by Dani Atkins
Her eyes widened when she opened the cubicle door and saw me. She walked with staccato shaky steps towards the basins. Izzy said nothing, but her eyes were locked on me in the mirror, as mine were on her. There was a sheen of perspiration covering her face, giving her a cheese-like pallor, which I’m sure wasn’t the look she’d been aiming for that morning. She set the cold tap to full blast and scooped up a handful of running water, using her palm as a cup to rinse her mouth.
I took a step back, knowing how much she must hate me seeing her at her most vulnerable. For just a moment a feeling of pity washed over me, as I remembered how I too had felt physically nauseous after our confrontation. I didn’t want to feel sympathy for this woman who was effectively my adversary, but it was almost impossible not to. Walk away. This is none of your business, I told myself. This has nothing whatsoever to do with you. And yet it was impossible to leave the room.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked awkwardly.
Again, her eyes were fixed on my reflection, as though communicating through the mirror could somehow defuse the potentially explosive situation we found ourselves in.
‘I’m fine,’ Izzy declared, which was clearly a lie as I’d never seen anyone look less fine in my entire life.
‘Would you like me to fetch your husband?’
She looked surprised, and seemed to take a very long moment before shaking her head. ‘No. But… but thank you for asking.’
I fidgeted uneasily behind her, passing the soft wool cardigan from one hand to the other. The movement caught her attention and her eyes fell upon her lost item of clothing. This time she did turn around. I was taller than her, but felt immediately dwarfed in her presence in a way I couldn’t begin to explain.
‘Is that mine?’
I looked down, almost surprised to find the garment was still in my hands.
‘Erm, yes, I think it is. I found it on the floor behind the seat.’
Her green eyes locked unblinkingly on mine. Very slowly she held out one hand.
‘I was about to return it,’ I said, still clutching the folds of fabric tightly between my fingers. The temperature in the washroom was already air-conditioned cool, yet I could have sworn it dropped then by several degrees.
‘I’m sure you were. You seem honest. Trustworthy.’
The compliment sounded genuine, but to trust it would make fools of us both.
‘You don’t know me, or what I’m like,’ I countered.
For a moment, I thought I saw a ghost of a smile pass over her lips. She nodded slowly in acknowledgement. ‘That’s true, I don’t. But I have good instincts, and mine tell me that you’re a decent person. The kind of person you can rely on to do the right thing.’
The lawyers would go crazy if they knew what was happening right now, just two doors down from the meeting room. For a start, I was pretty sure it was forbidden for Izzy and me to be alone together, much less be talking to each other like this.
Her green eyes were magnetic, and as much as I wanted to, it was impossible to break free from her gaze. Her hand was still outstretched, waiting, but when I passed her the cardigan I hesitated before releasing it. In the wall of mirrors I could see our reflection, locked in the moment with the garment stretched between us, as though we about to play tug-of-war. I don’t imagine the symbolism was lost on either of us.
Izzy pulled the garment, and held it against her slender frame. ‘I guess we both have to do what we have to do, Beth.’
Weirdly, there was a feeling of sisterhood in her words. In other circumstances, in another lifetime, I could imagine myself liking this woman.
I nodded slowly, turned around and left the washroom without saying another word.
21
Beth
There was a subtle shift in atmosphere in the meeting room after the break. It would be an exaggeration to say things had warmed up, but there was a discernible climate change.
‘Let’s be honest here,’ Edward said, looking up from his papers and directing his comments to Izzy and Pete. ‘It’s in no one’s best interests for this case to go to court.’
‘I disagree,’ interjected their own lawyer, her eyes glittering at the challenge. ‘This case is too big and too important to be settled within these walls.’
Edward was shaking his head, pitting his years of experience and wisdom against the young female lawyer, who seemed more than ready for a courtroom battle. A little too ready, perhaps?
‘This case will become a media feeding frenzy. Your story will be splashed across the headlines of every single tabloid newspaper,’ warned Edward. ‘Take a moment to think how that will affect you as adults, and then multiply it by a hundred – because that’s how it will be for Noah.’ Izzy flinched as though the man who looked like Santa had suddenly produced a sabre. ‘Remember, the courts will be on Noah’s side. They will make their decision based purely on his best interests.’
‘It’s in his best interests to stay with his mother,’ Izzy declared, her voice impassioned.
‘Which mother?’ Liam asked quietly, drawing every eye in the room in his direction.
I saw the naked fear in Izzy and Pete’s eyes as they faced the possibility that a shared contact ruling might end up favouring my claim instead of theirs.
‘The law wants to ensure every child has access to their rightful heritage. They—’
‘Don’t you think Noah deserves to know where he comes from?’ I interrupted, unable to stay silent for another moment. I was going way off-piste here, speaking when I shouldn’t, and flagrantly ignoring the guidelines Edward and William had set out.
‘When he’s older, perhaps,’ conceded Pete. He glanced at his wife, who had jolted in her seat at this hypothetical suggestion. ‘Much older,’ he added hurriedly. ‘Like maybe when he’s eighteen or so.’
