There is an age at which children aren't aware of what is going on, an age when things can be discussed without their little brains picking up on tones, what age is that? Who knows? I don't recalled a point that I suddenly developed a memory, or a time that I don't remember. I feel like I remember everything, like the Christmas Day photograph that hangs in a house that now belongs to Janice, one she still hasn't removed. Do I remember it though? Or do I feel like I remember it because I have spent years admiring the smiles of my parents and I?
I do, however, remember the first time I silently worried about a topic I wasn't meant to hear my parents discussing. Money. I was just 10 years old and sitting in my bedroom speaking to my friend Bethany through our radios that my parents had bought us for Christmas.
— — — —
Flashback
"We can do that tomorrow. Over." I told Bethany.
"Can I come to your house after school? Over." Bethany's voice crackled back through the speaker of the radio in my hand.
"Do you read me? Over." She repeated, our phrases picked up from Spy Kids.
I had heard Bethany, but my ears were straining to listen to my parents talking downstairs. Their voices weren't raised, but something was off. I think it was the tone that I picked up on first, the stressful tone of my Mum's voice.
"They're saying it could last years. What about our repayments? No one will buy from you during the recession!" I heard my Mum say.
"We've got food on the table, try not to worry." My Dad told her, looking back on it now I'm not sure if he was trying to convince her or himself.
"For now."
"We can always downsize." Dad announced.
"Move house? We can't do that! Alex will be devastated." My Mum exclaimed.
"If it comes to it, we'll explain it to her. She doesn't have to know for now." My Dad said through a hushed voice.
"Ally, do you read me? Over." Bethany snapped me back into my childhood.
"Sorry Bethany, got to go. This is code red. Over."
"Rodger that. Over." Bethany said firmly.
I didn't confront my parents; not for quite some time anyway. Instead I spent weeks fretting about the idea that I was moving house. What does downsize mean? Will I still have a bedroom? A bed? I heard that Alice Wishart's parents made her move into a car. Will we live in a car? Do we keep the dog? The thoughts spun around in my head, completely taking over my developing brain. I was at an age that meant stories travelled around school, kids were being put into counselling because their parents had split up over money, I fretted that my parents would split too.
It all came to a head when the teacher told me to concentrate. I tried to focus myself again, never being one to get into trouble, but my mind was so fixated on worrying about my life as I knew it. After three attempts to focus my attention on school work, Mrs Davis gave me a time out. At the end of the time out, she asked me what I was daydreaming about, her face dropping as I began to cry.
"I can't tell you because you'll tell my Mum." I sobbed.
"You can tell me anything, Alex" She rubbed my arm to comfort me.
"My parents are getting divorced, we're moving out and going to live in our car like Alice Wishart. I think we're going to kill the dog too." I blurted out.
Of course, Mrs Davis did tell my Mum as I expected. I was angry when my Mum told me, but relieved when she informed me that we weren't going to live in our car, nor were we killing the dog, and that her and Dad were still very much in love. She explained what a recession meant to me, telling me that we would be fine if we just lowered our living standards. She told me that we might have to start going out on family trips less often, maybe not go on a summer holiday for a few years, but that if we worked together her and Dad would do everything they could to keep life as normal. And that's what they did.
Mum also explained that I was lucky. She told me how it wasn't nice to tell people that Alice was living from her car. She explained, gently, to me that society could be unfair; not everyone was dealt the same cards. I remember being mesmerised by this, I didn't know that my parents earned more, or less, than my friend's parents. To this day, I am grateful that my Mum explained hierarchy to me at that age. She didn't allow me to grow up with a narrow minded view that just because I had more presents under the tree at Christmas didn't mean I was more special than my friends, just that I was lucky. She didn't allow me to grow up thinking that money was everything, explaining that money was an important aspect of life, but that it could be taken away in an instant.
— — — —
A few months after my Dad's death was when Aoife began to act up. It was silly things at first, tormenting Theo, or refusing to tidy up after herself. Leah and I had put it down to adjustment; losing her Grandad but gaining a brother or sister. We tried to adapt new ways of communication, asking her to write letters to Grandad in heaven, or spending one on one time with her doing things that she enjoyed.
Just as I had my time when things came to a head, Aoife had hers too. Every Tuesday Aoife would attend the Arsenal academy, her football coming on leaps and bounds in the previous months. That night was a disaster, Aoife claimed she couldn't find her shoes only for Leah to find them stuffed under the sofa, Theo had been up all night with a fever, and the house was in utter chaos as Leah kissed me on her way out the door.
I spent the evening cleaning, checking on Theo more times that I care to admit, the anxiousness of having a sick child in the house had never left me. Leah and Aoife weren't due back until 8pm, so it came as a surprise to me when the door burst open at 7:30 with a roar erupting from Leah's mouth as she walked in behind Aoife.
"Upstairs, PJs on and straight to bed!"
"I hate you!" Aoife screamed back.
I watched as Aoife stormed upstairs, my eyes widening as I watched Leah's face and neck turn red with anger.
"What on earth has happened?" I whispered.
"I do not know what has gotten into her but this can't go on." Leah snapped.
"What has she done?"
"Pushing and shoving another girl on her own team until the little girl fell over. Refused to apologise, screamed at me in front of everyone and then took her shin guards off and threw them across the room at her." Leah ranted.
"Did this girl say something to her?" I asked.
"I don't know, I didn't even see them speaking. All I got from her was I hate you. She's out of control, Alex. Completely out of control."
