Page 74 of Before You Say Goodbye

“I’m going to name my kids weird stuff when I have them,” Bluebell said. “Like Astro. Or River.”

“We wouldn’t expect anything less,” Ben said.

“I’m giving my kids totally normal names,” Maddie said. “Weird names give bullies ammunition. You say you enjoyhaving an unusual name, Marley, but I think that’s partly because you’re so confident. Nobody ever bullied you, not really. If they had, and they’d been able to use your name to do it, you wouldn’t be so grateful.”

“I think we are going to need to agree on this, guys,” Pip said. “We can’t have half the family with weird names and the other half with normal ones.”

“Imagine . . .” Marley laughed. “Astro, meet your new cousin, Keith.”

Autumn tried to catch his eye, desperate to protect Bowie from flippant discussions about a hypothetical future he wouldn’t witness, but he was laughing too hard to take any notice of anyone.

“I’m going to name my kid after Dad anyway,” Marley continued. “If I ever have a son.”

“Bless you, that’s lovely, Marley,” Emma said, scratching his head affectionately.

Autumn caught Bowie watching her. He smiled sadly.

Bowie had come to the realisation that he would never be a father or an uncle one evening when they’d been in bed together. It had been immensely painful for him even to admit it to himself. She shook her head, disappointed with their group insensitivity, but they didn’t notice. Stoned or not, she couldn’t believe how unfeeling they were being. It was only a matter of time before they realised how hurtful their idle chatter was. To stop them now would make things worse. She hoped her silence might alert them to their tactlessness. It did. In time, they each fell into a sheepish and mournful silence. Bluebell and Maddie covered their mouths with their hands. Emma hid her face in Bowie’s chest.

“I can’t believe we just did that, Bowie.” Maddie shook her head gloomily. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s OK,” Bowie said sorrowfully. Marley took his hand. They laced their fingers together. Bowie stared up at the ceiling. Autumn knew that he was blinking back tears. “Don’t feel like you have to stop. I’m enjoying imagining it, to be honest.”

“Oh, Bowie.” Emma started sobbing. He turned to look at his mother, wiping her tears away with his fingertips.

“Please stop,” he whispered, addressing them all. He let his tears begin to fall. “It sounds like it’s going to be a lot of fun around here and that’s all I’ve ever wanted for all of you. Live every minute of it for me and stop worrying about it. Please.”

* * *

They stayed with him until he fell asleep. When they had all gone to bed, Autumn lay beside Bowie, studying his profile. She wanted to wake him and ask him if he was OK with her now, but he looked more peaceful than she had ever seen him. She listened to the sound of his breathing, then spread her fingers across his chest to feel the thudding of his heart. Eventually, restless and uncomfortable, she got up again. She knew she’d find Marley in the living room. He was sprawled across the sofa with a bottle of wine in his hand. He threw her a weak smile and made a move to sit up.

“It’s OK,” Autumn said. “I’ll sit over here.”

“Don’t be stupid.” He patted the cushion beside him. She sat herself down and he passed her the bottle of wine. She took a swig, spilling some of it clumsily across her chest and down her dress. He gestured for her to keep it when she tried to hand it back.

“Thanks,” she said, tucking her legs under her. He was watching a music channel. She hadn’t done that since she was a teenager. There was a pile of discarded beer bottles beside the sofa. “Having fun?”

“I’m having a great time,” he said. “It’s hard work sharing a room with your little brother. It’s nice to have some time to myself.”

“Want me to leave?” she asked.

“No, I didn’t mean that,” he said. “I’m just explaining why I’m out here drinking by myself.”

“I don’t think you need to explain that to me.” She sighed. He turned to face her.

“Can we try something new? Can we not talk about Bowie and everything that’s going on, please? Can we just be two friends on a sofa for once?”

She nodded and smiled. “Yeah, OK, let’s try it.”

“Good. More weed?” He produced a joint from the pocket of his pyjamas.

“In here?” she asked. Emma had been absolutely adamant that they were only to smoke it in Bowie’s room.

“Mum will never know.” He shrugged. “She might smell it, I suppose. We’ll just say sorry afterwards.”

“I think we should go out in the garden,” she said, shaking her head. Autumn only ever defied Emma when flanked by a contingent of her unruly sons and daughters.

“Spoilsport,” he said, but stood up and pulled her to her feet. He swayed a little and she suspected he’d indulged in at least one more joint on his own before she’d come in. They stood huddled together on the porch steps. It was freezing in the garden at this time of night, but going back inside for shoes and coats would be too much effort. She smoked quickly, shivering.

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