One Step Closer to You by Alice Peterson Read Free Book Online Page A

that plaiting lesson. Emily keeps asking for a fish plait?’
    ‘French plait?’
    ‘Yeah, maybe that was it. Who knows, but you sound very clued up in this area, so if a French plait is something you can teach me, I might earn brownie points and Emily might be a bit happier.’
    He mentions her name with little emotion, which unsettlesme. ‘It’s a date. Well, not a date
date
.’ Oh put a sock in it, Polly.
    ‘Shall we meet after school? We can eat Gabriella’s lasagne,’ he says, gesturing to the orange dish. ‘You’d be doing me a favour. She’s cooked enough to feed the south of England.’
    ‘I’d like that.’ I’m not so sure Gabriella would, mind you.
    ‘Good. Well, I’ll see you later.’ And for the first time that morning his smile reaches his eyes and I catch a glimmer of the man he could be, underneath that mask of loneliness.

7
    Ben leads me into his sitting room. I stare at the modern fireplace, the brown leather sofa with matching armchairs that look as if they’ve never been sat upon, and the stark white walls. ‘I’m bored,’ Louis says, clearly realising that this isn’t a child-friendly place. No toy diggers, trucks or toolboxes scattered on the carpet, only pristine wooden floors.
    ‘Why don’t you play a game with Emily?’ I suggest, distracted by a painting with a giant orange splodge in the middle of it.
    Emily edges away from us as if we’re poisonous. She hasn’t said a word since we collected her from school. I can’t imagine what’s going on inside her head. She probably doesn’t know either. She must be confused and scared, yet unable to express it, and from the little I know about Ben, I doubt he can help her either, especially when he’s grieving too.
    ‘Do you want to read your book, Emily?’ Ben asks, as ifreading from a script. ‘Or have a snack before dinner? Juice? Watch television?’
    Unsurprisingly they opt for television and a juice.
    I follow Ben into the white kitchen, with nothing on the counters except a music system and coffee machine. In the middle of the room is an island with two modern silver stools. He opens the fridge, reaches for the milk and two cartons of apple juice. He switches on the kettle. ‘Cup of tea?’
    ‘Thanks,’ I say, feeling faintly uncomfortable in this show home. I look at Louis and Emily watching television, their mouths wide open like goldfish. ‘The moment that thing is on, they turn into zombies.’
    Ben hands me a mug. ‘Emily probably watches too much, but I don’t know what else to do with her. She won’t play with her toys.’
    Toys? What toys?
    I saw you at the meeting
.
    ‘Maybe she needs counselling,’ Ben continues.
    ‘Um. Maybe.’
    Throwing money at the problem probably isn’t the answer. But then again, if he can’t talk to her
 …
    I look around the kitchen. She needs a home filled with fun and love. She needs to understand what’s going on. I have no idea how a child sees death. It’s frightening enough for an adult to lose a parent, so what does it mean for Emily? She needs Ben to talk to her about Grace to keep her memoryalive. Does she ask questions, like Louis is beginning to with his father? It’s hard for Louis to understand why he has no dad when the man is still alive.
    Louis jolts me from my thoughts, saying he needs the loo.
    ‘Sure. Just round the corner, last room on right,’ Ben says. Louis wants me to come with him, clingy when we’re not at home.
    As we walk down the hallway, hand-in-hand, I can’t help taking a quick peep into Ben’s room. There’s an exercise bike and double bed, a bedside table with nothing on it. No photographs or things that tell me anything about him. This flat isn’t a home; it’s more like a stage where the actors don’t know their lines. We all have four walls around us that can be filled with laughter, hope, security, love and all other kinds of feelings. These walls house sadness. When Matthew and I lived together they housed fear.
    *
    We