Read The Night the Angels Came for Free Online Page B

wish. You will become very close to me and Michael over the coming months. Not to talk of my condition would be like ignoring an elephant in the room. I wish Michael could talk more freely.’
    ‘How much does Michael understand of the severity of your condition?’ I now asked.
    ‘I’ve been honest with him, Cathy. I have told him I am very ill – that unfortunately the treatment didn’t work and I am unlikely to get better. But I don’t think he has fully accepted it.’
    ‘Does he talk about his worries to you?’
    ‘No, he changes the subject. I’m sorry he was rude earlier but he didn’t want to come here this evening.’
    ‘It’s understandable,’ I said. ‘There’s no need to apologize. Coming here has forced Michael to confront a future he can’t bear to think about – one without you. To be honest, since I heard about you and Michael I have tried to imagine what it would be like for Adrian and Paula to be put in Michael’s position, and I can’t. I can’t contemplate it. So if I, as an adult, struggle, how on earth does Michael cope? He’s only eight.’
    ‘By pretending it’s not happening,’ Patrick said. ‘He’s planning our next summer holiday. We always take – I mean we used to take – a holiday together in August, but I can’t see it happening this year.’
    ‘It might,’ I said. ‘You never know.’
    ‘Possibly, but I’m not giving Michael false hope.’
    ‘No, and I won’t either,’ I reassured him.
    A cry of laughter went up from the room next door where the children were playing Sunken Treasure, followed by a round of applause. ‘I think someone has found treasure,’ I said.
    Patrick’s eyes sparkled as he looked at me and said, ‘I think Michael and I have too.’

Chapter Six
Lonely and Afraid
     
     
    T hat evening Patrick and I continued talking for another hour while the children played. Our conversation grew easier and more natural as we both relaxed and got to know each other. We didn’t talk about the future again or his illness but about our separate pasts and the many happy memories we both had. He told me of all the good times he’d had as a child in Ireland and then with his wife, Kathleen. I shared my own happy childhood memories and then told him how I’d met John, my husband, and how we’d started fostering. I also told him of the shock and disbelief I’d felt when John had suddenly left me. I was finding Patrick very easy to talk to, as I think he did me.
    ‘Looking back,’ I said speaking of John’s affair, ‘I guess there were warning signs: the late nights at work, the weekend conferences. Classic signs, but I chose to ignore them.’
    ‘Which was understandable,’ Patrick said. ‘You trusted him. Trust is what a good marriage is based on.’
    ‘I’ve let go of my anger, but it will be a long time before I forgive him,’ I admitted.
    Patrick nodded thoughtfully.
    I made us both a cup of tea while the children continued playing board games; then when it was nearly 7.15 and the light outside was staring to fade, Patrick said, ‘Well, Cathy, I could sit here all night chatting with you but we’d best be off. Michael has school in the morning and I’m sure you have plenty to do.’
    ‘Will you be all right catching the bus?’ I said. ‘Or can I give you a lift?’
    ‘No, we’ll be fine, thank you. I’m sure you’d rather get started with your children’s bedtime routine.’
    I smiled. As a single parent – having raised Michael alone for six years – Patrick was familiar with the bedtime routine of young children: of bathing, teeth-brushing, bedtime stories, hugs and kisses goodnight, etc. He was right: I did appreciate the opportunity of settling the children into bed rather than driving across town.
    We went to the table where the children were now in the middle of a game of Monopoly. ‘Time to go, son,’ Patrick said.
    ‘Oh, can’t I finish the game first?’ Michael moaned good-humouredly. I was pleased to see he had