He should stop bouncing, really, but if he couldn’t be excited now then when could he be? Tom sneaked up behind Megan and slipped his arms around her waist, kissing the back of her neck through her hair. She shook him off and turned around, hands on hips.
“How many months of this do I have to put up with? I might change my mind…”
“I called Ruth, she said yes. She’s sent some dates for us to check with the church, then we can confirm.”
“Fabulous. But first, four children need feeding. And you can either help, or get out of the way.”
“Give me a job, then.”
She sighed and slapped a bag of carrots down in front of him. “How are you so useless?”
He shrugged and got to work, whistling as he did so. Paused for a second. “Oh yeah, she’s going to see us for marriage prep. Obviously.”
“Because it’s so much harder than what we’re doing right now.”
“She wants to meet you.”
Megan mock-sighed. “Guess I’d better meet her then. Because that’ll be really easy to fit in.”
“It’s important.”
“Unquestionably.” She laughed. “Fine, it’s cool. I never thought the Archbishop of York would do my wedding.”
“There’s a lot here I’d never have expected.”
“Obviously.”
The following day, he got the reply back to Ruth: end of June. Was it rushing into things? He’d have looked suspiciously at anyone coming to him so early in a relationship, but he and Megan were already essentially fostering together. They’d looked after Justin together, and handled his death together. And they were that bit older. It was hardly a couple of eighteen-year-olds getting overexcited.
“We’re going to have to get planning.”
“We are.”
Megan rolled her eyes at him. “And you’re going to make me do it all?”
“That’s unfair.”
“So, it’s going to be small. Close friends and family on my side, on yours… half the clergy of the Church of England?”
“They’re not all ordained!”
“Make a list.”
“Are you going for a fancy dress? If I’m allowed to ask?”
“I think not!”
“You don’t want to?”
“I really don’t think I’m that sort of girl, do you?”
“I think you’re a fabulous sort of girl. Anyway, you only get married once. Don’t go away with regrets.”
“I won’t. You never mind what I’m wearing, anyway, there are more important things to worry about. We have a church and an archbishop… is she going to be in full regalia?”
“Cope, mitre, and crozier? Yeah, probably, if that’s okay.”
“Well there goes simplicity.”
“Ruth'll deal with the actual service side of things. What else do weddings need? I’ve been to a few, but I don’t really know… never planned one.”
“What do you think? Reception, food, drinks, entertainment, invitations, flowers…”
“I know lots of people who do flowers.”
“Good. You can deal with that then. Any more connections? Weddings are expensive, and I can think of a lot of other things which need that money more…”
“If I turn up in a cassock I won’t need a suit…”
“I’m not wearing a big dress so you want to do it instead?”
“Hey, I look sexy in a cassock…”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not the point of a cassock.”
“I guess…”
She poked him. “Concentrate.”
“Fine. Um, I know people in publicity, I bet there’s someone at Church House who’d make us some mean invitations.”
“Now we’re talking.”
“Cakes are a thing.”
“Yes. Yes they are.”
“You know anyone who bakes cakes?”
“Let me think about that. We need reception and food first.”
It was quarter to eleven when they heard the knock on the door. Tom was quicker to react. “I’ll get it.”
Megan looked up. “It’ll be Charley.”
“It’s quarter to eleven…”
“Is it?” She was on her feet too. “I told her ten…”
Tom took a quick breath. “I assumed she was upstairs, since I got here late.”
“No, I let her go out. With Mark and friends, again. I’ve said no a few times this week, she was getting grumpy.”
Tom opened the door. “Good evening, young lady. Do come in.”
She pushed past him, heading for the stairs.
“Hold it.” Megan was in the way. “What time is it?”
She shrugged. “Just after ten?”
“Almost eleven.”
She looked at her watch nonchalantly. “So it is.”
“What time did I tell you?”
She shrugged. “We lost track of time.”
“Tom and I care about you. We want you to be safe, we’re willing to let you go out if you want to see friends but we have to know where you are and you have to be back by the time we agree. Otherwise we worry.”
She shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Apology accepted. Bed.”
Tom stood next to Megan, watching Charley plod up the stairs, waiting until she was in her room and out of earshot.
“She looks rough.”
“Too many late nights. I’d like to meet this boyfriend of hers.”
Tom shrugged. “So would I. I guess pushing will only alienate her, though, and at least she has friends. So much happier than she was.”
“Not this week. She’s been an absolute misery. Skipped school on Tuesday, just grunted at me when I tried to talk to her about it. They've put her on report, which she's doing abysmally at, and they're starting to threaten exclusions. It's only her first year there.”
“She’s been through so much.”
“Oh I know. I wish there was something I could do.”
He nodded. “So do I. But she's run away from home before. All we can really do is… be here. Make sure she knows she’s safe here, that she can talk to us if she needs to.”
“Do you ever wonder if we’ve bitten off more than we can chew?”
“All the time. But at the same time, can you imagine if we’d done nothing?”
