Snow Angels, Secrets and Christmas Cake by Sue Watson Read Free Book Online Page B

there, as always, lodged inside my brain, just behind my new recipe for Christmas cake and to the left of a vague worry about paying the latest electricity bill. But Jacob had spent too long watching me distracted – particularly at this time of year, and it was important to me to be with him and enjoy our time together. I asked him about his day, which seemed to consist mainly of playing with the childminder’s cat.
    ‘Mr Fluffy is cute,’ he said, sipping his hot chocolate and licking milky foam from around his mouth.
    ‘Yes, he’s such a cuddly cat, isn’t he?’ I smiled, both hands round my mug in an attempt to warm them.
    ‘Toby said I looked like a girl so Mr Fluffy got him for me.’
    ‘Oh dear. That wasn’t very nice of Toby,’ I said. This wasn’t the first time Jacob had hinted at problems with other kids – boys in particular. My son liked his hair long, just like his dad’s used to be, and we both loved it. Steve had had his own unique style and would often wear whacky T-shirts and long shorts in the summer to work. He had been a teacher like me and his chemistry class had loved his lack of conformity. I could see so much of Steve in Jacob, who also liked his own style and didn’t want to conform, even at the age of six.
    ‘I played ball with Mr Fluffy,’ Jacob was saying. ‘He flew through the air like a big football.’
    I smiled and swallowed my toast in one lump, horrified. ‘You didn’t hurt Mr Fluffy did you?’
    ‘No, but he jumped on Callum because he said I looked like a girl.’
    My heart twisted slightly, the thought of his friends laughing at him, mocking my little boy. It probably hurt me more than it hurt him.
    ‘Do they make fun of your hair?’ I asked.
    He nodded again.
    ‘But you like it long don’t you?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Ignore them. You don’t want to look the same as everyone else do you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Okay.’
    ‘I want to look like daddy.’
    I smiled. ‘Yes you do, and Mummy’s proud of you... and so is Daddy.’
    ‘Can he see my hair? From heaven?’
    ‘Yes of course.’ I felt a burning in the back of my throat, but cleared it pretending to be okay, strong for both of us.
    He seemed okay with this and settled down to finish his toast.
    I sighed, it was so hard being a single parent, worrying if I’d got things right and being the only one to have big life conversations with my son. I drank my chocolate, just wishing the other parents would keep their small-minded, prejudiced thoughts to themselves. I’d seen it first hand as a primary school teacher – kids picked on for being different, and I didn’t want Jacob to conform just because of a few small-minded people.
    ‘What do you remember about Daddy?’ I asked Jacob.
    He looked down, like he didn’t want to talk about his dad because it would upset me.
    ‘It’s okay to talk about people who’ve died,’ I explained. ‘It’s a way of keeping them with us... I know I get a bit upset sometimes when we talk about him, but that’s okay too.’
    He nodded, uncertainly. The fire was going down, so I stoked it up, added more fuel and pulled myself together.
    I had a tough few weeks ahead leading up to Christmas and I had to stay strong. Until now I’d always had Tamsin to pull me through. We always stayed at Tamsin’s on Christmas Eve and she spoiled Jacob something rotten with gifts, but as he had no grandparents and no dad I appreciated her giving him such a good Christmas. I had no enthusiasm for the festive season and just couldn’t wait for it to be over – along with the memories of that knock on the door when the police had arrived.
    ‘I know, let’s rehearse your lines,’ I said to Jacob, finishing my chocolate and collecting the cups and toast plates.
    Jacob had two lines for his part as the donkey in the school Nativity play and he’d been delighted to be chosen. So as the snow came down outside, we rehearsed. I smiled and mouthed the lines as he said them, then nodded