‘The courts will rule otherwise,’ said Edward solemnly, pulling us all back to his prepared script. As much as I imagined she wanted to, even Frankie Burrows didn’t dispute that one.
‘I’ve already missed the first eight years of his life,’ I said, my hands twisting together as I spoke. ‘But more than that, Noah has missed out too.’
Izzy instantly bristled at the implied criticism, and I knew I only had seconds to backpedal from the place my words had taken her.
‘He has a whole family he deserves to know about. He has cousins – one who’s almost the same age as him. Doesn’t he have a right to meet them, and his grandparents?’ Pete was slowly shaking his head, but Izzy looked up then, her eyes meeting mine. ‘And he should know about his father.’
Izzy reached instinctively for Pete’s hand and squeezed it comfortingly, but her eyes stayed on my face. I could tell that we had reached a critical tipping point and I was almost too frightened to carry on speaking for fear of saying the wrong thing, but I had to press home this small advantage before it slipped through my fingers. ‘I don’t even know what Noah looks like.’
For a long moment, no one spoke. The only sound was the clatter of the keyboard as Keeley captured our words and transcribed them onto her laptop screen. Izzy reached slowly for her handbag, ignoring or simply not seeing the look of disbelief on her husband’s face. I was starting to feel a little light-headed from holding my breath, terrified that even the smallest sound would somehow snap her awake as if from a hypnotist’s trance.
‘Iz?’ questioned Pete, as she drew out a plain black purse. Her fingers stilled on the clasp, hesitating for a moment, and I almost screamed in frustration. But I was panicking needlessly.
‘She can see a photo,’ she said, looking deep into her husband’s eyes. For a moment, it was as if the rest of us had suddenly disappeared. Their eyes spoke silently for several moments, a language that outsiders could never hope to understand. Whatever she said, she must have convinced him, for Pete finally gave a small nod of agreement and Izzy unfastened her purse. It was a small photograph, the type that looked as if it had been cut from a sheet of four proofs. She pulled it out from behind i
ts plastic window and stared at it for a long moment, holding it in her hands as if it were a playing card.
I don’t know how hard it must have been to do, but I could see Izzy’s fingers were trembling slightly as she laid the photograph down on the table. Very deliberately she turned it around so that the image was now facing me. My heart was pounding so loudly I’m surprised Keeley wasn’t attempting to minute its thunderous beat. With one neatly trimmed fingernail, Izzy slid the photograph across the glass towards me.
I gasped, in much the way I imagined Izzy herself might have done when her newborn baby was placed in her arms. The first sight of your own child will always be one of life’s most precious memories. I could feel my eyes begin to fill with tears, making it hard to see the deep brown eyes, the straight nose and the full mouth, stretched wide in a cheesy smile. His dark hair stood out against the pale blue backdrop the school photographer had used for the portrait. I already knew its springy texture, and the funny double crown that was responsible for the small irrepressible quiff on the top of his head. My fingertips held the memory of that hair in every curving whorl. I looked at the face I had never seen before, and knew it better than even my own reflection.
Wordlessly, I reached into my own handbag, mirroring the actions of the woman on the opposite side of the table. Very slowly, as though laying down a winning ace, I placed the photograph of Tim down on the glass-topped table and swivelled it towards her. Her gasp wasn’t as loud as mine, but the shock that registered on her face was every bit as obvious as my own had been. The lawyers had arranged for DNA tests to be conducted, but in that moment I don’t think anyone in the room thought they were anything more than a box-ticking formality. I half expected someone to call out ‘Snap’, for anyone could see that Noah was a miniature carbon copy of his late father.
With obvious reluctance, I pushed the photograph of Noah back towards its rightful owner. ‘Do you think it might be possible for me to get a copy of this?’ I turned to William and Edward, suddenly unsure. ‘Is it okay to ask for that?’
Before they could answer, Izzy once again surprised me. ‘You can keep that one.’ Even her own husband looked shocked by the unexpectedly generous gesture.
‘Thank you,’ I said softly, picking up both photographs and sliding them back into my wallet before Izzy had a sudden change of heart and snatched hers back. Although something told me she wouldn’t do that. I would probably never get to know this woman well enough to decide if I liked her or not, but even today, when so much between us remained unresolved, I already respected her. She had earned that.
There was a comforting completeness knowing the two photographs now resided together in the same leather compartment. Father and son. Together at last.
*
‘Are you sure this isn’t taking you out of your way? I could easily catch a cab.’
‘It’s no trouble,’ reassured Liam easily as we crossed the busy road in front of the hotel. ‘I’m parked in one of the side streets over there,’ he explained, his hand resting fleetingly at the small of my back to guide me.
After Izzy had given me the photograph, the meeting had pretty much drawn to a natural close.
‘You already have our proposal for shared contact,’ Edward said, nodding towards the document Frankie was slipping into a bright red patent leather satchel, which was probably as close to a conventional briefcase as she was prepared to go.
‘Yes. We’ll be in touch when we’ve had time to review it.’
‘I think you’ll find it reasonable and extremely fair,’ William assured her with a politician’s smile.
