His stomach curled again as he looked at his sleeping son. He was so peaceful. So settled. This might be the honeymoon period. The social worker had told him that Isabel’s death could affect him in a whole host of different ways that might manifest over time.
He squeezed his eyes closed. What if the surgery wasn’t soon enough for April? What if she was already sick and just didn’t know it yet?
His hand kept stroking Finn’s head. He felt physically sick now. Her risk of particular cancers was still higher. Getting rid of her ovaries and fallopian tubes would not be the all-clear. But it would reduce her risk of dying of ovarian cancer by eighty per cent. That was massive. After surgery, it would be about learning to manage the risks.
He wanted to be by her side. He didn’t want her to go through any of this alone.
But what about his son?
He would be making a decision that could leave his son vulnerable. They could both put their hearts on the line, loving someone who could possibly be sick at some point.
It was a risk he was willing to take for himself, but could he really do that for his son?
He sighed and lay down next to Finn. There wasn’t a parenting book in the world that would cover this one.
CHAPTER TEN
‘IS THAT OUR new house?’ Finn’s voice echoed from the back of the car as they pulled up outside.
Riley wanted to smile. He did. Even from here he had a good feeling about this place. ‘Yes, it is.’
Finn waved something from the back of the car. ‘We still have to give this to April, Dad.’
Riley nodded. Finn had made a card at school for April yesterday. It had melted his heart and he just wasn’t sure what to do with it.
‘No problem. We’ll do that later.’
He glanced down at the keys in his hand as his mobile sounded.
His mother had organised things with military precision. The sofa, beds, TV, fridge freezer, washing machine and dryer were all arriving in the next few hours. Money just seemed to have haemorrhaged from his bank account in the last few days. He looked down at the message. It seemed that the engineer would be here in the next hour to connect the Internet and cable TV.
He jumped out of the car and unclipped Finn’s seat belt. ‘Come on, little guy. Let’s go pick a bedroom.’
The rest of the car was jam-packed with bedding, towels and kitchen paraphernalia. He hadn’t even started trying to get their clothes together.
Finn skipped up the path. This was odd. In his head he’d sort of imagined April being next to them when this happened. The key turned easily in the lock and he pushed the door open.
He’d rented this place without even setting foot in it. But it seemed his instincts had been spot on. People always said you knew within thirty seconds if a house was for you or not; Riley didn’t need that long.
They walked from room to room. After army housing the space just seemed enormous. Two people could never fill this place.
His stomach rolled. April’s eyes appeared in his head. The sorrow in them when she’d mentioned this place and how she could imagine it filled in the future.
But although he could see it in a few years, filled with his touches and decorated the way he wanted, he couldn’t imagine the anonymous wife that April could, or the nameless children. The only person he could see here was April.
She’d avoided him the last few days. He knew that. Of course he knew that. And even though she’d insisted he give her some space, his heart wouldn’t really let him comply. He’d sent her a text. And left a phone message. Just saying he was thinking about her. Because he was. And Finn was too. Even if she didn’t want to know that right now.
He didn’t like this distance between them. Every cell in his body told him that it was wrong. But he wanted to respect her request. He didn’t want to force himself and Finn on her if that wasn’t something she could cope with right now.
Because this wasn’t all about him.
The thought sent a memory shooting through him. April, saying almost those exact words to him when they’d sat in the coffee shop together. He hadn’t understood at the time. He’d still been at that jokey, flirty stage then. It seemed like a lifetime ago.
Then there had been that kiss in the garden centre. The one where she’d told him it wasn’t the right time.
She hadn’t been talking about the garden centre at all. She’d been talking about now. Now was not the right time for April. Now he understood—even if he didn’t really agree.
Finn ran up the stairs, darting from room to room. ‘This one—no, this one. No, this one!’
