Читать книгу: «The Fire House on Honeysuckle Street», страница 3
He looked across at Lucy, but she was sound asleep.
‘Say goodbye to them for me?’ he asked, feeling foolish, and a little cheated that he didn’t get to tell her it himself. He wanted to see her again, feel her eyes on him.
‘I will, love. I’m sure you’ll see her soon enough.’
As Sam watched the women drive off, he was pretty sure that Grace meant every word, and seemed to know that what she said would come true. He had a feeling that some of these villagers might be a bit of a handful. Throwing his holdall over his shoulder and grabbing his suitcase handle, he headed inside to the fire station to start his new career.
Chapter 4
Grace drove up the small lane where the holiday cottages sat like pearls threaded on a necklace. It was beautiful here, even more beautiful than Lucy remembered from her childhood. She used to come up here for long summers as a child, no bigger than her son was now. Not much had changed at all, and she felt happier just being here. Grace pulled the car in side by side with the other, and Lucy spotted Xander, sitting in the back seat, headphones on. No doubt he was watching his movie all over again. He seemed settled, so she got out of the car and headed up the path to the cottage with the wide open front door.
The smell of fresh flowers assaulted her nostrils, and she looked around at the neat and gorgeous gardens. The cottages were in lines of twos, hugging each other in little couples along the small country lanes. There was no car next door in the little drive at the front of the house, and Lucy felt relieved that there would be no neighbours, for today at least. Marlene came out of the front door and, seeing her, grinned broadly.
‘Lucy dear, it’s lovely in here. Just the ticket for you both. I left Xander in the car, will he be okay?’
Lucy looked at her son, who hadn’t moved a muscle.
‘He’ll be okay, he’ll come out when he wants to.’
Marlene nodded, motioning for her to come inside. After walking past the blooming flowers that ran around the edges of the green grass in neat beds, she passed by a lavender bush by the front door, and walked through the painted mint green door. The smell of bleach hit her as she walked in, and she wasn’t surprised to see Marlene scrubbing the sink, Marigolds on, cloth in hand.
‘It’s not dirty, the whole place is spotless really, I just love a bleached sink.’
Lucy nodded, going to open the window and putting it on the latch.
‘Xander’s not so keen on the smell, it bothers him.’ She looked through the window and saw that he was still sitting in the car, Dot now sitting in the passenger seat, book in hand. She waved her away, motioning to her that everything was fine. Lucy waved back.
‘Sorry,’ Marlene was saying. ‘We did ask at the library, but they don’t really have any books on the subject. If we do something wrong, let us know love, we want to help.’
Lucy felt the familiar burn of rage in the pit of her stomach.
‘He’s autistic, not stupid or difficult.’
She spat the words out, looking out of the window at the pretty garden to stop herself from saying anything else. The water started running behind her, and she heard the swish of the cloth as her auntie kept cleaning.
‘We know that, dear, but we are trying. The last thing we want is to upset him. We didn’t have it in my day, dear. Well, I’m sure that we did, but we just didn’t know about it like we do now. Us old bids were just trying to be down with the kids.’
Lucy turned to look at her.
‘I know, I’m sorry. It’s been a rough day.’
Marlene nodded, pulling off her gloves and placing them on the stainless steel draining board.
‘Did you tell him, before you left?’
Lucy swallowed, thinking of the phone call on the train.
‘He went to work early. I spoke to him on the train but it didn’t seem like the right time to tell him. I left a note, at home.’
She thought of her plush house back home, immaculate as always, the show house of his dreams. She had left everything neat and tidy, including the envelope she left on the kitchen island telling him that she was leaving him, to spend time with her family and think things through.
‘Did he really deserve that, Luce?’ Marlene asked. ‘I know that things have been hard, but does he deserve to come home from work to that?’
‘He barely comes home at all. I’ll be amazed if he even sees the note.’
Marlene pursed her lips, but said nothing.
