Page 70 of Seven Letters

Luck. What a joke. Two weeks ago Adam had felt like the luckiest man in the world, now his life was about as unlucky as it could possibly be.

He blamed himself. He’d known Sarah was getting headaches and had told her to go and see the obstetrician, but she hadn’t. He should have paid more attention – should have taken her there himself. She must have been worried, in pain, serious pain. Why hadn’t she told him how bad the headaches were?

He was angry with himself but also with her. Damn you, Sarah, why didn’t you speak up? Why did you have to be so bloody stoic? They might have been able to operate and save your life – save ours too. Me and Izzy and the baby are lost without you. Adam thumped the shower wall, instantly regretting it as a sharp pain shot up his arm.

‘FUCK!’ he roared.

‘Daddy,’ a little voice behind him said.

Adam exhaled deeply. ‘Yes, Izzy?’

‘Breakfast is ready. I poured your cornflakes for you.’

‘You are wonderful. I’ll be down in two minutes.’

Izzy was eating her cereal quietly when Adam walked in. He felt marginally better after his shower and shout.

‘Eat your breakfast, Daddy, or I’ll be late for school.’

He kissed Izzy’s head. ‘Thanks for getting everything ready.’

‘We need to hurry, Daddy. We have to make my lunch. I can’t be late for school.’ Izzy took off her glasses, picked up a tea-towel and began to clean them.

‘I’ll sort it out. Just let me have some coffee first. It’ll help me wake up.’

While Adam drank a cup of strong coffee, Izzy finished her cereal and put her bowl in the dishwasher. She pulled out the pitta bread and the cheese and placed them on the counter.

Adam picked up a bread knife and tried to hack open the pitta. Lumps of bread sprayed all over the countertop. ‘What the hell?’

‘Stop, Daddy!’ Izzy shouted. ‘You have to toast it first. It goes all puffy in the toaster and then you can cut it and the cheese goes all melty when you put it in.’

‘Fine.’ Adam grabbed another pitta and placed it in the toaster. When it popped he reached in to take it out. ‘Jesus!’ he cried, dropping it on the floor. ‘Bloody hell, that’s hot.’

‘Mummy made it pop out without touching it,’ Izzy grumbled.

Adam picked it up and grasped the bread knife.

‘I’m not eating that! It fell on the floor! It’s all dirty and gross,’ Izzy cried.

Adam gave it a rub with a tea-towel. ‘It’s fine. The floor is clean.’

‘No, it isn’t. Mummy cleaned the floor every day but you don’t and it isn’t clean now and I’m not eating disgusting dirty pitta.’

‘I’ll do another.’

They waited in silence as the pitta toasted. When it popped, Adam flipped it out of the toaster without using his burned fingertips. He carefully cut it open and laid the two sides face up, letting them cool down.

‘No, Daddy, you can’t let it go cold or the cheese won’t melt. You’re not supposed to cut it open fully. Only a bit so you can put the cheese inside, then close it and it melts. Now it won’t melt.’ She stamped her foot. ‘I don’t want it. Put on another one.’

‘That was the last one.’

‘You’re the worst sandwich-maker ever. I have no lunch now. I’m going to starve in school.’

‘Hold on, you can have a – a …’ Adam frantically looked around for something. This was Sarah’s territory, not his. He found some crackers in the cupboard. ‘Here, cheese and crackers will be nice too.’

‘I hate crackers. I have never, ever liked crackers. I like pitta with melty cheese. It’s the only sandwich I really like.’

‘Come on, Izzy, give me a break here. Just eat crackers today or else eat the pitta with cheese not fully melted. It really isn’t that big a deal. I’ll get you a chocolate bar in the garage beside school as a treat. OK?’

---