Cecelia Ahern - The Gift & Thanks for the Memories

Ruth’s eyes filled. ‘Oh, I know that, sweetheart, you already told me, I know.’

‘I just realised that when I’m not with you, I’m ruthless,’ he smiled, and his tearful mother – who’d returned with a towel – laughed and clapped her hands, before grabbing her husband’s hand at the table.

‘To all of you,’ he pulled away from Ruth, but wouldn’t let go of her hand, ‘I’m so sorry to all of you.’

‘We know that, Lou,’ Quentin smiled, emotion thick in his voice. ‘It’s all water under the bridge now. Okay? Stop worrying and sit down for dinner, it’s all okay.’

Lou looked to his parents, who smiled and nodded. His father had tears in his eyes and nodded emphatically that it was all okay. His sister Marcia was blinking fiercely to stop her tears, moving the silverware around on the table.

They dried him, they loved him, they kissed him, they fed him, though he wouldn’t eat much. He told them in turn that he loved them, over and over again, until they were laughing and telling him to stop. He went upstairs to get a change of clothes before, according to his mother, he caught pneumonia. While upstairs, he heard Pud crying and immediately left his bedroom and hurried to his son’s room.

The room was dark, with just a night light. He could see Pud wide awake and standing up against the railings of his cot, like a woken prisoner held captive by the sleep army. Lou switched the light on and went inside. Pud viewed him angrily at first.

‘Hey there, little man,’ Lou said gently. ‘What are you doing awake?’

Pud just gave a quiet little moan.

‘Oh, come here.’ Lou leaned over the railings and lifted him up, holding him close in his arms and shushing him. For the first time ever, Pud didn’t scream the house down when his father came near him. Instead, he smiled, pointed a finger in Lou’s eye, in his nose, then in his mouth, where he tried to grab his teeth.

Lou started laughing. ‘Hey, you can’t have them. You’ll have your own soon, though.’ He kissed Pud on the cheek. ‘When you’re a big boy, all sorts of things will happen.’ He looked at his son, feeling sad that he would miss all of those things. ‘Mind Mummy for me, won’t you,’ he whispered, his voice shaking.

Pud laughed, suddenly hyper, and blew bubbles with his lips.

Lou’s tears quickly disappeared at the sound of Pud’s laughter. He lifted him up, put Pud’s belly on his head and started jiggling him about. Pud laughed so hard, Lou couldn’t help but join in.

From the corner of his eye, Lou saw Lucy at the door watching them.

‘Now, Pud,’ he spoke loudly, ‘how about you and I go into Lucy’s room and jump on her bed to wake her up – what do you think?’

‘No, Daddy!’ Lucy laughed, exploding into the room. ‘I’m awake!’

‘Oh, you’re awake too! Are you both the little elves that help Santa?’

‘No,’ Lucy laughed. Pud laughed too.

‘Well then, you’d better hurry to bed, or else Santa won’t come to the house if he sees you awake.’

‘What if he sees you?’ she asked.

‘Then he’ll leave extra presents,’ he smiled.

She ruffled up her nose. ‘Pud smells of poo. I’m getting Mummy.’

‘No, I can do it.’ He looked at Pud, who looked back at him and smiled.

Lucy stared at him as though he were insane.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he laughed. ‘How hard can this be? Now come on, buddy, help me out here.’ He smiled at Pud nervously. Pud’s open palm smacked his father across the face playfully. Lucy howled with laughter.

Lou laid Pud down on the ground, so that he wouldn’t wriggle off the changing mat on top of the unit that Ruth used.

‘Mummy puts him up there.’

‘Well, Daddy doesn’t,’ he said, while trying to figure out how to undo the babygro.

‘The buttons are at the bottom.’ Lucy sat down beside him.

‘Oh. Thanks.’ He opened the buttons and rolled it up Pud’s body, evacuating all clothes from the area. He untaped the new nappy and slowly opened it. Turned it around in his hands, trying to figure out which way it went.

‘Oh pooh!’ Lucy dove backwards, her fingers pinching her nose. ‘Piglet goes on the front,’ she said through her blocked nose.

Lou moved quickly to try to get the situation in hand, while Lucy rolled around fanning the air with exaggerated drama. Impatient with his father’s progress, Pud began kicking his legs, forcing Lou away from him. With Pud on his knees, his rear end in Lou’s face, Lou crawled around behind him, approaching his bottom with a baby wipe, as though attacking him with a feather duster. His light swipes were not helping the situation. He needed to get in there. Holding his breath, he went for it. With Pud momentarily under control and playing with a ball that had caught his eye, Lucy handed the various apparatus to Lou.

‘You’re supposed to put that cream on next.’

‘Thanks. You’ll always take care of Pud, won’t you, Lucy?’

She nodded solemnly.

‘And you’ll take care of Mummy?’

‘Yessss.’ She punched the air.

‘And Pud and Mummy will take care of you,’ he said, finally grabbing Pud’s podgy legs and pulling him from under the cot and along the carpet while Pud screeched like a pig.

‘And we’ll all take care of Daddy!’ she hurrahed, dancing around.

‘Don’t worry about Daddy,’ he said quietly, trying to figure out which way to put the nappy on. Finally he got the gist, and quickly closed the buttons on Pud’s suit. ‘Tonight we’re going to let him sleep without his pyjamas.’ He tried to sound sure of himself.

‘Mummy puts the lights out so that he gets sleepy,’ Lucy whispered.

‘Oh, okay, let’s do that,’ Lou whispered, turning off the lights so that the Winnie the Pooh night light was all that circulated on the ceiling.

Pud made a few gurgles and spurts, non-words as he watched the lights.

Lou hunkered down in the darkness, pulling Lucy close to him, and he sat on the carpet hugging his little girl and watched the pooh bear of very little brain chasing a honeypot on the ceiling. It was his moment to tell her now.

‘You know that no matter where Daddy is, no matter what’s happening in your life, no matter if you’re sad or happy or lonely or lost, remember that I’m always there for you. Even if you don’t see me, know that I’m in here,’ he touched her head, ‘and I’m in here,’ he touched her heart. ‘And I’m always looking at you, and I’m always proud of you and of everything you do, and when you sometimes question how I ever felt about you, remember right now, remember me saying that I love you, my sweetheart. Daddy loves you, okay?’

‘Okay, Daddy,’ she said sadly. ‘What about when I’m naughty? Will you love me when I’m naughty?’

‘When you’re naughty,’ he thought about it, ‘remember that Daddy is somewhere always hoping that you’ll be the best that you can be.’

‘But where will you be?’

‘If I’m not here, I’ll be elsewhere.’

‘Where is that?’

‘It’s a secret,’ he whispered, trying to hold back his tears.

‘A secret elsewhere,’ she whispered back, her warm sweet breath on his face.

‘Yeah.’ He hugged her tight, and tried not to let a sound pass his lips as his tears fell, hot and thick.

Downstairs in the dining room, there wasn’t a dry eye in the house as they listened to the conversation in Pud’s nursery over the baby intercom. For the Sufferns they were tears of joy because a son, a brother and a husband had finally come back to them.

That night, Lou Suffern made love to his wife, and afterwards held her close to him, rubbing his hands down her silky hair until he drifted away, and even then his fingertips continued to trace the contours of her face: the little turn-up of her nose, her high cheekbones, the tip of her chin, along her jawline then all the way along her hairline, as though he were a blindman seeing her for the first time.