Riley smiled. Finn could have any room he wanted. He walked through to the dining room that looked out over the back garden. A football goal—that was what he could put out there for Finn. The garden was much longer than he’d anticipated. A lawnmower—he’d need to get one. Something he’d never owned and never even considered. Thank goodness it was winter and the grass wasn’t growing. The whole place was covered in snow and ice; it looked like something from a kid’s book.
Somehow things just didn’t feel right. He’d imagined April somewhere in this picture. But she’d made it clear she wasn’t ready for that—and he was trying so hard to respect her wishes right now.
He sighed and turned back to the living room. The large sash windows with internal shutters were exactly what he’d expected in a house like this. His mother had even ordered blinds for the windows, but they wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow.
His mother was doing better than he’d anticipated. He knew she wanted to be here—he knew she wanted to smother Finn. But, for once, she was listening. And giving her a range of tasks to do that would benefit Finn seemed to have played to her strengths. He was starting to appreciate her tenaciousness in a way he’d never imagined.
The previous owner had left a pile of wood next to the fireplace. It made him laugh as the ‘living flame’ fire was actually gas. He walked over and bent down to light it. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the day and the house was warm enough already. He needed some more heat. He wanted the place to seem more cosy. Because right now the emptiness echoed around him.
A white van with green writing pulled up outside. He smiled. Perfect. The most ridiculous thing to do first in the new house. He couldn’t have planned it better.
‘Finn, come on down! The Christmas tree is here,’ he shouted. He’d persuaded the garden centre to delay their delivery until they arrived at the house. Sure enough, the guys were already bringing the boxes with the decorations to the door.
Finn squealed and ran down the stairs, throwing the front door wide to the world and letting the icy-cold air blast in around them.
Riley gave a nod to the delivery guys. ‘Welcome to the mad house,’ he said.
This was going to be a long, long day.
* * *
It was later than she expected. But the last few days April hadn’t been in a hurry to get home from work. So she’d taken a few of the patients down to the gym for an extra session after dinner. They’d started an impromptu game of wheelchair basketball and she’d been dumped out of her chair on at least three occasions.
She knew she was safe. Riley wasn’t working today. This was the day he got the keys to the house. The place that he and Finn would call home.
She wanted to be happy for him. It was a gorgeous house. A perfect place. Her own flat paled in comparison. And she hated that, because she used to love it.
Her stomach gave yet another twinge as she righted the chair and shook herself down. ‘That’s it for me, guys. You’ve finish
ed me.’
They laughed. The camaraderie in here was one of the best parts of the job. Everyone looking out for each other. She was sure if she shared with her colleagues her plans for surgery they would be more than supportive. Of course they would. But it was coming up to Christmas. She didn’t want to have those kinds of chats. Maybe in the New Year when she knew her surgery date she’d start to tell a few people.
The guys left and she finished tidying up the gym before turning the lights out, grabbing her coat and heading for home.
The snow seemed to be heavier yet again. She pulled her hat down over her ears and fastened the top button on her coat.
Her stomach growled. Food. There was little in the fridge. Maybe she should get a takeaway? She groaned. She’d forgotten her purse today. She’d have to go home first and pick it up.
As she pushed her front door open, she almost trod on an envelope that was bright red with squiggly writing on the front. She picked it up. ApRiL. Her heart lurched. It was obviously a child’s writing, a mixture of upper-and lower-case letters, and she could almost imagine Finn’s tongue sticking out at the side of his mouth as he’d tried his hardest at writing. It couldn’t possibly be from anyone else.
She blinked back tears as she pulled the handmade card out of the envelope. There were a few things stuck on the card. A silver foil star. A green, badly cut out tree along with something else in yellow she couldn’t quite distinguish. Baubles were drawn at the edges of the tree in red pencil, and another wiggly blue pencil line snaked up the tree, representing the lights or the tinsel. Her heart gave a tug as she remembered the blue lights that he’d picked.
She opened the card.
To my fiend.
Love Finn
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. She loved the fact he’d missed the R.