‘For your client, perhaps,’ retorted Frankie, shaking her head. ‘I still think mine might prefer to let the courts decide what constitutes fair.’
To his credit, William’s smile didn’t slip by even a millimetre. ‘Let’s talk soon.’
Izzy and Pete were already at the door, clearly anxious to be out of there. That was something we definitely had in common. Pete’s hand was on the door handle, when Izzy leant up and whispered something in his ear. He gave a curt nod and reluctantly released her hand from his. My palms were damp and sweaty with nerves as she took a step towards me. I was wondering how obvious it would look if I wiped them on my dress as I got to my feet. But shaking hands wasn’t what was on her mind. Despite the incident in the Ladies’, and her generosity with Noah’s photograph, we were still a million miles away from cordial handshakes.
‘I’m a good mother,’ she said with quiet confidence, her eyes not releasing mine long enough for me to signal a plea for help to my legal team. ‘Noah has everything a little boy needs. He’s got two parents who love him more than anything else in the world and a safe and secure life. He’s a happy little boy with no worries. Please don’t do anything to change that. Don’t drag him into a confusing nightmare he’s too young to understand. If you really love him – and I can tell from how you act that you do – then love him enough to walk away and leave his life intact. Please.’
It was a powerful exit line, and it stunned me so much I never even noticed when she and Pete slipped from the room, closely followed by Frankie Burrows.
‘Should I make a note of that?’ queried Keeley, her hands on the laptop, which she’d already shut down at the end of the meeting.
‘No. The meeting was already concluded. Those comments were off the record and don’t need to be minuted,’ ruled Edward decisively. I agreed with him; no need to record them when they were already etched into my heart as though with a chisel.
*
The inside of Liam’s car smelled of expensive leather upholstery and the subtle but distinctive aftershave he wore. My nose was deciphering the individual aromas, a peculiar habit of mine, but my head was still stuck in the unguarded comments my legal team had made following Izzy’s impassioned speech and departure.
‘From the way she spoke, you’d never know that she and her husband haven’t lived together for the last nine months, would you?’ remarked William. It was an indiscreet slip, an indication that he was rattled and perhaps not quite as confident about our chances of success as he claimed to be.
‘A situation I’m sure their counsel will have addressed by the time we get to court,’ Edward replied, rapier fast. For the first time I glimpsed the razor-sharp family lawyer my father had recommended, rather than his jovial, white-bearded alter ego.
My eyes darted between the two lawyers. ‘Are Izzy and Pete divorced?’ Later I would berate myself for hoping that if they were, it might help to level the playing field a little, should the case go before the courts.
‘No. Not yet. But they were separated, which is something we may need to highlight should things go that way.’
*
‘Izzy and Pete seemed very close for a couple going through marriage difficulties,’ I observed as Liam pulled out into the busy stream of early afternoon traffic. I turned slightly in my seat to look at him. ‘Do you think they were putting on an act? Trying to create an illusion of a united front to help strengthen their case?’
Liam overtook a badly parked van, and it was impossible to tell if the twin frown lines between his eyes were caused by that, or by my question. ‘I think that’s a big assumption to make, that no one can answer for sure. And I wouldn’t want to sit in judgement on them, even if this is the thing that’s brought them back together again. Adversity can do that.’
I sat back in my seat and stared out through the windscreen with unseeing eyes. Liam’s words were exactly the same as those I felt sure Tim would have given. I’d never noticed even the smallest of similarities before between the two men, so it was all the more unsettling to realise that they thought along very similar lines.
‘Were you and Anna happily married?’ My brain was leaping around all over the place, like an agitated grasshopper, but Liam seemed to have no trouble keeping up. ‘Very,’ he declared emphatically, his lips curving gently at the memory. ‘How about you and Tim?’ he asked, batting the question back to me.
‘Then we’re the lucky ones.’
It seemed like a bizarre assertion, seeing as we were both living our lives without the person we loved most in the world, but strangely I agreed with him.
‘Yes. We definitely are.’
For a while the only sound in the car was the purr of the engine and the echoes of past memories, which we were both lost in. So it was a little startling when Liam finally shattered the silence with the most prosaic of comments.
‘I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely starving. Do you feel like grabbing a bite to eat somewhere, or do you need to get back to the shop?’
‘No. It’s half-day closing today,’ I said, realising with surprise that I was equally ravenous. I hadn’t been able to eat anything since the previous night, when I’d done nothing more than half-heartedly pick at a frozen ready meal, as though excavating it with my fork.
‘I am hungry,’ I admitted, ‘but I’m not sure I’m up to coping with a crowded restaurant or pub right now. I’m sorry. I guess this morning’s meeting has left me a little shell-shocked.’
Liam’s long fingers tapped thoughtfully against the steering wheel as though following a distant rhythm. It was something Tim used to do all the time when he drove. Stop it! I told myself furiously. In the years since his death, I’d been scrupulously careful about where and when I allowed my memories of Tim to run free. But recently they’d been finding cracks in the wall I’d built, and kept slipping through them when I least expected it. Like now.
‘Would you feel comfortable coming back to my place? I make a pretty mean omelette, or so I’ve been told.’