LITMIR.BIZ

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school, right?’ she says.

      I nod. He came around last night to collect her bag after she’d gone to bed.

      ‘It’s only for ten days. She’ll have a wonderful time with her daddy and it’s good that his parents are on hand to help.’

      I pull away. The thought of Sean, Rose’s father, playing Daddy with her on holiday in some all-inclusive resort in the Canaries doesn’t fill me with the joy everyone seems to expect. He doesn’t even really know her; doesn’t know that she likes mini-yogurts after dinner; doesn’t know that she wakes up three nights a week calling for her mummy; doesn’t know that she likes to choose her own clothes every day; doesn’t know that she needs cuddles at night to help her sleep. He knows none of this.

      ‘He doesn’t even know her.’ I say it aloud.

      ‘He’s trying. Even before Anna died—’

      My head snaps around. ‘Don’t.’

      ‘I’m just trying to point out that you and Anna together were a force of nature. Let him be her father, Jess. Rose is going to need him too.’

      I wrap my arms around myself.

      ‘Let’s go for breakfast,’ she says.

      ‘No.’ I will her to stop talking, wonder why she’s not already on her way to work.

      ‘I’m sorry.’ She knows what she’s done. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’

      ‘You shouldn’t.’ No one. No one is allowed to say that Anna is dead. No one. I don’t care if it’s denial. I don’t care if the chances of her being alive are nonexistent. I have no body to bury.

      Leah reaches out, wraps her arms around my neck. ‘I’m sorry,’ she repeats. ‘Today of all days, that was insensitive.’

      ‘I miss her so much,’ I whisper softly, then bite my bottom lip so hard that I taste metal.

      ‘I know,’ she says, her squeeze lingering, her grip unusually tight on my sleeve. ‘I’m here. I love you.’

      I don’t tell her that it’s not enough.

      ‘Breakfast?’ she repeats.

      ‘What in Christ’s name am I going to do?’ I ask on the way back to our cars.

      Leah shrugs. ‘Just keep breathing in and out.’

      ‘That’s it? That’s your advice?’

      ‘You don’t—’

      ‘I don’t what? Tell me, Leah. What is it I’m not doing? You have no bloody clue.’

      I walk away yelling behind me, ‘I don’t want breakfast. If you hurry you can catch the nine ten to Waterloo.’

      ‘Jess, stop. Wait.’

      I’m already in the car, strapping myself in. She doesn’t get it. She has never had children, and it has left her remote, detached from real life. As the engine revs into life and her form disappears in the rear-view mirror, I justify leaving her there in my head, even though I know I shouldn’t have. I curse myself. She’s doing her best. We all are, but Leah doesn’t know what unconditional love is. Leah doesn’t know how the pain of a missing child takes over and has a heartbeat of its own.

      I drive the short journey from the school to home, and when I get there try to busy myself with housework. On the way upstairs, I pass by a pile of Anna’s shoes in the hall. They’re stacked on top of one another. There are heels and flats all lumped in together – a knee-length suede, high-heeled boot embraces a brown brogue. I don’t touch them. I’m afraid if I touch them, even move them to her room, that she won’t come home. So, I leave them there. I try to forget all the times I shouted at her to remove her pile of crap from the front door. That’s what I called them, these things of Anna’s – a pile of crap.

      In Rose’s room, I hoover the floor, which is covered in glitter from the birthday card she made. I strip her bed, find a few pieces of Lego in the sheets, and toss them into a large box underneath. Her scent lingers on the bedding and, as I make my way downstairs to the washing machine, past Anna’s mound of shoes, I inhale it.

      Downstairs, my phone vibrates a message from Theo. A firm friend since we worked together over ten years ago, he’s someone I know I can trust with my mood today.

       ‘Happy Birthday’ seems all wrong. Costa at 12? X

      I read his text and consider saying no. Theo’s probably just on an hour’s break from the surgery, and I should probably be more mindful of my state affecting another. But the thought of a long and lonely birthday stretching before me stops me doing the right thing.

      It’s exactly midday and he is there first, two coffees already in front of him, sitting in the booth to the rear of the café, our usual perch for putting the world to rights. The scent of crushed, bitter coffee beans fills the air. It pokes a memory of the day Anna went missing, the day of the Christmas fair.

      ‘Before I sit down,’ I say. ‘One thing …’

      Theo’s eyebrows stretch.

      ‘I don’t want to talk about my birthday.’

      The stretch reaches further, creasing his forehead.

      ‘Theo?’ I refuse to sit down until he agrees.

      ‘Okay.’ He pushes a coffee to the opposite side of the table from him and I slide into the booth. ‘So,’ he says. ‘How’re you coping with the fact that today is Anna’s birthday?’

      My eyes close slowly.

      ‘What?’ he says. ‘You told me not to mention your birthday. You never said anything about not mentioning hers.’

      I pretend he hasn’t spoken, take a sip of the coffee, make a face, then swap it. ‘Sugar,’ is all I say.

      I want to talk but can’t. I want to cry, but only seem to be able to do it in my sleep. An empty but easy silence falls between us. It’s like that with us sometimes. We’ve been friends for such a long time that the quiet doesn’t scare us. Theo rubs his nose with the back of his hand.

      ‘It’s no easier,’ I finally speak. ‘I swear. Some days – it’s everything I can do to breathe.’ I’m reminded when I hear these words aloud how badly I behaved to Leah. ‘That line about time healing isn’t true,’ I tell Theo. ‘All lies. Time doesn’t heal.’

      ‘It will. Days like today will always be the worst.’

      My head shakes. ‘Today’s bad. Yesterday was worse – the apprehension … It’s like physical pain and it’s all over, every muscle, every nerve ending in my body.’ I grip the handle on the coffee mug so tightly that my knuckles whiten. ‘Before … birthdays, sharing the day together, it was such a special thing, as if she always knew that she was the best birthday present I ever got.’

      He sips his coffee, his silence letting me know he gets it, then deftly changes the subject.

      ‘Are you doing anything tonight?’

      ‘Dinner at Leah’s. Gus is cooking,’ I tell him. ‘But I’ll see how I feel. I’m not sure I’ll go.’

      ‘You look like you could do with a hug.’

      My eyes dart around our local Costa. ‘No thanks, you’re all right. Granted you’re separated, but you’ve probably got half a dozen patients in here and you’re still a married man.’

      ‘Hmmm,’ he says.

      ‘What does “Hmmm” mean?’

      ‘Nothing. We’re here to talk about you. You want something to eat? You should eat. You’re all skin and bone.’

      I refuse food. ‘How’s Finn doing?’ I have found it hard since Harriet walked out on their marriage to understand

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