‘I put your bags in the master bedroom, so Dot and I will leave you to it. We have yoga at the community centre this afternoon anyway. We put some food in the fridge, but you might want to do some shopping soon. If you need a sitter, let us know.’
Lucy nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She heard the door open behind her, and the waft of lavender filled the kitchen. She could hear the women speaking to Xander, and car doors open and close. She headed to the front door, and watched her little boy carry his belongings into the house. He wrinkled his nose at the smell.
‘It’s just cleaning smells that’s all. Do you like the house?’
Xander looked around him at the cosy cream kitchen, the dining room table set for two, fresh pink peonies in a little vase on the table.
‘It’s different from home,’ he said, his voice flat. ‘It’s not as shiny.’ Thinking back to her state-of-the-art kitchen, she laughed a little to herself.
‘It is; it’s a country look, more wood than shiny surfaces.’
Xander walked around the space, staying clear of the kitchen sink, and touched the surface of the wooden table.
‘I like it. It’s smaller. Can we see my room now?’
Lucy smiled, pointing to the stairs.
‘Lead the way, little man.’
Xander ran up the stairs, dumping his bag on the table before he went. There were no special hidden cupboards here to stash life away in. She looked at the backpack, and felt a wave of relief rush over her. Maybe, just maybe, this would all turn out for the best.
‘Mum, come look!’
‘I’m coming!’ she said, kicking off her shoes and racing up the stairs.
It was late by the time Sam had eventually said goodbye to the lads at the fire station. As soon as he had walked through the door, the thought of the woman on the train fresh in his head, he had been dragged in and made to feel welcome. Chief Briggs was a burly man, his moustache the only tiny thing about him, a whisper of a thick bristle seemingly stencilled on his broad face.
Being lunchtime, the men were all sitting at the large scratched wood table, chatting and laughing away. Norman was at the stove, dishing out plates of hot chilli on baked potatoes. Sam’s stomach gurgled.
‘Come on in,’ Danesh said, pointing to a clear space at the table. ‘You eat meat, right?’
Alan patted him hard on the back.
‘A man this size? Of course he does!’
‘Er, actually no, I don’t. Not much anyway. More chicken, eggs. I tend to stay away from red meat.’
He waited for the usual explosion of what? why? how? but none came.
Alan shrugged. ‘Ah well, more for me, Dan!’ He took a seat at the head of the table, and Danesh placed a steaming plate in front of him. Danesh returned to the cooker, taking the lid off a different pot.
‘Here’s yours.’ He spooned some chilli onto a huge baked potato. ‘Meat free chilli, Norm’s spesh. It’s pretty good, but hold judgement till you’ve had it three times in one week.’ Norman jabbed him in the side, and he laughed.
‘Cheeky bugger, you love my cooking!’
Danesh groaned. ‘Love, really? It’s a strong word, Norm.’
Norman flicked his tea towel at Danesh as he headed to the table, putting a plate in front of Sam.
‘Thanks,’ he said gratefully, and Danesh sat down next to him.
‘So,’ Norman called, turning off the heat on the stove and coming to sit down. ‘What made you come up here from London?’
Sam took a bite of his food and his whole body embraced the flavour. Proper food for once.
‘Nice,’ he said to Norman, pointing to his plate. ‘I came for the job really, a change of pace.’
Danesh guffawed, slicing his potato up into smaller pieces.
‘Well, you’ll get that here, we don’t get much action. You must have seen some things in your time.’
Sam thought of the call-outs he had had recently, back home, and nodded slowly.
‘A few, yes. What have you got on today?’
‘We have the rigs to clean out, and the general station maintenance. We need to get things ready for the summer crowds, and the holiday lets will all need checking over. We do things differently up here, Sam, as you might have gathered from your shifts.’
Sam nodded once, not feeling the need to answer any further. He knew what the job was, and it suited him just fine, for now at least.
