Free Requiem Mass by Elizabeth Corley Page B

concerned for his younger child. ‘Is Christopher all right, Bess? How bad was his head?’
    ‘Well, he’s gone all quiet – like he does when you don’t like it, Daddy. He’ll talk to me but he won’t eat his tea and he’s not talking to Nanny.’
    ‘Oh dear. I’d better speak to her then and try to talk to Chris. But are you all right, little one?’
    ‘I’m fine … I miss you, though, Daddy, lots ! Nanny’s very nice and she gave me a lovely tea but, well … she’s not you.’ Again the final words emerged as a whisper, almost lost in the static of the line.
    ‘I know, but look, don’t worry. Only one more day to the weekend and, remember, I don’t have to work this Saturday.’ He crossed his fingers and hoped.
    ‘I know but, well, things happen, don’t they, and you can’t help it – something always comes up in your job – doesn’t it?’
    He couldn’t help smiling at a five-year-old copying his ownlame excuses exactly; she not only knew them backwards, she believed them too!
    ‘Put Nanny on now, dear. Night-night and God bless.’ He blew a kiss down the line quietly, hoping no one was still around to hear, and was promptly rewarded with her return blessing. Thank heavens for Bess. Without her over the past few months he didn’t know to what depths he might have descended.
    ‘Hello, Andrew. Late already?’ His mother’s tone delivered as sharp a slap as her hand used to.
    ‘Yes, Mum. Sorry. Things are impossible here. Look, how’s Christopher? What’s all this about him being hit at school?’
    ‘Yes, he was hit, but to be honest it was nothing out of the ordinary for boys of his age. Mind you, I think Bess delivered more damage. Apparently she really laid in to the lad that hit Christopher and he was either well-mannered or frightened enough not to hit back! You know what a tiger she can be over her brother. They had to pull her off the other boy and she was made to sit in the corner for the rest of the afternoon.’
    ‘So that’s why she was told off. The little madam! I’m glad I didn’t know earlier – I’d have had too much sympathy to tell her off myself. And what about Chris?’
    There was a pause in which he could hear his mother closing the door. ‘Well, it’s not good. Oh, the bump on his head is nothing – he’s had worse. But I’m really worried about him, Andrew. I can’t get a word out of him and he’s started that rocking again. He hasn’t done that since he lost his mother.’
    ‘Should we take him back to the doctor’s, do you think?’
    ‘We’ll have to. There’s no way he can go back to school tomorrow. They can’t keep an eye on him all the time.’ She paused to draw breath. ‘In fact, Andrew, I don’t think he should go to that school any more. We really need to consider finding a proper school for him.’
    ‘Hang on a minute! We’ve been over this before. It’s a big decision. Give Christopher more time to settle down – he’s only been back a day. He was happy enough there before.’
    Fenwick squared his jaw firmly, ageing and hardening his face. Christopher had never been an emotionally robust childand his father had attached great hopes to the steadying effects of his attending a ‘normal’ school now that he was just old enough. He was convinced that the boy needed to be in the real world of the village and that the rough and tumble of the other children would do him good. Privately, he thought that too much mollycoddling had contributed to the boy’s sensitivity in the first place.
    ‘Andrew, we’ve been over this before, time and again. I know he’s your son but it’s time to face facts.’ She lowered her voice further. ‘You must accept that Christopher is not a well little boy. He’s deeply disturbed and he’s nowhere near recovering from the loss of his mother; he still misses her deeply.’
    ‘But he’s near Bess now, Mum, every day, don’t forget that.’ Fenwick could hear an acknowledgement of defeat nibbling