Have a chat with me, Muffin
“Dont be afraid, Muffin. Its alright. Theyll shout a bit more and then settle down I think
Little Emily hugged her faithful friend closer and shut her eyes. She wasnt supposed to be scared. Not anymore. She was already five. Granny Margaret had said so. If she was five, she was grown-up now. Everyone seemed to treat her as bigger now. Shed even stopped crying when she had injections. It was embarrassing, after all! Only with Muffin could she still be her old selfsmall and young at heart. Muffin had seen her at her very smallest. Her mother had given her the funny, slightly pigeon-toed teddy bear the day she was born. Muffin was her very best friend. She could tell him absolutely anything. Hed never run off and tattletale to Mrs. Jenkins, like her friend Annie did. Hed just sit quietly, gazing with those round button eyes, never saying a word, but always understanding. And when things were frighteninglike nowhe brought comfort. He was soft, and hed always been hers.
Mum and Dad were hers, too, but when they shouted at each other, it felt like they became prickly, almost like they grew invisible brambles all around the housejust like in Sleeping Beauty. No one could get close, and shouting didnt help in the end; no one was ever really heard. Emily couldnt understand why parents fought. They were adults after allwhy did they get upset? Grown-ups were supposed to sort things out, find a way to talk it through at least, that’s what Granny Margaret always said. Maybe their hurts werent little, like childrens, but proper, grown-up resentmentsbig ones. Emily didnt know any real big hurts yet, but she guessed they must be terrible. Even normal, little upsets, like when she argued with Annie, were so nasty they made her feel too rotten for ice cream, only good for tears. Proper grown-up hurts must be worse than that.
She opened her eyes and listened. Quiet, at last. That likely meant Mum had locked herself in the bathroom for a cry, and Dad sat sulking at the kitchen table. Now was her moment. Emily climbed from the floor, behind her little bed, and sighed. Her room really was lovelyMum had even asked her opinion about everything, right down to the wallpaper and the white bed with its pink blankets. Her dresses fit perfectly in the beautiful wardrobe, and she had shelves crammed with so many toys she sometimes forgot which ones she had. She never wanted to leave. It felt peaceful here, almost quiet now. But Muffin was looking at her, and again she gave a tiny sob.
I know, I know. Just wait here, alright? Ill go myself.
Placing her bear on the pillow, Emily left her room. Mum always came firstit was more difficult with her. The bathroom door was closed, as ever. Emily gave it a gentle knock.
Mum?
Yes?
Can I come in?
The door opened, and Emily saw her mothersitting on the edge of the bath, eyes red.
Do you need the loo, love?
No. I just wanted to be with you, Emily said, filling her chest with brave air and stepping inside. She always found this part hard. Mum would cry more, squeeze her close, and promise everything would be fine. Emily would cry toonot just because she felt sorry for her mum, but because she knew things really wouldnt be fine. They never really were. Good times, as Annie put it, happened only now and then, but the prickly brambles always grew back before long.
Emily wiped her eyes, looking up at her mum.
But why?
Why, darling?
Why do you always shout? If you dont like each other, maybe you should keep apart? Thats what Granny Margaret says. When Annie and I argued, she said if we kept away from each other we wouldnt keep rowing.
Her mother, Sarah, froze, staring at Emily. Until this day, Emily had never spoken about what went on at home. Sarah always assumed Emily was too little to notice their rows, that she couldn’t quite understand.
Emily, sweetheart why would youhow could you say that? I do love your father
Youre fibbing, Mum.
Emily!
If you loved him, you wouldnt shout like that. You dont shout at me, do you?
Sarah was stuck for words. How did you explain to a child that grown-ups feelings are complicated? Shouting didnt mean hate or did it? Such a simple questionwhy? How could she ever answer?
You need to sit and think about your actions. Thats what you always tell me, Emily said, patting her mothers cheeks and brushing the tears away.
Thats what Granny Margaret always says, isnt it? Sarah smiled sadly through the tears.
It is! And shes right. I made up with Annieand now we only argue when she tattles to Mrs. Jenkins about me.
Youve grown so big Sarah hugged her daughter tightly.
