Without the You Must
Long ago, I remember coming home to find three plates with crusted spaghetti on the kitchen table, a toppled-over pot of yoghurt, and an open exercise book with squared paper. Charlies rucksack lay abandoned in the middle of the hallway, while Alice was slumped on the sofa, her face glued to her phone.
I set my briefcase on the floor and kicked off my shoes. I was about to mention the dishes, but a wave of weariness caught me by the throat, and I simply walked to the table, grabbed a plate, and took it to the sink.
Ill do those in a minute, Dad, Alice said, her eyes never leaving her phone.
All right.
I turned on the tap, letting the water run over the plate. The spaghetti loosened and drifted down the drain. I turned off the tap, standing there, staring at the wet crockery.
Al, wheres Charlie?
In his room. Doing his maths.
And you?
Already finished everything, she replied.
I wiped my hands on the towel, then wandered into Charlies room. He was sprawled on the rug, propping his head on one fist, his exercise book half-finished.
Hello, I said.
Hi.
Hows it going?
Okay.
Your homework?
Still working on it.
I perched on the edge of the bed. Charlie glanced at me, then stared back at his book.
Dad, whats up?
I dont know, I answered. I suppose Im just tired.
And it was true. That morning, Mother had rung, asking me to come round and help with her wardrobe; then a meeting at work dragged on past six, and my train journey had me pressed against the carriage doors. Now, sitting in Charlies room, I realised I didnt want to talk about dishes, or homework, or tidying up. I didnt want to be another cog that turned on arriving home.
Listen, lets all meet in the kitchentogether, I suggested.
What for?
To talk.
Charlie grimaced. Is this about my low mark in English again?
No, nothing of the sort. I just want to talk.
Dad, I havent finished my homework.
You can finish it later. Five minutes.
I left and called Alice. She looked up, sighing in annoyance.
Seriously?
Seriously.
With a grumble, she tossed her phone onto the sofa and followed me. Charlie shuffled slowly out of his room, lingering at the kitchen door like he wasnt sure he wanted to enter.
I sat down, moving the exercise book aside. Alice sat across from me while Charlie perched on the very edge of a chair.
So, whats happened? Alice asked.
Nothings happened.
So then why?
I looked from her to Charlie. His eyes were worried, braced for the worst.
I just want to talk, I said. Honestly. Not about you must do your homework or you must wash upnone of that.
So, were off the hook for the washing up? Charlie ventured.
Well do it later. Im talking about something else.
Alice crossed her arms, eyeing me.
Youre acting odd today, Dad.
Odd, yes, I admitted. Maybe because Im tired of pretending everythings just fine.
They fell silent. My thoughts were a blank.
Im not sure how to say this, I began. But it seems were all just putting on a show. I come home, you pretend everythings in order, I pretend I believe you. We talk about school and food, but really, we dont say anything that matters.
Dad, now youre making it all heavy, Alice said quietly. Why?
I dont know. Perhaps its because Im struggling alone and Im scared you are too, but I dont even know what youre finding hard.
Charlies brow knitted.
Im managing.
Are you? I asked, looking at him. Then why have you been up past midnight the last two weeks?
He fell silent, eyes cast to the table.
I can hear you tossing and turning, I told him. And in the morning, you look like you havent slept a wink.
I just dont want to sleep.
Charlie.
Well, what? What else do you want me to say?
Say how it really is.
He shrugged, turning away.
Everythings fine at school. I do my lessons. What more?
Its not the lessons Im worried about.
Alice chipped in, Dad, why are you grilling him?
Im not grilling. I just want to understand.
He doesnt want to talk. Thats his right.
I looked at her.
All right. You then. How are you?
She gave a wry smile.
Me? Im brilliant. Studying, chatting with my mates, everything as it should be.
Alice.
She fell silent, looking to the side.
What?
You havent left the house much this past month. Twice your friends invited you out and you said no.
So what? I didnt feel like it.
