in the cupboard, Jack and Claire settled themselves at the kitchen table. Amy glanced over at them and smiled. It was almost like when they were little, again. Jack doing his homework at the table, while Claire sat close by with her colouring or stickers, asking how long it would be until she could do homework.
Of course, the novelty of that had soon worn off.
But those days, the three of them in the kitchen, the kids busy while she cooked, waiting for Jim to make it home from work, Henry barking for treats at her heels …
Amy grabbed the box of mince pies and slammed the cupboard door.
Times had changed. She had to remember that. Even if she still had hope that Henry would be home, begging for snacks again, soon.
‘So, your dad called,’ Amy said, nonchalantly. She placed mince pies on two plates, added some squirty cream from the can in the fridge, and handed them over to Jack and Claire.
Jack didn’t meet her gaze as he took the plate. ‘So?’ he asked, halfway through his first mouthful, spraying crumbs everywhere.
‘So … there’s a few changes to the plans for Christmas.’
Claire looked up, alarmed. ‘Like what? No presents?’
Of course that was her first concern. Amy sighed. ‘I’m sure there will be presents. In fact, you might even get the ones from your dad early. He’s coming by on Tuesday.’
‘Great!’ Whether Claire was more pleased about seeing Jim or the prospect of presents, Amy wasn’t sure.
Jack clearly wasn’t happy about either of them. ‘I don’t want to see him. We have to go there on Boxing Day. Isn’t that bad enough?’
Well, at least there was one part of the plan he’d be pleased with. ‘Actually, there’s been a bit of a change there, too. Your dad’s actually going away skiing for Christmas now, so we’ll have a bit longer together before you go to spend time with him.’ And Bonnie, she assumed. Not that they’d talked about it.
They should, Amy knew. And soon.
‘Brilliant. Then I’ll be out on Tuesday and I won’t have to see him at all. Perfect.’ Jack shoved the last half of his mince pie into his mouth.
‘Jack …’ Amy started, but Claire spoke over her.
‘So, we’re not seeing him at all at Christmas?’
‘You’re seeing him on Tuesday,’ Amy said, brightly. ‘In fact, we could get his presents wrapped tonight, ready to give to him. We’ll put a Christmas film on, really get in the festive mood …’
‘Have you told him about Henry yet?’ Jack asked.
Amy winced. ‘I haven’t actually spoken to him. He left a message on my phone.’
‘Meaning that you didn’t want to speak to him either,’ Jack said, astutely. ‘So how can you nag me about having to see him when you won’t?’
She didn’t have a good argument for that, not really. Only a thousand emotions that battered her heart, none of which she could put into words.
So instead, she said another true thing.
‘I’m still hoping Henry will have come home by the time we see Dad.’
‘Me too,’ said Claire, her voice very small.
Jack looked away, and Amy saw his Adam’s apple bob, hard, as he swallowed. ‘Yeah. Me three.’
Oh Henry, Amy thought. Where are you tonight?
Monday 16th December
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