Im still little, Mum, Emily whispered, drawing back. If I were really big well, I wouldnt be so frightened, would I?
What are you afraid of? Sarahs forehead creased with worry.
What if next time you and Dad shout and one of you goes away?
Goes where?
Somewhere quiet. You cant stay where its horrid all the time, can you? You feel horrid, dont you, Mum?
I do, darling but waitare you frightened well leave you? Is that it?
Yes Emily burst into tears at last. And Muffin would be left here. And if he got lost again, like in that taxi, Id have no one at all. I asked Granny Margaret but she said shes too old to play mum
Emily! Hush now, darling, I would never leave you. Not ever! Youre my little girl.
But when you and Dad shout like that, do you even remember me? Emily sobbed.
Sarah hesitated. Her daughter was right, painfully so. When the arguments started, she forgot everythingforgot herself, and everyone else, as fury and hurt devoured her. Where did all those cruel words come from? When did she start?
Shed met James at university, first year. Shed sped through the corridor, late for her exam, and crashed into a tall, awkward boyhis glasses crashed to the floor and shattered, and all shed managed was a frantic Sorry! before dashing into the exam hall. She passed with flying colours and left the university that day skipping, excited about the summer, a holiday by the seaside fast approaching.
He was waiting outside, squinting, smiling awkwardly.
“Hello, Express Train. Rushing somewhere else?”
Thats what he always called herhis little engine, especially when she pouted.
You puff along so sweetly, hed laugh. I cant be cross with you!
Even the midwives chuckled as he shouted during the birth:
Dont puff, Little Engine! Push!
When had he stopped calling her that? When had he stopped teasing during rows and started truly fuming? When had they begun to quarrel at all?
Mum?
Yes, sweetheart?
Are you so cross with Dad?
Sarah ran her fingers through Emilys curlsso much like her fathers. Shed always hoped Emily would inherit his wild hair.
Just not mine! Why should a girl have fine, wispy hair?
Nonsense! You have lovely hair!
I have a wonderful hairdresser and a good cut. If she gets your thick mop and my eyes, shell drive all the boys mad!
And so it happened: a head of gold curls and the clearest blue eyes. Emily would be beautiful growing upshe already was. Sarah caught herself smiling, remembering what her own mother used to sayyou just had to pick the right father for your children. James was the right one, and he adored Emily, she was the centre of his worldmore than Sarah herself, she sometimes feared. She shuddered at the thought, jealous of her own daughter. But that was how it was.
Sarah remembered how, after work, James would brush past her in the hallway to scoop up Emily with a tired peck on the cheek for Sarah.
Wheres my princess! Here she is! Ive brought chocolate, your favourite!
Theyd watch a filmhed plug in his headphones, entirely lost to her, and Sarah would put Emily to bed and tidy up alone.
In the car, hed sing along with Emily, ignoring Sarah, then ask her about things shed already explained.
Hed shouted at her when Emily was ill. That was the beginning. Two years ago, Emily had a high fever, and Sarah sat up all night, exhausted. The doctor reassured her, but worry gnawed all the same. Utterly spent by evening, Sarah weptand James had snapped at her:
Why are you crying? Does it help her? Pull yourself together! What sort of mother are you?
Shed stopped crying, but not because she was calm. Something inside her snapped tight. Shes a bad mother The world seemed to lose its colour. But Emily did recoverand those painful days were pushed aside. The sense of worthlessness, however, remained. Was that a grown-ups real big hurt?
Emily watched her mother, silent, thoughtful. Now that the crying had passed, it was time to see Dad.
Ill be back soon.
Emily slipped from her mothers arms and opened the bathroom door.
No more tears, understood?
Sarah didnt reply, staring into space, daydreaming through memories. So much had gone wrong but there had been good times, too.
She remembered their early courtshiphow Jamess eyes darkened with longing behind his glasses.
You look at me so oddly
Youre so beautiful. I just cant fathom why me?
Youre not bad yourself! shed tease, watching for the shy glimmer in his eyes to return. Its because youre the best.
Why had she always known what to say then, but now she was utterly lost?
