Gillian Jackson - The Accident

When Rosie eventually left, Hannah went upstairs to bed, not wanting the children to see her the worse for wear. For once, she was fast asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.

Joe was actually smiling, but when he realised it, he felt a sudden stab of guilt. He was in his office at work, checking over some figures, when a colleague came in to ask him something. The conversation turned to their respective dogs and Joe recalled his morning’s walk with Liffey when she had bounded over the meadow like a kangaroo. She loved the long grass, especially if it was cool and wet. He’d taken pictures on his phone and laughingly showed his colleague.

When he was alone again, Joe experienced what he could only describe as a sense of disloyalty; it was happening more frequently these days, when normalcy slipped into his day and he paid the price with a sudden surge of guilt. But surely it was a good thing to be able to smile, even to laugh again; he wasn’t really betraying the memory of Alison by doing so, was he?

There would come a time when he would have to start truly living again, and not only by working and taking his dog out. It was nearly four months since his wife had died and he’d spent most of that time alone, grieving, not knowing what else to do. His conversation with his friend prompted thoughts of travel; perhaps he should get a caravan, or one of those motorhomes, then he could take Liffey off for long weekends and see a bit more of the country.

Joe had often fancied a motorhome but Alison admitted that she liked her creature comforts too much — a warm bath and a hotel when they were away, so she didn’t have to do any cooking. He’d be okay roughing it a bit though, and it would be great for Liffey too. The thought gave him something to dwell on and he decided he would start researching it that evening.

Once home, Liffey’s enthusiastic welcome was exactly what Joe needed; she brought him one of Alison’s slippers, a habit she’d taken up whenever they went out and left her alone. Really, he should get rid of the slippers to save him that little bit of heartache the sight of them brought, but as yet he hadn’t, so he thanked Liffey and stroked her silky coat. Perhaps neither he nor his dog was ready to part with the reminders of Alison just yet.

Joe had taken to buying M&S ready meals for one, and removing one from the freezer each morning so it would be defrosted by his return in the evening. With the intention to search the internet later that evening, he first let Liffey into the garden while he heated his meal. After he’d eaten, he grabbed his jacket again to walk his dog before planning to settle down with his laptop.

It was a pleasant, warm evening with the remnants of sunshine low in the sky. Their route would be the same they had taken that morning; the meadow was perfect at this time of year and an acceptable distance for them both to enjoy the walk. Hawthorn trees scented the air, mingled with the pungent smell of wild garlic, and wild flowers bloomed in abundance; swathes of buttercups, ox-eye daisies, red campion, cowslips and so many others, with names Joe didn’t remember, although Alison would have known them all; she’d loved the meadow.

Joe smiled at Liffey as she scooted round and round when he picked up her harness, excitement growling softly in her throat.

‘Come on, old girl, walk time!’ He caught his spinning dog, pulled on the harness, clipped on her lead and they set off briskly from the house.

Liffey was pulling excitedly on the lead, so Joe walked quickly past the houses and down the lane towards the entrance to the meadow. They had nearly made it when he heard a car, making too much noise for the speed limit of the small road.

He automatically shortened Liffey’s lead and pulled her closer to his side, expecting the car to roar past him. As the engine noise increased, he turned to look over his shoulder, annoyed with whoever was driving like a madman.

The last thing Joe remembered seeing was the car rising up onto the narrow path, only a few feet away from him. His heart stopped with recognition when he saw his brother behind the wheel. There was no time to shout out before the world spun violently and everything went black.

The weeks after Mike left were some of the most difficult Hannah had ever experienced. Only the presence of Mel and Sam kept her sane, but she was well aware that their departure for university was looming in the not too distant future, and she would have to make the most of this summer before they flew the nest. Her children were obviously making an effort for her too and she loved them even more for it.

After their initial shock at Mike’s leaving and their varied expressions of anger at what he’d done to them as a family, they slipped into an unspoken agreement of not mentioning his name around their mother. But Hannah felt duty bound to occasionally talk about her husband; he was still their father and she was sure that he meant what he said about maintaining a relationship with them.

Mike had been in touch every week, suggesting that the twins might like to meet up with him to go bowling, or to the cinema, but if either of them actually answered the phone, they always had a ready excuse to decline his invitations. Hannah wondered if they’d colluded to make a list of ‘reasons’ why they were not available, as the words seemed to roll off their tongues with such practised ease.

In spite of all he had done, Hannah felt sorry for Mike. Did he really expect the children to readily accept his new situation, and his new girlfriend? And had he actually thought through the effect that having a new baby would have on his ‘old’ family?

She was presented with the opportunity to ask him these questions when he rang one weekend and the twins were both out.

‘Perhaps I didn’t realise it would have such an impact on them,’ he admitted solemnly. ‘They never seemed to want my company when I lived with you, I didn’t think it would make such a difference — not being around I mean.’

‘They don’t take much notice of the furniture in the lounge but they’d certainly miss it if it suddenly disappeared,’ Hannah replied without thinking.

‘Oh, thanks, so I mean about as much to them as the bloody sofas, do I?’ Mike took it completely the wrong way.

‘No, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, it was a stupid analogy. It’s just that it’s a teenage thing, Mike — they take everything and everyone for granted at this age, it’s not personal.’

‘Well, it feels like it to me! My own kids don’t want to see me — how do you think I feel?’

Hannah was suddenly angry. ‘I hope you’re not expecting me to feel sorry for you?’ she retorted. ‘You’ve made your choices, Mike; perhaps you should have thought them through more thoroughly before you left us!’ Her anger dissipated almost as quickly as it had risen and she continued in a softer manner. ‘Look, you need to give them time to get over the shock. No child thinks their parents will divorce, and for you to have been seeing someone else all this time, and now a new baby on the way, it’s quite a lot for them to process. I’ll do what I can to help but there are limits, Mike, surely you can see that?’

‘Yes, I know and I’m sorry, Hannah. I know I’ve hurt you and I regret that, honestly I do, but any help you can give with the kids will be really appreciated. They listen to you.’

‘Oh, I’m not so sure about that, but they’re good kids. I’ll talk to them, see what I can do.’

Hannah did try, more than once, but it was too soon for Mel and Sam, and such a busy time for them both too. After their exams were over they began looking for temporary jobs to earn some money for university, both wanting to keep any student loans they would take out to a minimum — a responsible attitude of which Hannah was so proud.