Page 22 of If I Could Say Goodbye
Jennifer is drawing a picture in the mud with a stick; Oscar looks like he is scouring the river edge for hidden treasure, his school trousers rolled up to his knees; while Hailey’s plaits hang upside down as she handstands on the grass verge in the background, her school skirt somewhere around her shoulders. I sit and watch them inside the heat of the car, with the hum and soft vibration of the engine.
I was angry when I drove here. Angry at Jen. But watching them now . . . I’m thinking that maybe she has got it right. Maybe it’s the rest of us that have got it wrong. Laughter catches at the back of my throat as Oscar chases Jen around with something either dead or very much alive; her hair is tangling around her, her cheeks are red as she runs towards a startled-looking Hailey who shrieks and hops along the stepping stones across the stream.
I open the boot, retrieve the football which had been rolling about in there for weeks, and lock the car; my suit and work shoes carrying me unsteadily to my family. Oscar stops his assault on the girls when he spots me.
‘Daddy!’ His bare feet and rolled-up school trousers run through the grass towards me; I pick him up with my free arm, spinning him around before replacing his feet back onto the grass, mud seeping between his toes. ‘Mummy said I didn’t have to go to school today so we came to Muddy Creek instead and look, I found a frog.’ The frog in question is not as impressed by my visit as my son and is hanging limply from his grasp . . . I’m sure it’s just rolled its eyes before giving me a resigned ‘gribbit’. Hailey approaches me; her smile is uneasy and in opposition to her legs, which are skipping. Jen is smiling at me from the water’s edge, her arms outstretched, opening up the scene like a page from a picture book: the sun breaking through the clouds, the small waterfall behind her catching the light and expelling rainbows, her expression saying, look at this . . . isn’t it wonderful?
‘Hello, Daddy. Are you cross? Mummy fetched me from class.’
‘No, how could I be cross when you’re all having such a lovely time?’ I kiss the top of her head as Jen walks towards me. She is chewing the corner of her mouth, waiting for me to react to her actions. Oscar turns to Hailey, raising the frog and chasing her away; her squeals are half outrage and half horror. Jen stands in front of me, tucking her hands into her back pockets and rocking on her feet.
‘Hello.’
Hello? I raise my eyebrows in disbelief.
‘I’m waiting for you to tell me off.’ She runs a finger along the top of her lip, a nervous tic that I’m not even sure she knows she has. Her eyebrows question me.
There are a hundred angry words hidden in my mouth: I want to tell her that two hours ago I thought she was hurt, two hours ago I thought I might have lost my family, that they could be dead. I smile at Jen; relief sags her shoulders as I pull her towards me and kiss her: two hours ago, this kiss wouldn’t have felt this good. Seeing my kids wouldn’t have felt this good. Life wasn’t this good.
She wraps her arms around my neck and sinks into me.
‘Ugh! Gross!’ Hailey exclaims.
Oscar has turned his back and is running his own arms up and down, making kissing noises. ‘Mummy and Daddy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.’
The warm spring sun stays out, my jacket and tie are discarded, my trousers are rolled up, and we spend the next few hours trying to catch frogs, eating chips from cones while our feet dangle into the cool water.
I’m lying on my back; Jen’s head is heavy against my arm. The kids are climbing the oak tree next to us and apart from an elderly couple walking their dog, we have the place to ourselves.
‘What would you be doing if you were at work?’ Jen asks, her voice thick with relaxation.
I look at my watch. ‘I’d be pretending to listen to my boss talking about the best ways to market hand sanitiser.’
‘Hailey? What do you do at school at half past two?’ Jen sits up, waiting for an answer.
‘Ugh. Assembly with Reverend Coates.’ She giggles and swings herself down from a branch.
‘Oscar, no higher OK?’ Jen shouts, turning onto her front and propping her head up on her hand. She leans in a kiss on the top of my nose. ‘I’m sorry I worried you.’
I look into her eyes. A flippant retort about how she can make it up to me is on the tip of my tongue, but I somehow can’t seem to say it. The panic I felt this morning still smarts.
‘Don’t do it again,’ I say.
She nods her head. Just one short movement.
‘Muuuuummmmmy!’ We’re both on our feet, rushing to the base of the tree. ‘I’m stuck!’
‘I’ll get him,’ Hailey announces.
‘No!’ Jen and I say.
‘I’ll go.’ I look down at my bare feet and back at the gnarly bark.
Jen puts her hand on mine. ‘I’ll go, you’ll ruin your work trousers. Oscar, just stay there, sweetie, I’ll just put my trainers on.’
I stand at the base of the tree and look up to where Oscar is perched, his face grey with worry. ‘Jen—’
I’m about to tell her it’s higher than she thinks but she is already running towards me, her eyes bright, her hair being pulled into a ponytail. Jen tips her head back, and nods towards a heavy branch to the right and begins to climb. Hailey slips her hand into mine as we both watch, our necks stretched, and our heads bent backwards. Jen is moving quickly from branch to branch, giving words of comfort to Oscar as she goes. It takes only a few minutes until she is level with him, her feet in a stepping position, her right hand firmly gripping an opposite branch.
