Talk to Me, Toffee
Dont be scared, Toffee! Its all right! Theyll shout a little longer and then settle down I think
Little Emily hugged her loyal companion even tighter and squeezed her eyes shut. She mustnt be frightened; after all, she was grown up now. Thats what Granny Nancy always said. Now she was five, she was supposed to be big. She had even stopped crying when she got jabbed at the doctors. Embarrassing, otherwise! Only with Toffeeher scruffy, bandy-legged teddy bearcould Emily let herself be as small as she really felt. Toffee had seen her every way. Mum had given her Toffee the day she was born. Best friend in the world. She could tell him anything. Hed never tattle like her best friend Sophie did, running to the teacher with every secret. Toffee just listened with his big button eyes, silent and knowing. When Emily was afraid, like now, he made her feel better. Softer, at least familiar. Mum and Dad were supposed to be familiar too, but when they shouted, they grew prickly and strange. Hard to explain, but it was as if brambles suddenly sprouted everywhere like in Sleeping Beautys castleimpossible to approach, no matter how much you wanted to yell, no one could really hear.
Emily couldnt understand what her parents even argued about. Werent grown-ups supposed to sort things out, find the right language Granny Nancy called it that, anyway, though the rest was a muddle. Maybe grown-ups didnt have little upsetsmaybe their problems were enormous. Emily had never met such big upset, but now she knew they existed. They must be horrible if even her tiny oneslike when she fell out with Sophiewere so nasty that ice cream didnt even help, just made her want to cry even more. Enormous upsets must be much, much worse.
Emily opened her eyes and listened. Silence at last. That meant Mum had gone to cry in the bathroom, Dad would be sulking in the kitchen, and it was time for her to act. Emily slid out from behind the bed where shed been hiding, clutching Toffee, and sighed. Her room looked lovely nowwhite bed with a pink duvet, a pretty wardrobe for every dress, shelves groaning under the weight of toys she kept forgetting she had. She didnt want to leave. Here, now it was quiet, it almost felt safe again.
But Toffee stared at her with those solemn eyes. Emily sniffed.
I get it! I know! You just wait. Ill go on my own this time.
Propping Toffee on the pillow, she slipped from her room. Mum first; always hardest. The bathroom door shut as usual. Emily gave a gentle knock.
Mum?
Yes?
Can I come in?
The door creaked open and there sat Mum, perching on the bath edge, tissues already clutched.
Whats up, love? Need a wee?
No. I want you. Emily took a deep, steeling breath and stepped into the bathroom. This bit was always sadMum would cry and hug her tight, promise everything would be fine. Emily would cry too, not because she felt sorry for Mum, but because she was certain things would never be fine again. Good things always ran out fast, like Sophie said. She was probably right. Things were only good for a couple of days, then the brambles grew back, all prickles and pain.
Emily wiped her eyes and studied Mum.
Why?
Why what, darling?
Why do you keep shouting at each other? If you dont love each other, maybe you should stay apart. Granny Nancy said that when Sophie and I argued, if you keep apart, its harder to fight.
Mum froze, staring at her little girl. Emily had never asked before; Mum and Dads rows had seemed, to Mum at least, hidden from their daughter. How much had Emily really seen?
Em, what on earth why do you say that? I love Dad
Thats not true, Mum.
Emily!
If you loved him, you wouldnt shout like that. You dont shout at me, do you?
Mum wavered, unable to answer. How could she explain to a child that relationships were complicatedthat shouting didnt always mean you hated someone? Or did it? Such a simple questionwhy. How could she answer?
You should really sit and think about your behaviour. Thats what. Emily dabbed bitter tears from Mums cheeks with warm little hands.
Is that more of Granny Nancys advice? Mum tried to smile through her tears.
Yes! And shes right. Sophie and I made up. We fight much less nowmostly when she tries to get me in trouble with Miss Andrews.
My, youve grown Mum pulled Emily into her arms.
No, Mum, Im little. If I were big, Emily wriggled out of Mums hug and whispered, I wouldnt be so scared.
What are you frightened of? Mum frowned.
What if next time you and Dad argue, you both go away?
Go? Where?
Somewhere quiet. You cant stay where its horrible forever, can you? Youre sad, arent you, Mum?
