The Good Part(72)

There’s a message from the Bamph CEO’s PA asking if I would be willing to move my ‘F meeting’ from the executive suite. It appears I’ve bumped the quarterly shareholder meeting on the booking portal. Oops, I thought I was only putting that in my own diary. Hopefully no one will be able to crack my cunning fake meeting code.

I also have a message from Michael:



Hope all okay at home. I think best for team morale if we keep your brain fog between us for now. Don’t want the team losing confidence in your abilities before the big pitch. Best not put any more fake meetings on the Bamph intranet either . . .

M

P.S. Jane says killer whales go through the menopause too, so you’re in excellent company.



Eventually, I drag Felix away. We need to get our train. It might not have been great parenting to reward Felix’s running away with such an adventure-filled day, but seeing him so animated makes me feel it might have been time well spent.

‘You can have this,’ Mr Finkley says, handing the small brass compass to Felix as we leave. ‘I don’t have many places to navigate to any more. Better it be in the hands of a real explorer.’

‘Oh wow, thank you so much,’ Felix says, clasping it as though he’s just been gifted the crown jewels.

On the train home, Felix uses the compass to give me constant updates on our direction of travel, ‘Southwest. West. South southwest.’ It gets annoying quickly, so I try to distract him by reading back our incident report in a funny, high-pitched, voice. Felix finds it hilarious, then insists I write, ‘Mummy reads the incident report in a funny voice’, in the report, which makes him cry with laughter. Watching him, I feel a warm tug of unfiltered affection for this funny little boy.

A compact vending machine on wheels trundles along the carriage towards us, and I ask Felix if he wants anything. He sits up in his seat and gives me a strange look.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘Mummy never lets us have snacks from the machine.’ He raises an eyebrow, as though challenging me to retract the offer.

‘Well, Mummy does now,’ I say, pulling a goofy face. I buy two chocolate biscuits from the machine, before it moves away along the carriage.

Felix says in a quiet voice, ‘Thank you –’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘– for letting me look.’

‘I had fun,’ I say, then after a pause, ‘but you do promise never to run off looking for portals again? I understand your need for this to be fixable, I feel it too, Felix, believe me, but if it isn’t . . . well, there are worse things that happen to people. I’m still here, aren’t I? I am still your mummy.’

He nods solemnly, and as I say it, for the first time, I feel like it could be true.



As the train rattles on through Woking, Felix finishes the last of his biscuit, then says, ‘You know you’re trying to think of a new kids’ show. Why don’t you pitch one of your games?’

‘My games?’

‘Like we played the other night all over the house, that was brilliant. You don’t even need loads of stuff. Like, for “the floor is lava” you don’t need actual lava.’

‘Remind me how that game works again?’

‘Someone shouts, “The floor is lava” and you have to get off the floor or you’re dead.’

‘What, like this?’ I ask, jumping up onto the train seat and yelling, ‘The floor is lava!’

Felix looks up at me in horror or awe, I’m not sure which, then says, ‘Mummy, we’re on a train.’

‘Okay, sorry, the train floor is lava!’ I cry, leaping across the aisle to one of the empty seats opposite, giggling as I almost lose my footing because of the motion of the train. Felix covers his face with his hands, then peers out at me through a gap between his fingers. His expression is priceless, but then a gruff voice behind me says, ‘Ma’am. You’ll need to get down from there.’





Chapter 27


‘Don’t tell your dad I got a fine,’ I remind Felix as I pull the car into the driveway.

‘Can I tell Molly at school?’ Felix asks, his eyes still gleaming with the adrenaline rush of seeing his mother get a fine for antisocial behaviour. ‘She’ll think it’s so cool.’

‘No, you can’t tell anyone. What happens on an expedition stays on the expedition.’

Through the kitchen window I can see Sam dancing with Amy in his arms. His lips are moving – he’s singing to her.

We sit in the car for a few minutes, neither of us making a move to get out. Perhaps Felix remembers he’s in trouble, while I’m reluctant for the magic of this afternoon to end, eager to hold onto this new feeling of camaraderie with Felix. Finally, Sam notices us, waves, and now our expedition really is at an end.

In the hall, Sam bends down to wrap Felix in his huge arms, saying muffled words into his shoulder, ‘Don’t you ever do that to us again. You had me so worried.’

‘I’m sorry, Dad.’

‘We’ll talk about it later. Did you do what you needed to do?’ Sam asks, and Felix nods. Then Sam holds out his hand and Felix passes him his iPad.

‘I’ll need it for school.’

‘Then, you can have it back at school time,’ says Sam.