Leah was exaggerating, Aoife was nowhere near out of control; I got it though, she was worked up and usually I would've been there to shoulder the embarrassment with her, but that night I hadn't been. I pulled her into me, letting her hug out her frustration for a few minutes until I felt her begin to relax.
"I'll go talk to her, I don't want her going to bed upset." Leah spoke softly now she had time to gather her thoughts.
"You stay here, I'll talk to her." I smiled.
"Tell her I'm sorry for shouting."
"She definitely takes her aggression from you." I joked as I pecked her lips.
I headed upstairs, slowly opening Aoife's bedroom door and watching as she attempted to get her arm into her pyjama top.
"Need some help?" I giggled.
"Maybe a little." She sighed.
"C'mon here you."
I helped her get her arm through the sleeve before pulling her into me, feeling her begin to sob.
"What's going on, Aoifs?" I whispered.
"I hate her." She sobbed.
"Who do you hate?"
"Mum. I hate her. I've hated her for ages."
Breathe Alex. I wanted nothing more than to scold her for talking about Leah like that. Leah loved her children more than anything in the world, it would break her heart to hear Aoife say something like this. However, their were times to be defensive wife and times to be a listening mother, this was the latter.
"Why, what has she done?" I tried to maintain a calm tone.
"I just don't want her to be my Mum." Aoife huffed.
"Okay. Why is that?"
"I don't know." She snapped back.
"Aoifs, I'm trying to talk to you but you can't say things like that with no reason." I said sternly.
"Tegan said that all footballers leave their families. She said that Mum will leave us. She said that she heard her Mum say that it's all fake."
"Fake?" I questioned.
"Tegan's Mum said that Mummy broke your heart."
"How does Tegan's Mum know something like that, silly? Has she got cameras in fitted?" I joked, pretending to look around the room for them.
"No Mummy!" She giggled back slightly.
"Then how could she know that?" I raised one eyebrow.
"Everyone knows everything about us. That's how they know that Mum won't love me anymore if I don't learn how to take corners properly."
I felt my heart break. For so long I had been obsessing over what fame was doing to Leah and I; I hadn't even thought about how Aoife was old enough to understand these things now too. Well, think she understood them.
"Do you remember that time you were sick allllll over yourself?"
"Yep." She giggled.
"What did Mummy do when you said you wanted a hug even though you were covered?"
"Hugged me."
"Mhmm. Do you remember that time that you told Grandma that Mummy said her cooking was bad and Grandma shouted at Mummy?"
"Yep." She giggled again.
"What did mummy do?"
"Called me a monster and tickled me until I couldn't breathe." She recalled.
"She did. Do you remember when I didn't tell you about Granda and me and you were both really really upset?"
"Yep." She sighed.
"Who did mummy make sure was okay first?"
"Me. She hugged me so tight I couldn't breathe." She smiled up at me.
"You won't understand this now, Aoifs, but that's a thing called unconditional love. Mummy has that for only a few people in the whole wide world. Want to know a secret?"
"Yep!"
"You're one of those people." I whispered.
"What does that mean?"
"It means that even if you can't take corners, even when you misbehave like you did tonight, and even when you're all gross and covered in sick... Mummy still loves you just as much."
"She wants me to be a footballer though, footballers have to take corners." She sighed.
"She wants you to be happy."
"Playing football makes me happy but taking corners makes me sad."
"Guess what though?"
"Mhmm?"
"Not everyone's Mummy captained the England team. You have your very own coach to help you learn to not hate them so much." I winked at her.
Aoife giggled slightly before wrapping her arms around me tightly. Her little arms strained to squeeze me as much as she wanted to but I knew she was feeling slightly better. She was lost in her own thoughts for a few moments before she spoke again.
"I don't really hate Mummy, I was just angry." She said, sadness in her voice.
"Will we go and tell her that?"
"Yeah. Let's go." Aoife smiled, reaching her hand into mine.
We walked back downstairs to the smell of chocolate, walking into the kitchen to find Leah squirting some cream onto Aoife's mug. She was interrupted by Aoife running towards her with open arms, a smile immediately filling both of their faces.
"I'm sorry mummy, I don't hate you. I love you." Aoife repeated over and over.
"I'm sorry for shouting, baby." Leah smiled down at her.
"Whose is that?" Aoife grinned.
"Yours, it's a sorry present." Leah tickled her.
"Thanks, Mummy."
Aoife skipped into the living room, Leah following her with her hot chocolate before setting it beside her and sitting next to her. She found my eyes, mouthing a small thank you in my direction. I just smiled back at her, my heart once again filling with love watching them giggle together as Leah blew on the mug to prevent Aoife burning her tongue.
— — — —
I awoke the following morning to the noise of a football being kicked in the back garden. I pulled a hoodie over my head before making my way downstairs to find Leah, Aoife and Theo outside at 7:45am. Leah had set a training cone a distance away from the net, creating Aoife's very own corner. Theo was stood in the makeshift penalty box waiting on the delivery, whilst Leah was in nets. I stood against the patio door, watching on as Leah gently instructed Aoife on the correct technique, praising her for every kick she made whether it landed in the right place or not.
I still needed to prove to Aoife that Leah and I were stronger than ever, but that could wait until another day. For now, the infectious giggles of the three most important people in my life was enough.
"School!" I shouted through a chuckle in their direction.
"One more kick!" The three said in unison.
"3 against 1?" I protested.
"Always." Leah winked at me.
Thanks Mum and Dad, for teaching me how to reassure a worried little kid.