‘Agatha’s on the warpath again too; she’s coming down later. Something about the Langthwaite Farm and a bull.’
Norman groaned. ‘Christ, can’t she just call Ben at the veterinary surgery and get him on the case? The poor lad is obviously just trying to get his leg over; Old Man Langthwaite just needs to set him to work.’
Alan shook his head. ‘Reg has been showing him to the females, but the bull is just not interested. It keeps jumping the fences to get onto Agatha’s land. I think he fancies Archie’s new cow.’
‘Wow,’ Danesh quipped. ‘Quite the dairy disaster, eh?’
Alan gave him a look that could curdle milk. ‘Anyway, we’ll have to speak to Agatha, she’ll not rest till she gets her way.’ Sam finished his food, feeling very intrigued as to what kind of woman Agatha was that she could get a fire station full of burly blokes quaking into their safety boots.
Sam had hung around for the rest of the shift, filling in his paperwork, picking out a bunk and helping out where he could. Or where Alan would let him at least.
Chapter 5
Lucy woke up with a sharp pain in her back, like someone was trying to poke something through her spinal column. Wincing, she rolled over to her side, reaching behind her to move whatever piece of office crap Iain had left on the bed. Opening her eyes, she froze. She wasn’t in her bed, or at home. The events from the day before came screaming back to her in a flurry, making her groan loudly and fall back on to her bed. The sharp object stabbed her again, making her jump up to a sitting position, bolt upright.
‘Muuummm!’ Xander moaned behind her. ‘You crushed Bobba Fett!’ He pushed her arm away, reaching under her to pull out his beloved toy. ‘Grrr!’
He growled loudly, a sure sign that he was both upset and angry. He used to do it all the time as a toddler, unable at the time to verbalise his feelings. She felt a wave of nostalgia so strong that she half expected to see a toddler staring back at her when she looked back.
‘Sorry, poppet,’ she said softly, holding her hands out palms up. Xander eyed her warily, looking from her face to the toy with its now separate arm.
‘Be careful, Mummy,’ he said, giving her a final glare before placing the pieces into her waiting hands. She grinned at him, blowing an errant strand of light brown hair out of her eye line.
‘I think you know by now, my darling son, that I—’ she put the arm back on with ease, making Bobba wave at him ‘—am a master builder.’
Xander pressed his cute little lips together tight, but she could see he was dying to laugh.
‘All fixed!’ She grabbed him, pulling him closer to her. ‘Cuddle for Mummy!’ He squealed, grabbing Bobba tight to his chest, before turning and setting him down on the bedside table.
‘Cuddle fort?’ he asked, and she nodded.
‘Cuddle fort it is!’ She pulled him close, his little PJs smelling of the fabric softener she washed his clothes in. He snuggled tight into her, his nose inches from hers. She covered the quilt over them both, stacking the pillows to make a tent of sorts. He nestled closer to her, and she held him tight.
‘Did you sleep well?’ she asked, looking into the eyes that were so like her own – a bright blue that made his dark, thick lashes all the more striking against his pale skin. Marlene had them too.
‘Yep, my room’s nice. It’s empty, I like it like that. I need my Lego from home though, I don’t have enough. Will Dad bring it?’
Lucy winced, thinking of home. Iain would have noticed they were missing by now. He was due to have his golf weekend, but he wasn’t leaving till that night. She wondered if he would still go. Would he have called Marlene? She knew her aunt wouldn’t lie to him, it wasn’t in her nature.
‘Well, you remember I said we were coming here for the holidays, and we made that holiday scrapbook to bring? That means we won’t be going home for a while yet. We have to leave what we didn’t bring at home, till we need it.’
‘I need it now,’ he whined. ‘I need more Lego! I can’t do nothing, my brain won’t let me.’
Her mouth curled up at one side, a slight grin showing. She ruffled his hair gently, and touched her nose to his. He let her, and stared right at her, just as she had taught him.
