Talk to me, Toffee
Dont be frightened, Toffee! Its alright! Theyll shout for a little longer and then calm down Probably
Little Emily hugged her faithful friend closer and squeezed her eyes shut. She mustnt be afraid. She was already a big girl, after all. Granny Margaret had said so. Now she was five, so that made her grown up. Thats how everyone saw her now. She didnt even cry at injections anymoretoo embarrassing! Only with Toffee could she be little again. He’d seen all sides of her. Emilys mum gave her Toffee on the day she was bornhe was a scruffy, slightly lopsided teddy bear, and he was her greatest friend. She could tell him anything, and unlike Annabelle, her best friend from nursery, Toffee would never sneak off and tell tales to Miss Thompson. He’d just listen with those big eyes and keep it all secret. And when things were scary, like now, hed comfort her too. He was soft and safe. Her parents were supposed to be safe as well, but when they started yelling at each other, they turned prickly, like the cursed thorns in Sleeping Beauty. Emily couldnt quite put it into words, but it felt like those thorns sprang up everywhere in their house, making it impossible for anyone to get close. Why did Mummy and Daddy argue? Grown-ups werent supposed to get upset about silly things. Granny said they should talk it over, find common groundEmily had already forgotten the expression, but she remembered it involved talking. Maybe their arguments werent as simple as childrens squabbles. Maybe grown-up rows were much bigger, much scarier. Even after the worst arguments with Annabelle, she was so fed up she didnt even want an ice lollyjust wanted to cry. If grown-up hurts were even worse than that, they must be terrifying.
Emily opened her eyes and listened. Silence. That meant Mummy had gone to cry in the bathroom, Daddy was sitting in a huff in the kitchen, and it was time to pay a visit. She wriggled from behind the bed where shed been hiding, sighing as she did so. Her room was beautiful. Mum had spent ages picking out wallpaper and the furniture, always asking Emily what she wanted. A white bed with a pink duvet, a lovely wardrobe for all her dresses. Shelves overflowing with so many toys that Emily sometimes forgot what she even owned. She didn’t want to leave this roomit was her haven, calm now as the shouting stopped. But Toffee stared at her and Emily sniffed:
I know, I know! Im going! She tucked her bear on her pillow and headed out.
Mum firstit was always harder with her. The bathroom door was closed, as usual. Emily knocked gently.
Mum?
Yes?
May I come in?
The door opened, and there was her mother, perched on the edge of the tub.
Whats the matter? Do you need the loo?
No. I want to talk to you. Emily puffed out her chest, stepped inside, dreading what would happen next. Mum would cry more, hug her tight, and promise that everything would be alright. And Emily would cry toonot because she felt sorry for Mum, but because she knew it wouldnt be alright. It never was. Nice things, as Annabelle said, only lasted for a bit. And Annabelle was right. Happy days never stuck around for long.
Emily wiped her eyes and asked quietly:
Mum, why?
Why what, darling?
Why do you shout at each other all the time? If you dont love each other anymore, maybe you should stay apart for a bit? Granny Margaret says thats what we should do when Annabelle and I fall out. If you arent together, you cant argue.
Her mother, Olivia, froze, staring at her daughter. Until that moment, Emily had never spoken about what happened in the house. Olivia had imagined their rows went over Emilys headshe was still just a child, what could she understand?
Emily why are you saying this? I love Daddy
Youre fibbing, Mum.
Emily!
If you really loved him, you wouldnt shout so. You dont shout at me, do you?
Olivia was at a loss for words. How could she explain that grown-up relationships were complicated? That shouting didnt always mean hate or did it? Such a simple questionwhy?
You need to sit and think about your behaviour. Thats what! said Emily decisively, wiping salty tears off her mothers cheeks.
Is that what Granny Margaret says? Olivia attempted a watery smile.
Yes! And shes right. Annabelle and I made up, and now we only argue when she tells tales on me.
Youre so grown up Olivia hugged her daughter.
No, Mum, Im still little. If I were big Emily backed away, whispering, I wouldnt be this scared.
What are you scared of? Olivia frowned.
What if you and Dad shout so much you end up leaving?
Leaving where, sweetheart?
To somewhere quiet. You cant stay forever where you feel unhappy, can you? Youre not happy, are you, Mum?
Not always Wait! Do you think wed leave you? Is that what you fear?
