Sommersgate House (Ghosts and Reincarnation #2)(34)
In fact, looking around him, he noticed all the children were eating their food with relish. The last months, they had been eating quickly but he saw that they were eating quickly to get it over with. Now they were devouring the food with enjoyment and, although Lizzie wasn’t bright eyed and giggling, she was eating. Both Will and Ruby were acting as if they’d just won the lottery.
“Children, what did we talk about?” Julia prompted.
Julia, he saw, had no food in front of her and was sipping only at a cup of coffee.
“Thank you Unka Douglas!” Ruby shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Thank you for the weekend in London, we had a good time,” Will recited as if he was reading it from a script, the blankness of his tone belied the look on his face which one could only describe as goofy. This effect, Douglas saw, was to draw out Lizzie who didn’t bother to respond to her brother.
“Yeah, thanks,” Lizzie chimed in half-heartedly.
Douglas looked at Julia, her chair was pushed back and she was twisted in it, her back slightly towards him, her legs crossed in front of her. Her bare foot with its pale pink varnished toes bounced casually, or angrily, he couldn’t tell which.
She was cupping her coffee in both hands like it was providing warmth against an arctic freeze and staring into it like it could tell her the meaning of life.
He reached for the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.
“You’re welcome,” he told the children.
“Can we go back? Can we, can we, can we?” Ruby asked.
“Of course, Ruby, when would you like to go?” he inquired, sipping his coffee and feeling the full weight of Julia’s feigned aloofness, just as she intended.
“Tomorrow?” Ruby tried.
He smiled at the child and said in a gentle tone, “No, Ruby, tomorrow would be too much of a good thing. But soon.”
“Promise?” she shouted.
He nodded and Mrs. Kilpatrick walked in, setting his breakfast in front of him and announcing that Carter was ready to take the kids to school.
They rushed around like dervishes, all stopping at Julia for hugs and kisses. Douglas watched in dawning realisation that this unusual practice of affection was now an expected agenda item for the morning schedule, or indeed any time they left Julia. Ruby even stopped and gave him a kiss before unnecessarily chasing after the siblings who would leave her behind.
Unable to keep her back even partially to him and not appear rude, Julia turned back to the table but didn’t say a word.
“Have you had breakfast?” he asked.
“I’m not hungry,” she replied, her tone not inviting further conversation and her eyes were now gazing in fixed fascination on the wallpaper across the room as if she were counting the seconds to when she could leave and not seem ill-mannered.
“Would you like to explain this new morning ritual?” he asked.
This shook her out of her feigned remoteness and she turned startled green eyes to him.
“You said that I could decide what the children were to eat,” she looked down at the pots of jam.
“I’m not referring to the sugar bowl, Julia,” he explained. “I think it… unusual to demand the children display physical affection every time they leave you.” His tone sounded more judgmental than he intended and she stiffened in response.
“It’s tradition,” she told him, her voice terse.
“An odd tradition,” he commented, regarding her levelly and she raised her glittering eyes to his.
“Not really. My mother always made us kiss and hug her before we went to bed or school or, when we were older, out with our friends. We used to hate it. Especially if it was in front of someone else or we were quarrelling with her. Even then, we had to kiss her goodnight. One day, when I was a senior in high school, she got sick. A really bad case of pneumonia and she had to be in the hospital for a long time and, for a day or two, it didn’t look good. I couldn’t give her a kiss or hug before I went to bed and I found I missed it, was actually desperate to do it because I was so scared at how sick she was. It was then I realised her wisdom, because anything can happen when you least expect it. And, if the last thing you did was give someone you loved a hug or a kiss, it would make dealing with whatever happened just that tiny bit better.”
She stopped and he realised, with some surprise, she was having trouble breathing. Regardless, she continued, but this time, her voice was shaking.
“I know Gavin and Tammy did the same thing with those kids for the same reason and it makes it all a tiny bit better knowing that the last things those kids did was kiss and hug their parents good-bye.”
It was then Douglas realised why her breathing was laboured, why her voice was shaking. She was holding back the tears that were gleaming at the rims of her eyes. He himself felt a strange lump rise in his throat and his hands involuntarily formed into fists in an effort not to touch her, something that was becoming a habit, this consistent effort not to touch her.
And he very much wanted to touch her now. He wanted to touch her last night after she blazed at him in anger and when she was seated demurely on the couch listing her grievances regarding the children. He wanted to touch her in the car when she was sleeping away her exhaustion and jetlag. And he had wanted to touch her in the Bentley when they were driving to the gallery and all he could smell was her perfume and all he could see were her endless legs.