‘We will have a lovely summer here, and have lots of things to do and see … your brain won’t have to be doing nothing. I’ll tell you what, you pick some Lego from Mummy’s phone, and when it arrives, we can build it together.’
‘Will Daddy bring it?’
‘We’ll get it delivered to our cottage, but we might even see something in town. We are going exploring today, remember, from the calendar?’
Before they had left, she had bought a calendar for the wall, and gone through with Xander the dates and plans that she knew they had, to prepare him. Many days were blanks, and she feared these days more than the ones with her loopy handwriting filling the squares. These were the days where she would feel lost, guilty with a dash of panic. Xander feared them too, the difference to his routine being so huge already. They both had a mistrust of the unknown, but here they were, together. She had a flash of memory. Xander, standing by the pool, screaming. Iain standing over him, shouting and demanding. Holiday-makers, openly gawping at the resort’s prize exhibit. She pushed the thought away, willing it to dispel from her brain, riding the bolt of ice water she felt zipping down her spine. This would be a better holiday. It had to be.
‘Breakfast first though, Mummy,’ Xander checked.
‘Yes, my darling. Breakfast. I think holiday pancakes are in order.’
Xander’s nose scrunched up. ‘Ordered from who?’
Marlene bustled into A New Lease of Life and flopped down on the chair that Grace had her leg on, shunting it to one side.
‘Hey, my knee hurts you know!’
Marlene shot her a look. ‘Don’t moan, woman, it never stopped you doing samba last night, did it? Thrusting your hips at a man half your age, I ask you, where’s the dignit—arrgghh!’
She rubbed her left bottom cheek as Grace stuck her tongue out at her, her needle flicking back to her work after a successful stabbing. Marlene narrowed her eyes, looking around her quickly before opening her mouth.
‘You do that again, woman, and I’ll tell everyone about you and Ted Wilson, you see if I don’t.’
Grace jumped forward, horror etched on her face.
‘You promised!’ She hissed. ‘Since 1974 you have held that over me, you buzzard!’
‘Buzzard?’ Marlene frowned, before realisation set in. Followed by anger. ‘You mean vulture, you bloody wizened old crow!’
Grace jabbed her wool-free knitting needle out in front of her menacingly.
‘Crow! Crow? I’ll stab you in the throat, you blackmailing witch!’
‘Ladies, ladies, please!’ Amanda, owner of the shop, and proud host of the Westfield Craft Club, pushed the two ladies gently back into their seats, prising Grace’s needle from her white knuckles and placing it behind the counter. ‘You can have this back when you stop trying to attempt ABH, okay?’
Grace opened her mouth to object, but thought better of it. Instead she mouthed ‘you’re dead’ at Marlene, who ignored her.
‘How are you, Marlene?’ Amanda asked, putting a tray of tea together, and arranging some biscuits on a plate. ‘Did you get the brandy snaps for Agatha?’
Marlene reached into her bag, producing a posh-looking pack.
‘Yep, although why she can’t just eat Malted Milk like the rest of us is anyone’s guess.’
The door opened, the tinkle of the bell heralding someone’s arrival.
‘Guess what?’ Dot said, striding in with her bags. ‘It is rather glorious out there today, I had a lovely long walk here. I’m at 6,000 steps already!’ She waggled her wrist at them all, her red fitness band’s screen lit up.
‘Agatha’s posh biscuit demands, that’s guess what. Six thousand is nothing, I’ve smashed my target.’
Dot looked at Grace suspiciously. ‘How did you beat me? You came in the car, didn’t you?’ She looked outside the shop, at Baker Street, where Grace’s car was parked near the pavement. Marlene, still incensed at the stabbing incident, joined in.
‘Yes, Grace, how did you do that?’
Grace pushed her remaining needle into her wool ball, and dropped it into her bag.
‘I just did, I’m a very busy woman.’
