They always say it's too far away but really I think my mum doesn't like her mum, Kate said abruptly. I think she was not very nice to her or something. The others looked at her. Anyway I've finished now anyway, she said, passing the green pen to Becky and sitting back in her chair.
Let me see let me see, said Rachel, pulling Kate's piece of paper across the table and looking at it for a moment before passing it back. It's nice but it doesn't look like a tree much, she said. Kate gasped.
Yeah it does, she said loudly. Yeah it does, it looks more like a tree than yours does, yours is all a funny shape, look, it looks stupid.
Looks more like a tree than yours does, Rachel insisted; your drawing's even more bad than Lisa's is so there. Kate threw a felt-tip at Rachel, and stuck her tongue out, and then smiled.
I thought you wanted to come to my birthday, she said. Becky, who'd been keeping out of things by concentrating on colouring in the leaves of her tree, looked up and smiled as well. Rachel looked at them both.
Yeah I did but I don't now, because it's going to be boring anyway, she said.
No it's not, said Kate, smiling to herself.
Yeah it is, Rachel repeated. Who are you inviting anyway then, she said, her voice wavering a little; I bet you're inviting Paul because I bet you fancy him, everyone knows.
No I don't! Kate shrieked, and then all three of them looked up at the ceiling as they heard a steady thump-thump-thump from the room above.
Who's that? Becky whispered, as all three of them ducked back down over their work.
My mum, said Kate. She's in bed. We were supposed to be quiet and not wake her up. She looked pointedly at Rachel as she said this, as if it was all her fault.
What's she doing in bed? said Rachel. Is she working nights?
No, Kate said. She's ill, she's got a cold or something like that. Have you finished yet Becky? I want to go out now.
Yeah, said Rachel, this is boring.
Nearly, said Becky, as the other two started putting the lids back on the pens. Give me a chance, you were hogging the green for ages.
David closed the back door loudly, and the girls looked up as he appeared in the kitchen doorway.
All done? he said, smiling at them; how did you get on?
There was a pause as each girl waited for the other to speak.
Alright, Kate said eventually. We're finished now, can we go out? David stood over the table, looking at each of the family trees.
These look really good, he said. Did you all manage to fit everyone in? Kate nodded; the other girls shrugged.
Yeah and we've finished now Dad, Kate said, tucking all the pens back into their plastic pouch. Can we go out?
David backed away, raising his hands. Sorry, he said. Pardon me for taking an interest. Of course you can go out - where are you going?
Park, Kate said as they all stood up.
Well, make sure you cross at the crossing, David said. Bye girls, he added, as the three of them slipped out through the door.
Bye Mr Carter, they mumbled back.
Say hello to your parents for me, he added, but the front door was already closing and they were gone.
47 Envelopes w/Aberdeen postmarks, occasional 1984-2000
A letter came for him at the museum. It was from Donald, Eleanor's brother, with a photograph of his eldest son's first baby, and a short note saying when he'd been born and how much he weighed and that the mother and father were doing fine. It is strange to find myself a grandfather already, the note said, and young Eleanor a great aunt too. But we are none of us getting any younger.
Where did he get the address from? Eleanor asked when he showed her, putting the photograph down and looking at the envelope instead.
Eleanor, David said, impatiently; it can't have been difficult, can it? There's only one museum in Coventry. That's not the important thing, he said. She put the envelope down, closing and rubbing her eyes for a moment.
How are you feeling? he asked. Eleanor shrugged.
Fine, she said, fine. Why?
I was just wondering, he said. Do you miss them? She sighed, and stood up, and started to clear the table.
David, she said, don't. I mean, yes. Of course I do. But there's nothing I can do about it now. She carried the dishes through to the kitchen and closed the door behind her.
David gathered up the photo, the envelope, the note, tucking them into his jacket pocket.
I trust this finds you both well, the note said. We often wonder how you are keeping.