Yeah Emily finally burst out crying. And then itd just be Toffee. And if I lost him again, like in that taxi? Id be truly all alone. I asked Granny Margaret if I could live with her, but she says shes too old to be a mum now!
Oh, Emily. My Emilystop! Id never leave you! How could I? Youre my child!
But when you and Daddy shout, do you even remember me?
Of course we do Olivia broke off. Her daughter was right. In the middle of their rows she forgot about everythingincluding Emily. Hurt blinded and consumed her. Where did those cruel words come from? How had she become this way?
She remembered meeting Simon in her second year at university. Olivia had been dashing down a corridor, running late for an exam, and knocked over an awkward, gangly boy. His glasses went flying, and all Olivia could manage was a rushed Sorry! as she dashed inside. She passed with flying colours and skipped from campus, thrilled for summer.
Hi there, express train! Still running late? hed joked, squinting up at her.
He called her my little train ever since. Especially when she was sulky.
You puff and huff so funnilyI cant even be cross with you!
When she was giving birth, all the midwives giggled as Simon encouraged her:
Dont puff, Little Train, just push!
When did he stop calling her that? When had the arguments started? When did everything go wrong?
Mum?
Yes, darling?
Are you all that sad together? Are you angry with each other?
Olivia played with her daughter’s curls, golden rings just like Simons. When she was pregnant, shed prayed their child would have his hair.
Just not my own! Why would any girl want three pathetic feathers for hair?
Dont be silly! Yours is lovely!
Thats thanks to a good hairdresser and a decent cut. If she has your hair and my eyes The boys wont stand a chance!
And Emily got bothsunny curls and sparkling blue eyes. Shes already beautifuland Olivia caught herself smiling. Her mum always said: find a good father for your children. And Simon was just that. Emily was the centre of his world. Theres the truthEmily, not her. Olivia squirmed with embarrassment at her own jealousy. Was that fair? Probably not. But it still stung. She remembered how Simon, coming home, would breeze past her with a quick kiss: Wheres my princess? There she is! Emily, I brought you your favourite chocolate! Then hed bundle up on the sofa with their daughter, headphones on, immersed in films while Olivia tidied and settled Emily for bed.
How hed join in with Emilys silly songs in the car, paying no attention to what Olivia tried to say. Later, hed ask again, and shed have to repeat herself.
How hed shout at her if Emily was ill.
That first time he yelled at her was two years ago. Emily had a raging fever, and Olivia sat up all night, desperately trying to bring it down. The doctor said not to worry, but she was frantic with fear. Eventually, she just broke down in tears, helpless for her child. Thats when Simon shouted:
Why cry? Will that help her? Pull yourself together! What kind of mum are you?
She did stop cryingnot because she was calm, but because something within her snapped, and she felt cold, hollow. She was a bad mother The world drained of colour. She pressed her lips to Emilys head, barely realising her child was cooler. Of course, Emily got better, and those days faded, like a bad dream. But the awful feeling never left Olivia. The resentment stayed.
Emily was watching her mum, waiting for a reply. But Olivia only sat, lost in thought, so Emily slipped away to find her father.
Dont cry anymore, alright? she said at the door.
Olivia said nothing, rewinding their life together in her mind. Was there really so much bad? Was there any good left?
Yes, of course there was.
Before the weddinghow Simon used to look at her, those sweet eyes behind the glasses. Youre so beautifulI dont understand Why me? Why did you choose me?
Youre not so bad yourself! shed tease, and his eyes would light up.
If only she still knew what to say to him now, as easily as she did then.
Emily learning to walk, her first word, their first holiday together. That big business win when Olivia returned to work; Simon was so delighted hed tried baking a cakedry, sickly sweet, they never finished it.
Ill make you another, dont cry! Come on, we could box it up and keep it forever, like a royal wedding cake!
Buying their first flat, sitting on the floor because they couldnt afford furniture, toasting with cheap wine while Emily snored on an inflatable mattress.
Well have to have another girl at this rate, Simon said, hugging Olivia.
Another?
Youre not stopping at one, are you?
I dunno
Well, until we buy a house and theres more room, a second itll have to be.
They never did have a second. Doctors said nothing was wrong, but the years rolled by, little problems piling up. Silly grievances, hurtful words filling every inch of the flat, growing sharper until there was no space for anything else. Olivia was surprised to realise it wasnt leaden balls weighing her down, as Emily thought, but thornslong, slicing, straight to the heart.