The two women’s gazes centred in on her wrists. Amanda started laughing, setting down the tea tray on the table in front of them and heading back to her workstation. She was used to these ladies coming into her business and taking over. Today was an average day. Quiet even. Dot suddenly inhaled sharply, pointing excitedly.
‘It’s on your dominant knitting arm! You bloody well cheated! Stitches are not steps, Grace!’
Grace poured a china cup full of tea, the smell filling the shop with a homely aroma.
‘Tell that to the app. I bet I’ll win weekday warrior this week.’
Dot, who always won the weekday warrior challenge, was furious. ‘By cheating and sitting on your fat arse, yeah!’
The ladies all spoke to each other at once, the decibels increasing as they tried to get their points across, shouting to be heard over each other. Their cacophony of noise drowned out the shop bell.
‘You can’t win every week, it’s not fair on the rest of us!’
‘It’s a competition, Grace, you don’t just get to win for nothing because it’s your turn! I walk every inch of this village, so if I win, I win on merit!’
‘Er, hello?’ A quiet voice could be heard, but only Amanda looked at the shop doorway.
‘You always did have to win, didn’t you? You were always the same, even when we worked together.’
‘Hello?’
‘Oh here we go!’
“Yeah, let her have it!”
‘Hi,’ Amanda said finally, moving through the shop and reaching out her hand. Lucy stepped forward, Xander gripping her other arm, and shook Amanda’s hand. ‘Ignore the ladies here, they will settle down soon.’ She turned to Xander, leaning forward, hands on her knees to get on the same level. ‘And hello, young sir. May I interest you in some cake, and a glass of juice?’
His eyes opened wide at the mention of cake. Cake was one of Xander’s horcruxes. Cake, Lego and superheroes. Not necessarily in that order. The boy was obsessed, and his obsessions were all-consuming at times. Lucy still knew all the names of the dinosaurs from the Cretaceous period, including half of the Latin ones, from having picked them up over the years, when his dino love was in full flow. She could go on Mastermind with that specialist subject, and feel completely at ease. Xander had learned all there was to know about the subject, and then moved on. Now it was all superheroes and Lego. Which was a real hardship to Lucy. Really, she did suffer. It was cruel really, this parenting lark. From learning about extinct scaly creatures to having to watch every superhero franchise movie, complete with half-naked sex gods? Parenting was indeed very tricky sometimes, but she did grin and bear it. Especially when poor Thor lost his long hair. That was terrible. She didn’t get any cleaning done that day, that’s for sure.
Amanda leaned in a little further, as though she was sharing a secret.
‘Come with me to the counter, and I’ll cut you the biggest piece.’
Xander nodded slowly, a happy smile crossing his features, and Lucy watched as he let go of her hand and trotted along behind the lady. He really was anybody’s for a slice of cake. She pushed down the mild thought of terror that sprang to her throat when she thought about that simple truth, and shook herself out of it. The ladies were all still sniping at each other, Grace mumbling something about a needle weapon, so she walked forward and sat down in an empty wooden chair next to her aunt.
‘Hello!’ Marlene seemed to start a little when she noticed her, and the conversation stopped, turning to cheery hellos. The women transformed before her eyes from the cast of Hocus Pocus to something from The Darling Buds of May. In a split second they were all sitting contritely, arms clasped together on their laps, looking straight at her. Great, she thought, panicking slightly and looking longingly at the door. Here comes the inquisition.
‘So, did you sleep well?’
‘I did thanks. We both did actually.’
‘Lovely,’ Marlene said, holding up the pot in question. Lucy nodded and watched the steaming hot tea pour into the cute china cup and saucer. Looking around the shop, she could see why the ladies raved about it. It was like a home from home; little corners full of interesting trinkets and pieces of furniture, with the tables front and centre for people to come in, have a cuppa, do their hobbies in company. She couldn’t imagine coming to one of these herself, back home. Perhaps she should have done, made more effort to get out of the house once in a while. She knew why she hadn’t though. being in public meant dealing with people, and the human race loved to revel in the differences of others.
