An Imperfect Circle (30 page)

Matt smirks when he sees what I’m doing but he doesn’t say anything
.

Karl subtly kisses the top of my head and I let his scent overwhelm my senses as my heartbeat slows to match his.

“Can I have a cuddle too?” Jamie’s hopeful voice causes my eyes to open to see her standing in front of me with Craig’s hands on her shoulders.

“
Who do you want a cuddle from, sweetie?” I ask her fondly.

She looks contemplative, like she hadn’t really considered that she has a choice. She looks around at each of us and then her eyes settle on Craig and she smiles up at him.

He smiles softly back and picks her up. She squeezes him round the neck and beams at me over his shoulder. I wink back because she looks so happy.

“
Probably time to take her to bed, Craig,” Karl says.

His breath tickles my hair and it makes me strangely sleepy. I wish, not for the first time, that we could spend the night together again because I miss being surrounded by his warmth and wrapped up in his unique smell.

“But it’s the weekend,” Jamie pouts.

“
And it’s nine o’clock,” Karl says in that stern voice that rarely ever works on me but seems quite effective on his little sister.

Her bottom lip just out slightly and, honestly, if it was up to me I’d let her stay up all night just because of that but Karl seems to have developed an immunity to her cut
eness.

“
Jamie,” Craig whispers, tugging on her hand gently.

“
Please, Karl,” Jamie pleads. “Can’t I just stay up for half an hour more?”

“
Dad set your bed time,” Karl answers without empathy. “Go ask him.”

Jamie looks
discouraged by the idea so I slide off the sofa and kneel in front of her.

“
How come you don’t want to go to bed now?” I ask.

She chews on her bottom lip
before answering. “I’m not sleepy.”

“
How about we go talk to your dad together?” I offer.

Her dainty eyebrow
s knit together as she mulls it over and then she nods and offers me her hand. I grin and accept, leading the way towards the lounge where I suspect Andrew will be finishing repainting the skirting boards with Ian.

Karl offers me a sarcastic look that tells me Jamie-Lea isn’t getting her bedtime extended and I stick my tongue out at him.

When Craig realises he’d be left in the room with Karl and Matt, he scarpers after us.

Andrew looks up briefly from his painting as we enter the room, offers a small smile,
and then he returns to his work.

“
What’s up Jamie-Lea?” Ian prompts, setting down his paintbrush.

I nudge her forwards gently and move my hand to her shoulder. I’m not sure if she’s shy or she doesn’t want to get in trouble but she doesn’t talk very much.

She looks at Ian and then at her Dad and Ian calls out to Andrew and motions to his little sister, seemingly understanding what Jamie wants with just a look.

“
What’s up, little one?” Andrew smiles, setting down his paintbrush and lifting Jamie onto his knee.

She beams and wraps her arms around his neck and I get front row tickets to the way Andrew’s face softens upon seeing his daughter happy. The pain that he always carries seems to lesson slightly as he gives his youngest child his full attention.

“Daddy, could I please stay up for just half an hour more?” She asks with her voice surprisingly steady and her chin jutted out slightly as though she’s proud of herself for being so bold.

Andrew’s lips tilt upwards ever so slightly and I can tell he’s a little
impressed by it as well.

“
Would it be fair if I let you stay up half an hour later and not everyone else?” Andrew cocks his head at Jamie.

She shakes her head immediately.

“So you think they should all get half an hour extra bedtime as well?”

Jamie nods, albeit less confidently.

“There are eight of you, nine if we count Elise – and we probably should because I’m starting to think she’s moved in,” he turns and winks at me.

I grin back because I
know he thinks it’s a good thing. Everybody is always welcome at the Carter house.

“
That’s four and a half hours if we add it all together.”

Jamie’s shoulders sag like she just realised she isn’t going to get her way.

“How about this,” Andrew chuckles, gently tapping her on the nose. “You can go to bed, but you don’t have to turn your lights out for half an hour. Maybe you could get one of your big brothers to read you a story?”

Jamie nods enthusiastically, her face brightening again and I suspect that Andrew only made the slight concession because he’s not entirely immune to her cuteness.

“Alright,” Andrew smiles, setting Jamie down on the floor again. “No trying this stuff on Granddad or Ian when I go away.”

“
I wish you didn’t have to go, daddy,” Jamie sobers again.

Andrew frowns.
“It’s daddy’s job, Jamie-Lea.”

She nods dutifully.

“Remember why I have to go?”

“
Because you have to make sure other boys and girls are safe and happy like we are. That they can go to school and have food and things.”

Andrew nods and smiles down at her.
“But you know I love you all very much and I’ll miss you while I’m gone.”

“
I love you too, daddy,” Jamie smiles and I catch Ian smiling out of the corner of my eye. It’s not his usual smug smirk.

It’s one of affection
and pride for his sister and father and I can hardly blame him.

I feel the same.

If there’s such a thing as organised chaos, then this might be it. And it’s all Ian’s fault.

It was his eighteenth birthday the other day and he celebrated with his friends and older cousins who were kind enough to ensure he spent his second day as an adult with a near comatose-inducing hangover.

