Page 111 of Never Too Late
‘In everything but blood, he is my son. I would give anything for his parents to still be alive so that they could see what a good man he is. So that he still had them in his life.’
His voice faltered on the last word and I wrapped my arm around his waist, his own arm mirroring the action. ‘But I do believe they are looking down and are proud of him.’
‘As they should be, with thanks to you.’ I kissed his cheek and snuggled into his side, pride and love for the man he now was overwhelming me as I thought about his words.
I wasn’t half so sure about the existence of such an afterlife as he was and we’d had long, deep discussions about such things long ago. Clearly, Tomas’s opinions on the subject hadn’t altered. Mine, however, had wavered a little. Life changes you. The things that happen. The paths that you take, or that appear before you and before others.
When Sash was at primary school, I’d got chatting to a new mum, Amelia, at the nursery. We’d bonded quickly, which was unusual for me since returning from Paris. We shared the same sense of humour and the same wish of having conversations about something other than our children, meeting up often for a cup of tea and playdates. And then one day, she didn’t turn up at the gates. She’d not replied to any messages for a few days, which was unusual but I’d not put any stock in it. People led busy lives. A few days later, I met her husband at the gates. I almost didn’t recognise him. Amelia was gone.
She’d been on her way home from visiting her parents. They were all supposed to have been going but George, their son, was feeling grouchy and with the threat of chicken pox running amok around the local schools, they’d decided that just Amelia would go. Ten minutes from home, someone coming the other way had felt replying to a text message was a more important task than keeping their eyes on the road. They’d hit Amelia head-on. They’d walked away with barely a scratch. Amelia had been killed instantly.
‘You still believe that then?’
‘In an afterlife?’ Tomas replied. ‘I do.’ He turned his head. ‘Have you changed your mind?’
‘I’m not sure,’ I answered honestly. ‘I like to think now that there’s somewhere wonderful and good that those we love go to. Other than that, I’m…’ I shrugged. ‘I’m fuzzy on the details.’
‘Who says there have to be details?’
He was right. Why did it all have to be explained? Beliefs so rarely fell into the minutely detailed camp and why should they?
‘You lost someone?’ he asked, perceptive as ever.
‘Yes. A close friend. Many years ago now.’
‘Time doesn’t lessen our love, or how much we miss them.’
‘No. You’re right, it doesn’t. But I like to think she’s up there, happy. Although… how can you be happy when you’ve left your child and the love of your life behind?’ I looked back at him. ‘It’s very complicated.’
‘It is.’ Then he kissed me and that was blissfully simple. ‘I’m sorry about your friend.’
‘And I’m sorry about yours, for you and for Benoit. They made an excellent decision making you his godfather.’
‘It wasn’t thought so at the time, believe me.’
‘And yet they stuck to their guns and look…’
Our gazes landed on Sasha and Benoit, his expression one of deep concentration as Sasha showed him something on the camera, her hands moving in explanation as they did so. ‘You helped him become who he is today.’
‘The man who’s very much in love with your daughter.’
I let out a sigh. ‘The man my daughter is very much in love with…’
Tomas turned. ‘She is?’
‘She is.’
He shifted his weight. ‘You don’t seem pleased.’
‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘It’s not that. She’s happy and that makes me happy. I just don’t… she’s never felt like this about anyone. Not this strongly.’ I shrugged, feeling the tears spring to my eyes, the surroundings adding to the emotion. ‘I don’t want her heart broken.’
Tomas held my gaze for a long moment. The words I hadn’t added were still there.Like mine was. Both of us heard them, even unspoken.
‘I can’t promise that,’ he said. ‘All I can say is that ever since Sasha entered his life, Benoit has been the happiest I have ever seen him.’
I untangled myself from him and rummaged in my handbag, still a little larger than Gabby and Reine would have me carry, and unearthed a pocket pack of tissues. Extracting one, I dabbed at my eyes and nose.
‘Look OK?’ I asked Tomas.
