Page 96 of Second Verse

Thirty-Eight

‘Here’s your beer,’ Norah said through a strained smile. She’d been getting drinks for everyone; it had felt a little churlish to exclude him. God, she hated being the bigger person. It was so much fucking work.

‘Thanks, babe,’ Max said.

She shot him a look. ‘Sorry, force of habit,’ he mumbled.

Norah was annoyed her mother had invited Max to this. Come to think of it, Norah was pissed at her mother’s presence, too. But she’d invited herself when she heard Norah talking to Freddie about the fayre.

And then Max had suddenly shown up at the door, acting like they were all going on a lovely family jaunt. Clearly, there was some behind-the-scenes business going on between the two of them. Poppy had implied as much.

Norah knew what Max wanted. He’d had his fun, and he was crawling back, cap in hand, expecting his family to come home. There was no way. Norah had tasted her freedom, too, and it came with a gift of purchase. Perspective on their attempt at family. It was clear to see now that it had never functioned at the most basic level. Respect, kindness, empathy—they hadn’t had it. Norah couldn’t show Freddie that that was what a relationship was. He’d only grow up to repeat it. He needed to see a true partnership.

Though, of course, Norah was going to have to find it first. But she worried it wasn’t on the cards for her. She might just be one of those people who couldn’t do it.

Like her mother. She could have found someone else after her father died, but she hadn’t. Norah suspected the trouble was that hiding her difficult nature had gotten tougher as she got older. If that was Norah’s future, too, then so be it. She was done compromising everything, compromising herself. She could be alone forever. It wouldn’t bethatbad.

But if Max wanted to watch his son have fun, she wouldn’t have denied either of them that. So here they all were, at the summer fayre. A collection of adults tied together by resentment and need.

Norah watched Freddie jump about on the bouncy castle. Suddenly, she spotted Luna bouncing next to her son. Poppy had to be nearby.

Norah picked Poppy’s long figure out of the crowd quickly and her heart jumped. Poppy turned at that moment, and they caught each other’s eyes. Then Poppy turned away from her to watch Luna bounce on the castle.

Norah heard a mournful sigh escape her own lips.

She wanted to go to Poppy. She wanted to say, ‘Poppy, please, I miss you. Let’s work this out.’ But Poppy had made it clear that she was stepping back from Norah, and her reasons were not unfair. Norah could only hurt herself trying to repair it. The opportunity with Poppy was gone.

‘Something wrong?’ Max asked.

‘Nothing,’ she told him. As if he could understand.

Susan appeared, armed with her usual weapon, a clipboard. ‘That looks fun,’ Susan said, looking at the bouncy castle.

‘You should head in,’ Norah joked.

‘God, no. What? Me? I’m anadult,’ Susan said.

But she watched the kids with longing. She was clearly stressed as fuck. It was the first time Norah had ever felt pity for her.

‘Is that... Is that over the limit?’ Susan asked, frowning.

Norah examined the castle. There was something like thirty kids on the thing now. That did seem a bit...

‘Perhaps I ought to have a word with...’ Susan’s voice quavered.

But she broke off mid-sentence. Because she was too late for ‘a word’. Slowly at first, then with alarming speed, the castle was beginning to tilt.

Children shrieked and slid to one side. Dozens of adults ran forward to help, but no one could scale the moving beast. Norah attempted to push her way through the adults, but they were a thick mass of panic that was impossible to penetrate.

No parenting book had prepared any of them for a rogue bouncy castle, and while the adults yelled to each other, hoping someone knew what to do, the bouncy castle was dragged ever further over by more kids rolling toward one side. It was now balancing on a knife's edge. Norah finally wriggled through a gap and tried to jump on but was quickly bounced right back onto her arse on the grass.

Then, inevitably, the last few kids who’d managed to hold their position anywhere else on the castle lost their grip and were tossed sideways, pulled into the castle’s new centre of gravity.

That final force tipped the scales. The runaway castle flipped right over—throwing the kids onto the grass with a thump—and immediately rolled right on top of them. In theprocess, it ripped free from the pump and began to deflate on top of them at astonishing speed. The whole thing was like a collapsing star of bouncy horror.

The grownups attempted to leap into action yet again, struggling against each other to get a grip on the deflating castle, Norah among them. But there was no organisation to the effort and no one was getting a good purchase. The material was too heavy and the parents too panicked.

Poppy suddenly appeared on the far side of the castle, ‘Norah! Come with me!’ she screamed.

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