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*****
She knew it was silly.
And, if she was really honest, she wasn't as scared of them now as she had been when she was younger. Then she would really cry as she made her way along the corridor to her parents' room, howling even louder if the lightning flashed as she did so, illuminating the house with those eerie, spooky shadows. Just long enough for the monsters to see her, and for Emily to know they were there...
And she would run even faster, bursting open her parents' door. Her dad probably already awake, listening out for her, smiling reassuringly. Then her mom would wake up, bleary eyed and irritable.
Then the usual conversation, how lightning was nothing to be scared of, she was a big girl now, and yes, the thunder was loud but it was just a NOISE, and it couldn't hurt her. And yet, for all the lectures, she would know that in a few minutes she would be tucked up beside Mommy in bed and Dad would kiss her and then wander off to her room to sleep there. She'd often wished it could have been the other way around, just once, and Mom would be the one to go and Dad could stay, but no, it was always Dad.
She admitted that one good thing about that was that she got to sleep on his side of the bed, her head on his pillow, the bed still warm from him, and that lovely, male, reassuring smell. And, for the next few nights, her own bed would smell of him too. She treasured that, and was always wistful when it eventually faded.
But that was all a long time ago, and Emily was much bigger now. An adult, though she didn't always feel like one. But certainly too old to be scared of noisy weather.
But... this was a big old storm. One of the loudest, most intense she could remember. And it was close, hardly any gap between the flash of lightning and the intense, brutal clap of the following thunder.
The lightning flashed once more, and there was the horrible noise again. She gasped.
No, she was too old. She could snuggle back down, maybe pull the blankets over her head -- that would be ok -- and go back to sleep.
Except...
Her mother was away. Her dad was down the corridor, probably lying awake, knowing how much she hated storms. It would almost be kinder to go and see him, let him know she was OK, and then he could sleep. And it would make her feel better to see him, just for a minute.
So -- yes. Better for both of them.
Decision made, she slipped out of bed. Dressing gown, she wondered? It was chilly. But no, she'd zoom down, tell him she was fine, zoom back. She'd be back in her warm bed in two minutes tops.
The rain thudded heavily on the roof as she opened her door and made her way along the corridor. How many storms had there been when she'd done this, she wondered? Ten? Twenty? Hard to keep track. A lot, anyway.
The door to her parents' room was ajar and she pushed it open.
"Hi Emily." Her Dad's voice, a little sleepy, but amused and affectionate. "I thought you might be along."
"Hi Dad. I just came to tell you I'm fine. In case you were worried."
She saw him move slightly in the darkness, just a shape. It was strange to see her mother's side so empty.
"Thanks darling. I'm glad. You go back to bed now. I'll see you in the morning."
"Night Daddy. Love you."
"Love you too."
She turned to go, but then a question came to her. She hadn't realised it was there, but it must have been, lurking just below the surface these last few days.
"Dad?"
"Yes hon?"
"Is Mom... she is coming back, isn't she?"
There was a silence.
"Yes Emily, she's coming back."
"Is she really at Aunt Susie's?"
Another pause. She knew sometimes they lied to her, she understood parents had to do that sometimes, but she really hoped he wouldn't now.
"No, she's not there. She's... I think she's in a hotel. Or maybe staying with Diana."
"You don't KNOW?"
"Sssh! It's fine. We'll sort it out. Husbands and wives... they have these little bumps in the road. You'll find out one day. Now... go back to bed."
"She's going to come back?"
"Yes. Of course she is."
Dad's voice was reassuring, soothing, confident. But it wasn't working. She still felt unsettled. Something was wrong.
I don't want her to come back, she suddenly realised. God, what a bitch I am. I don't want my mother back.
And it was true. The house was a nicer, calmer place without her. Her Dad seemed more relaxed. Even Jester, their cat, seemed even sleepier and lazier than usual. Somehow when Mom was around, everything was that little bit more tense. She had the ability to find fault with anything, or generate drama out of nothing. But she knew her father loved her, and he must miss her.
"OK... well, good night."
"Good night Emily."
"Dad?"
"Yes?" A slightly exasperated tone now, but she never worried about that. Dad hardly ever got cross, and when he did it was like a short, sharp explosion, lasting just a few minutes and then gone, the offender forgiven and everybody friends again. Whereas her mother... her mother could simmer for weeks over things, cold and bitchy until you could hardly bear to be in the same room with her. She wasn't sure her mother ever really forgave anything. It was all filed away, ready to be trotted out and used against you at some point in the future.
"Could I... can I sleep here tonight? It's a big storm."
As if to prove her point the lightning obligingly flashed again. She braced herself for the thunderclap, but still jumped when it arrived.
"You're a bit old for that, Emily."
"Just tonight. It might be the last time. Please, Daddy?"
"Fine. Get in. But don't hog the blankets."
See? He was teasing her. She was forgiven already.
"I won't."
She was glad to slip into her mother's side of the bed. It was strangely unfamiliar, being there, rather than where he was. Different smells, too. More feminine, yet somehow slightly harsh.
