Page 58 of Secrets of Starshine
We walk briskly to the car park up the steep hill, and drive back in near silence. I know that he is worried, and concentrating on the road, and probably blaming himself in a million ways for not being there when his daughter needed him. I know that’s exactly what I’d be doing too. He seems lost in his own thoughts, and I don’t know how to reach out to him. When I do speak, trying to be reassuring, he nods and agrees, but I can tell that he won’t rest until he’s seen that she is okay with his own eyes.
By the time we arrive back at the village, I can almost feel the tension rising from his body like steam, and as we get out of the car I put a hand on his chest, slowing him down.
“Take a moment,” I say calmly. “Deep breaths. Don’t go dashing in there in a state; it’ll only make her feel worse.”
For a second, I think he will ignore me and push past, but I see the words soak in, past his fear and his urgency. He nods, and I feel his chest rise and fall a few times as he does what I suggest.
“Okay. Thanks for that,” he says, gently removing my lingering hand, and striding ahead to Connie’s house.
Her place is only a few steps away from his, tucked around a quiet corner. I’ve been here a few times, and it is exactly as you’d expect Connie’s home to be – chaotic, colourful, messy and welcoming, much like Connie herself. There has always been music when I’ve called in, home-cooked treats, occasional kitchen-based dancing sessions. Tonight, though, as we make our way through the unlocked door, there is none of that.
We walk into the living room, and I see Meg curled up on an armchair in her pyjamas, cuddling one of her plushy dinosaurs. She looks tired and upset. Her sister is lying on the sofa with her head on Connie’s lap, with Ella crouched down next to her.
They all look up as we come in, and Meg flies over to her dad, throwing her arms around his legs. He picks her up, gives her a quick cuddle, and places her gently back down on the chair as he walks over to Lilly. Lilly herself looks exactly like a little girl who has fallen out of a tree. She has a graze on the side of her cheek, and a bloodstain beneath her nose. Ella is currently finishing off a dressing on one knee, and the other is scraped as well. Her hair is escaping its plaits, and her face is streaked with dirt and tears.
She glares up at Archie and says: “Wherewereyou, Daddy? I’m all broken!”
He kneels down beside her, reaches out and gently smooths messy hair back from her forehead. He examines the damage, and drops a gentle kiss on her less battered cheek.
“I’m sorry, my love. I was just out having some tea with Cally. I came back as fast as I could. How are you feeling?”
He gets the tone just right – reassuring and comforting, but without being too OTT indulgent and provoking more outrage. She glances from me to him, sniffs, and says: “Not good. I was sure I could get to the top of the tree. I’ve been up bigger ones in the woods here! But it was wet and slippy, and I lost my grip, and I came tumbling down and got whacked on all the branches…”
“Right. Well, you are pretty awesome at climbing trees, sweetie – and I think you’re going to be okay. Did you feel silly when you fell?”
“Yes!” she semi-wails. “And Shannon and her brother and her sisters all laughed at me, until her mum came out and shouted at them!”
Ah. The truth is out. Her physical pain has been multiplied by the humiliation, and then made even worse by her dad not being around when she got home. Tough night.
“I bet they’ll be in trouble now,” he says, running his hands over her tiny shoulders, as though he wants to reassure himself that she’s in one piece. “Bet they got sent to bed and a real telling off.”
Lilly considers this, and it seems to console her.
“Yeah,” she mutters, swiping away an angry tear. “I think so. I was sad when you weren’t here though, Dad.”
She’s slipped back into “Dad”, not “Daddy”, so she must be feeling better.
“Well, I’m here now, and I can take you home.”
“All right,” she replies, wriggling upright. “You look nice. So do you, Cally. I like your lipstick. Have you got any biscuits, Auntie Connie?”
Connie gives us all a grin – the injured party asking for a biscuit is always a good sign – and dashes off to the kitchen. Ella stands up, giving Lilly a final pat on the head, and turns to Archie. Her hair is all over the place and she has the buttons of her shirt done up wrong, and I can’t help wondering what mischief we tore her away from.
“She’ll be fine,” she says, as Archie walks her to the door. “Most of the damage was done as she came down, and the branches broke her fall. No head injury other than the graze and a bashed nose, which isn’t broken. No signs of any concussion; she said she broke her fall with her limbs. I’ve cleansed her knee and dressed it, and it should heal up well, but I’ll pop in and keep an eye on her just in case. I think she’s more in shock than anything. Don’t worry – all part of the job description when you’re seven, isn’t it?”
I hear Ella leaving, and walk over to the patient. I pick a couple of leaves from her hair, and drop a gentle kiss on the top of her head before going through to the hallway.
I see Archie standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, looking up into the night sky.
“Hey,” I say quietly, reaching out to hold one of his hands. “Are you all right? She’ll be fine, you know – more shocked than anything, I think.”
“I know,” he replies, not meeting my eyes. “Sorry this evening didn’t quite turn out as planned…but that’s what happens when I try and take a night off.”
He sounds far more upset than Lilly’s accident warrants, and I suspect that he is also feeling guilty. I know full well that when you’re trying to be both parents to a child, the pressure feels even more intense. We can’t control the universe on behalf of our kids, but we certainly try our best.
“You’ve nothing to be sorry about,” I reassure him. “I don’t mind. I completely understand. And Lilly isn’t really angry with you; she’s just lashing out because she’s upset. She’ll feel completely different in the morning. Do you want me to walk home with you, help get them settled?”
He gives my fingers a brief squeeze, then untangles his hand from mine. He still seems distracted, quiet, focused on something I can’t quite grasp.
