Page 60 of Oleander

By that point, I hadn’t seen her for almost two weeks, and the sight of her was a shock.

I stopped still in the hallway, unsure of what to do or say. I wanted to disappear, but since that wasn’t possible, I considered taking a few steps backwards into my bedroom and closing the door. She stared at me with a strange look on her face for a fewlong, terrible moments. The look wasn’t hostile, which was, I suppose, what I’d been expecting. She was sad, but the way she looked at me was soft and surprisingly tender.

Then, all at once, she moved toward me. Four or five strident steps, and she wrapped me up in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry, Jude,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

I found myself pressing a hand to her back, warm under her pyjama top. I didn’t know what I was supposed to say. I didn’t know what she was apologising for.

“I’m sorry too,” I said, and I felt her hug me a little tighter.

“I love you, okay? I’m sorry, and I love you.”

I said, “Okay.” And then, “I love you too.” I wasn’t sure we’d ever said it to each other before.

She kissed my head, though since I was as tall as she was, it was a sort of kiss on the side of it. She pulled back to look at me thoroughly.

“Happy Birthday. Sixteen, huh? You’re basically an adult now.”

“You’re going to send me down the mines tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“Nah, not on a Sunday. First thing Monday, though.” She gave me a wink and let me go, edging toward the bathroom. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Tell Luke to put the coffee pot on, will you? Then I’ll make us some bacon and pancakes. How about that?”

I blinked, then nodded.

“I’ll bring your gifts down in a bit. Go put some clothes on, birthday boy.”

And with that, she disappeared into the bathroom. I stared at the closed door for a minute, though maybe I was waiting and listening to see if she’d break down again as soon as she wasalone. I didn’t hear anything except the sound of the shower being twisted on and the spray hissing into the bath.

Beth told me some years later that when she’d been lying in bed all those days, wondering and thinking about why this had happened to her – to them – she’d concluded that she was to blame. When I asked what she even meant by that, she said that every day since our parents died, she’d had the chance to be a mother to me. She’d had the chance to step up and prove that she could be a mother to someone who needed one. She’d concluded, and the universe had apparently agreed, that she hadn’t done a very good job of it. Therefore, she couldn’t be trusted with a baby of her own.

It was nonsense, of course. But I think it helped Beth in some strange way. To feel like she could, one day, be good enough.

Luke had given me a hesitant smile, as though afraid to hope that she’d turned a corner when I’d gone downstairs and told him Beth was in the shower and she’d asked him to put the coffee pot on. When she came down, she looked fresh and well-rested. She’d kissed him on the cheek and went immediately to the pantry cupboard for the flour.

It felt almost normal as we sat down to eat crispy bacon and pancakes, both drizzled with the last of the syrup.

“These are delicious; thanks, Beth.” My mouth was half full as I spoke, which would normally have annoyed her. This time, though, she just gave me an indulgent smile and took a sip of her coffee.

“So, what’s your plans today? Doing something nice with Ellie?” she asked, face bright.

I looked down at my plate. “Ah, yeah, I’ll see her later. A few of us are going over to Alfie’s later to stay the night. We’re gonna watch some films and play pool.”

She nodded. “Are his parents okay with it?”

Technically, his parents were okay with it. But normally, when I stayed at Alfie’s or Josh’s, Beth or Luke would call their parents to check if it was fine. Check what time I should be dropped off and picked up, check that we weren’t actually going out on a murder and rioting spree across the island. I’d cleared it with Luke already, and he knew Alfie’s parents weren’t going to be there. He knew because he’d also been invited to the same Christmas party they were going to – it was for small business owners across Jersey – and they’d spoken about it on the phone. He’d taken a bit of coaxing but agreed in the end, fears allayed by whatever Malina (Alfie’s mum) had told him. Beth was usually much harder to convince. I didn’t expect any difference this time. And I didn’t want to ruin her mood by having an argument about it.

Dread curling in my stomach, I looked imploringly at Luke.

“They’re going to the Lavine Christmas Party,” he said. “But they’ve assured me they’ll be checking in and they’ve got their neighbours keeping an eye out.”

“That’s tonight?” she asked and Luke nodded, before taking a large gulp of his coffee. “Oh, thank Christ, we don’t have to go.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, sounding relieved.

Beth looked at me again. I decided that if she said I wasn’t to go over, then I’d accept that.

“So you and the boys and the girls at Alfie’s house, unsupervised.”