Page 180 of Every Silent Lie
“Oh my gosh,” Albi breathes, standing on the bottom step looking at the floor in the hallway, where muddy footprints make a trail. He follows them to the lounge and stops. “There’s no more footprints,” he says, pointing. “Look, Daddy. They stop here.” Just before the insanely expensive cream carpet. “Father Christmas must know we’re not allowed to wear shoes in the lounge.”
“Clever Father Christmas,” I whisper. “When did you do this?”
“At three a.m.”
“I didn’t hear you get up.”
“Because I’m stealth like Father Christmas.”
“They ate the carrots. Oh my gosh, all the presents are here!” Albi starts jumping on the spot. “Look, Daddy. Look, Camryn!” He bombs past us, back to the lounge entrance. “Aunty April, Uncle Blaine,” he yells from the doorway. “If Daddy can’t have morning sex, neither can you! Get up!”
Dec coughs on nothing, and I throw him a wide-eyed look. “Shit.”
“Any suggestions?” he asks.
“Pretend it never happened,” I say. “Don’t bring more attention to it. And never assume he can’t hear you.”
“Noted.”
We both quickly move out of Albi’s path when he dashes back past us like a tornado, dropping to his knees in front of the tree, his little face full of astonishment. An unavoidable gut-wrenching feeling comes over me. It’s not something I can chase away by having a private, stern word with myself, or by physically shaking myself away from the thoughts and memories coming at me. I look at Dec, seeing he’s spotted it, and I push the tips of my index fingers together. He nods mildly as I turn and leave the room, meeting April and Blaine on my way out, both pulling dressing gowns on, both smiling wide when they see me. I try with all my might to return their beams and fail miserably.
“I just need a moment,” I say as I pass them, not trying to fool them with excuses that I need the toilet or anything else. This won’t be the last time I have to take a break. Today’s going to be a bizarre and conflicting mix of joy and sorrow. I just didn’t expect to need be take a timeout so soon.
“Of course,” April says. “Take as much time as you need.”
I make it into the kitchen and brace my hands on the worktop, my rigid arms holding me up. I take some deep breaths, in and out, in and out. Sometimes I wish I could reach into my chest and physically squeeze my heart to stop it thumping so hard. Like now. I can hear it pounding in my ears. I blow out my cheeks and remove my hands from the counter, standing without support. “Coffee,” I breathe, going to the machine and staring at the endless knobs and buttons. What do I need to do, talk to it? Abandoning the machine, I find a glass and get some water. Constant squeals of excitement come from the lounge, oh my goshes on loop.
I hear Albi.
I see Noah.
“Jesus, Camryn,” I murmur to myself, glugging down the water, vehemently willing the shortness of breath to piss off. Breathe. Long, deep breaths. I rub at my chest and focus on that, breathing, watching the clock on the cooker as the minutes tick by. Five pass before I feel ready to join them again.
Dec appears in the doorway. “Okay?” he asks and then frowns to himself. “Of course you’re not.” Shaking his head, he pads over and takes the empty glass from my hand before swathing me with his body. He doesn’t say anything more, just holds me until I start to feel guilty for tearing him away from Albi.
“I’m good,” I say, gently easing out of his hold, despite wanting to stay in it forever. “Has he peed his pants yet?”
“Multiple times.” He reaches for a drawer by the sink and pulls out a roll of binbags. “It looks like a bomb’s gone off in a wrapping paper factory.”
Laughing lightly, I take his offered hand and let him lead me back to the lounge. Blaine is building something—I don’t know what—and April’s on her hands and knees reaching for various ripped bits of wrapping paper, dragging them into one pile. Albi tears into another gift and holds up a box. “More Lego!”
“Fuck my life,” Dec says over a sigh. “April?”
“What?” she asks, totally coy. “He loves Lego.”
“You can build it with him then.”
“Camryn, look!” Albi leaps over a pile of paper and grabs a bag, thrusting it at me. “I’ll be a fireman!”
“So cool,” I say, taking the binbags from Dec and ripping one off, starting to fill it. “What else did you get from Father Christmas?”
He grins. “I know he doesn’t bring me all the presents. Thank you, Daddy!” He throws his arms around Dec’s legs before coming at me too. “Thank you, Camryn.”
Huh? Oh my. “Oh, baby, I didn’t?—”
“Welcome, fella,” Dec says, eyeballing me. And it’s in this moment it occurs to me that I’ve not got any gifts to give. And I’m fucking horrified, more so when April reaches under the tree and holds out a box to me. Oh my God. “April, I?—”
“It’s nothing, really. And it’s for both of you.”
