Читать книгу Sarah Lean - 3 Book Collection - Sarah Lean, Sarah Lean - Страница 8

DAD’S BIRTHDAY, AND I GOT UP BEFORE ANYONE.

He just wanted a quiet day. No presents, no cake, no nothing. It just wouldn’t be right, he said. People forget birthdays aren’t just about them.

Dad’s birthday is also the same day my mum died last year. I think it’s called a tragedy or a catastrophe or some other big word which means more than just ‘bad luck’ when two things like that happen on the same day.

I sat outside Dad’s bedroom door with his birthday cards, waiting. Through the gap in the doorway I could just make out the dark hump under the covers and his dark head making a deep dent in his pillow. He sighed, so I knew he was awake.

There were six birthday cards for Dad. One from me, one from my older brother Luke (still in bed or on his computer – the door was shut) and four that had come in the post. I nudged Dad’s bedroom door open a bit wider and flung my card in. I saw Dad patting round the bed, feeling for the blue envelope that landed by his back, and heard it crunch as he opened it. It was a picture of a grey bear with a blue nose. It was speaking on the telephone and on the front it said A Message From Me To You.

Dad said, “Thanks, that’s nice.”

And I said, “Are you thinking about Mum?”

Silence.

And then he said, “Get me a cup of coffee, will you?”

It didn’t feel like a birthday at all, not even with the cards on top of the telly. Dad had the volume turned low while we sat around waiting for the rest of our family to arrive and come with us to visit Mum’s grave for her anniversary.