Page 89 of Textbook Romance

I laugh, returning to my cake. ‘I meant other questions that perhaps you can’t research in a textbook? I had my kids many moons ago, though. Perhaps Beth is a better resource these days on parenthood.’

‘I’m petrified, Zoe,’ he says, spurting out his words bluntly.

‘Why?’ I say, smiling.

‘Because I love Mia so much. I’m a worrier. I want her to be OK. I want the baby to be OK. I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this. I’ve not been around a lot of kids. I’ve only had cats.’

I smirk a little. ‘Ed. You’re around at least a thousand kids every day.’

‘But they’re big kids. This is something small that I’ll have to grow myself.’

I love how he makes the baby sound like a houseplant, though am slightly saddened how that makes me think of Jack. Jack and his plants, eh? I take Ed’s hand and wrap it in mine. ‘Ed, you’ve said it yourself, you love Mia completely. You already care for that baby even though it’s the size of a baked bean. You worry because that’s a manifestation of all your love, all your care. I can’t think of two people who are in safer hands.’

He takes a deep breath, some visible emotion welling up in him. He tries to keep it from showing by stuffing his mouth full of cake.

‘You’re going to have to make Mia so much cake. I hope you’re ready,’ I joke.

‘Cake? I’m thinking ahead to the labour. She’s going to be a nightmare,’ he says plainly, and we both laugh. ‘This is natural, right? To feel like this?’

I nod, smiling. ‘I’d be worried if you weren’t.’

‘Well, I’m glad I told you. You felt like the right person to tell.’

‘You’ve not told anyone else?’ For some reason, I think of Jack in this first instance.

‘You’re kind. You’d know how to turn that worry around. Just keep it to yourself. If Mia knows that you know then she’ll kill me.’

‘She wouldn’t.’

‘But she would.’

I smile and take another mouthful of cake, the hit of coconut suddenly making me realise something. ‘Ed, is this the cake you made for your wedding?’

He nods. ‘I can’t lie, I thought I’d make it for you to cheer you up.’

‘To get me through these January blues, eh?’ I say, smiling. He’s a thoughtful being like that and his brilliant news and this cake will help, for sure.

‘Well, that, but also because of what’s happening today. You know, right?’

‘Know what?’

Ed’s face looks sad that I wouldn’t have known. ‘Jack. He’s leaving today. He flies out to Borneo tonight.’

I get home early that afternoon, from school gate straight to front door. Naturally, all the teachers wanted to celebrate first days back with a drink in the pub, but I worried it would remind me too much of Jack. Jack is leaving. I always knew this. Mia told me this before Christmas but ever since Ed told me that today was the day in the staff room, the news has fractured my heart a little. He will soon be over on the other side of the world, there will be huge amounts of land and sea between us. Not a chance to bump into him in the supermarket or through Mia and Ed. Just him jetting off on new adventures, meeting new people whilst I stay here. Landlocked. I do want this for him, though, I always will.

‘Hello!’ I shout into the hallway as I open the front door. So much has changed in the last month. Brian and I sat down with solicitors and this house now belongs to me. We won’t sell it, but he’ll buy his own place. We’re still chatting about custody and slowly rethreading our lives. Every day, we move into something more civil, coming round to our new sense of normal. I don’t think it will ever be a final destination, it’ll always be a journey. I don’t think Lottie helped by wrapping up a potato and giving it to her dad for Christmas but the initial wounds from our break-up are healing. The air sits cold and stale in the house and I see a school bag at the bottom of the stairs, a pair of shoes kicked off that sit in the middle of the floor. Well, Dylan made it home at least.

‘Dylan?’ I shout.

I hear a door creak open. ‘MUM! SOMETHING CAME FOR YOU ! I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT!’

I mean, he could come downstairs and tell me that to my face. I don’t shout back. I kick his shoes to a corner so no one will trip over them, grappling with my school bags and winter coat. When I get to the kitchen, I put everything down, turning on the lights and the kettle. No doubt, if Dylan didn’t know what to do with it, it’s most likely something that needs laundering or a letter from school that needs my attention. I open the door to the utility cupboard. Nothing. I take a mug out of the cupboard to make myself a cup of tea, have a look in the fridge and walk around our downstairs space. It’s then I see it. It’s a plant, a small tree sitting by the fireplace. It’s wrapped impeccably in brown paper and string with a card sitting on its branches. I stare at it for a few moments. I know who it’s from so much so that I’m almost too scared to approach it. I walk over, bending down to carry it and put it on the coffee table. You needed to just leave so my heart could let you go, so I could know I’d done the right thing. The right thing was to let you go. My fingers run along the envelope before tearing it open to find a plain white postcard.

Zoe,

It’s believed silver birch trees symbolise new beginnings, rebirth. In harsh conditions and when forests have been damaged, they grow these trees to renew the earth, to offer resilience and protection. I hope it’ll offer you shade, protection and be a thing of beauty for years to come. It will no doubt flourish and grow because it has you.

Love, always - Jack x

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