The Three Loves of Sebastian Cooper, page 18
‘What are you all looking at?’ her mother asked.
Millie hastily returned to her brother’s table while the barman managed to reconnect the Wi-Fi and put the Spotify playlist back on. ‘Tryin’ to Throw Your Arms Around the World’ by U2.
‘Come on,’ Millie said, putting a protective arm around Jasper. ‘Let’s see if Arthur’s in the garden…’
44
CLAIR
November 2014, Northill
‘You’re all moved in, then?’
‘Yeah, it’s looking nice.’
Clair didn’t say she’d walked past Seb and Desiree’s new house on Rowan Road three times on her day off – just on her way to Sainsbury’s – when she knew they would be at work in London.
It didn’t look anything special.
‘The kids seem to like it,’ she conceded, through terse teeth.
‘Well, not as much as they love it here, by the looks of things,’ Seb said. He was dropping Millie and Jasper back home after the weekend spent in their new, second bedrooms, and stood on the doorstep, rubbing his hands together to warm up. It was clear Clair wasn’t going to invite him in.
‘Anything I need to know?’ she asked brusquely.
‘No, they’ve seemed fine and happy. Took them swimming yesterday and I only remembered the costumes tonight, so they’re in the wash back…’ Seb pointed his thumb over his shoulder while Clair frowned.
‘Great. They have swim lesson after school on Mondays. I need them back.’
‘No problem, I’ll drop them on my way to the station tomorrow.’
Clair imagined the sick-making vision of Desiree and Seb skipping through the park to the railway station, giddy for a day in London, while she had packed lunches, reading records, and everything else to sort for school and then work and then the childminder.
She gave a sarcastic smile. It was just too much. She hated the handovers. The relief at having the kids back dampened by the anger that he had caused all this. That he had chosen to live apart from them. It was all too upsetting and she wanted to shut the door on his smug and happy face. Except it was the face she loved.
Seb looked as if he was lingering.
‘Yes?’
‘We need to talk about Christmas… and Jasper’s birthday.’
Jasper’s fifth birthday was going to be his first since the separation, and although Millie’s ninth birthday in May was a bouncing bonanza at the local trampoline park, Clair had got through the day without even looking at Seb. He didn’t want this to be as awful.
‘What do you want, Seb?’
He wanted to go in, see the kids settle in, have a conversation in the warm, but he knew he’d blown that when he left.
‘I just want to know what you want, Clair – I’ll work around you.’ It was going to be the first Christmas apart too, and he knew it wasn’t going to be easy. He remembered the one when he was eighteen back in Guernsey.
Clair gave another sarcastic thanks, her arms folded across her gilet, as she looked out onto the dark green beyond Seb’s shoulder, hoping that staring into the darkness would stop her eyes from stinging.
I have to be strong.
‘Well, I don’t want any of this,’ she said sadly, softening.
Seb felt the blow to the stomach. He had hurt the person he had been closest to on the planet, and he felt wretched about it.
‘So I don’t know, I guess you tell me what you want. I can’t face Guernsey at New Year. Too many explanations. My parents said they might come here. We might all go to the Wirral. Rachel’s bought a puppy, that might cheer the kids up.’
Whoosh.
‘That sounds nice.’
Clair shot Seb a look as if to say fuck off.
‘Well, I’ll work around you – maybe you do Christmas and I can take the kids to Guernsey for New Year. See my mum – I could take them to see Adrian and Linda too, if they don’t come over…’
Clair smiled sadly. The thought of it terrified her, but maybe New Year’s Eve on her own, or with her nurse friends or her mum mates, might be a healthier way to say fuck you to the worst year of her life.
‘Think about it.’
Clair nodded.
‘And Jasper’s birthday?’
‘I’m doing a party here.’
Seb was surprised – Jasper seemed to hate parties, so Seb was going to suggest a day out to one of the London museums.
‘I’ve invited some of his new friends from Reception. On the day, after school. You’re welcome… if you want.’
