“Oh man,” she says. Fern steers me gently away, sliding an arm around my shaking shoulders. “I know me and you don’t hardly know each other but come here. Have a hug. I’m sorry for whatever upset you, honey. Life’s shit sometimes, isn’t it?”
I sniffle and nod, unable to find my voice. She looks at me carefully as she pulls away.
“Want to walk back with me? Bert’s bringing Stevie home about now.”
We link arms as we cross the grass, the sun low in the sky, a faint tinge of smoke on the air.
“You know I heard about Vicky,” Fern tells me gently, “and they’re saying the paramedics got to her in time. She’ll be all right, they reckon.”
We carry on in silence for another moment.
“Everyone’s saying Alice cursed her,” she continues. “Poor Alice. This must all be such a headfuck for her. She could do with getting out of that house, even just for an afternoon, ’cos if enough people start telling you you’re a witch, then sooner or later you’re going to start believing it.”
“I think maybe that’s what they want. The dad, certainly. He’d love her to be a witch, to get a headline out of it. It makes me wonder—”
“Wonder what?” Fern asks, looking at me askance. We pass a honeysuckle bush singing with scarlet blossoms.
“Oh, I don’t know. I feel like I’m losing sight of what I’m here for.”
“To help her.”
“Right. But it’s like this whole town wants the opposite. They’re feeding into the delusion. How am I meant to convince her it’s all in her head if people are outside demanding she talk to their dead relatives?”
Fern conceals a small, secretive smile and squeezes my arm.
“We’re not all bad.”
“Oh Fern, no. No, of course not, I’m sorry. You’ve been lovely, and Bert, too. Alice just needs to get out of that fucking house.”
“Take her to Bert and Mary’s for an hour or two. It’s right next door.”
I think of Alice saying“They used to make us nice dinners and let us help ourselves to the choc ices in the freezer.”How they looked after her and Tamsin after Billy had been born. Then I think of what Bert said about taking in waifs and strays, and something clicks.
“You stayed with them, too, didn’t you? When you were younger. You hinted at it yesterday.”
Fern gives me a small, pointed smile.
“Yeah. Between the ages of thirteen and fifteen, I was too much of a handful for my parents, and Bert and Mary took me in. Lisa, too, when she first got pregnant with Alice, and her mum kicked her out. Me and Mary, we used to drink these cocktails on sun loungers in the garden—”
“Bertinis.” I laugh. “Alice told me about them, too.”
“Ha!Bertinis! That’s right. Pineapple and orange slice on the rim. I thought I was so sophisticated with my straw and my cocktail glass. It was so sweet it hurt your teeth but at the time it tasted like sunshine. Mary would doze off in the sun and me and Bert, we’d—”
She smiles, puzzled.
“What?”
“It’s funny, but I’m struggling to remember. He used to put music on the old record player. Old jazz records. The records sounded scratchy, I guess because they were so old. Huh. My memory is shocking. Last week I called Stevie’s teacher the wrong name and yesterday I nearly burned the flat down because I forgot the chops under the grill—and yet I can tell you the name of every fucking Ninja Turtle! What’s all that about?”
We laugh. It feels good, slowly walking in the sun, leaning into each other as if there are delicious secrets to share. I’m trying to pinpoint this sensation and realize with a hollow shock that it is kindness. No, more than that. It’sfriendship.I hadn’t noticed the absence of it before but for so long it has just been Oscar and me and no one else. I’m worried I’m about to start crying again so I’m relieved to see Bert and Stevie standing on the edge of the green. Stevie is jumping up and down with excitement.
“Bert took me to the park! We fed the ducks!”
“What else did we see?” Bert asks her encouragingly. His silvery hair is swept back from his forehead. “A swan!”
“Wow!” Fern easily matches her daughter’s excitement. “Did you know swans mate for life, Stevie-Beans? That means they stay together forever and ever. Isn’t that cool?”
Stevie’s smile falters a little and her face clouds over. She looks at her mother with narrowed eyes.