Yes, I Wait, you think wed leave you? Is that what youre afraid of?
Yes Emily finally broke down in tears. Then Toffee would be all alone. What if he got lost again, like in the taxi? What if I was all alone? Granny Nancy said shes too old to be a mummy now!
Oh, Em. My darling, stop it! I would never leave you. I couldnt. Youre my child!
Doesnt feel like it when you both shout. You forget about me, dont you?
Of course, we never we never Mum suddenly stopped short. Her daughter was right. In those moments, she forgot everyoneeverything but the great stinging pain. Where did those terrible words, sharp as whips, suddenly come from? When did she become like this?
Emily peered up, waiting. Mum had gone quietlost in thoughts, not tears. That meant it was Dads turn.
Ill be back, Emily slipped out of Mums arms. Just dont cry anymore, all right?
In the kitchen, Dad sat slumped at the table, staring out at the shadowy garden. Emily marched in.
Daddy?
Emmy! What are you doing up?
Its not bedtime! You and Mum were shouting
Im sorry.
Why though?
Shouting?
Yes.
I I dont know. We didnt mean to.
Are you cross with Mum too? Emily peered into his tired face. She should have said all this before. Shed just hidden away with Toffee, thinking it wasnt her businessso silly. When she and Sophie fought, Miss Andrews had sat them down and made them tell her everything. Then shed asked: Is it better not to be friends?
Did Mum say she was cross with me? Dad drew Emily close, breathing in her scent.
No! I know myself.
How?
When you love Mum you give her a cuddle. She smiles. When youre cross, you shout. Right?
Dad looked long at her and smiled gently.
Youve grown up, havent you?
Mum said the same thing.
What else did she say?
She said she loves you. And me.
Emily watched Dads face. His frown softened, eyes less raw now. Satisfied, she slid from his lap.
Ill go back to Toffee. Hes scared alone.
Of course. Dad watched her pad back down the hall, filled with regret. When had things got so bad that even Emily noticed? He couldnt recall. Somehow the arguments had crept inafter Emily was born, after nights of sleeplessness and worry, after one snapping remark too many. He missed the old Ollyher shining smile, her gentle warmth that drew him close.
He remembered the afternoon Emily ran a feverhow helpless hed felt, lashing out in panic at Olly:
What are you sobbing for? Does that help her? Pull yourself together! What sort of mother are you?
Shed stopped crying not because his words soothed her, but because something inside snapped. She just pressed her lips to Emilys forehead, didnt even notice the fever had broken.
Hed tried to apologise, but it was too late; after that, only routine words about Emily passed between them. No Olly, not really. He resented it, tried to provoke a responseeven an argumentanything. But the only spark that remained was bitterness.
A memory surfaced: his own mother, years ago, giving him advice.
Take responsibility. Thats what women want. Even if shes at fault, think about what you did first. Sometimes it really is both your fault… Think about what you could have done differently. Make sure she knows you value herlike you did before you married her. Thats the secret.
Now, alone in the silent kitchen, Dad closed his eyes, remembered, and quietly muttered, Thanks, Mum
Meanwhile, Emily crawled back into bed, snuggling Toffee up close, one hand around Mums neck where shed finally dozed off, face crumpled and tired. Emily carefully stroked the furrow between Mums browsit hadnt always been there. Mum sighed, the lines eased. Emily hugged her gently and closed her eyes. Let tomorrow be a kind day. Shed heard that phrase many times, but it never quite felt real. Squeezing her eyes tight, she made a wish.
Of course, Mum slept through her alarm the next morning because it sat in Emilys rooman adorable little kitten clock. They were late for nursery and Mum was late for work too, but today, thankfully, there was nothing urgent.
She heard a clink from the kitchena teaspoon against a mug. Strange, Dad was still home. Mum washed up quickly, hoping maybe hed rush out before she had to say anything, but no such luck. When she entered, Dad was by the stove, a battered old saucepan of coffee on the go.
Morning, he muttered, exhausted, his eyes rimmed with red.
Mum opened her mouth to reply, but stopped short at the sight of the kitchen table. A lopsided homemade cake sat atop it, proudly decorated with garish icing roses. Definitely his own workhed have taken all night, and even found the piping nozzles shed misplaced months ago.