The next few days were long, working well into the evening. This meant a few frustrating days away from the children, away from Megan. But on Saturday morning he was finally back, supervising homework while Megan went shopping. Or at least, helping Mars with his English while Charley scowled at the table.
“Anything I can do to help you?”
“No.”
He shrugged. “Let me know if that changes.” He got up and wandered out of the kitchen to check on Mika.
“No, Sammy, das not nice. You have to be nice.”
“But I’m a bad dragon.”
“Not anymore. I say you have to be nice, otherwise I won’t be friends with you.”
“But being nice is boring.”
Tom crept silently to the doorway and looked in. Mika, on the floor, surrounding by dolls. Dolls talking to each other. And the moment of uncertainty – reveal his presence, and cut this off? Or creep away silently and let her carry on? He could creep in quietly and wait for her to notice him, but would she feel betrayed by that?
He walked in, taking a teddy from the sofa as he passed. Crouching down to her level to shuffle towards her before she noticed him. Teddy could interrupt.
“Hello, can I be friends? I’m a good bear, I’m always nice to people.”
Her head snapped up, and he wanted to cry at the alarm in her eyes. Should he have left her to it?
“You can come to mine for tea if you want. I have lots of cake, but I don’t have any friends to share it with.” He sat back, cross legged, the bear on his lap. Mika needed to get used to people hearing her voice, needed to realise that there was nothing to fear. “Hello Mika. Bear heard Sammy Dragon and Doll talking and wanted to join in.”
A long, frozen silence before Mika reached out and took the two dolls, starting to play with them distractedly.
“It was nice to hear you talking. Were you having fun?”
She blinked and then nodded, a jolting up-down.
“I know you find it very hard, that’s okay. You’ll get the hang of it. And you’re very good at telling me things without talking, aren’t you?”
She nodded again, thumb straying to her mouth.
“You’re a very brave girl. Now, do you want me to play with you?”
Her nod was enthusiastic now.
“That’s my girl.”
He was used to silent play now, but there was a hope. She was losing the fear, slowly – he could see her mouthing words, every now and then. Tom made the sound effects, roaring for the dragon and then doing the nee-naw of a fire engine swerving in to join the action. Create a positive environment to reduce anxiety, that was what the advice said. In the absence of any source of professional help, he’d just have to do his best.
“I’m going out.”
He looked to the doorway. “You are?”
“Mark texted me.” Charley waved her phone, one he’d apparently given her.
“How’s the homework going?” He rose to stand in the hall, between her and the door.
She scowled. “I’ll do it later.”
“No, you will not.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“Charley.” He met her eyes. Please, do as you’re told. Unlike the many clergy under his watch, he had no real power over her. Sometimes, parenting seemed to be a game of bluff.
She pushed past, and he turned to watch her go.
“We can still expect you for lunch?”
She shrugged.
“Have you given me your number for that phone?”
“No.”
“May I have it?”
She shrugged. “I guess.”
He added it to his contacts quickly. “Since this is how you want to do things, have fun. Stay safe. Call me and I will be straight over to get you… should we agree a code word?”
“What the hell is a code word?”
“It’s a word that you can say which sounds innocuous but actually means you’re in trouble. If you say it or text it to me I’ll be straight over.”
“I’m fine, why are you so weird?”
Because this relationship of yours is worrying me, he didn’t say. “I guess I’ve been to too many training days on horrific things happening to ordinary, innocent people. Humour me?”
She sighed loudly. “Mark’s waiting.”
“It needs to be something you can slip in without suspicion. How about you can call or text to ask to stay out late? And if you call me Papa or Megan Mama, we know something’s wrong.”
“Why are you so weird?”
“You’re not going to call either of us that naturally, are you? I mean you can also pretend to order pizza or whatever, that’s a good way of giving your location. If you could tell me where you’re going with Mark now, that’d be really helpful, otherwise you’d have to let me know on the phone.”
“Can we do this later? Mark’s waiting.”
He shrugged. “Call me if you need me.”
She tossed her hair defiantly. “Why do you hate Mark? He cares about me.”
“I’ve just never met him.”
She sighed exaggeratedly. “It's fine, I can look after myself. Bye.”
He watched her go from the door, saw her walk halfway along the road before ducking to get into the passenger seat of a parked car. It pulled out immediately and sped away, and he snapped a photo on his phone. Now it had occurred to him to worry, he couldn’t stop. What fourteen-year-old went to late-night parties at undisclosed locations, with an older boyfriend her parents had never met? She doted on him, and he was certainly generous, but was that necessarily a good thing? She’d been through so much, was obviously vulnerable…
Stop thinking, there’s nothing you can do. Try to stop her and she’ll just run away – she’s done it before, and that without a boyfriend to run to.
Mika tugged at his trouser leg, and he turned around, his face instantly calm. It was a special power, to take a wedding as though one had not just come from the bedside of a dying parishioner. To lock your grief, your fear, your concerns inside where nobody else would be troubled by them. He used that power now, to hide all of his anxiety.
“Sorry, Mika, what did I miss?”
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