Promises, Lies and Family Ties

Chapter Twenty

Saturday 18th March

The sharp knock on the door makes Taylor and Sophie flinch. Nathan huffs out a deep sigh, lifting himself wearily from the chair at the table. “I’ll get it,” he says. What Sophie hears is I don’t want to do this. There’s a myriad of reasons, too, none of which he’s voiced but all them she knows. They’re written all over his tired face.

They hurt me.

They hurt you.

They left.

I need them, but they don’t want this.

They’re disappointed in me – I’m disappointed in them.

The list is never-ending but not one of the things on it stopped Nathan from agreeing to talk to Clara this chilly Saturday morning. Sophie’s hand instinctively slides down to stroke the still small but very there bump Nathan’s hands have become attached to despite the fact that they both know he won’t be able to feel anything for quite some time yet. Heck, even Sophie can’t feel anything yet.

The click of the front door closing has Sophie’s head snapping up towards the doorway nervously. Clara appears just ahead of Nathan. Her eyes are wide, regretful, as she takes in the teenager’s clothes and stance. The contents of the holdall she owns are in the washing machine, leaving her in Nathan’s short sleeved blue t-shirt and a pair of his blue plaid boxers – clothes Clara insisted Taylor bring home with him on Thursday evening. As moisture gathers in her eyes Sophie realises the significance of the clothes she’s wearing. Along with the bag of clothes she sent for Nathan there was another bag full of clothes that would fit Sophie.

She hasn’t even looked in there other than to deduce that there’s nothing of Nathan’s inside, so the bag still sits behind the sofa with the rest of their possessions.

“Hello, Sophie,” Clara says in a hushed tone, obviously upset but trying to keep herself together.

Sophie nods, not at all sure what to do or say in this situation.

“Sit down, Mum. I’ll get you a drink,” Nathan mutters, brushing Sophie’s hip with his hand in a reminder that he’s here, she’s ok, and most importantly, nothing bad will happen if she just relaxes. Nobody speaks in the few minutes it takes for Nathan to make his mum a coffee, but once the two women are sitting with him standing behind Sophie, hands clasping her shoulders in gentle reassurance, he lets loose a ragged sigh that sounds more like a whine.

“I don’t know what to say to you,” he admits.

Clara gazes at him morosely, drinking in the sight of her son. This is the longest she’s gone without seeing any of her children so to say that she’s relieved just to be in the same house as him is a massive understatement only overshadowed by the knowledge that it was partly her actions that caused this separation. “I’m so, so sorry, piccolo tesoro. I can’t even express how mortified I am to know that you were forced to leave your home because of-” A choked sob stops her apology in its tracks.

Instead of assuming that she’s doing it to guilt them, Sophie immediately feels a pang of sympathy for her unborn child’s grandmother. She obviously feels terrible. It’s the slight tensing of Nathan’s hand on her shoulder that reminds Sophie not to feel too sorryfor Clara. After all, she and Liam have hurt Nathan immensely, and he is where her priority lies now.

Straightening up on the chair and reaching up to hold one of Nathan’s clammy hands in her much smaller one, Sophie offers him a reassuring half-smile over her shoulder before facing his mum again, a warm glow spreading from head to toe when he leans down to press a grateful kiss to her hair.