‘Everything okay back home?’ asked Grace, never one to shy away from an awkward question.
‘Fine thanks,’ Lucy replied, in as neutral a voice as possible. ‘It’s nice to get away, have a break.’
Grace nodded slowly, before looking out of the window. ‘Agatha’s not coming till later, so how come Taylor’s here?’
Amanda groaned loudly, distracting Xander momentarily, who was sitting at a table beside her, chewing on a huge doorstep-sized piece of red velvet cake.
‘He’s here on official Mayweather business, for the wife. Christenings, and the seasonal run-up. Agatha’s bugging all the shop owners. Once the Austen open air event is done, she’s like a dog with a bone.’ The door opened, and she hushed immediately. Sebastian Taylor, dapper as ever, even in his relaxed checked shirt and jeans, strode in, a clipboard under his arm and a lazy grin on his face. Lucy smiled back at him, and his grin widened in response. She couldn’t help it, the man just seemed to shoot Valium into the shop space. She sneaked a peek at the other ladies, and saw similar expressions. The man was like a walking tranquilliser.
‘Been shooting eh, Tex?’ Dot quipped, and Lucy looked at her in confusion. Dot nodded to his feet. ‘Cowboy boots. I swear, since you got wed, I think your dress sense has gotten worse, not better.’
‘Hey!’ Taylor stuck his lip out. ‘Don’t knock my cowboy boots, they’re good for riding.’
Lucy heard her son gasp behind her, and turned automatically to see what was wrong. Xander was staring at the boots too, a look of awe on his cute little face.
‘You’re really a cowboy?’
Taylor chuckled. ‘I wish, lad. I drive a car to get around, and I don’t shoot bad guys. I do ride horses though, is that cowboy enough?’
Xander seemed to mull it over at some length, and Taylor just stood there, waiting as though he had all the time in the world. Lucy wanted to hug him.
‘Not really, no, but I won’t tell the real cowboys.’
That got another laugh from Taylor, and the ladies laughed along with him.
‘Okay, thanks very much.’ Taylor walked forward to the table, but instead of sitting down, he knelt to a crouch at the side of the boy. Holding out his hand, he offered a handshake. ‘I’m Taylor, what’s your name?’
Xander shook his hand immediately, so hard that Taylor’s hand banged on the table a couple of times. If it hurt, Taylor didn’t acknowledge it.
‘I’m Xander Iain Walsh, pleased to meet you.’ He pointed to his mother. ‘That’s my mum Lucy, we’ve come on holiday for the summer. Dad stayed home for work.’
‘Ah well, we are glad you came, Xander. Tell me, have you ever been on a horse?’
Xander shook his head. ‘I tried to go on a donkey once, at the seaside, but I didn’t like it. It pooped on the sand.’
Taylor chuckled again. ‘Well, if you ever do want to be a cowboy for a day, let me know, and I will show you our ponies.’ He looked across at Lucy, and she found herself nodding, despite her misgivings. This summer was all about Xander, so if he wanted to ride a pony, he would ride a damn pony. ‘Great, so, Amanda, can I borrow you for a minute?’ He brandished the clipboard with an apologetic grin, and Amanda eye-rolled him into the back room.
The ladies all waited till the door closed behind them, then leant forward, closer to Lucy.
‘If Agatha tries to rope you in, just shrug it off, tell her you are here on holiday, and far too busy to help. Taylor’s married to her, and Amanda is like family. They are already damned, but we can save you.’ Dot patted the hands on her lap. ‘Honestly, she will accept it if you are firm.’
Grace snorted. ‘Like you were, about the community centre bake sale? My fingers are still sore from mixing all those ruddy cupcakes!’ She pointed out of the shop window, eyes focusing on Lucy. ‘I tell ya, that woman was a menace. We all said no, that we were busy, but did she listen? Did she ’eckers! Then, come the day, she springs a bloody cupcake competition on us and stands there dissing our work! She was like Simon Cowell on acid.’