She glanced at him, speechless. He approached, kitchen tea towel still over his shoulder.
Im sorry, Olly. For everything. Ive been a rotten husband. I havent paid attention, Ive blamed you for everything. You and Emily are the best things in my life. But if not for you, thered be no Emily. I know I cant fix everything, but maybe youll give me another chance?
Mum looked hard at him, searching. Then stepped forward and gently covered his lips with her hand.
Were both to blame. Youre right. I need to thinkabout a lot. Seriously.
How longll that take?
Oh, about seven months
Dad stared, nonplussed.
What? Why are you looking at me like that? Yes, youve understood.
He was still flummoxed when the kitchen door banged open and Emily padded in, clutching Toffee and rubbing her eyes.
Are you friends again yet?
Mum and Dad exchanged glances.
Whoa! Whys there cake? Can you have cake for breakfast?
Today you can! Dad squeezed Mum, whispering, I love you. Give me a chance.
You give me one too, Mum whispered back, turning to Emily. But girls who havent washed their faces dont get cake.
Ill be quick! Two slices please, Mumone for me, one for Toffee!
Teddy bears dont eat cake, silly.
Thats why hes got meneeds help!
* * *
Years later, Olly strode quickly along the path in Hyde Park, pushing the pram as she hurried to collect Emily from school. Little Freddie woke at precisely the wrong moment, whimpering for attention. Olly bent over him, but warm, familiar arms circled her gently.
Let me, said Dad, scooping up their son. Well wait for you here.
Olly smiled and hurried to the gates. Tomorrow was the start of school holidaystickets for Cornwall (not Blackpool, at Emilys insistence) were bought, bags packed, Freddies first trip to the sea lined up. So much had happened in three yearsthe effort to restore closeness, the two months when Olly had lived with Emily at Granny Nancys, and their reconciliation, thanks in no small part to Dads mother. Grannys passing, Freddies birth, his first steps and words.
Olly laughed, remembering. Freddies first word hadn’t been MummyDad had preened, teasing her as he grinned at his son, Thats my boy! Daddy!
At Emilys very first assembly, shed stood tall in her new blue ribbons, so nervous she nearly matched their colour, but after a moments hesitation, she managed itwalking into the new world without a backwards glance.
Mum!
Emmy! Olly scooped her up. How did it go?
Brilliantly! Miss Jennings said only two perfect pupilsme and Sophie.
Well done, love! Olly hugged her tight.
Where are Dad and Freddie?
Waiting in the park.
Good. What about Toffee?
Where would we be without Toffee? Olly laughed. Hes in the pram.
Emily sighed with relief. She had given her best friend to her baby brother, because you had to share the best things with the people you loved most. That didnt mean she wasnt missing him, though. She could always tell Mum exactly what she felt.
As her parents walked ahead, gently passing Freddie between them and quietly debating over something silly, Emily bent over the pram and whispered to her old friend:
What do you thinkdo you reckon its all going to be all right now?
Toffee just looked up at her with his wide, button eyes. Silent as ever. But Emily thought, just for a second, that she might have finally heard his answerShe waited for Toffees replya giggle, a word, just some signbut Toffee, ever loyal, stayed quiet. And somehow, that was answer enough. For she remembered: Toffee didnt need to speak for Emily to know what he meant.
She tucked him in beside Freddie, who yawned, clutching Toffee close. Emily felt something like a glow light up her chestwarm, brave, and small. She skipped to catch up to her parents, letting her arms stretch and brush their hands, feeling the grown-up strength and the silly, tickly softness of her family all in one tangle.
Just then, a gust rustled through the leaves, and Emily grinned up at the blue sky. Life would never be perfect and sometimes brambles would growbut cake for breakfast was possible, teddy bears could be shared, and wishes, sometimes, did come kind.
She squeezed both their hands, heart thumping with quiet hope, and thought: tomorrow, and the day after, and all the days to come, shed tell Toffee everything. And Toffee would always listen. And together, even on not-so-kind days, they would find a way through.
Because sometimes, all you needed was someone to talk toand someone who listened, even if their only answer was love.