The letter had arrived almost a week earlier, but Eleanor had been in a strange mood when he'd got home, brittle and tearful, and on Friday morning she'd refused to get out of bed. He'd known immediately that she was having one of her increasingly unusual and short-lived depressions; that he would have to take Kate to his mother's for the weekend and let Eleanor sleep, and be there if she wanted to talk but more likely leave her alone while she waited for the increased dose of medication to grind into effect. By Monday evening she'd been well enough to come downstairs and eat with them but he'd waited another two days before taking Donald's letter from his jacket and showing it to her. He listened to her in the kitchen now, remembering when a weekend like the one they'd just had would have stretched into weeks and sometimes months; dark slow days when he would flounder helplessly and resentfully around, wanting desperately to make things better but unable to find any way of doing so.
It was hard to say what had happened, really, what had changed. They hadn't spoken about it much. When Kate was born he'd thought that she might be cured, that the energy and devotion she was putting into raising a daughter might perhaps let some light into the darkened room her life had sometimes become. But that turned out not to be quite true. And then later he'd thought, guiltily, that the time she'd spent looking after him when he came out of hospital had cured her, that being relied upon in that way had given her some strength or vitality or reason to be. But that had turned out not to be the way things were either. These things were partly true, some of the time; they helped, and she never again sank so deeply into the speechless unreachable despair she'd struggled through before Kate had been born. She still had bad days, bad weeks, but she'd learnt to live with it somehow, had lost her fear of it, had found, crucially, a sympathetic and imaginative doctor who'd worked to develop the best levels of medication and treatment for her. It had become just another part of their lives now; something they dealt with and wondered occasionally how it had come so close to breaking the both of them.
Do you want a hand in there? he called out, standing up suddenly. Eleanor appeared in the doorway, drying her hands on a tea towel.
It's okay thanks, she said, smiling. I've finished now.
48 Photographs of Kate at eight years old, with birthday cards, 1984
His mother spotted them first, over by the ice-cream van. Isn't that your friend from work? she said to David. What's her name - Ann? He turned, and saw Anna standing there with Chris, laughing. He felt his body tensing for a moment, and turned away.
It's Anna, he said, correcting her, reaching across for another sandwich, hoping someone else would say something. Susan turned to look.
Aren't you going to say hello? his mother asked, lifting her hand towards the two of them, trying to catch their eye. Eleanor shifted round on the blanket and glanced at David.
I see her at work every day, David said, trying to sound indifferent. She probably sees enough of me as it is, he said.
Yes, but, his mother said, waving in their direction, you could offer them some birthday cake at least. Hello! she called out suddenly, waving more vigorously; Anna! Hello! David stood, and waved as well, taking a few steps towards them. They looked over, Anna waving back, Chris nodding and moving closer towards her. Come and have some birthday cake! Dorothy called, beckoning them over and pointing at the half-eaten cake in the centre of the blanket. They hesitated, looking at each other, looking at David. Chris looked over his shoulder, and said something into Anna
's ear. David watched them, and noticed Chris wiping a hand on the back of his trousers, and noticed Anna avoiding his eyes.
The birthday picnic had been his mother's idea. Susan came, with her children, and they let Kate choose three friends from her class to invite, and they all sat round a chequered blanket eating crustless sandwiches and crisps, drinking fizzy drinks, and singing happy birthday as Kate waited to blow out the eight pink candles on the chocolate ladybird cake Dorothy had magically produced from a box in her wheeled shopping bag. By the time Dorothy spotted Anna and Chris, the children had got bored of sitting down and were chasing each other around the park, playing a complicated game which Kate appeared to be making up as they went along.
Do you want to see if they're all okay? David said to Eleanor quietly, as Anna and Chris walked towards them. She looked up at him, and over towards Kate, and stood up.
Right then, she said, wandering over to where Kate and Mark were trying to pull a balloon out of each other's hands. David moved away from the blanket.
Hello there, he said, a little too loudly, holding up one hand as Anna approached, waving faintly.
Hello Anna, said Dorothy, standing up uncomfortably, brushing crumbs from her blouse and skirt. What a lovely coincidence, she said, smiling.
