The Marble Collector

32

I arrive home at five a.m. It’s been a long day and night. I yearn to fall into bed for at least a few hours before Aidan and the kids return.

I’m not sure about Amy’s moon theories, but there’s a comforting one that I heard while in the waiting room at Mickey’s yesterday. A new moon is a symbolic portal for new beginnings, believed by some to be the time to set up intentions for things you’d like to create, develop and cultivate. In other words, make new. Make new memories.

I think of myself as a little girl during the night of a full moon, wide awake, alert, head constantly thinking and planning, unable to rest, as though a beacon was sending messages. Was it the moon that made me do this? I don’t know. I should probably not cancel my therapy sessions though. The real conversation has just begun.

It’s bright as I walk up the path to my door, I see Mrs O’Grady my neighbour peeking out at me through lace curtains as I do the walk of shame. As I slide the key in the lock I don’t feel like a different woman, but the same woman, slightly changed. For the better.

I dream of kicking off my shoes, stripping off my clothes and falling into bed, having a few hours until the kids come home, but the door opens before I have the chance to turn the key, and it is then I notice Aidan’s car parked outside.

Aidan greets me, an exhausted handsome mess of a man whose expression makes me laugh instantly.

‘Mummy!’ the boys run to me, throwing themselves at me and grabbing a limb each. They squeeze me tight, as though they haven’t seen me for a week instead of less than twenty-four hours.

I hug them tightly while Aidan looks at me, exhausted, but concerned.

‘Where have you been?’ he asks, when they give up on their cuddles and instead drag me down the hall to show me something so incredibly exciting that they have found. They bring me to the containers of marbles all laid out on the floor, I’d left them there before rushing out the door to Mickey’s office yesterday morning.

‘I was teaching them how to play,’ Aidan says, guiding me away from them. ‘I hope that’s okay, they know to be careful with them. Although all I wanted to do is ram them down their throats – they’ve been a nightmare,’ he groans, wrapping his arms around me, and pretends to cry. ‘Alfie has not slept. At. All. Charlie pissed on the sleeping bags and Fergus wanted to eat a frog he caught for breakfast at four. We had to come home. Mind me,’ he whimpers.

I laugh, hugging him tight. ‘Aidan…’ I say, a warning tone for what’s about to come.

‘Yes,’ he replies, still in place, but his body stiffens.

‘You know the way you said not to let another man kiss me…?’

‘What?’ he pulls back, his face contorted.

‘Dad! Mum! Alfie swallowed a marble!’

We both run.

An hour later I kick off my shoes, peel off my clothes and fall into bed. I feel Aidan’s lips on my neck, and I’ve barely closed my eyes when the doorbell rings.

‘That’s probably your lover,’ he says grumpily, turning over and leaving me to answer it.

I groan, pull on my dressing gown and drag myself to the door. A blonde woman smiles nervously at me. I recognise her and try to place her. I recognise her from the hospital. I speak to her in the canteen, in the halls, in the garden, when we’re waiting for our loved ones. And then it all falls into place. Our loved one was the same person all along. I smile, feeling a major weight lift from my shoulders. I hadn’t been completely in the dark. I know her.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she says, apologetic. ‘I know it’s a Saturday morning and I didn’t want to disturb you and the children. I’ve been awake most of the night waiting for day to come, this was as long as I could wait. I just have to give you this.’

I turn my attention to the large bag she’s holding out with two hands. She hands it to me and I take it. It’s heavy.

‘It’s part of your dad’s marble collection,’ she says, and I stop breathing. ‘I took them from him before he had his stroke, before he sold the apartment, for safekeeping. He sent me out to sell them. I pretended to him that I did. The money I gave him was a loan from his brother Joe.’ She looks haunted by that admission. ‘I felt it was important to keep them safe, they are so precious to him.’ She looks at them as though she’s unsure of letting them go. ‘But you should have them. The collection should be complete, just in case he asks for them again.’

I look at the bag in total surprise that they’re here, in my arms.

‘I haven’t even told you who I am,’ she says shakily.

‘Are you Cat?’ I ask, and her face freezes in shock. ‘Please, come in,’ I say, grinning and opening the door wide.

We sit up at the breakfast counter as I carefully open the bag. I want to cry with happiness. An Akro Agate Company, Original Salesman’s Sample Case from 1930 and the World’s Best Moons original box of twenty-five marbles. I run my hands over them, unable to believe that they are here, that after a day of searching for them, they eventually found their own way home.