Since none of the others could join in
on the adults-only celebration, Ian decided we would have a day of fun for the rest of the family today.

I helped him set up the festivities with Karl and Matt and now I’m standing to the side and observing the chaos.

We filled what must have been over a hundred water bombs, lined the garden with thick plastic sheets, spread out the garden hose, and created our own water park.

With Andrew on deployment, a
couple of the Carter cousins are helping out by barbecuing burgers for everyone and refilling the constantly dwindling supply of water bombs. Uncle Eric and Granddad Carter are keeping safely out of the way on the patio.

“
Your socks are wet,” Karl whispers in my ear, hooking his arm around my waist and pulling me backwards into him.

The best thing about Ian’s idea is that it’s summer and it’s hot and Karl is therefore wearing only his shorts and boxers. He’s not even wearing socks and shoes.

He’s semi-naked, dripping wet, and yes… I’m going to say it.

He looks even better than a
Wagon Wheel.

“
Don’t look at me like that,” he growls, squeezing me slightly and I grin because I can feel the effect it’s having.

I know now to take it as a compliment, and perhaps as a tribute to Karl’s self-restraint. After all this time, he’s never once managed to make me feel
uncomfortable, nor has he pressured me.

We’ve made some progress, because during one of the nights he lay with me until I fell asleep, I mustered the courage to take my bra off.

It wasn’t for his benefit. The stupid thing was driving me insane. It felt like a three-inch thick wall separating me from him.

I physically heard him gulp when I removed it but he didn’t even sneak a peek until I gave him permission.

To be honest, I had to give him permission because I think he almost snapped his neck trying not to look.

E
ven with it being progress, I know it’s far less than most men would expect. But Karl has never pressured me, never given me any inkling that he needs more. He always seems happy with whatever I can offer and that’s what gave me the confidence to make that move.

It’s also
why I move away from him and his slightly swollen predicament and return to the notion of my wet socks.

“
Of course my socks are wet,” I reply sarcastically. “We’re having a water fight.”

“
You could take them off you know,” he retorts.

“
Never,” I stage whisper back.

It’s a bit of a running joke. He gave me a pair of socks for my
seventeenth birthday. I maintain my standpoint that it was a rubbish present but he said it was because I’d rocked his socks off.

I refuse to admit that m
y feet have been metaphorically sock-free since I was six because he doesn’t need to know that he’s the reason.

“
I have no reason to,” I shrug nonchalantly because I know it will drive him crazy.

“
Really?” He prompts with mock frustration.

“
Really.” I nod defiantly.

He knows I’m joking but he still raises an eyebrow at me and his eyes
twinkle with mischief.

I’m about to question it when he lifts his arms and I’m drenched in ice-cold water.

I shriek and slap his chest with a rather satisfying whollop but it doesn’t make up for the fact that I am absolutely soaked to the bone.

Matt guffaws with laughter and I
glare at him too because he was the one who handed Karl the bucket.

Donkey nuts, the both of them.

“I love you,” Karl grins, pulling me into him and wrapping his arms around me.

I only let him because I’m freezing and I need warming up.

“You poured water over me,” I accuse through my chattering teeth.

“
I did,” he agrees. He’s still smirking.

“
I demand payback,” I sulk, tightening my grasp around him because he’s so chuffing warm and I need his body heat.

“
Anything,” he chuckles, already brandishing a Wagon Wheel from his pocket because he knows me so well.

“
I love you too,” I announce because I’ve already forgiven him.

“
Me or the Wagon Wheel?” He laughs.

“
Both,” I admit. “But I love one of you a lot more than other.”

“
Which one?” Karl asks and I glare at him because he doesn’t need to ask but I know he likes his ego stroked.

“
The one who makes my skin tingle,” I admit because I don’t mind stroking his ego once in a while.

“
Wagon Wheels affect you that strongly?” He fakes surprise and I squeeze him a little tighter as punishment.

Admittedly, it’s not a very tight squeeze because I’m
still trying to rip my Wagon Wheel open.

He chuckles at my pathetic attempts and opens
the packet before returning it to me.

I grin happily because at l
east he didn’t eat it this time and he’s in my good books because, honestly, it is warm out so I don’t mind the water too much. He’s also, as I mentioned, scrummy and mostly naked. And he’s given me a Wagon Wheel.

I think he might be perfect.

“I love you so much,” I sigh in an unusually complimentary fashion.

Karl obviously agrees
that this is abnormal because his eyebrows rise in a unified display of shock. His expression quickly softens when he realises that I’m talking to him and not the Wagon Wheel and his face breaks out into that grin that makes me warm on the inside.

“
I love you too, Elise.”

“
I know,” I nod because it’s almost like I can feel his love radiating through every atom of my being whenever he’s close.

It only seems to get stronger with time and I know that I’m a better person for having
him in my life and in my heart. My goal was to be perfect but now, thanks to Karl, I know that’s not what I need to be.

He loves me as I am. He’s not asking me to change. He’s asking me to love
myself as much as he does.

I smile as I let that thought sink in.

