Clean Slate Page 14

  “Well, I suppose when you put it like that, you’ve got a point.”

  Erin let her head fall back against her chair and stared at the ceiling.

  “You wish you didn’t though, don’t you?” Chris put his empty glass on the table.

  “What?”

  “You wish you didn’t have a point. You still love her, don’t you?”

  “Why are you sticking up for her? And don’t say you aren’t, because you are.”

  “I want you to be happy. Apart from this last month or so, Morgan has always made you happy. Even when you got pregnant and stupidly left her, or you were arguing, or either of you were being moody. She still made you laugh.”

  “She doesn’t remember any of that.”

  “And that hurts even more than her leaving you, doesn’t it?”

  “The Morgan I loved doesn’t exist anymore. Seeing her yesterday made that so clear. My wife doesn’t exist anymore, and the feelings I have about her walking out are never going to be resolved, because she doesn’t exist to help sort them out. It’s like she died. Like we had a fight and then she died.” She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. “Seeing her yesterday, she was so different. She seemed so young, and she was so worried that the kids wouldn’t like her. It was written all over her face and she seemed so vulnerable.”

  “Was that bad?”

  “What? No. Just different. Not what I’m used to.”

  “She is different.” He leaned his elbows on the table and waited until she looked at him. “Think about it. By the time we get to our age, we’re shaped and molded by all the different things that have happened to us through our lives. I’m wary of getting involved with another woman because my last girlfriend cheated on me. I’m jaded, thinking every woman’s going to do the same thing to me. You don’t trust people because Dad was a knobhead, and Morgan left. These are big things that have had a deep impact on us, but really, they’re fairly small everyday things that happen to just about anyone. Millions of dads leave their kids, billions of girlfriends cheat. Morgan’s dad killed her mum, she testified against him, and he was sent to prison. For life, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not exactly commonplace, and it is hugely traumatic. This Morgan, the one you saw yesterday, that never happened to her. It hasn’t had an impact in forming her thoughts, or her reactions, or anything.”

  “But she knows about it.”

  “And I know about the Second World War, and it makes me sad, and angry, and parts of it disgust me. But it doesn’t affect me as a person. It doesn’t change the way I’m going to live my life.”

  “But it’s her mum.”

  “And she’ll be grieving. But those images, those incredibly intense emotions that she must have felt, they aren’t a part of her anymore.”

  Was that the difference? The thing that was missing? The insidious worm that had been eating Morgan’s soul, stripping her of her passion, her confidence, and her spirit was a ghost, haunting her from the inside. Was this woman, this new Morgan, free of the shackles that had snared her before her life had really even begun? Was it this memory that had created the brooding, tortured soul that Erin had fallen in love with, wanted to heal, and needed to love her with an intensity that had taken her breath away?

  “You still love her, don’t you?”

  Erin snorted. “It doesn’t matter if I do or not. We’ve both said it in different ways but the result is the same. My Morgan’s gone.” She tossed the coaster onto the table. “I have to accept that and figure out some way of moving on.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Morgan pressed the length of charcoal down the paper, loving the scratching sound it made as it left its mark. She used her thumb to smudge in the contours and create depth. Tiny touches added the impression of color to the eyes, bounce to the curls, and life to the page. She didn’t remember being an artist, but the more she did it, the more natural it felt. It brought a sense of calm nothing else had, yet.

  The sound of the doorbell pulled her from her reverie. She glanced at the page, frowning as she put it on the coffee table and went to the door. She smiled when she opened it.

  “Hello, Maddie. What are you doing here?”

  “Come to see you. Is that okay?”

  “Course it is.” She stepped back to let her enter. “Did your mum drop you off?”

  “Erm, no.” Maddie was in the front room and pulling off her coat. “Where’s Auntie Amy and Auntie Nikki?”

  “Out shopping. How did you get here?”

  “I walked. It’s only a few streets. That’s Mum.” She pointed at the drawing Morgan had left on the table. “Did you draw this?”

