Page 9 of If I Could Say Goodbye
‘Mummy?’ Hailey interrupts from the kitchen, where Oscar has folded into a fit of giggles. ‘That language is unacceptable.’
I didn’t even realise they were in the room.
I stand, throw the dishcloth into the sink and put my hands on my hips. ‘Why?’ I question.
Oscar’s shoulders sink into his tiny torso as he looks at me and then back at Hailey, like he is watching something on TV from behind a cushion.
Hailey’s eyebrows pull together and her nose wrinkles. ‘Because that’s what you’ve always said,’ she complains. ‘“Bad language is unacceptable because there are so many other beautiful words in the English language that could be used.”’
Oscar joins in and they both mimic me: ‘Swearing is lazy.’
‘Well . . . I’ve changed my mind.’
Ed raises his eyebrows and turns his head away from me in the same way as he does when I snap at him irrationally when I have PMT.
‘Swearing does serve a purpose . . . it feels good. The words feel sharp in your mouth, like when you eat something spicy or sour. Try it.’
Ed’s head turns towards me, a look of guarded amusement crossing his face as he leans his body against the kitchen counter.
Oscar giggles, covers his mouth with his hand and squeaks out the word: ‘Poo-head.’
Hailey chews the inside of her mouth.
‘Go on, Hailey,’ I reassure; she looks towards her dad for permission.
He shrugs his consent, exhaling through his lips with a ‘pfft’.
Her lips press together as she takes a deep breath. ‘Shit,’ she says quietly, her eyes widening with shock.
Ed sniggers from behind his hand.
‘Butt-hole!’ explodes from Oscar’s mouth, who has now taken himself off the chair and is rolling around on the floor laughing.
‘Crap!’ shouts Hailey, ‘Crap! Crap! Crap! Your turn, Mummy.’
‘Hmmm . . .’ I grin at Ed, whose eyebrows have shot up into his hairline. ‘OK.’ I nod to myself. ‘But it is such a bad word that I will have to whisper it.’
Ed’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down; his face takes on a look of panic. ‘Er . . . Jen?’
I ignore his concerns, the kids becoming still before I beckon them over. I crouch down so I am at their eye-level. ‘OK. If I tell you this word, you must absolutely promise not to use it.’
Their heads bob up and down, eyes wide, mouths agape, teeth – white and pure – visible in anticipation.
Glancing over at Ed’s worried face, I lick my top lip and look back at my beautiful kids. ‘Promise?’ They nod again. ‘Cross your hearts and hope to die?’ They nod again, Oscar’s brown curls bouncing up and down.
‘OK, the word is . . .’ I pause for dramatic effect, the house holds its breath in anticipation, the boiler finishes its cycle, the kettle emits a quiet final puff of steam. ‘Vladivostok.’
Hailey nods knowingly at the word she is sure she has heard through the closed lounge door amidst gun fire and action heroes. Behind me, Ed chokes back a laugh. ‘Now, off you go. You can watch one more episode ofTom and Jerrythen it’s bath time.’ They scurry out of the kitchen into the hall, whispering and giggling to each other.
Ed takes my hand, pulling me up. I loop my arms around his neck and grin.
‘Vladivostok?’ He questions, tucking his hands into the waistband of my jeans.
‘I think it’s a small town in Russia.’
He leans his forehead against mine, amusement folding into something else. ‘Jen . . . is everything OK?’
I kiss his nose. ‘Yes, why?’
