I spent most of the day in bed, so had no idea that it was already eleven o'clock until Laura joined me. Knowing my wife as well as I did, I immediately realized something was bothering her. She barely said a word as she entered the bedroom and didn't begin to tell me the events of the day until she was huddled safely under the bedsheets.
"I don't want to worry you," she started. "But I have to tell you-"
"I'm fine," I butted in. "I may be unwell, but I'm still capable of listening to your problems."
"Our problems."
Okay, that was slightly worrying.
"Just tell me." I hated waiting for bad news.
Laura snuggled down under the duvet and leaned her head against my shoulder. "Emma has decided to give herself a haircut," she explained. "She used the craft scissors I gave her to give her to cut loads of hair off."
I must admit that I was relieved nothing worse had happened. "Okay, well we can deal with that," I reassured her.
Pulling away from me to prop herself up on her elbows, my wife locked eye contact with me, telling me through facial expressions I knew all too well that this was no laughing matter. The reassuring smile I had been using quickly fell from my face. "Simon, she cut massive chunks of her hair - they were all across the floor!" Knowing better than to interrupt, I laid back and continued to listen. "I think I should ring Amanda or social services, because this is not normal behaviour. This was not what I had expected!"
When she paused for a moment, I realized it was my turn to contribute something. "I know this isn't easy, but Emma hasn't exactly had an easy life," I reminded her. "We both knew it wasn't going to be plain sailing with her."
"You weren't there!" Flustered and irritated, she was beginning to raise her voice to a child-waking level. I could see there was no point trying to fight my corner - I didn't want this to turn into a full-scale argument - so just hushed her.
"I'm sorry, Simon," she backed down, "I just wasn't prepared to deal with this so early on."
"I know." I leaned over to put a hand on hers. "I should have been there."
She sighed. "You were ill. It wasn't your fault. I'm just..."
"Shocked?"
"Exactly."
"Lay back down. You look tired."
"I am." She settled back into the pillows, sighing deeply again. Closing my eyes, Ilistened to the relaxing sound of her breathing as I gathered my thoughts.
"Laura?" I broke the silence.
"Uh-huh."
"You know your old friend, Lindsey?"
"Yes."
"Her little girl - Elizabeth - didn't she cut her own hair once?" I desperately wanted to reassure her.
"Lizzie was four. Emma is seven," she replied.
"Yes, but Elizabeth had a normal upbringing. Emma must be behind in some ways - we have to make allowances."
A faint smile of relief appeared on her face. "I suppose you're right. Thank you."
"It's okay." I turned on my side, cupped her face between my hands and kissed her gently. "I love you."
"Love you too."
Reaching over to my bedside table, I turned the light out, leaving us in darkness to fall asleep.
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