  “Yes. Does your mother know you’re here?”

  “Have you done more in here?” Maddie lifted the sketchbook and turned the pages back.

  “Does your mum know you’re here, Maddie?”

  “That one’s me.”

  “Yes, it is. Now please tell me. Does your mum know you’re here?”

  Maddie shook her head.

  “Where is she?”

  “At home.”

  “So why didn’t you ask her about coming here?”

  Maddie shrugged.

  “I would have come to get you, but you shouldn’t sneak out.”

  “I didn’t sneak.” She put the book down. “I just opened the door. That’s not sneaking.”

  “Maddie, you know what I mean, don’t you? You should have told your mum where you were going, and you should have called me to come and get you.”

  “But I thought…”

  Morgan waited, squatting next to her when she didn’t carry on. “You thought what, sweetheart?”

  “That I couldn’t see you until Tristan said he wanted to. And he hasn’t said yet, but I wanted to see you, and it’s not fair if I can’t because he’s being a stupid-head, and I’m big enough to walk here, and I know the way, and I didn’t get lost or anything.”

  “Hey, hey.” Morgan pulled her into a hug and the tears started to fall. “It’s all right.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell mum I was going out, but I didn’t know if it was okay, and I really had something important to talk to you about.”

  “It’s okay. You’re allowed to see me anytime you want to. And we’ll talk about the important things, but I think we should call your mum first. Let her know where you are, and that you’re okay. Don’t you?”

  Maddie nodded against her shoulder. “She’ll be mad at me.”

  “Well, maybe, but only because she’ll be worried about you.”

  “Will you tell her?”

  Morgan laughed. “Oh, you want me to do your dirty work for you, hey?”

  Maddie looked up at her and nodded solemnly.

  Morgan couldn’t say no. “This time. But you pull this stunt again, and you’re facing the music on your own, tough stuff.” She tweaked her nose and grabbed the phone. Maddie told her the number and sat next to her flicking through the sketchbook as the phone rang.

  “Hello.” Tristan’s voice welcomed her.

  “Hi, Tristan. It’s your mu—it’s Morgan. Is your mum there?”

  “She’s going ape at the minute. Maddie’s gone walkabout.”

  “She’s here. It’s lovely to hear your voice, Tristan, and I do want to talk to you, but can you please put your mum on the phone?”

  “Yeah. Is she really there? With you?”

  “Yes.” She could hear him moving about.

  “Just a minute.” His words were muffled, but Morgan could clearly make out his voice as he shouted for Erin. “She’s coming now. Did you come for Maddie?”

  “What? No. Maddie just got here. She came by herself.”

  “So you’re not kidnapping her or something?”

  “What? No—”

  “Morgan? Is she there?” Erin’s voice was high-pitched and her breathing ragged.

  “Yeah. She walked here by herself a few minutes ago.”

  “Oh, thank God. I�
�ll come and get her.”

  “Erin, it’s okay. I’ll bring her back.” There was a pause on the other end of the line.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course.”

  “Call me if she’s bothering you, and I’ll come get her.”

  “Erin, she isn’t bothering me. I want to spend time with her. I’m glad she’s here. I’ve already told her that she was wrong to sneak out without telling you, and that she’s not to do it again, but I want to see her. Both of them. Anytime. We’re going to have some pop, and then I’ll bring her back. Is that okay with you?”

  “Yes. Just a sec.”

  Morgan heard a muffling sound that she assumed was Erin’s hand over the mouthpiece.

  “We’re having dinner at six, why don’t you join us and bring Maddie back then?”

  Morgan couldn’t stop the grin that formed on her lips. “Is that okay with Tristan?”

  “Yes. Do you want to?”

  “More than anything. Do you need me to bring anything?”

  Erin laughed. “Just our wayward daughter. See you later.”

  “Yeah.” The soft click signaled the end of the call, and Erin’s warm voice was gone. Maddie looked at her, a frown marring her forehead.

