Page 94 of Open Water

The lady has asked, “How old?” and he has replied with eight. Robin is eight. Acht. He nods approvingly at the lady who looks at him like he is expected to tell her more. Explain. He can’t.

It’s too complicated and raw and emotional to explain to a stranger who hasn’t seen them live through the last couple of years. She won’t understand the raw grief on Matteo’s face when they finally found the right place. The strangled cry of seeing the names etched on the plain gravestone. It’s a beautiful place, next to a clearing in the woodland, surrounded by other stones and trees swaying gently in the breeze.

Eleonora and Eduardo Adler. Not even a date, just their names.

Max has walked off, clearly needing a moment to get himself under control. He’s good at dealing with the anxious part of himself these days, keeping his emotions in check and calming himself down with some well-practiced methods. But right now, Tom could do with getting him back here, so he can deal with this lady. Because Lukas is no help at all standing there with Christian fast asleep in the baby sling, laughing softly at Tom’s awkward discomfort.

“Die Mutter…” Tom starts. He knows that is ‘The Mother’, but he hasn’t got a clue how to say ’Father’, or ‘Parents’, because his knowledge of German is simply the tiny snippets his brain seems to remember from school. So instead he blurts out, “Ist da.” Whilst pointing to the headstone where Matteo is still sat on the ground rocking Ellie gently in his arms.

Matteo needs this. He needs to sit there alone so he can talk and spill out the words that have been crushing him for years and introduce his family. One by one. They had left him in peace with Ellie, so he can have this. A moment of peace. Back where he has always belonged, next to his parents.

“Um Himmels Willen, diese armen Kinder! So ganz ohne Mutter!”The lady lets her hands hurl abuse at the sky, then tearfully reaches out to grab Tova’s shocked face, giving her a little pat on her cheek.

Tom would laugh if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s not funny at all. Well, apart from Tova doing a damn fine job of not being rude and obnoxious and kind of trying to smile. She’s trying. And thank God for Max who deals with the lady like a pro, not even trying to correct her distraught ramblings of the Father with all the children whose Mother had left them too soon, and how she was in Heaven watching her little angels from above. Max just nods and gives her a polite kiss on the cheek, rattling away in his near perfect German. And Tom is proud. He is so immensely proud of his son. He is proud of them all, because he has quite a few sons now. And a daughter.

“Dad, can we leave now? I’m bored.”

“Shut it, Robin.”

“Why is there no ice cream shop here? There should be an ice cream place. And a café. I want cake. Like those twirl things we had for breakfast.”

“They’re not cake, they’re pretzels, you idiot.”

* * *

That’s Tova. Child from hell. Well, she’s seventeen, a teenager and she’s pouty and grumpy and rolls her eyes better than Max ever did, but Lukas just smiles and thinks,fuck me. She’s my kid and I think I love her. Despite her being the most obnoxious of girls.

She had arrived on a dark winter’s night aged thirteen, covered in makeup, highly strung and with an attitude that made Tom cry. She also lied constantly, stole anything not nailed down, and told her Social Worker that Max was her boyfriend.

Poor Max dealt with that shitstorm surprisingly well. Lukas remembers being irrationally proud of him. How Max repeatedly sat Tova down and talked to her. Reasoned with her fucked-up ideas of life, and told her she was his baby sister and she should pack it in with the attitude.

She gave him a black eye, right there on the kitchen floor and he just sighed and told her she was being stupid. That the only thing he was there to do was to teach her how to be a good sibling. Because she didn’t understand how to love herself, let alone the kid who was apparently her biological younger brother who arrived on their doorstep two weeks later. Tova and Robin.

Right now, Lukas can’t even remember a time when they weren’t his kids. When he wasn’t a father and someone important. Important enough that people relied on him. Loved him even.

Robin had some serious attachment issues, scaring everyone to tears by just walking off if you didn’t stop him. He picked the bolt on the front door. Climbed out of windows. Disappeared with not a care in the world how he would survive. It had been draining on them to the point of many late-night arguments, where Lukas, to be honest, had been ready to throw in the towel and make the dreaded phone call to Social Services to admit defeat. They had been prepared for hard work, fostering older kids.

Matteo had warned them, talked them through the little tricks and mind games and attitudes. Nothing prepared them for Tova.Nothing. Then, they agreed to take Robin too, hoping the bond between siblings would help settle her. It had been awful. More than awful.

He doesn’t remember when things changed for the better, but they did. Tova and Max somehow came to a truce and started to talk. Properly. Max and Matteo took her out for ‘sibling dates’. Tova apologised for smashing up Max’s bookcase. Things smoothed out and Lukas held his breath for months, just waiting for the next disaster. It never came.

Well, apart from that Robin became obsessed with Tom and wouldn’t leave his side, crying like a bloodthirsty zombie when they tried to enroll him in the local school, kicking and scratching until he would exhaust himself into a blubbering mess.

It has taken a while, but they have his issues under control now, apart from that he sleeps on Tom’s chest most nights, which is a small price to pay for a well-rested child and a peaceful night’s sleep now that Tom has cut down on the nightshifts and they have Max and Matteo helping out again. They have moved back home, making the house a totally overcrowded shithole of a dump, full of shoes and clothes and stuff everywhere, but Lukas wouldn’t have it any other way. If someone had asked him years ago about having a family he would probably have said, well, maybe one well-behaved child and a dog. Not a menagerie of kids that make his life hell. Total hell.

He loves it. He really does.

Not that they get to have much sex anymore, apart from the odd Saturday morning when Max or Matteo will creep upstairs and silently remove Christian from his cot, bribing Robin with pancakes and TV downstairs if he will just let the Daddies sleep in. Well, there is rarely much sleep after that, just inhibited unhinged shagging until they are both sweaty and sore. Smiling smugly for the rest of the day as the kids just roll their eyes.

Matteo never became a Social Worker. Instead, he somehow landed himself a role in a German TV Soap, where “Theodore”, his character, became so popular that his four-week contract became a year, until “Theodore” got done for murder and thrown in jail. Matteo has been back to resurrect Theodore annually, breaking out of jail and robbing a bank. He’s a dangerous kid and Matteo is now some kind of teen superstar in Central Europe. Not that he felt like it whilst living in a small rented basement in a house outside Frankfurt.

Max had gone with him from the start. Matteo wouldn’t accept the contract until it was all set in stone that Max would come too. So, Matteo had worked, and Max had studied German, become involved with a local drama group and somehow had a year full to the brim of firsts.

First year free of a major anxiety episode. First year he managed to go more than a week between panic attacks. First year living away from home. The first year of online University courses, where he completed his work on time and made a good start on his degree. He kept up his therapy, took his meds, ate well and was loved, and somehow, that had been enough. It had been more than enough.

Max Andersson now works for Stockholm City Council as a Foster Care Advisor, coupled with the youth theatre group for children in care that Matteo runs in between acting jobs. He’s done well. He’s done more than well.

It had been Max’s idea, and Lukas can’t help but hug his baby son snuggled up against his chest as he remembers the conversations. Max’s brilliant plan. Matteo smiling. Lukas nodding. Tom bursting into tears.

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