Olivia splashed her face with cold water. Enoughgood and bad could be added up forever. Emily was right; resentment spoiled everything. Either they would find peace or they should part. She pictured life without Simonno one coming home, no daddy hugs for Emily She shivered.
Emily tiptoed to the kitchen, nudged the door. Daddy sat by the window.
Dad?
Emmy! Shouldnt you be in bed?
Its early! Emily clambered onto his lap. You were both shouting
Sorry.
Why?
For shouting?
Yes.
I dont know, it just happened.
Are you cross with Mummy? Emily scanned her dads face. She should have spoken long ago instead of just hugging Toffee and waiting. At nursery, Miss Thompson always had them tell her what was wrong, then ask, is it really worth not being friends anymore?
Did Mummy say she was upset with me? Simon tucked his nose into Emilys curls, savouring her smell.
No. I just know.
How?
When you love Mummy, you hug her. She smiles. When youre upset, you both shout. Right?
Simon gently set his daughter down in front of him, looking at her closely.
Youre getting so grown up.
Mum says the same.
What else did she say?
She loves you. And me.
Emily watched her fathers face change, the anger softening. Satisfied, she climbed off his lap.
Im off to Toffee. He gets scared on his own.
Go on then. Simon watched her go, troubled. When did the shouting start? How did things get so far that even Emily brought it up? It seemed to happen gradually. At first, Emilys birth brought them together, but then Olivia grew distant. He could see whya baby needed attention, but all the warmth he fell for just faded. Even everyday chat became laced with frustration, then with open annoyance. He often felt guilty, like he could never get things right. No more welcoming smiles at the doorjust pursed lips and a quick nod. So, he escaped to Emilys room, keeping Olivia at arms length. It wasnt fair, but he couldn’t help it. The more Olivia withdrew or snapped, the more he braced himself and shut down, desperate for some spark of their old life. He remembered when he’d last loudly cursed at OliviaEmily had been ill, Olivia at her wits end, and hed only made it worse. Hed wanted to comfort her, but the wall had already grown too high between them.
He remembered the cruelest thing hed ever said, shouted during a furious row:
The only thing keeping us together is Emily. Without her
He saw Olivia freeze, those words washing all the hope from her eyes. After that, she withdrew for goodtheir relationship became just polite phrases about Emily, nothing more. Hed tried to break through, even if it meant another row, but she just shut down. He searched for her old spark, but maybe it had gone, or maybe he just couldnt see it anymore.
He sighed. The flat was quiet. No running waterOlivia must be settling Emily for the night. Watching the block of flats outside, windows flicking on and off, he thought: behind every light, theres another life. Happy or sad, but always different. His would change entirely if Olivia left and took Emily with her. The thought of ita hollow, echoing cave of a lifemade him shudder. All his meaning was right here, in his green-eyed girls.
Suddenly, Simon remembered a chat with his own mum when he was about fifteen, grilling her for advice about girls.
Always take responsibility, love. Women notice that.
How do you mean?
If somethings gone wrong, even if shes partly to blame, think about your role in it. How did you let things get to this point? True, sometimes its not your fault, but most of the time, especially in marriage, you both carry some blamebut the man carries more.
Why’s that?
Because. Women usually arent the leaders. Unless shes exceptionally strong. Usually, shell follow your leadgive her warmth and understanding, and youll both be happy. Shes not made of steel, you know.
How so?
Some men think: shes not complaining, she manages, so everythings fine. But that’s not it. Its your job to help, to support. Youll see when you have a family and more work than two or three people could do. If you leave it all to her Thats a recipe for trouble. So, remember: making time for your wifeat least an hour a dayis your path to happiness. And never forget how you treated her before the wedding. If you keep that up, shell always see you as her treasure.
Hows that?
Before the wedding, theres no one in the world more precious to you. Whether its chemistry or something else, youll feel like shes the best thing that ever happened to you, handling her like the rarest, most fragile vase on earth. After marriage, you might forget that, and shell feel ordinary. But shell remember. Think about that, son.
Simon rubbed his face, smiling briefly. Thank you, Mum
He stood a moment longer, then wandered to the fridge.
