“She was all right, recovered, she’d been singing, I’d heard her. I’d worked in the darkroom most of the rest of that day, exposing trees and holes in the road. When I’d finished I was dazzled and despondent. They didn’t add up to anything. Every print shouted, so what? And there were the blown-up faces of Robin and Billie, and Richard’s dark eyes shining innocence of what was about to happen. I thought, what if I go back, now, I could, I could just go back. There is nothing here I would not lea...ve like that, a snap of the fingers, without a backward glance. Standing among the glossy familiar faces, I allowed myself a day-dream. I could be back in a few hours. I imagined walking in. The gasps of surprise, the children’s delight. Robin running to me, jumping up, his legs round me, hard shoes, wet kisses on my cheek. An open baby smile from Billie who might say ‘Mama’ for the first time, seeing me, remembering me. My face buried in her velvet fragrant skin. Richard’s more measured relief, his firm lips against mine, his dark eyes promising, later … Precious infant bodies in the bath, clean pyjamas, kisses, stories.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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