“It must have been a good place to grow up,” Grant commented as she waved to the children and turned to go back to the house.
“It was. Mum sometimes makes noises about moving to a more modern house, easier to keep clean and with less garden. But I think she’s rather fond of this one. Although she says she’s just too lazy to do anything about it.”
Grant laughed. “Lazy? I shouldn’t think so. Your mother appears to me to be a bundle of energy. Your family is what’s generally known as high-achievers. I’m told you’re an A student, too. And Shane is probably going to be dux of his school?”
“There isn’t much doubt of that. He’s always come top in most of his classes. Shane’s the really clever one. I have to work at it. To him it comes naturally. Who’s been boasting? Dad?”
“The subject just happened to come up.”
They were nearing the house when she stopped and turned to him. “Grant, there’s something I think I should tell you.”
His face closed. He looked towards the open door. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. It’s important. You see, when the children were playing with — “
But she was interrupted by a shout of “Hey, Ren! Who’s cooking tonight?” Followed by a casual, “Oh, hi, Grant.” And Shane came bounding up the path from the road, with two other teenage boys trailing behind him.
“I am,” she told him, before introducing them all to Grant.
“Tim and Sandy are staying for dinner, okay? We’ll help you if you like,” Shane offered.
“Just so long as you do the dishes,” Rennie answered.
Somehow she and Grant got swept into the house with the boys, and she had no further chance to talk to him before he collected the children and took his leave.
She walked with him to the car, the children on either side of them. He ushered them into the back seat and supervised while they buckled their safety belts.
As he turned to say goodbye to her, she plucked at his sleeve and pulled him towards the gateway. “Did you know,” she asked baldly, “that Toby and Ellen think it’s their fault you left their mother?”
He looked a little impatient. “Amateur psychology, Rennie? You’ve only just met them today. They didn’t tell you this, did they?”
“Not in so many words, but — “
He shrugged. “Well, then — “
“Oh, please listen,” she begged. “It’s none of my business, I guess, but you should know.” She told him about the game they had played with the dolls, and he shook his head, still only half convinced.
“Jean and I explained that it’s nothing to do with them. It’s one of the few things we still agree on. That the children must be protected from our — differences.”
“Well, they seem to think it is.”
He rubbed at his neck. “Then I don’t know what to do about it.” He touched her arm and said rather stiffly, “But thanks, Rennie. I appreciate your concern.”
Watching the car drive away, she hoped he did. She had the impression that he was embarrassed and wanted to get away from her as quickly as possible. It couldn’t have been pleasant to have an outsider telling him how his children felt about his seeming desertion of them. And an outsider was just what she was.
Exams loomed, and Rennie pushed aside everything else to concentrate on preparing for them. At least it gave her something to occupy her mind.
It was two days after Rennie’s last exam that her mother told her, “Rennie, I heard some disturbing news today. Grant Morrison’s wife — ex-wife — died suddenly.”
Rennie felt an odd sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Died? When?”
“Yesterday, I believe. The funeral notice is probably in today’s paper. Those poor children. And Grant — even though they were divorced, it will have been a shock for him.”
“Yes.” Rennie felt shocked herself. She had never known the woman, but Grant… “What can we do for him?”
“Not much, probably.” Marian cast her a penetrating glance. “You’re not close to him, are you, Rennie?”
Rennie shook her head sadly. She couldn’t claim that.
“Then we can offer our sympathy, and tell him we’d like to help if he needs anything. But he probably has family, close friends. They’re the ones he needs now.”
“Yes. I — don’t even know how to get in touch with him. I suppose he’s in the phone book, but should we ring?” He might feel it was an intrusion.
“We could send a note care of the law firm he’s with. They’d pass it on.”
“If he needs someone to babysit the children, I’ll be free from now on. That might help,” Rennie said. “I could offer.”
“Yes, do that. And if he’d like them to come here for a few days, we can make room.”
“Thanks, Mum. I’ll write a note now. And I’ll deliver it myself, first thing tomorrow.”
The firm must have passed the letter on the same day, because in the evening Rennie answered the phone to Grant’s voice. “Rennie?” he said. “Thank you for your note. It was very kind of you and your family. I’m grateful.”
“Grant — I don’t know what I can say. Are you all right? And the children?”
