Mike
Mike woke suddenly at five. Bolt upright in bed, slippery with sweat. He grabbed a breath, listened, wondering whether Megan had cried out, though she usually came into their room if she’d had a bad dream and wriggled between them. No one got much sleep after that, her elbows and knees sharp as tacks. Plus she snored. A four-year-old! Mike asked Vicky once if they should get her checked out. Vicky rolled her eyes and told him to forget it: they’d enough on their plates seeing doctors for Kieran, Megan was just fine.
The house was quiet. Vicky, beside him, turned over and pulled at the duvet. Mike lay back down and closed his eyes. Had he been dreaming? He didn’t usually remember his dreams. Now he sensed an aftertaste, like a blurred reflection of something wrong, something shameful. The old sour feeling from way back, times he didn’t want to think about. He wiped it away, steam on a mirror, and tried to sleep; if he got back off sharpish he’d have another two hours.
Their routine proper began at seven. Kids up and dressed. Breakfast, packed lunches. At twenty past eight Vicky did the school run. Kieran was at Brook School, a place catering for children with Autistic Spectrum Disorder. There’d never been any suggestion of him going into mainstream schools, his needs too varied, too complex. Stick him in the local primary and he’d have sat in the corner for six hours, unreachable.
The staff at Brook were fantastic. Kieran had his own programme, a combination of one-to-one and group sessions to assist with his physical, mental and social skills. He’d come on in leaps and bounds, now able to greet people he’d not met before and sometimes answer simple questions. They all knew there were limits to what Kieran would achieve. He’d never live independently. Probably never take a bus ride unaccompanied. That frightened Mike more than anything. That when he and Vicky went, not to be maudlin or owt, Kieran would be in the care of the state. You couldn’t put that on to Megan, she’d have her own life to lead, maybe her own family. Might live abroad or anything.
Vicky had been home with Megan for three months after she was born but they couldn’t manage without Vicky’s income. She’d asked her mum to have Megan while she visited her customers but her mum’s health wasn’t great so it was a relief when they got a place at the childminder’s and were able to claim the fees back. Now Megan was at the nursery attached to the primary school and thriving on it. Vicky worked school hours and some evenings when Mike could sort the kids.