Hello Mrs Carter, Anna replied, stepping past David and reaching a hand out to Dorothy's arm. Someone's birthday is it? she asked. Chris stood back warily, not saying anything yet.
It's Kate's birthday, David said, turning away from Chris, gesturing over to where his daughter and her cousins and friends were still playing, noticing Eleanor watching him. She's eight, he said. Have you met Susan, my sister? he added. Susan looked up, and smiled, and they said hello to each other, Anna nodding as if she thought they might have met before, brushing her hair behind her ears.
There was a moment when nobody spoke, the children's voices careering across the grass, and then Anna said oh, yes, sorry, this is my husband Chris; Chris, this is Mrs Carter, and Susan, and you've met David before, and that's David's wife Eleanor over there. She put her hand behind Chris, drawing him in, gesturing to each of them, and Chris smiled and nodded at each one of them in turn.
No, please, David's mother said, call me Dorothy. Eleanor smiled and lifted a hand in greeting when they all looked at her. Kate stopped chasing a boy from her class for a moment to see what was happening, then ran on. Dorothy looked at David, wondering why he wasn't saying anything. Chris looked over his shoulder.
Would you like a piece of cake? Dorothy asked Anna. There's plenty to go round, she said, already kneeling to flip a slice on to a paper napkin.
Oh, no, thanks, Anna said quickly. We should be getting on, really. We've got things to do, she said, glancing at Chris, meeting David's eye by mistake and looking away.
Oh, come on, Dorothy insisted, you can take it with you if you want. It'll only go to waste, she said. Anna smiled awkwardly.
Well, okay, thanks very much, she said, stepping closer and kneeling down on the edge of the blanket. Susan shifted further round to make room for her, not saying anything.
Here you are then, Dorothy said, passing Anna a slice each for her and Chris. Thanks Dorothy, Anna said, this looks lovely. She turned, and tried to pass Chris a slice; but he was standing too far away, so David had to take it from her and pass it on himself. Their eyes met as Chris took the cake.
Cheers, he said. David looked at him. How's it going? Chris said, and David shrugged and said fine, you know, things are fine. Lovely day for a birthday party, he added, and Chris nodded.
I heard you were in hospital, he said as he bit into the cake; nothing serious was it? You alright now? David looked at him. He felt Anna glancing up at them both, and Susan turning to look across as well.
No, nothing serious, he said slowly, calmly. I'm right as rain now, he said, oddly. Chris finished his cake, crumpling the napkin in his hand, and with his mouth full he said something like, good, good, that's alright then, fighting fit, eh? Excuse me, he said, pointing to his mouth and turning away slightly.
Well, Dorothy said, after a moment's silence, this is lovely, isn't it? All of us together like this. She looked over at Eleanor, walking back now with Mark and Claire holding her hands, Kate skipping along behind them, the other children - Becky and Lisa and Paul - hanging back a little. We should do this more often, she said. It's such a shame your John couldn't be here though, she added to Susan, saying it almost as an afterthought, almost as though she'd forgotten he should have been there at all. He's often very busy with work, she explained to Anna. He's in management you know, she said, and Anna nodded and tried to look interested.
Chris leant closer to David, while the others were speaking, and lowered his voice to a mutter. You've never said anything, have you? he asked. David felt a pulse of adrenalin sear through his veins. He shook his head, once, almost imperceptibly, feeling his breath tighten, his eyes widen. You're not going to, are you? Chris said, as Mark and Claire threw themselves at Susan, bouncing balloons off her head and scrabbling across the blanket for crisps and chocolate buttons, and as Kate's friend Lisa said she needed to go to the toilet. David looked at Chris, and although at first he thought this was a threat, he realised, abruptly, by the way Chris was looking at him, steadily, uncertainly, waiting for an answer, that it was a plea. That somehow the balance of power had shifted between them, simply by his holding their secret to himself. He held back for a moment, and then shook his head, once.
