Lizzie had forgotten how long the walk was from Camden Town to the zoo and arrived out of breath, late and with a new blister on her heel. It had been drizzly and overcast when she left home but now the cloud was lifting and the early autumn sun was doing its best to warm the day. She spotted Joe and Sam waiting at the entrance wearing cagoules and rucksacks. She smiled and waved, hurrying across the road to greet them with a breathless, ‘Sorry! Have you been here long?’ Joe dismissed her concern with a smiling shake of his head but Sam was less forgiving.
‘Over half an hour,’ he said with a frown.
Joe raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s fine, Lizzie. Don’t worry,’ he said, giving Sam a warning nudge.
‘Okay. Sorry. Shall we go in?’ said Lizzie, feeling as if she’d fallen at the first hurdle and needed to keep them moving. The queue was long and slow and as they waited, Sam started to fidget.
‘How much longer?’ he moaned to his father.
‘It takes as long as it takes, Sammy,’ said Joe giving Lizzie a conspiratorial smile.
‘I need the loo,’ declared Sam.
Joe rolled his eyes. ‘Really? Right now?’ Sam shrugged.
‘You two go. I’ll wait in line,’ said Lizzie, already feeling out of her depth. Joe smiled gratefully and led Sam away. It took Lizzie another twenty minutes to buy the tickets. By the time she met them just inside the entrance, the sun was beating down and she felt sticky and hot.
‘Phew! I could do with an ice cream. How about I treat us all to one?’ she said trying to break the ice.
‘But we haven’t seen anything yet,’ said Sam.
‘Oh. No. Well maybe we could have one in a bit,’ said Lizzie. She noticed that Sam was addressing all his comments to his father and realised that this wasn’t going to be easy.
‘Well I’d love one,’ said Joe. ‘Thank you, Lizzie,’ he added, giving Sam a meaningful look.
‘Oh all right then,’ said Sam rolling his eyes and when his father raised his eyebrows at him, ‘Thank you.’
Lizzie returned with their ice creams and Joe opened the map. ‘So what do we want to see first?’
Sam shrugged. ‘Whatever.’
‘Well I vote for the penguins. Come on, follow me!’ Joe led them along the path past the birds of prey and some rather frightening-looking vultures. ‘Don’t like the look of those!’ he declared cheerfully. Sam ambled along in silence, licking his ice-cream. They reached the penguins just as a zookeeper was about to feed them. ‘Oh brilliant,’ said Joe, ‘perfect timing. Look Sam.’ They watched as the penguins lined up in comical anticipation, shuffling for best position to win a fishy treat. Lizzie looked at Sam’s face which was lost in wonder, listening to the keeper deliver her speech. As the first fish was thrown and one of the penguins darted forwards to catch it, she saw the ghost of a smile cross his face.
Joe moved to stand next to Lizzie. ‘He’s a good kid,’ he said.
‘I’m sure,’ she said.
‘It’s been really hard for him.’
‘Of course.’
‘It’s hard for all of us, but Sam’s just a child. He talks like a teenager, he’s got attitude like a teenager, but he’s still a child who’s lost his mother.’ Lizzie nodded. She hadn’t expected Joe to be this open and was starting to realise how little she really knew him. She had only met him a handful of times and if she was honest, had always dismissed him as Bea’s other half and no match for her perfect sister. ‘I’m glad you called, Lizzie. I think it will help, and Sam never stays grumpy for long. I was surprised to hear from you though.’
Lizzie was ready for this. ‘I decided it was time I got to know you properly.’ She didn’t want to mention the letters. She was still working them out in her own head.
‘Well I’m glad you did. You must miss her terribly.’
Lizzie looked at him. He was a washed-out version of the Joe she remembered from years ago. He had always been tall and thin but he looked as if he’d lost more weight than he needed to. He also seemed stooped as if grief was pushing him into the ground and his face was bristly with accidental stubble; the kind that sprouted due to lack of care.
She felt an unexpected wave of fondness. ‘I do. Probably just as much as you.’
He nodded. Lizzie could see how he was struggling to keep everything together. She surprised herself by reaching out a hand to touch him on the arm. ‘It’s okay. I understand.’
He smiled at her gratefully and it was as if those two words were the permission he needed to confide. ‘I still say good morning to her,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve got her photograph beside the bed and every morning I say, Morning you, still not here then.’ He gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I’ve never told anyone that.’ Lizzie smiled. ‘You know how she used to look at people with those cat-like eyes?’ Lizzie nodded. ‘It was like you were the only person in the room. She had such presence didn’t she? And energy. And enthusiasm for life. Sometimes I feel as if Sam and I are rattling around the house like the last two balls on a snooker table. She gave us direction, you know?’ Lizzie nodded again. She knew this only too well. ‘I mean I’ve always looked after Sam, played the house-husband and all that, but she always came back. I keep expecting her to come back. Like in the mornings when I wake up, I forget she’s gone. I half expect to hear the shower hissing like in the days when she went out to work. I can almost imagine her bursting back through the bedroom door, bustling round the room, getting ready. Sam would usually have got into bed next to me and nestled into Bea’s space. Bea would often stalk towards him, fingers ready for tickling and growl, Who’s been sleeping in my bed?’ He grinned at the memory and it seemed to Lizzie as if he were lost, almost forgetting where he was. She noticed him bite his lip in an attempt to suppress the emotion. ‘Hark at me going on. Sorry, Lizzie. It’s just good to talk to someone who knew her,’ he said.
‘Don’t give it a second thought. It is good to have someone to talk to,’ said Lizzie. As soon as the words were out of her mouth Lizzie realised the truth behind them. Bea had been the only person Lizzie had ever confided in. She was the only one who really understood and yet here was Joe, opening up to her as if they’d been friends all their lives. She admired the way he could reveal the details of his grief to her and she understood what he was saying. She felt it too. She wouldn’t necessarily reciprocate but she found it comforting to be talking about her sister and gave him an encouraging smile.
Sam appeared between them now, his face a picture of delight. ‘Did you see them, Dad? They were so cool, like funny little men. They’re called Humboldt penguins and they can swim at 20 miles an hour!’
Joe grinned at Lizzie and wrapped an arm round his son. ‘I did, Sammy. They’re hilarious!’
‘Come on,’ said Sam. ‘Let’s go and see the monkeys!’
By lunchtime, Lizzie was still in two minds as to whether meeting Sam and Joe had been the right thing to do. It had been easier with Joe than she expected and she liked him more than she thought she would. Sam was a tougher nut to crack. She’d had little experience of kids but she’d presumed them to be straightforward beings with simple needs. She’d presumed wrong. It wasn’t that she’d expected him to collapse into her arms with a cry of, ‘I love you, Auntie Lizzie.’ She had played no real part in Sam’s life and was a relative stranger. Why would he be impressed or friendly towards her just because she was related to his mother? Still, she thought she’d seen a spark of something at the funeral but it was yet to ignite today. Once, Joe had suggested that he and Lizzie pose for a photograph in the butterfly house but Sam had shaken his head angrily and wandered off. Joe had given Lizzie a sheepish look of apology, which she had dismissed with a wave of her hand. She did enjoy watching Joe and Sam together though. They had a straightforward relationship, which she didn’t recognise from