“No, about six weeks.”
“That’s ages,” she complained.
“Look in the fire,” I said, “what shapes can you see?”
The chunks of wood were burning slowly, revealing their intricate grid design, charring into little squares, echoing the structure of bark. The patterns always reminded me of the fine network of lines on our skin, too.
“A witches face,” said Maddie, and a little house. There,” she pointed.
“I can see a dog being sick,” Tom boasted.
“You’re sick,” said Maddie.
“And a willy,” he found this absolutely hilarious and nearly choked on his dandelion and burdock.
We let the children carefully add wood to the fire, warning them not to throw anything on which could knock it all down and put out the flames.
Laura and Ray sat close and every so often Tom would launch himself onto Ray’s knee and wriggle off after he’d got a bit of attention.
“We used to have huge bonfires at home,” said Laura to Tom, “so big the men had to climb up ladders to put the guy on top.”
“Where was it?” I asked. I knew she’d been raised in the country and she still had a soft burr to her voice not common in Manchester.
“Lincolnshire,” she said, “middle of nowhere.”
“They’re all inbred like mad,” Ray joshed.
She punched him on the arm.
“Did you live on a farm?”
“No, my Dad worked on a farm nearby but we didn’t live there, we had a house in the village.”
“Did you have to go to school?” asked Maddie.
“Yes, and do you know how many children there were in my school?”
“How many?” Maddie’s eyes danced.
“How many?” echoed Tom.
“Twelve.”
“Twelve!” I couldn’t imagine it.
Laura shivered.
“You cold?” Ray asked her.
“A bit.”
Not surprising. We were all togged up in woolly jumpers or fleeces and Laura had a short sleeved top on.
“I’ll get you a coat.”
“I’ll be alright.”
“Don’t be daft,” he stood up, “you’ll freeze.” He came back with a woollen jacket which she wrapped round herself. It dwarfed her. She was only small, slim too. Fine featured with long blonde hair, grey eyes, a brown birthmark the size of a cherry on one cheek. Ray had met her at college, she was an assistant to their administrator.
“Tom,” Ray warned his son who stood poised to chuck a large block of wood into the fire. “That’s too big, find a stick.” I could see the flames reflected in Tom’s dark eyes, slivers of light shining on his glossy curls. He grinned and dropped the wood.
Maddie sidled onto my knee and we sat quietly for a while. Maybe it would be possible for Laura to move in with us, it would be better than Ray and Tom moving out. I’d have to get used to sharing my home with a couple, get used to their intimacy. But would she want to live like this? With Maddie and me as well as Ray and Tom, and Sheila, our lodger, to boot? Was there space? I was assuming that she’d move into Ray’s bedroom but in her shoes I’d want a room of my own; she had a flat to herself after all. Giving that up. We couldn’t ask Sheila to leave, we had an agreement. We’d have to move the kids playroom, maybe put it in the cellar – or bring their beds down, put them in the playroom. But then they’d be sleeping on a different floor, I didn’t like that idea…
