“
“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.
CHAPTER SIX
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.”
She felt a little let down as she replaced the receiver. He didn’t need her any more. She didn’t feel she should attend the funeral, but she couldn’t help wondering how he and Toby were going to feel, and her heart went out to the little boy. And Ellen, who wanted her mother back home and didn’t understand what death meant.
When her parents had left for work and Shane for school, she washed her hair and sat in the sun drying it, did a bit of desultory housework and tried to read a book. The telephone shrilled she flew to answer it, with a premonition that it was Grant.
“Rennie?” he said. “Look, I’m awfully sorry to do this. Can you possibly come here after all? Ellen’s hysterical. She won’t let me take her out of the house. If you have other plans — “
“No. I’ll be right over. I’ll get a taxi.”
By the time she got there, and was let in by a solemn-faced Toby, Grant had calmed Ellen, who was sitting on his knee. There were traces of tears on her flushed cheeks, and she had a thumb in her mouth.
“Hello, Ellen,” Rennie said quietly, sitting down on the sofa beside them.
Ellen turned her head to her father’s shoulder, giving a little hiccup. Grant gave Rennie a look of harassed apology. “Ellen, say hello to Rennie,” he ordered.
“No, it’s all right. Maybe she’ll talk to me later, when she feels better.”
Toby said, “She’s not supposed to suck her thumb.”
“Just for today,” Rennie said. “Sometimes people need something for comfort.”
Toby blinked rapidly. “I don’t suck my thumb.”
“No, you’re older, aren’t you?