Page 96 of Postscript

Your favourit book is the hungry caterpillar and you chew the cornurs.

The map song from Dora the Ixplorir makes you laugh more than anything.

You love popping bubbles.

Your favourit teddy is Bop Bop the bunny.

Sneezeing makes you laugh.

Paper being ript makes you cry.

You love dogs.

You point at clouds.

You get hickups when you drink too fast.

You love the song ABC by The Jackson 5.

Wunce you put a snail in your mouth and sucked it out of its shell. Yuk. You don’t like snails.

You love sitting on my knee and don’t like to be put down. I think you are skared of being left alone. You are never alone. You will never be alone.

You can’t see the wind but you hold your hands out to catch it. It makes you confyoused.

You call me mama. That’s my favourite sound.

We dance every day. We sing incey wincy spider in the bath.

I wish I could see you grow up. I wish I could be beside you all the time forever. I love you more than anyone or anything in the hole world.

Be kind. Be smart. Be brave. Be happy. Be careful. Be strong. Don’t be afraid of being afraid. Sum times we are all afraid.

I love you forever.

I hope you remember me forever.

You are the best thing I have ever done.

I love you Jewel.

Mama

35

I lean my bicycle against the red-bricked wall and take the few steps to the front door, my legs heavy and my trainers feeling like lead. I’ve had a long cycle to clear my head but I can barely remember the route here. I press the doorbell.

Gabriel answers and looks at me in surprise.

‘Hi,’ I say, quietly, shyly.

‘Hi,’ he says. ‘Come in.’

I step inside and follow him down the narrow corridor to the internal main room, the familiar smells intensifying the butterflies in my stomach. He checks behind him to make sure I’m still there, in case I’ve changed my mind and left, or I’m not real. He has something jazzy playing on his record player, and there’s a large plasma screen on the wall.

‘You’re healed,’ he says, noting my boot-free foot.

‘You got a TV,’ I note. ‘A big one.’