“I’m all right. And Toby and Ellen don’t realise properly what’s happened, yet. I suppose I don’t either. When a thing like this comes so suddenly, it’s hard to take it in.”
“She hadn’t been ill?”
“They think a brain embolism. It was very quick. She probably didn’t know anything about it. She was shopping with Ellen. Ellen was frightened, of course, but the people in the store were very good, and the police did their best to keep her calm. Fortunately they were able to get hold of me reasonably quickly. I picked up Ellen from the police station and Toby from school and took them home.”
“Home? To your place or — “
“No, I’m staying at the house now. I thought it best that I move in with them, rather than disrupting their lives still further.”
“Yes, of course.”
“Rennie — did you mean what you said about helping?”
“Yes. Yes, of course I did!”
“Two of the neighbours have offered to babysit or have the kids over, but they have their own families to look after, and Ellen, at least, seems reluctant to leave the house.”
“I’ll come over.”
“Tomorrow? I’ll take some time off, but I need to spend a couple of hours at the office handing over half-finished work, and then there are arrangements to be made for the funeral … The children took a fancy to you, and I know you’d be good with them. It’ll just be for a few days.”
She said, “I’m glad you asked. Give me the address.”
The house was a large, modern brick bungalow with a small lawn in front on which an abandoned tricycle and a sand-pit in one corner proclaimed the presence of children. When Grant opened the door to her he looked paler than usual, and his cheekbones seemed more prominent. He hadn’t shaved, and he wore a shirt that was only partly buttoned. She wanted to put her arms about him but felt strangely shy.
“Thanks for coming.” He held the door open for her, and she stepped into a wide hallway.
“Am I too early?”
“No.” He touched the stubble on his chin. “Sorry, I was hoping to make myself decent before the kids needed their breakfast, but they couldn’t wait. They’re in the kitchen.”
“I’ll go and say hello, shall I?”
He came with her. Toby and Ellen, seated at a cluttered table in a sunny window corner of the yellow and white kitchen, accepted her presence with obvious pleasure. There was cereal and sugar spilled on the table and a puddle of milk on the floor. Ellen greeted her with a tight hug about her thighs, clutching at her skirt.
“Ellen, wipe your hands — ” Grant suggested, too late. He cast an apologetic glance at Rennie.
“It’s washable,” she assured him. Ignoring the sticky smears on the blue cotton, she bent to give Ellen a quick hug. Looking up at him over the child’s fair head, she said, “You go and get tidied up if you like.”
When he came back, shaved and with a tie on and his hair smoothly combed, she was supervising Ellen’s buttering of a piece of toast and arbitrating over whose turn it was to have the picture card in the cereal box.
“Have you had breakfast?” she asked Grant.
“Don’t worry about me. Get yourself anything you like, though.”
“I had something at home. We’ll be fine, if you want to leave us.”
“Daddy?” Toby said. “Do I have to go to school today?”
“Not today, son. Maybe you could help Rennie look after your little sister. I have to go out for a while.”
“To work?”
“Yes, but not all day. I’ll be back soon after lunch, okay?”
He turned to Rennie. “If you can stay that long?”
“No problem. Take as much time as you need.” She noticed Ellen was looking dubious, and said, “Ellen, how about we make your daddy a cake for his tea? Do you know how to make chocolate cake?”
Ellen shook her head.
“Mummy says chocolate’s bad for you,” Toby said.
There was a small silence. “Well, there are other kinds of cake,” Rennie said. “How about carrot cake? Maybe your mummy wouldn’t mind us making that, if you have some carrots. Do you know where there are some recipe books?”
“In the cupboard,” Toby told her. “We’re not allowed to touch them.”
Ellen said, “Are you coming back for tea, Daddy?”
“Definitely. Before that. And I’ll look forward to a nice big piece of cake. So don’t you let Toby eat it all before I get here, okay?”
Toby chuckled, and Grant ruffled his hair, casting Rennie a grateful look over his head before he kissed both the children goodbye.
When he returned in the afternoon, Ellen was having a nap and Rennie and Toby were crawling round on the lounge floor. A wayward and apparently random construction of wooden building blocks and plastic railway lines covered most of the carpet.
Toby saw Grant first, giving him a tentative smile.