My smile drops when I see Grandma Carter making her way into the garden through the back door. A woman with a formal military uniform follows and my stomach churns uneasily at the expression on her face.

Something is wrong.

“Peter, this lady must be here to help look after the kids,” Grandma says, smiling at her husband.

Peter glances at the officer before closing his eyes for a second. He takes his wife in his arms and whispers something in her ear.

Karl and Ian have stopped what they were doing too. Our eyes are all on the officer who stands primly at the edge of the patio whilst introductions are made, just out of earshot.

“
We don't need a babysitter today,” Danny laughs, checking out the woman in passing as he comes closer to load up on water balloons.

I exchange a look with Karl and I can see the deeply furrowed lines on his brow and the worry in his eyes. Ian is harder to read but it's obvious
they’re both relieved the others haven't twigged yet.

Whilst the woman talks to Granddad
and Uncle Eric, Ian sets his jaw and starts gathering up his siblings. His voice is calm and, if it wasn't for the set of his shoulders, I'd never know he was anything other than his usual bossy self. He orders them into the house and tells them to get dried off and into their pyjamas before coming back downstairs to the den.

I squeeze Karl's hand because he's not said a word since the woman arrived and I can see his mind is running overtime trying to work things out.

I tug gently because, whatever's happening, he needs to get inside and get dried off before we find out. We climb the stairs in silence and Karl barely looks at me as he drags his wet shorts off and hangs them on the radiator to dry.

Now isn't the time to admire his body, not when he's obviously scared stiff inside. I don't know that much about the military but I know that when somebody shows up in uniform, out of the blue, with that expression on their
face, the news won't be good.

I hand him a dry t-shirt, the softest one I can find because I suspect comfort is something we might both need. I help him tug it on and I feel the slight tremble in his muscles.

I can feel his fear as my own. I'm terrified too. This might be the first time I haven't wanted to hear the truth.

I wrap my arms around him from behind in a silent embrace. No matter what this is, we'll get through it. Together. I know he can feel my love as I hold him and I just hope it's enough
for him to hold it together.

“
I can't do this,” he whispers, turning around so he can return my embrace.

I'd tell him that it might not be something bad but we both know that wouldn't be true so I
just stand there as we hold each other and press gentle kisses all over his chest.

He buries his face in my neck and kisses me. I know he wouldn't have done it if he was thinking straight so I don't blame him.

It makes me slightly uncomfortable but I know he didn't mean it to and I let him stay there without pushing him away.

He needs me to be stronger than that right now.

He lets out a long breath and gives me one last squeeze before releasing me. I quickly pull on some dry clothes and follow him down the stairs. Hand-in-hand.

The
atmosphere in the den is choking. It’s clawing at my throat and tearing at my insides. Even the youngest children seem to feel that something is wrong, even if they don’t yet fully understand it.

The military officer sits carefully on the edge of the armchair in the corner whilst Gr
anddad Carter stands front and centre. Uncle Eric took Grandma and the cousins to his house. It’s probably for the best. Whatever’s coming, Grandma Carter’s health and memory aren’t in the best shape.

Ian has Jake on his knee whilst Matt has Jamie-Lea on his. Matt’s face is grim whilst Ian’s is
completely blank. I’m fairly sure he’s switched off and I sort of wish I could do the same.

Granddad clears his throat once we’re all assembled.
“There’s no easy way to say this,” his deep, gravelly voice is pained as he meets each of his grandchildren’s eyes.

My palms grow sweaty but I stay clinging on to Karl because I’m scared. For both of us.

“Your father was killed in the line of duty.”

He continues speaking but I’m not hearing a single word out of his mouth.

Andrew is dead.

The Carters have lost their father. Bile rises in my throat but I force it down. Andrew wasn’t my
dad and this is impossibly hard for me to hear. I almost can’t bring myself to look at Karl but I force myself to.

I see the way his soul
is being crushed like an empty can. It folds in on itself to a barely recognisable mess. I see all the hope fade away from his eyes and the agonising pain that distorts his features.

His gaze drifts around the room, from sibling to sibling. I know what he’s thinking because I’m thinking the same.

Orphans. Every single one of them.

I sort of wish I believed in a g
od so I could blame them. What sort of world takes both parents from their children? Jamie never even got a chance to meet her mother and now she’s lost her father at just six years old.

At the risk of further heartbreak, I chance a look at the small girl. She looks fragile, small, breakable. She also looks confused and her full attention is on hugging Matt as trembles
rock through his body.

I can see
the way he’s shaking from where I’m sitting and I’d comfort him if I could but there’s nothing I can do. I’m frozen to the spot wishing there was something, anything, I could do to take their pain away.

But there’s nothing.

Realisation dawns for eight-year old Jake. He was previously chanting “no” over and over again, shaking his head but he’s now starting to understand that this isn’t some sick joke and the bawling commences. My own tears are flowing freely but it’s heart-wrenching to see and hear the tears of a child.

Karl takes a deep, juddering breath and wipes his eyes on the back of his hand before scooping Jake up from where he’s slipped onto the floor at Ian’s feet.

He proceeds to hold his youngest brother as he cries for the father he’ll never see again.