Salt Sisters

roses in the jug, but they were too tall, and leaned awkwardly. I looked around for somewhere to display it, and then had a better idea.
‘Come on, everyone. I know just the place for these.’
Amy’s grave was still a brown mound of freshly dug soil, with grass seeds scattered on top that would take months to root. The air smelled of new earth, and a light drizzling of rain dusted us in droplets of water.
We gathered around the grave, holding on to one another. It hurt to be here, but it was a necessary pain. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I wanted to be closer to Amy, and I wanted the kids to form a connection with this place. Or was it too much? Maybe we should have let them heal in their own time and grieve in their own space.
I pushed my doubts aside. This felt like the right thing to do, and I had to go with my instincts. We scattered the roses onto the hill where Amy was sleeping, red petals tumbling in the wind across the graveyard.
It was my turn to make dinner for the family. I hadn’t cooked in years, and I couldn’t remember having prepared anything more complicated than a salad in Hong Kong. It was too easy there to go out to eat, or have food delivered, and I had been spoiled for choice with so many places on my doorstep. Seahouses – that was a different story.
I decided it was best to start simple, so I boiled a bag of dry pasta that I found at the back of the cupboard. When it was cooked, I stirred in tins of tuna and sweetcorn with some mayonnaise. I surveyed and sampled my efforts – not too bad for a first attempt.
‘That smells great,’ said Mike with sincerity.
The kids were less excited.
‘I don’t think Mummy ever made this,’ said Betsy. ‘Except maybe for barbecue days. It’s very nice though. It’s like eating party food for tea!’
Hannah smiled as her sister tripped over the attempt at a compliment.
Amy had been a good cook. She’d started when Mum left, and as we’d found our way into our new routine, cooking had become her thing. As the family ate, I vowed to look online that night for some simple recipes and make a proper go of it tomorrow, with fresh ingredients and everything.
After dinner I was left to clear up – that was when I really noticed Rachel’s absence. Perhaps she was trying to give us some space to find our feet.
Mike had been quiet for most of the meal, and left the table as soon as he finished eating. He hadn’t said anything else about contesting Amy’s will, and I hoped he had changed his mind. The idea just didn’t feel right, and I couldn’t see how we could do it without putting more strain on the children. I loaded the dishwasher and went upstairs to find him.
As I came up the stairs to his office, I heard him on the phone.
‘Listen, it’s under control – you’ll get your money back. I’m working on it. I’m going to go and see him, and I’ll tell him myself.’
Mike was speaking quietly, but I could hear the tension in his voice.
I stood statue-still at the top of the stairs, half of me wanting to stay and the other half wanting to run. Who was he on the phone to? Was this about his business, or something else? And was this why he was so anxious to get the insurance money? One thing I knew for certain – Mike would not want me listening in on this.
I crept slowly, carefully, silently down the stairs and slipped back to the living room where the children were watching TV. I squeezed in next to Betsy, who was sucking her thumb again, and she curled into me. I just hoped she wouldn’t hear how hard my heart was pounding.
Mike came in some moments later. He was calm and cool, like nothing had happened.
‘Listen, kids – and Izzy – I have to go away for a few days.’
‘No! You can’t!’ Lucas wailed.
‘Sorry mate, but we have bills to pay and it’s my job that pays them. That’s why Auntie Izzy is here, to look after you lot so that I can carry on working.’
What the actual…? I raised a quizzical eyebrow at Mike, but he missed it.
Hannah was outraged. ‘Dad, you promised you wouldn’t leave us!’
‘I’ll be back in five days.’
‘But that’s practically a whole week!’
He raised his hands, palms towards her. ‘It’s only Amsterdam and I’ll be home by the weekend.’ Mike sighed. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know the timing’s not great, but they didn’t give me any choice.’
That was weird – because just minutes ago, I’d heard Mike insisting on going. And he worked for himself. Who was this ‘they’ that he was talking about?
I followed him into the kitchen. ‘Couldn’t you have let me know first? Shouldn’t we discuss these things?’
‘Sorry, it’s just that – well, that is why you’re here, isn’t it? To help look after the kids?’
‘Still… don’t you think you should ask me first?’ I tried to keep the anger from the edges of my voice.
‘Right, sorry…’ Mike’s lip started to tremble.
I found myself relenting a little. Perhaps I shouldn’t have snapped at him. ‘I mean, I’m happy to help and everything – but just let me know, OK? Let’s work together on this.’
His eyes filled. ‘It’s just… I miss her so much.’
I looked down, shuffling my weight from foot to foot. Looking anywhere except at Mike.
‘Clearly, I’m not the parenting expert here, but don’t you think the kids need you right now?’
He shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t go if I could avoid it. But this is work, it’s my business – I can’t take time off.’
I thought back to the days after Dad died, when Mum started to slip away from us too.
Mike knew what I was thinking. ‘Look, if I