  “Am I in a lot of trouble?”

  “I think a firing squad was mentioned.” Maddie’s eyes widened, and her eyebrows shot up. Morgan laughed and tickled her ribs, loving the joyful sound of her giggles filling the quiet room. The squirming girl eventually managed to escape and sat on the far end of the sofa.

  “I think you’ll survive it, but it’s going to be close. Your mum was really worried.”

  Maddie stared down at her shoes.

  “You understand why, don’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “Tell me then.”

  “Because there’s weirdos out there, and I got to be careful and not put myself in dangerous situations and I have to make sure someone knows where I am so that nothing bad happens to me.”

  “Phew, take a breath, kiddo.”

  “I’m sorry mum.”

  “It’s not me you need to apologize to. Tell your mum that when we go back, okay?”

  Maddie made a cross over her chest. “I promise.”

  “So what’s so important you risked the firing squad to get here?”

  She grabbed her Scooby-Doo backpack and rummaged around before she pulled out a notepad with a pencil through the spiral wire at the top. The pencil had a big pink love heart on it. Morgan smiled.

  “Do you make lots of lists?”

  “Yup. So I don’t forget stuff.”

  “My mum used to make lists all the time too.” Morgan smiled to herself, remembering the notepad her mother carried in her pocket, and the second one that was attached to the fridge with a huge magnet shaped like a horseshoe. She remembered her rubbing it—for luck, she had said—and recalled the fleeting thought that the habit had never worked for her mother. She swallowed the bitter taste of loss and focused instead on what was important and right in front of her.

  “She did?”

  “Yeah. All the time.” Morgan wrapped her arm around Maddie’s shoulders when she got closer.

  “You never told me that before.”

  “I didn’t?”

  “No. You didn’t talk about your mummy very much. You got upset.”

  “I might still get upset, because she died.”

  “I know. But that was a long time ago. Before I was born.”

  “It was. I only found out a couple of weeks ago. So it’s still really new for me.”

  “Are you sad now?”

  “No, I’m really happy because you’re here.”

  Maddie grinned and leaned into her, wrapping skinny little arms around her tummy. Morgan kissed her hair.

  “So what’s on the list?”

  “This is my calendar.” She opened the notebook to the first page. It was marked into a chart for the week, and each evening was marked with various activities. “These are the things I do. I go to Brownies on Mondays, gymnastics on Tuesday, swimming on Wednesday straight after school. Uncle Chris takes me to dancing classes on Thursday, and on Friday, I don’t do anything after school. So can I see you then?”

  “That sounds like a good plan. And maybe your mum could use some help with all the other stuff you do, so I could maybe pick you up or drop you off at some of this stuff.”

  “That’s what you used to do.”

  “Then I’ll definitely have to do that again.”

  “You used to do Mondays and Wednesdays because you worked on Tuesday and Thursdays.”

  “So Brownies and swimming. I can do that.”

  *

  “Do you have a key?” Morgan kept a tight hold on Maddie’s hand and carried her backpack in the other.

  “No. You said not until I got to secondary school, because there would always be someone home with me till then.”

  “Oh, right.” Morgan nodded as though this made complete sense to her. “You can knock then.” She pushed Maddie forward slightly and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. She frowned at the dark smudges and realized that she hadn’t washed her hands after putting away her sketchbook, and the charcoal dust still clung to her skin.

  Maddie pushed open the letterbox in the middle of the door and shouted through, “Tristan, can you let us in?” The door opened, and Erin smiled down at Maddie.

  “No such luck, madam.”

  “I’m sorry, Mum. I was really bad, but I didn’t think I was allowed to go and see Mum till Tristan said, but it was really important.”

  “And what was so important?”

  “Mum’s going to do Mondays and Wednesdays just like before.” Maddie grinned, then stopped and adopted her serious face again. “But I’m sorry I scared you.”

  “Mmm.” Erin crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Can I come in yet?”

