Tears of shame stream down Mercia’s face. For a second she thinks of fudging, of rephrasing to cover up, but no, Sylvie deserves nothing but the truth.
No, of course I don’t think anything of the sort. He is your child. Of course I can’t take him away. It’s a misunderstanding, a mistake. I thought. . Jake wrote to say that you wanted me to take Nicky, and then you asked me. Just as I left last time. Remember?
Sylvie stands with her arms flung out, ready to take on the world. She gesticulates wildly. I asked if you would help out. It was difficult; I’d rather not have help, but his education must come first. I meant help with his education. Her voice drops as she says, I’ll need money for that. Then she shouts, I’m his mother. Even a sheep screams when its lamb is taken, so how could I have asked you to take him away? What do you think I am? Jake was mad, poisoned by drink. How could you have believed him?
Mercia says please could they stop this conversation. She is sorry, deeply embarrassed. She should have known better. She would be very glad to help with Nicky’s education, but first, would Sylvie forgive her. At which point Nicky arrives, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
Why are they shouting? he asks. And his mother says no, they are not. That everything is sorted out. Everything is fine. That one day he will visit Auntie Mercy in England.