that her coat is missing. Perhaps she’s in the garden? I turn on the floodlights and take a torch.

‘Ollie, I’m going outside to look for Mia.’

He has a mouthful and nods at me.

But the back door is locked from the inside. I rush to the front door. It’s also locked from the inside. It doesn’t make sense. I walked through the whole house; I checked everywhere. I walk all around the garden, shouting her name. It is dark and cold, and there is a fine drizzle that accentuates the smell of rotting leaves. I shine the torch behind shrubs and even up to the branches of the old oak tree, which Mia used to climb when she was going through her prepubescent tomboy stage.

The final place I look is the little pool hut. I haven’t been in here since Adam died. My heart is thumping as I open the door, terrified as to what I will find.

Nothing. It is empty.

The pool is covered, but it has no water in it. I got the maintenance company to come and drain it, because we won’t be swimming again here.

‘Mia!’ I shout