She recalled Emilys birth, first steps, first word, their first family holiday. When Sarah returned to work, her first deal had gone superbly. James had made a cake in celebrationsickly sweet, crumbling, but sincere. Shed nearly wept throwing away the leftovers.
Ill make you another, hed promised. Well wrap it in a box like at a royal wedding, and keep it for a hundred years!
Theyd bought their flat, sat eating off the floor, furniture only a dream, gazing at Emily peacefully snuffling on a blow-up mattress.
Suppose we have another girl? James mused, hugging Sarah.
Another one?
Id never stop at just one! But no more until we have a house; weve only two rooms as it is.
In the end, there was just one child. Problems grew and grew: first little spats, then big onesneedless words and complaints that landed on their cramped flat like lead weights, or, if you listened to Emily, sharpened brambles that jabbed at the heart.
Sarah splashed her face with cold water. Enough! Good, bad, who could tally them up? Emily was right. If the hurt remained, nothing would change. They needed either to make peace, or part. For a moment, Sarah wondered about life without Jamesno one to tuck in Emily, no one to hug at night. The thought chilled her.
Meanwhile, Emily trotted down the hall to the kitchen. Dad sat in his dressing gown, staring out the window.
Dad?
Emmy! Not asleep yet?
Its not late! Emily clambered onto his lap. You were shouting
Im sorry.
Youre sorry for what?
Shouting?
Mmm. Why did you?
I I dont know. These things just happen.
Are you cross with Mum?
Emily studied his face. She should have spoken to them both sooner, not just hid holding Muffin and waiting. When shed fought with Annie, Mrs. Jenkins had made them sit side by side and say everything out loud. And then shed asked if it was a good thing, not being friends.
Did Mum say she was cross? James pressed his nose into Emilys curls, breathing in her sweet scent.
No. I just know.
How?
When you love each other you give Mum a cuddle. And she smiles. But if you dont, you both shout. Isnt that right?
James leaned back, taking in Emilys growing face.
What a big girl you are.
Mum said the same thing.
And what else did she say?
She said she loves you. And me.
James face softenedthe frown vanished, the hard lines around his eyes melted. Emily, satisfied, slipped off his lap.
Im going back to Muffin, hell be lonely.
Good idea, James murmured, lost in thought. When had it all started? When had ordinary life turned into rowing and bitterness? With Emilys birth, Sarah seemed further awayalways with Emily, always busyand the warmth that had drawn him to her felt gone, or unreachable. James remembered how he always felt, somehow, in the wrong; how Sarah seemed tense, distant, lips tight when he came home. It had been wrong to retreat, to withdraw even furtherbut he felt powerless to change now. The tipping moment had come when Emily fell ill and hed snapped in desperation. Then thered been that final cruel row
Its only Emily keeping us together. If not for her
He remembered the way Sarah had simply turned to stone. Only a moment before, shed been shouting with earnest passion, but after that, the light in her eyes was gone. After that, they barely spoke except where it concerned Emily.
James sighed and stood up. The flat was still; Sarah was putting Emily to bed. Out the window, the lights next door flickered in the darkness, each square holding another life, filled with its own joys and miseries. What would it be like if Sarah left, taking Emily? His world would echo hollow, void of meaningbecause all meaning lived in those green-blue eyes, in the ones he loved. He remembered a conversation with his mother, years before, before hed ever known Sarah.
Always take the blame, James. A woman appreciates that.
How do I do that?
If shes upset, ask yourself what youve done. Maybe sometimes youre not at fault, but in family life, you usually both are. The man, though, always bears more.
Why?
Because women follow. Its rare one leads. If she feels safe and cared for, life is easy. But remember, she isnt made of iron.
What does that mean?
Dont just leave her to cope alone. Never let her suffer in silence. If her hands are free for just an hour a day, youre doing well. And treat her after you marry as you did before.
Meaning?
Before the wedding, shes your greatest fortune. Treat her as a precious vase, not just the everyday. Dont let that fade.
Why talk about wives? I just want to know about girls!
Ill tell you, love. Every girl is someones wife or darling one day. You think its far away, but remember this and say thank you one day.
James ran a hand over his face and smiled faintly. Thank you, Mum
Minutes passed before he opened the fridge for some milk.
