Page 22 of All the Things We Never Knew

‘They’ve probably taken out the E numbers or something,’ I attempted to joke. ‘Where’s the fun in it now?’

But Gray didn’t laugh. He ate another microscopic spoonful, then handed the bowl back to me.

‘I’m sorry, Anna. Maybe custard?’

‘Or ice cream?’ I suggested.

‘Maybe. I’ll come downstairs in a bit. But would you mind closing that window? It’s freezing.’

It wasn’t, but I closed it anyway and then sat down on the bed.

‘Gray? Speaking of coming downstairs, I was talking to the district nurse the other day. She called just – you know. Just to see how we’re doing.’

‘Well, next time you can tell her we’re managing splendidly,’ he said bitterly.

Ignoring his harshness, I carried on. ‘She was saying they could arrange a bed for you downstairs. You might be more comfortable in… you know. A proper one.’

‘A hospital bed?’

I nodded. ‘And you’d be closer to the kitchen and stuff. You wouldn’t need to manage the stairs.’

‘And you wouldn’t have to run up and down two flights of stairs to bring me my kids’ party food.’

‘I don’t mind doing that.’

‘You might not now. But it’ll get very old, very quickly.’

‘It’s fine.’ I put my hand on his knee, feeling its boniness through the duvet. ‘I mean… you want to stay here, right? Here at home.’

‘To die peacefully in my own bed with the cat next to me, like Terry Pratchett?’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Living the dream,’ he said. ‘Or rather, not living it. Here’s the thing, Anna…’

‘What?’

He shook his head.

I said, ‘Gray. This is shit, right? It’s shit for everyone, but it’s most shit for you. If you want custard, I’ll get you custard. If you want me to run up the stairs five times a day, I’ll do that. If you want…’

I shrugged helplessly, unable to imagine what else he might want that I could give him.

But he told me. ‘If I want Laurel to come here and see me, you’ll be okay with that?’

I closed my eyes, staring towards the window, the brightness of the spring day creating scarlet patterns on my eyelids. Seeing red – I was literally doing that. I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms.

‘I see,’ Gray said. ‘You’d do anything for me, but you won’t do that.’

‘It’s my home.’ I opened my eyes again and looked at him. His face was set in the stubborn lines I knew so well, from so many arguments.

‘And my home,’ he said.

‘And the children’s.’

‘The children will be at school.’

That was true – Gray and I, together with Barney and Lulu and the school’s head of pastoral care, had agreed that it was best for them to continue with their normal routine for as long as possible.