Perhaps he could do that too. His spirits lifted a bit.
‘Yeah, OK, shall I sort a cake?’
‘If you want.’
A chilly wind blew across the green, making some of the Christmas lights that had started to go up in trees and bushes jiggle in the wind. Making Clair’s watery vision distort even more.
Hold it together, she thought.
They both knew this first festive season apart in twenty years was going to be brutal, and Clair begrudged the optimism Seb would be starting 2015 with.
‘OK, cool. I’ll see if I can get a cake with a robot or something Jaspy on it.’ Seb looked galvanised, grateful to have a role. ‘I’ll keep you posted about what I sort.’
He turned around to walk back down the path. The deco houses on the green all looked cosy with their lights and wreaths. Sunday night was in full swing. Strictly results. Smells of roast dinners and spiced bakes. The world closed.
‘Oh, and, Seb,’ Clair called as he reached the end of the path. He stopped and turned around. His face still tanned and handsome from his autumn holiday to Bali.
‘Don’t bring her.’
‘No, of course.’
45
JUNE 2019, NORTHILL, OXFORDSHIRE
‘Look! There he is!’
Jasper went straight to Arthur and his mum, Helen, who were sitting at a bench table, each drinking a half pint of lemonade, bubbles bursting and leaping from the bottom of the glass. Millie gave a downbeat smile and walked straight to the swing at the bottom of the pub garden and sat on it, her legs slightly too long for it now, half wishing she had a friend there too. It hadn’t even crossed Millie’s mind to invite Lottie or Daisy, and she didn’t want to text anyone and put them under pressure to come to her dad’s funeral now. They had sent her texts this morning. She knew they cared. She didn’t want to make them panic about whether to come or what to wear.
Dave opened the back door of the pub with his elbow; Jasper’s drone in one hand, pint in the other.
‘You want this, buddy?’ he asked, holding up the toy.
A happy flash dashed across Jasper’s face for a second. He’d been wanting to show Arthur his new drone but hadn’t been in school to even tell him about it.
‘Just watch the apple trees, eh?’ Dave advised as he turned it on, placed it on the grass, and handed the control to Jasper. ‘You don’t want to get it caught in them.’
‘Cool!’ Arthur blurted, springing off the bench as a light buzz hummed. Both boys marvelled as the drone rose between them, neon lights of the rotators reflecting colour in the whites of their eyes.
Dave perched on the next bench to Helen and they watched the boys follow the drone around the garden, carefree. He raised a thumb to Millie on the swing, who couldn’t bring herself to raise her thumb back but fleetingly nodded as she launched herself higher into orbit, wondering if the swing might take off and she fly away from here.
‘How are they doing?’ Helen asked candidly, when the boys were out of earshot by the field with two horses, who were looking a little disconcerted by the drone. She tucked a light brown curl behind her ear.
‘Not bad, considering…’ Dave replied, as his eyes too followed the drone before looking at Helen. ‘Nice of you to come today. Some normality helps. They’re still in shock, I think…’
‘It’s just so awful.’
Dave nodded.
‘Poor things. It must have been so horrific out there. And poor you and Clair here.’
Dave nodded and took a laboured sip from his pint.
Helen spoke with caution.
‘Are the police going to press charges?’
Dave sighed and shrugged.
‘We don’t know, it’s all such a mess. Obviously no matter what happens with that, it doesn’t take away the fact he’s gone. Our focus has to be on the kids…’
Helen nodded.
‘Ooh la la!’ said a sudden sing-song voice behind them. ‘So hot in there!’
Dave and Helen turned sharply to see Noemie’s mother, Camille, wafting a fan frantically in front of her face as she stood on the step outside the back door of the pub.
She surveyed the garden as she walked grandly down the short steps to it. The apple trees looked green and blousy, with no signs of autumn’s bounty budding yet. Between the two horses in the field next door, and the buttercups and daisies dotting the lawn, it looked like such a typical English country garden, Camille thought it slightly amusing. She fanned herself as she watched the boys follow the drone.