Marlene smoothed down her jumper. ‘I didn’t think she was that bad.’
Dot guffawed. ‘Of course you didn’t, you ruddy well won!’
Marlene pulled a happy face at Lucy. ‘I know.’ She stage-whispered the rest. ‘I just like you lot remembering that important fact.’
Grace looked around the room. ‘Whatever, Nigella, where is my blinking needle?’
Marlene shrank away from her, her hand covering her rump protectively.
‘Well, I think we shall be off, anyway.’ Lucy stood to leave, her duty being done. Her aunt had asked her to come, and be friendly, and she had. Xander was still at the table, holding his fork midair with the last piece of cake on.
‘Noo, my cake!’
Lucy headed over to him, ruffling his hair as she always did.
‘Finish it up, then we can have a look for some Lego.’
Dot frowned. ‘I’m not sure you’ll get any round here, honey. You might have to order it in.’
Lucy’s heart sank. She thought as much.
‘Shall we order it online then, Xander, and have a look around the shops anyway?’
She passed him her phone, but when she looked back he was frowning.
‘It’s saying that we can’t go online, Mum.’
Shit. The SIM Card. He was frowning at the screen, jabbing away at the buttons.
‘Mum, it’s not working. Does that mean Dad can’t call us?’
Lucy felt the air in the shop change, and the conversation trickle to a stop. Xander was now looking up at her, his eyes wide open and focusing on her. It was his anxious face, an expression she knew so well. She licked her lips, trying to get them moist, looking around her at the women, but they were studiously pretending not to be listening, fiddling with their crafts, rummaging in their bags.
‘Xander,’ she started, coming to sit in the chair next to him. ‘Mummy and Daddy love you very much, and Daddy is working hard at home while we are on holiday. Mummy and Daddy had a little bit of a fight, and so I got cross and took something out of my phone to stop it working. I’m sorry. Shall we see if we can get a new number while we are shopping?’
Xander still had his worried face on, and she gave him the time he needed to process what she was saying. The ladies were all speaking in hushed voices now, and Lucy could feel her face flushing as her dirty laundry was aired out in front of them. God knows what they thought of her! She didn’t even know why she had done it herself. She just remembered sitting on that train, wanting to protect her son from the world, if only for a few weeks. She wanted to protect him from the kids at his school, who picked on him, laughed at him. Called him names. She wanted to get away from the stares he got in shops when he couldn’t cope with his senses. Most of all, she wanted to protect him from his father. And that was what hurt most of all.
‘Mum, are you not listening to me? Can’t you just put the thing back in? Dad could send us the Lego then, from my room.’
Lucy sighed, and pulled herself out of the chair.
‘Let’s go get a new SIM Card and see about ordering that Lego. Goodbye, ladies!’ She gave a cheery wave that she did not feel and motioned for her son to follow her. He stood up and went to follow, but then, almost as an afterthought, he returned to his plate and proceeded to dip his face right into it, licking all the crumbs off with his cute little pink tongue.
‘Xander,’ she whispered, trying to get his attention. ‘Love, what did we talk about?’
She turned to the women, who were all looking at the little boy, and automatically started to explain. What she didn’t expect, however, was the look on their faces. There was no judgement there, just amusement. Marlene was even laughing a little as he made his way around the plate, getting every little bit of cream cheese frosting off it and into his mouth.
‘Sorry, he has a thing about dirt, but he will always lick his plate clean when there is cake involved.’
Xander finished and put the plate down on the counter.
‘I’m autistic – we don’t like change, but we love cake!’
Lucy’s eyes bulged. Marlene looked just as shocked. Xander’s autism wasn’t something they hid, but Xander himself never referred to it. Maybe time apart from home was going to be worth all the grief she would get when she went back. It wasn’t anything to hide after all, so why had they?
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