Emily couldnt sleep that night. With one arm wrapped around Muffin and the other hugging her mother, she watched her mothers tired, sad face. Emily gently stroked the crease between her mothers browsit hadnt always been there. Sarah sighed in her sleep and the crease smoothed. Emily cuddled in closer and squeezed her eyes shut tight. She wished, really wished, that tomorrow would be a good day. Shed heard that phrase so often, but in truth, good days never seemed to come as promised. She squeezed her eyes tighter, making a secret wish.
Sarah didnt hear the alarmit was in the bedroom, after all. Waking late, she glanced at the silly kitten-shaped clock in Emilys room and gasped. Theyd be late for nursery. And she would be late for work, but, thankfully, nothing urgent beckoned. From the kitchen came the clink of a teaspoon. James was still at home? Strange. Sarah tiptoed down the corridor. Maybe hed leave before she finished washing; she wouldnt have to talk to him at all.
But her hope was in vain. She pushed open the kitchen door and there he stood, boiling coffee in a little pot. And at the tablea cake. Lopsided and decorated with outrageously sugary buttercream roses, obviously homemade. Why? He must have been up half the night. Somehow, hed even found the piping nozzles shed lost a month ago.
Sarah opened her mouthbut stared instead at the mess on the table. James came towards her.
Forgive me, Sarah. For everything. Im a wretched husband. I know Im to blame for so muchfor not noticing, for blaming, for not caring enough. You and Emily are the best things in my life. If not for you, Emily wouldnt exist. I know some things cant be mended, but maybe you could think about it?
Sarah looked at her husband hard, trying to make sense of it, and then moved closer, shutting him up with a hand to his mouth.
Were both guilty, James. Youre right. I do need to think. About a lot of things.
How long will that take?
Oh, at least seven months more.
James stared, puzzled.
Why are you looking at me like that? Yes, youve understood.
James stood there, speechless, as the kitchen door burst open and Emily entered, sleepy-eyed and clutching Muffin.
Have you made up now?
James and Sarah exchanged glances.
Why cake, though? Are you allowed cake for breakfast?
Today you are! James scooped up Sarah, whispering, Give me a chance.
You too! Sarah whispered back. But dirty-faced girls get no cake.
Ill wash! Emily declared, seating Muffin and ordering, Two slices, pleaseone for me, one for Muffin.
Teddy bears dont eat cake
“Thats what Im forhell need help.”
Years later, Sarah would walk through an autumn park with a pram, hurrying to collect her elder daughter from school. Little Freddie would wake, fuss softly, calling for his mum. Shed start to bend over, but Jamess arms would steal round her waist, solid and warm.
Let me, hed say, lifting their son, nodding at Sarah. Well wait here for you.
Sarah would smile and hurry away. Tomorrow, Emily would start her school holidays. Tickets had been bought, suitcases packed, and Freddie would see the sea for the first time. Sarah would look back on the past three yearsthe struggle to rebuild, the months spent living with her parents, the reconciliation made possible, in the end, by Jamess mother. The tough period of losing her mother-in-law. Freddies birthhis first steps and words. The childs first word wasnt Mum. James would strut about, winking, teasing Sarah:
Good ladfirst word was Dad!
Emily, on her very first school assembly day, had looked so serious and a little scared. For a moment theyd thought shed turn the colour of her ribbons, but shed braved it, following her teacher into the building without a backward glance.
Mum!
Emmy! Sarah caught up her daughter. How did it go?
Better than anyone! Miss Collins said there are only two perfect studentsme and Annie.
Well done! Sarah hugged her close.
Wheres Dad? And Freddie?
Theyre waiting in the park.
Thats good. But wheres Muffin?
As if wed ever forget Muffin! Sarah laughed. Hes in the pram.
Emily breathed out. Shed given her little brother her favourite bearafter all, you had to share the best things with your family. She still missed Muffin, even if she pretended otherwisesome things were only for mothers to hear.
Emily watched her parents walking ahead, trading the pram, talking cheerfully, and leaned in close to her friend.
What do you think, Muffin? Is everything alright now?
Muffin gazed up at her with round, knowing eyes, and, though he didnt say a word, Emily felt shed heard the answer.