‘Afternoon,’ Dave said, agreeably.
Camille said nothing as her gaze continued to follow the boys following the drone.
‘Why are my grandchildren not here?’ she responded after a long pause. There was a jovial defiance in her voice that threw Dave. Helen shot him a look and neither answered. ‘It’s so pretty out here. How England should be but how I never see it. My grandchildren should be playing here.’
‘It has turned out beautifully…’ Dave responded, tactfully.
Camille couldn’t stand how English people always turned the conversation back to the weather; how they couldn’t just address the real issues.
‘Is nicer out here than in there anyway.’ Camille shrugged philosophically.
‘Would you like a seat?’ Dave asked, as he moved along to the very end of the bench in case she might, but Camille didn’t take him up on his offer. Instead she walked around the garden, examining its apple trees, rose bushes and lilacs. Looking at the horses in the adjacent field. Barely acknowledging Millie on the swing, who ignored her, before Camille’s imperious eyes landed on Dave and Helen.
‘She didn’t kill him, you know,’ she said casually.
Helen’s pale face flushed a russet shade of red. She’d not come here for any trouble and already felt guilty for having brought it up with Dave. She just wanted to keep out of the way and for Arthur to be there for Jasper. Dave cleared his throat awkwardly. Another thing Camille didn’t like about the English.
‘Who’s saying she did?’ Dave asked.
‘Ahh, no one.’ Camille shrugged. ‘But I see how people look at her.’ She tapped a rounded forefinger to her temple.
Dave looked down at his feet.
‘Anyway, my grandchildren, they should have been here. It’s been hard for them too.’
Before Camille had even finished saying it, she was halfway to the fence, hands clasped behind her back, to examine the horses chewing hay in the field. One black, one white, both majestic, and she continued to fan herself as she stood in the shade of an apple tree.
46
DESIREE
August 2015, London
‘What, this came from the actual moon? In the sky?’ Even when Jasper was marvelling with excitement, his face was sweet and measured.
He pressed his nose to the glass. A huge case for a small rock called the Great Scott.
‘Yep, 1971, even before I was born,’ Seb noted. ‘Can you read what it says?’ he asked enthusiastically, although he read it for him. ‘It was brought back on the Apollo 15 mission by an astronaut called David Scott.’
‘Wow…’ Jasper gasped.
‘And actually that little rock formed three billion years ago!’ Desiree said, bending down on her haunches, her eyes level with Jasper’s in the dark of the space gallery at the Science Museum. ‘Before humans became human!’
Jasper sighed in awe, while Millie walked around the glass case to see if she could see her little brother from the other side of it.
It was Seb and Desiree’s turn to have the kids this weekend, and the day had taken a surprise turn. Over porridge at breakfast, Desiree asked the kids what they wanted to do today. Swimming was getting tired, Millie had outgrown soft play – Jasper never really seemed to enjoy it anyway.
‘How about the Science Museum?’ Seb asked, rubbing his hands together. He’d been meaning to take them for ages.
A flash of suppressed excitement crossed Jasper’s face and Millie liked the idea of going on a train.
‘We can go to Covent Garden afterwards, see what’s going on in the Piazza,’ Desiree added.
The train ride was exciting; they saw the statue of Paddington at Paddington Station. The moon rock and flying machines in the Science Museum were out of this world, plus they nipped next door to the Natural History Museum to see the animatronic T-rex, which the kids were surprisingly unfazed by. Over spaghetti in Covent Garden, Millie mentioned Mummy’s new friend, Dave, and how he was always up a ladder, which piqued Seb’s interest and he asked subtle questions. Millie said he was funny and that he always wore a white onesie like the Ghostbusters; Jasper said he made them hot marshmallows on a bonfire. Seb said he sounded like a nice man. After lunch they watched a street artist dressed as Mr Bean entertain tourists from a little pedestal in the Piazza, although Millie found him creepy so Desiree took her off to Oasis and bought her a bag and a hairband in a matching print. Seb took Jasper to the Tintin shop on Floral Street to buy him his first comic now he could read, and by the time they were back in Northill, watching Big Hero 6 on DVD, Jasper and Millie had fallen asleep.