Kate came over to David, curling her arms around his legs, pushing her face against his stomach, and as he reached down and wrapped his arms around her he held Chris's eyes for a moment longer, allowing himself the faintest of smiles. He lifted her up against his chest, feeling her thin warm arms around his neck, her legs around his hips, her hair brushing against his face as she wriggled into a comfortable position. She was too heavy to hold up like this now, but he held her tightly, briefly, and he looked at Chris as he put her back down, the smile flickering across his lips again. Chris turned away.
Thanks for the cake then Dorothy, Anna said, pushing herself up from her knees. We'll be getting on now though. Things to do, she said, smiling. She passed the paper napkin back to Dorothy, who shook the crumbs out on to the grass and smoothed it across her lap, folding it and putting it back into her bag.
Oh you're welcome, she said, it's nice to meet you again. Say hello to Daddy's friend, she said to Kate, and Kate turned in David's arms to look at this strange woman who'd been eating her cake.
It's my birthday, she said, a little too softly, overawed.
I know, Anna said. How old are you? Kate looked at her, and turned her face in to David's shoulder, embarrassed. Are you eight? Anna asked, moving closer, peering in to the gap between David and her. Kate looked out at her and nodded. I thought so, Anna said. You look very grown up for eight. Kate smiled, proudly.
I got a watch for my birthday, she announced, holding her wrist out for Anna to see.
Chris shifted uncomfortably, touching Anna on the arm, saying Anna can we, and Dorothy suddenly produced a camera from her bag.
I've just thought, she said. Could you do us a favour love, while you're here? Could you take a picture of us all? Anna glanced at Chris, and smiled awkwardly at Dorothy.
Well, I don't know, she said, I'm not much of a photographer.
Oh I'm sure you can manage this old thing, Dorothy said, holding the camera out towards her, clearing a space on the blanket for them all to sit together and pose.
Anna, Chris said again as she took the camera, nodding his head towards the park gates.
Oh it won't take a moment, Dorothy said to him, you don't mind, do you? It's so long since we've had a picture of us all together. She beckoned Susan round to kneel next to her, arranging Mark and Claire in front of them, showing Eleanor and David where they should go, telling Lisa that someone would take her to find a toilet in just a moment. Anna stood back with the camera.
Anna, Chris said. Have you told David t
he news yet? David glanced up from helping Kate to kneel in front of him with the cake on her lap. Anna turned suddenly to Chris, shaking her head.
What's that then love? asked Dorothy, stretching her arms around Susan and David, reaching out to pull Eleanor a little closer into the group. You've got some good news? Anna tried to laugh.
No, it's nothing, she said. Chris nudged her as she lifted the camera again.
You should tell them, he said, starting to smile. Anna looked embarrassed.
It's not you-know-what is it? said Dorothy, with a singsong in her voice, ignoring Susan's tut and roll of the eyes.
No, said Anna, it's not that, it's nothing, really.
Oh no dear, Dorothy said. You'll have to tell us now. You can't leave us guessing like that.
She got the head curator job, Chris said abruptly, fixing David's gaze as he said it, smiling. Anna lowered the camera and looked at the ground for a moment, and looked at David, an apology briefly in her eyes.
Oh, well done! said Dorothy. Now, shall we get this picture taken?
As the two of them were walking away across the park, having given the camera back and wished Kate a happy birthday again, having said goodbye and thank you for the cake, Dorothy broke the silence by saying well really. There's no need to gloat. Really. I thought you'd been working there longer than her anyway? she said to David.
Yes Mum, he said, I have. Thanks for reminding me. He started to tidy away the crisp packets and drinks bottles, glancing over at Anna and Chris as they reached the gates of the park, Chris with one hand around Anna's shoulder, the other hand wiping the back of his leg.
He remembered things. He sat in his office at work, writing reports and assessments so that he could keep out of everyone's way - could keep out of Anna's way - and he looked out of the window, and he remembered things.
He remembered Chris swearing, asking him what the fuck he'd done, calling him a silly cunt, asking him what the fuck he thought he was supposed to do now. He remembered Chris's voice sounding very much as though he was crying. He remembered Chris sliding his arms under his body and picking him up, and the agonising pain of each of those jolting steps.