Page 72 of All Mine
‘He’s not. They’ve asked him to stay for the dinner later, to meet some of the other investors. I said I’d stay over. I didn’t tell him about George or he’d have worried and he needs to be focused on his meeting. It’s a big deal.’
He looked around the debris of the kitchen and exhaled apprehensively. George lifted his head for the first time and yawned loudly.
‘I could do with some help getting them into bed,’ Etienne said with a hopeful look at Isabella. ‘I did try Walker but he’s on shift. I think this little guy will feel better with a good sleep,’ he said with a downward nod at George. ‘And then I can set about clearing up.’
Isabella nodded.
‘I have no experience of children at all, but hey,’ she said optimistically, ‘how hard can this be?’
An hour later– after George had thrown up again twice (once down Etienne’s shirt), Reggie had demanded four bedtime stories, the dog had eaten the leftover dinner from the plates on the table and Etienne had trodden barefoot on some Lego which resulted in some language that was definitely not child-friendly − they had two boys in bed. George sucked steadfastly on his thumb and his eyelids drooped. Reggie screwed his eyes shut and counted sheep out loud.
They reconvened at the kitchen table, Etienne now wearing one of Fox’s checked shirts and limping. Isabella was dazed.
‘Are we allowed alcohol now?’ Isabella asked. Etienne stumbled to the fridge and held up a beer. She nodded. They clinked bottles together and slumped back in their seats. Etienne glanced around the kitchen.
‘I’ll sort this out in a minute,’ he said, closing his eyes.
‘How does he do that every day?’ she said.
‘And on his own too,’ Etienne agreed. ‘He’s a superman.’
‘What happened to his wife?’ Isabella asked. ‘It never seemed right to ask.’
Etienne opened one eye and pointed at a photo on the edge of the corkboard that Isabella hadn’t noticed before. She stood to examine it, the profile shot of lips pressed to Fox’s cheek. The happy crinkle of her eyes as she kissed.
‘That’s Meg,’ he said. ‘She drove to the local shop for milk one Saturday morning about two weeks after George was born and suffered a brain aneurysm. She drove off the road and hit a tree.’
‘How awful.’ Isabella slumped back into her kitchen chair, her eyes blurring as she tried to focus on the corkboard. All the happy pictures of Fox and his sons. Everything that Meg was missing out on.
‘Walker’s crew were called out. It was him that cut her free of the car but she didn’t make it into the ambulance. Walker told Fox he was as gentle with her as she died as he had been the first time he held her babies.’
Isabella closed her eyes as that hit home. ‘That explains why they are so close.’
‘I met Fox about a week after she’d died. He was a real mess. Not surprisingly.’
‘And you’ve not left him since,’ Isabella said.
‘Never.’
‘Do you think he’ll ever move on?’ Isabella turned to face him.
‘Maybe one day,’ Etienne said. ‘In his own time.’
Isabella’s heart hurt for Fox. Bringing up the boys alone.
‘He’s lucky to have you,’ she said, a break in her voice.
‘I’m the lucky one.’ Etienne swore, his eyes fierce.
The moment lengthened. Her stomach somersaulted as she held the look, thinking about her earlier message. He wet his full lower lip and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing. Even with food in his hair and bags under his eyes, he was still the sexiest man she’d ever met. The house around them was silent. Etienne’s eyebrow raised. Was this it? Part two?
‘Uncle Et. . .’ George stood in the doorway, with dinosaur pyjamas, bare feet and the whitest face she’d ever seen. ‘I don’t feel so good.’
Etienne stood and was halfway across the kitchen when George projectile vomited. Etienne expertly sidestepped its trajectory and swung the boy into his arms. George’s chin wobbled as he started to cry, and Etienne cradled him against his chest.
‘Back soon,’ Etienne said to Isabella before carrying George back up the stairs to clean him up and sort him out. She could hear him talking gently to the boy, and then the sound of the bath running. She couldn’t just sit there, so she found some bleach under the sink and got busy with the mop.
An hour later, the kitchen was sparkling. The front room was tidy and all Lego was back in the box. Dingbat had been fed and was spread out on the hearth, farting. Even the plants had been watered. Still Etienne hadn’t reappeared. She watched half an hour of television, and even then, he didn’t come back down.
