LITMIR.BIZ

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But don’t let her put words into your mouth and steer clear of talking about the accident – particularly who might have been to blame. I’ll take Ella out for a walk. I don’t want her involved either.’

      I decided to stay to hear the interview.

      ‘Thanks for agreeing to speak to me,’ Kate said, sipping on the cup of tea Mum had made for her before they sat down in the lounge. Mum was dressed casually, in a navy cardigan and jeans; I noticed she’d applied some lipstick and combed her short dark hair before coming downstairs. I could see she was trying her best to put a brave face on it.

      ‘That’s okay. It only seems right, what with Will being a journalist too.’

      ‘Really? I had no idea. Who did he work for?’

      ‘He used to be a staff reporter on The Times. He was based in London at that point but moved back up north about six years ago and went freelance. He still mainly writes – sorry, wrote – for The Times, but he also did work for other national papers and some magazines. I’m surprised you’ve not heard of him.’

      Kate didn’t get another word in edgeways until she’d been subjected to a gushing, cringeworthy history of my entire career, from my days on a local weekly up to the present. She eventually got the chance to ask a question about my family life. I saw her eyes light up when Mum explained I’d been a single parent; that Ella’s mother was also dead.

      ‘Ah, now we’ve got your interest,’ I said, peering over her shoulder at her shorthand notes. ‘Yes, it’ll make a decent news story. Nothing like a good tragedy to shift a few papers. You never know, it might even make front page.’

      ‘How’s Ella dealing with it?’ Kate asked. ‘I can’t begin to imagine how she must be feeling.’

      I was furious. ‘Don’t give me that fake sympathy shit!’ I shouted. ‘Leave her out of it. She’s just a little girl.’

      Mum shuffled on the couch. ‘I, er, don’t really want to go into that.’

      ‘Of course,’ Kate replied. ‘I understand. What about you and your husband, then? It must have been such an awful shock.’

      Calm down, I told myself, shocked by how easily I’d flown off the handle. It’s okay. Mum can deal with this. The girl’s doing her job, that’s all; I’d have asked exactly the same things.

      ‘Yes,’ Mum whispered. She took several deep breaths before adding: ‘It hasn’t sunk in yet. We’re both still in shock. No one expects to outlive their children. It’s like we’re on autopilot, holding things together for Ella.’

      Once Kate had gleaned all the information she needed to write her story, she asked Mum if there was a picture of me she could borrow to run alongside it. Well, she actually asked for a photo of me with Ella, but Mum had the good sense to say no. She rooted around in her handbag and pulled out a small leather wallet containing snaps of her nearest and dearest. There was an old one of me that I’d never much liked. She stared at it for a moment and I feared she was about to start crying. But after fanning herself and taking some more gasps of air, she held her composure.

      ‘How about this? It’s not that recent, but it’s a nice picture of him. It shows off his lovely blue eyes.’

      ‘Yes, that’ll be ideal.’

      ‘He’d not changed much, apart from a few more grey hairs. They started to come in his twenties. Probably caused by stress. He was handsome, don’t you think?’

      I cringed as Kate was forced to agree.

      ‘You will look after it, won’t you?’ Mum asked her. ‘It’s precious. I need it returned in one piece.’

      ‘Of course. I’ll drop it back in a couple of days, if that’s okay. Thanks ever so much for chatting to me. And sorry again for your loss. I hope everything goes all right with the funeral.’

      ‘Thanks, love. You will make it a nice piece, won’t you? The last thing we need is any more upset.’

      Kate flashed that sympathetic smile of hers again. ‘Of course. The article will be in tomorrow’s paper. It should be on the website too.’

      It was only a few minutes later that Mum and I heard Dad and Ella return from their walk. Ella was in tears.

      ‘What on earth happened?’ Mum asked as we both rushed to the front door.

      Dad had Ella over his left shoulder and, from the way he was out of breath and sweating, he must have carried her some way. His right arm was straining against the pull of Sam on his lead, barking as usual.

      Mum took her granddaughter and lifted her into a hug. She may have been much shorter and thinner than Dad – Little and Large, I often called them – but she’d always been strong and fit. She had apparently been a smoker once, like him, but not for as long as I could remember. She was the healthy one: a pocket dynamo who enjoyed exercise and watched what she ate. Their relationship was definitely a case of opposites attract.

      ‘There, there. Come to Nana. What’s wrong, darling? What’s the matter?’

      ‘She had a bit of a fright, Ann. That’s all. She’ll be fine in a few minutes.’

      ‘What do you mean she had a fright, Tom? Tell me what happened, for goodness’ sake.’

      ‘It’s no big deal. We had a nice walk for the most part. We went down by the old railway line so Sam could have a run off his lead. Then we walked back along the main road. Unfortunately, we witnessed a bit of a prang. One car caught the side of another as it was pulling out from a parking space. No one was hurt, but it was all rather noisy and, well, it clearly reminded Ella of—’

      ‘Yes, yes. I’m not stupid, thank you. What were you thinking, taking her along the main road? Come on, Ella. Let’s go and have a nice sit-down in the lounge. Grandad will get you a drink. Would you like some juice?’

      Ella nodded through her tears.

      ‘Did you hear that, Grandad? And can you please put Sam in the back garden. I don’t know why he’s barking so much. He’s been like this ever since we brought him here.’

      ‘That’ll be my fault,’ I said as I watched Mum try to comfort Ella. ‘It’s all my fault. Please don’t cry, Ella. It’s okay. Daddy’s here.’ But she couldn’t hear me; I was still hidden from her. I wanted so badly to take her into my arms and wipe away her tears. This was torture. It was breaking my heart. I determined that when she was next on her own, I would do my utmost to try to get through to her.

      My opportunity didn’t come until she was in bed that night. After she’d had a bath and a book, Mum tucked her in and gave her a kiss goodnight.

      ‘Do you feel like you want to talk about anything before you go to sleep?’ Mum asked.

      ‘No. I’m okay.’

      ‘Well, any time you want to talk – especially about your daddy – I’m right here for you. Grandad is too. You know that, don’t you?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Goodnight, my love. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.’

      Ella shook her head, a sad look on her face. That was what I always used to say to her at bedtime. I guess I learned it from hearing it myself as a boy.

      As Mum got up to leave, Ella jerked upright. ‘Is my nightlight on, Nana?’

      ‘Yes, dear. We put it on together before I read you a story. You’ll see it when I turn the main light off.’

      ‘And the landing light? You won’t switch it off, will you? Daddy always lets me have it on. I don’t like the dark.’

      ‘Don’t worry. We’ll leave it on for you.’

      ‘All night?’

      ‘All night.’

      Once

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