‘“Dave”, eh?’ Desiree said to Seb, once the kids had been transferred to bed.
‘I know!’
‘How do you feel?’
Seb loved Desiree’s honesty. Her ability to not shy away from any subject. He didn’t feel upset or weird about it, but knew that if he did, he could admit that to her.
‘Well, I just hope he’s a nice guy and doesn’t break her heart,’ Seb said with a guilty flash.
‘He sounds like a nice guy. “Up a ladder”, eh? Maybe he can build me that walk-in wardrobe…’ Desiree said with a wink.
Both hoped it would make life easier.
47
DESIREE
June 2019, Northill, Oxfordshire
‘Hey you!’
Christine was a Valley Girl with glossy brown hair tinged gold at the tips, ridiculously straight teeth and a soft sweet voice. She hadn’t seen Desiree at the service, so when she saw her go to the bar at the pub she jumped up from her padded banquette seat and weaved through on skyscraper heels.
‘Hi!’
They hugged.
‘Want a drink?’ Desiree asked. ‘The barman’s just doing my round…’
‘Oh, no, I’m great, thanks, I have a water over there and Jake has enough lined up for, well, I don’t even want to think about that…’ Christine waved a hand dismissively and winced, half jokingly. The noise of chatter, reminiscence and laughter meant that the playlist Clair and the kids had made was barely audible and Christine needed to raise her voice.
‘How are you doing?’ Her eyebrows knitted in concern halfway up her loveheart-shaped face.
‘Oh, you know,’ Desiree conceded, with a stabbing pain in her chest. ‘Broken-hearted. But isn’t everyone?’
‘It’s just awful. Jake… he’s been in pieces.’
‘He did so well though! Seb would have been so proud of him, and what he said to the kids was just…’ Desiree choked.
Christine nodded.
‘Seb said you were doing great though – when we last saw him.’ Christine suddenly looked ashen. ‘Said you were moving to New York!’
Desiree shrugged it off, and tried not to think about how Seb might have relayed the news to Jake and Christine. Would he have been relieved and glad to be rid of her? Or was he sad? She wondered when the conversation would have been? January after she collected her things, or May when they bumped into each other in London – that would have changed a lot – but there was no point dwelling on it.
‘Yeah, it’s all a bit up in the air at the moment, with Granny and everything, I don’t know…’
‘Oh, well, you know I’m a California girl but I spent my happiest years on the East Coast. Before I met Jake anyway…’ They paused, both aware of Noemie’s back moving towards them, tattoos of a lotus flower and Sanskrit words and symbols trickling down her spine as she edged nearer, in intense conversation with Martin and Roger.
‘Anyway, how are you? How’s Axel?’ Desiree asked excitedly.
Desiree was always deft at changing the conversation; taking the focus off her and onto where she wanted it to be; managing everything so it was cool and composed and perfect. It had worked. Christine’s face lit up.
‘Oh, he’s just the cutest. Into everything at the moment. Talking and jabbering lots. He’s loving bumbling about in the garden… he’s just a dream.’
Noemie’s conversation was getting louder now, her French accent stronger, her arms more animated, about whatever it was she was deep in conversation with Martin and Roger about, yet acutely aware of the women behind her back.
‘God, you’ve got to show me some photos. He was tiny when I last saw him!’
‘Yeah, I don’t really do the Instagram thing,’ said Christine, although she had already considered how she was going to artfully announce the secret she was guarding in her womb when it was safe to. Baby scan photo, all going well? Or perhaps Axel in a T-shirt saying ‘big brother’. She tried not to think about it too much. She knew it was a conversation best left unsaid.