  “I haven’t decided.” Erin winked at Morgan over Maddie’s head before quickly looking away, a frown marring her beautiful face. The swift change caught Morgan by surprise and made her wonder what had caused Erin’s angry reaction to her own playful behavior. Erin cleared her throat and turned a small smile on Maddie. “You might have to sleep in the backyard.”

  “Really? In the tent?” Maddie couldn’t contain her enthusiasm for the proposed punishment.

  Erin laughed and ruffled her hair. “Get in, rascal. Don’t ever do that to me again. I won’t stop you seeing your mum, but there’s a right way to go about it and a wrong way.”

  “This was the wrong way. I know. I’m sorry. What’s for dinner?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.” She turned back to Morgan. “Are you coming in, or shall I serve you out here?”

  Morgan grinned. “I’d love to.” She brushed by Erin as she walked into the hall.

  “Why don’t you hang your jacket over there?” Erin pointed to the coat rack. “And I’ll get you a drink. Would you like a glass of wine?”

  Morgan shrugged out of her leather jacket. “No, thanks. I don’t drink wine.” Morgan hung her coat up, pleased that she was starting to catch the vocabulary that was nothing but a reminder of her past. If she wanted Erin and her children to take her seriously as their mother, then she needed to try at least to sound the way mothers do. The way they remembered her. She turned to see Erin staring at her. “What?”

  “You used to drink wine.”

  “Oh. I don’t like the taste.”

  “When we met, you taught me about wine, how to taste it properly, and what made up a great bouquet.” She laughed gently. “You told me that an ex-girlfriend taught you to appreciate wine, that she was a sommelier.”

  Morgan cocked her head. “A what?”

  “A sommelier. A wine expert.”

  “Huh. Wonder how I ended up with one of them.” Morgan felt her cheeks warming as she spoke.

  “Come on.” Erin smiled. “I hope you still like lasagna.”

  Morgan followed her down the hall, unable
to tear her eyes away from Erin’s denim clad backside, her hips swaying with each step.

  Maddie was getting plates out of the cupboard to set the table when Morgan entered the room.

  “Can I help?” Morgan held her hands out for the plates.

  Maddie shook her head. “I’ve got it, thanks.”

  “Sweetie, go and get your brother when you’ve done that.” Erin bent over to check the oven, and Morgan felt her mouth go dry.

  “Okay.” The clatter of plates snapped Morgan out of her staring and she rushed to help Maddie, despite her earlier refusal. Maddie smiled and disappeared up the stairs.

  “Have a look in the fridge. See if there’s anything in there you do like to drink.” Erin smiled over her shoulder as she pulled the bubbling lasagna out and put the dish on a wooden board.

  “Right, thanks.” Morgan stuck her head inside the cold space and wished she could climb in. Erin is not for drooling over. She’s a gorgeous, brilliant woman who’s made it clear that she’s not interested. She didn’t even want me to hug her at the football match, so get over it and behave like a damn grown up! She grabbed a can of pop as Tristan and Maddie sat down. “Anyone else want one?” She held the can up.

  Maddie nodded with a grin.

  “Milk, young lady.”

  Maddie pouted as Erin handed a glass to Morgan. “Sorry” she mouthed to Maddie as she set the glass in front of her.

  “Tristan?”

  “I got it.” He stood, clearly working hard to avoid touching her, and got himself a glass of fruit juice.

  Morgan took a deep breath and slid into a seat.

  “Oh, Morgan, before you leave later, there’s a bag of stuff I need to give you.” Erin placed the lasagna on the table and served portions onto the children’s plates. “Make sure you eat salad too, Tristan.” She kissed the top of his head. “When you were in the hospital, they gave me the things you were wearing when you were brought in. I meant to give them to Amy or Nikki earlier, but I kept forgetting.”

  Morgan smiled and held her plate out. “That’s fine, thank you.” She was so busy staring at Erin’s lips that her words barely registered.

  Tristan was watching her as she started eating.