And whys that?
Her lips tightened.
Because Im fed up with them, their endless talk about boys and other rubbish. All right?
All right, I agreed. Justit feels like youre sad.
She flicked her head, as if shaking something off.
Im not sad.
Okay.
We fell quiet. Only the fridge hummed softly behind me.
Listen, I said at last, Im not here to parent you right now, nor do I want you fobbing me off with false reassurances. Honestly: Im afraid. Every day. Im afraid there wont be enough money, that Granny will fall ill and say nothing, that Ill be made redundant at work. Im afraid youre going through things and I dont notice because Im too wrapped up in my own struggles. And Im tired of pretending I have it all together.
Alice blinked, looking at me thoughtfully.
But youre the adult, she murmured. Youre supposed to cope.
I know. But I dont always manage.
Charlie looked up.
What if you dont cope?
I dont know, I answered truthfully. Perhaps Ill have to ask for help.
From who?
You two, for a start.
Charlie frowned.
But were just kids.
You are. But youre a part of this family as well. Sometimes I just need you to tell me the truth. Not Im fine, but really how you feel.
Alice ran her hand along the table, gathering imaginary crumbs.
And why should you know?
So Im not alone.
She lifted her eyes to meet mine, and for a moment, I saw a glimmer of understanding there.
Im scared to go to school, Charlie said suddenly. Theres a lad therethey keep saying Im stupid. He says it every day. Everyone laughs.
Something tightened inside me.
Whats his name?
Im not telling. Youll get involved and make it worse.
I promise I wont get involved.
Charlie looked at me doubtfully.
Really?
Really. But youre not alone in this.
Charlie nodded, dropping his gaze.
Im not alone. Theres Harryhes decent. We sit together.
Thats good.
Alice heaved a sigh.
I dont want to go to college, she whispered. Everyone keeps asking where Im headed, and I havent a clue. I honestly dont know. Feels like I wont go anywhere, because Im not good at anything.
Alice, youre fourteen.
So? Everyone else has made up their minds. I havent.
Not everyone.
Everyone I know.
I paused.
When I was your age, I wanted to be a geologist. Then I changed my mind. I changed my mind again. And now, I work nowhere near what I once thought.
Anddo you mind?
Its up and down. Sometimes its fine, sometimes its tough. But thats lifeit doesnt have to be all sorted out in advance.
She nodded, but doubt lingered.
Everyone says you must have it sorted.
They do, I agreed. But thats their opinion, not yours.
She looked at me, almost smiling.
Youre different today.
Tired of getting everything right.
Charlie snorted.
Can I ask something?
Of course.
Are you really scared?
I am.
So what do you do when youre scared?
I thought for a moment.
I get up in the morning and do something. Even if Im not sure its right. I just keep going.
Charlie nodded.
I see.
For a while, we sat, saying nothing. I studied my children, knowing Id solved nothing, given no answers, eased none of their worries. Yet something shifted: Id shown them they could see me not as a role, but as a personand theyd met me there.
All right, Alice said, getting up. Guess Id better do those dishes.
Ill help, said Charlie.
Me too, I added.
We all rose; Alice ran the tap, Charlie fetched the sponge, and I reached for the tea towel. We worked quietly, but this silence was different. Not empty, but full.
When the last plate was on the rack, Alice dried her hands and looked at me.
Dad, can we do this again? Sometime?
Anytime you want, I replied.
She nodded and retreated to her room. Charlie lingered.
Thanks for not interfering with that lad.
But if it does get too much, youll let me know?
I will.
Come on then, lets get your maths finished.
We went to his room, sat together on the carpet. I took the exercise book and studied the sums. Charlie edged closer, and together we worked them outslowly, almost as usual. But now I knew, beside these problems, sat a boy who was afraid. And I could be there for himnot only to check his answers, but as someone who was afraid too and still rose in the morning.
Perhaps it wasnt everything. But it was a start.