Emily couldnt sleep for ages. She lay in bed, one arm around Toffee, the other curled around her mum, who looked so tired, her face all sad creases. Emily stroked the frown between her mums eyebrowsit hadnt always been there. Olivia sighed in her sleep and the crease softened. Emily snuggled close and closed her eyes tight. Maybe tomorrow would be a good day. Shed heard people say that often, but it hardly ever turned out true. Emily squeezed her eyes shut and wished as hard as she could.
Olivia never heard the alarm go offthe clock was in the bedroom. She woke with a jump, squinting at the little cat-shaped clock on Emilys wall and groaned. Theyd be late for nursery. And shed be late for work too. Luckily, nothing urgent was due first thing. From the kitchen, she heard a spoon tapping a mug, and raised her brows in surprise. Simon hadnt left yet? Odd. Carefully, Olivia slipped from the bed, not waking Emily, and tiptoed to the bathroom. Washing her face, she listenedmaybe hed be gone before she finished, avoiding a talk, and shed have the day to brace herself. But when she finally entered the kitchen, Simon was still there, making coffee.
Morning, he called, looking as if he hadn’t slept at alleyes bloodshot, dark circles heavy below.
Olivia opened her mouth to speak but fell silent, staring at the table. There, in all its homemade glory, stood a lopsided cake with clumsy buttercream roses. Had Simon made that? He must have stayed up the whole night. And somehow, he’d found the long-lost piping nozzles too.
She looked at him, and he stepped up.
Im sorry. Really, Olivia, I am. Ive been a lousy husband. It was all my fault. I didnt listen, I didnt notice, and I blamed you whenever I was at fault. You and Emily are the very best things in my life. If it werent for you, thered be no Emily. I know I cant undo the past, but… will you at least think about it?
Olivia stared at her husband, unsure what to say. Then she stepped closer and covered his mouth with her palm.
Were as bad as each other. Im sorry too. And youre right. I do need to think. About a lot of things.
How long do you need?
About seven months more, Id say.
Simons eyes widened. He stared blankly a moment, then it clicked.
What are you looking at me like that for? Yes, youve understood perfectly.
Simon was still fumbling for words when the kitchen door burst open and Emily appeared, clutching Toffee, rubbing her eyes.
Have you made up?
Simon and Olivia exchanged glances.
Wow! Why is there cake? Can we have it for breakfast?
Today, anything goes! Simon hugged Olivia, then whispered, Give me another try. I do love you.
And youll give me one? Olivia whispered back, then turned to her daughter. But no cake for girls who havent washed their faces.
Ill go now! Emily plonked Toffee on a chair. Two pieces, please. One for me, one for Toffee.
Teddy bears dont eat cake.
Thats why hes got me. Ill have to help.
A few years from now, Olivia will walk through the park, pushing a pram toward the school to collect her elder daughter. Little Charlie will grizzle at the wrong time, and as Olivia bends to check, Simons arms will wrap around her gently.
Let me, hell say, picking up their son, nodding at her. Well wait for you here.
Olivia will smile and hurry up the pathtomorrow Emilys on half-term. The tickets are booked, bags packed, and Charlie will see the sea for the first time. Shell think back over the last three yearstheir bumpy road, their months apart at her parents, their reconciliation, thanks in large part to Simons mum, Margaret. The birth of Charlie. His first steps, his first teeth, his first word
Olivia will chuckle, remembering his first word wasnt Mummy but DaddySimon preening with pride, winking: Good lad, respect!
Emily, on her first day at school, looking so small and worried she almost scared her parents with her paleness, but she managed, marching in bravely with her class and never looking back.
Mum!
Em! Olivia would scoop her daughter up. How did it go?
Best in class! Miss James said only Annabelle and I got everything right.
Well done! Olivia would hug her tightly.
Where are Dad and Charlie?
Strolling in the park, waiting for us.
Good. And Toffee?
Where would we be without Toffee? Olivia laughed. Hes in the pram.
Emily would sigh happily. Shed given her favourite bear to her little brotherbecause, as Gran always said, the best things must be shared with the people you love most. But she still missed him, even if she tried not to show it.
Watching her parents walking ahead, passing Charlie between them, chatting animatedly, Emily would lean towards the pram and whisper:
What do you think, Toffee? Is everything alright now?
Toffee looked at her with his round, stitched eyes and said nothing at all. But somehow, Emily felt she already knew the answer.