“Looks like you’ve been having fun,” his father said.
“We’ll put it all away before bedtime,” Toby promised.
Rennie scrambled to her feet and said, “Did you get everything done?”
“Not everything.” He saw her looking at the suitcase in his hand and said, “I called at my flat and collected some more clothes. I’ll go and unpack them.”
When he came out of the bedroom she had the kettle on. “Tea or coffee?” she asked him. “If Jean kept anything stronger, I can’t find it. Perhaps you’d know — “
“No, there wouldn’t be,” he said. “Coffee’s fine. But you shouldn’t be waiting on me.”
“You look as though you need it. Sit down. Black?” she confirmed.
He nodded, stirring in a spoonful of sugar from the bowl she placed on the table, shifting a couple of colouring books and some crayons out of the way. “Are you going to join me?”
“In a minute.” She picked up one of the crayons that had rolled onto the floor and dropped it on the table with the others. “I won’t give you carrot cake, because Ellen would want to be here when it’s cut. But have you eaten? You didn’t have breakfast, did you?”
“Didn’t I? No, I suppose not. I had a couple of sandwiches at lunch time. Someone ordered them for me. Everyone’s very kind.”
“I could make you something — “
“No. Sit here with me. Please.”
She poured coffee for herself and sat opposite him. “If there’s anything I can do — “
He smiled at her. “You’re doing it. Who made the children’s beds?” Someone obviously had, although not with a lot of expertise.
Rennie grinned back at him. “They helped. Toby’s quite good at his, and Ellen was — enthusiastic.”
“I didn’t mean to leave them for you, but I seemed to run out of time. I can’t tell you how grateful I am for this.”
“You needn’t be. I want to do it.”
“There wasn’t anyone else I could think of. My father’s dead, and my mother’s heart isn’t good. When I take the children to visit her we can’t stay very long, she gets too tired.”
“You don’t have brothers and sisters?”
“One brother. He lives in Australia. And Jean’s family are all in the South Island, though they’ll be here for the funeral, of course. One of my partner’s wives volunteered, but the children have never met her. At least you’re someone they know. They’ve talked about you a lot, and the day they spent at your place. Wanted me to take them there again — “
“Why didn’t you?”
He was silent for a moment. “Perhaps I would have.”
“Do. When this is all over.”
“Maybe. Thanks. You’ll be wanting to get home.”
“There’s no hurry. Have your coffee before it gets cold.”
He smiled faintly and lifted the cup.
“When will the funeral be?” Rennie asked him.
“Day after tomorrow. To give Jean’s family time to get here.”
“Did she come from a large family?”
“Two sisters and a brother. Her mother died years ago, her father’s living with one of the sisters now. She wasn’t particularly close to them. They’ve seen the children maybe four times since Toby was born.”
“Are the children going to the funeral?”
“Some people have told me I should take them. Said they need to accept that their mother’s dead, and attending the service helps. I don’t know. What do you think?”
Rennie shook her head. “I’m no expert. And I don’t know Toby and Ellen that well. I think … what’s right for one child may not be right for another. You’re their father.”
He ran a hand into his hair. “Yes, but I hardly know them either. A few hours every second weekend. I’m just beginning to realise how little time I actually spent with them. Well, it’s all got to change now. They’re my responsibility.”
“Daddy!”
They hadn’t heard her, but Ellen had woken from her nap, and was barefoot in the doorway. She ran across the floor and flung herself into her father’s lap, nearly spilling his coffee before he managed to put it down. “Daddy!” She wound her arms about his neck, holding on tight.
“Hello, moppet,” he said. Then his arms went about her, and he hugged her to him, dropping his cheek against her hair, his eyes tightly closed.
Watching, Rennie felt tears sting her eyes. She got up and took her cup to the sink so that he shouldn’t see.
Rennie spent part of the next day with the children, but Grant sent her home soon after lunch.
Next morning he phoned, early. “I’ll take the children with me to the funeral. Toby wants to come. Ellen, poor little scrap, doesn’t understand what’s happening, although I tried to explain. Says she wants Mummy to come home. Tomorrow’s the weekend, and I’ll stay home for the first couple of days next week to get some permanent arrangement sorted out. Thanks for your help, Rennie.”