‘Rob, grab me some water.’
The young man comes down from the ladder and goes through to the kitchen. He returns with a cloudy-looking liquid. Have they guessed who she is? Are they trying to poison her?
‘You’re not married, are you?’ Maddy asks.
For a fleeting moment Alison frowns. ‘Doesn’t matter these days, does it?’ She laughs, turning to Rob next to her. He shakes his head.
‘Unless he’s already married, of course.’
Alison’s mouth falls open. ‘Well no, I’d never do that.’
‘Wouldn’t you? How do you know?’
‘Why would you say that?’
‘Because, you can’t trust any of them.’
‘I think you ought to go.’ Rob comes around to the front of the counter.
‘Hang on, are you the woman who knocked at my door that time?’ Alison says, clutching the carrier bag.
Maddy stands up and slams the glass down on the counter. ‘Tell me where my husband is?’ Maddy shouts at her.
‘I told you before, I don’t know him.’
‘You’re lying, what have you done with him – he’s my husband!’
‘Get her out of here,’ Alison calls to Rob, but before he can do anything Maddy is marching towards the door. She skims past the racks of clothes, knocking a grey dress to the ground. Her mother smiles out from a mirror like the Cheshire cat.
On the drive home, Maddy imagines Max pulling into the drive at Lawn End, wheeling the dustbin back into place, putting his key in the front door. He’ll call out hello, give Alison a kiss, ask Jamie what he’d been doing at school that day. When Max was with Alison, she didn’t exist.
Chapter Forty-Three
Max: April 2017
Max stood at the door of Ali’s maisonette, his finger hovering over the buzzer. He would offer to pay her a lump sum for back payments of maintenance and come and see the boy as often as he could, but that was where it had to end.
He squinted at the feathery rain. A pair of Spiderman wellies stood outside. He drew on his cigarette, but it was too damp, so he chucked it on the pavement and pressed the buzzer.
Ali looked hot in a tight blue dress and ankle boots. Jamie was lingering in the background. She invited Max in and took his jacket. The smell of roast chicken wafted out of the kitchen. He’d told Maddy he was out with some mates, a few games of pool and lunch at the pub, so he hadn’t dressed up, not wanting her to question him, but now he felt scruffy in his old jeans, like he couldn’t be bothered.
Ali ushered him into the tiny sitting room.
‘Jamie, there you are, come and say hello.’
The boy stood at the sitting room door, his hair glowed golden in the light.
‘Hello.’ Max had never been so nervous.
‘Does your hand hurt?’ Jamie asked.
‘It’s much better, thanks.’ Max swallowed hard.
Ali put her arm around Jamie’s shoulders.
‘Remember what I was telling you about me and Adam?’ she said. ‘Well, he’s got something important to tell you.’
Max took a deep breath.
‘Your mum and I couldn’t be together when you were born, but I’m going to make up for it. I hope you’re all right with me being your dad.’
Jamie’s lips trembled. Max put his hand out to him, and Jamie touched his fingertips.
‘I’d like to be around a lot more, if you want me to?’
Jamie nodded and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. ‘What will happen to Tony?’
‘He’ll probably go down for what he did to Adam,’ Ali said.
‘But he promised to buy me a PlayStation.’
‘I’m sure we can sort one out for you.’ Max winked at Ali. She nodded and smiled.
‘As long as you behave yourself. You can start by helping me with dinner.’ She ruffled Jamie’s hair and he followed her into the kitchen.
Max wandered around the living room. Framed photos of Jamie as a baby and growing up were on every wall. He wiped his forehead. Emily wasn’t his firstborn anymore. Did this mean that every first with her didn’t count? Were all those special moments tarnished because they’d already happened with his first child? Except he hadn’t been there to witness them and that didn’t sit right with him. It was a kick in the gut that he’d missed out on so much. Maybe it would be easier to walk away after all. None of this was fair on Maddy let alone Emily and Chloe. He could slip out of the door unnoticed, maybe move abroad with Maddy and the girls. Thanks to Ali’s dear old dad, she’d never be able to trace him, not with his new name and the life she knew nothing about. But would he really be able to give up on his own son? Jamie. He couldn’t deny he was pleased he had a son, and Jamie was a good kid, kind and thoughtful. He’d already had a hard start in life, a bit like his own. How could he walk away now, like his own parents did to him?
‘He seems fine,’ Ali whispered, standing at the door.
‘What did you tell him before?’
‘That you had to go away.’
‘Poor kid.’ But one day he’d tell Jamie the truth, that his grandfather lied to him, told him he’d been aborted because no one was allowed to date the boss’s daughter, let alone fall in love with her and get her pregnant. How he wished the old man was still alive so he could smash his face in for making him leave.
‘I need to keep an eye on the dinner. Come and have a beer?’
He followed her into the kitchen. She opened a bottle and handed it to him. Jamie laid the table, then took his ball out to the small patio garden.
‘It’s a shock for him to find out you’re his dad,’ she said taking a lid off a pan, releasing a slinking ribbon of steam like a genie. She was crying and he didn’t know what to say. He put his arm around her, and she turned into his chest.
‘You will keep coming to see him, won’t you?’ she said. ‘I mean, you will stick to it?’
‘Of course I will. It just kills me that I didn’t know about him sooner.’ He had to make this work somehow without hurting Maddy. There was no way he would do what his own parents did and deliberately bugger off.
She turned to the cooker and stirred the gravy. Max wandered back into the living room with his beer. Jamie smiled broadly at him from the tiny garden.
‘Shall we have a kickabout then?’ Max finished his beer. The boy’s face brightened.
‘What team do you support?’
‘Peterborough, I guess,’ Jamie said. A miniature goal stood at one end of the patio. Hardly enough space for a growing boy to run around.
‘I support Arsenal. I could take you to a home game if you like. Do you think your mum will let you?’
Jamie nodded, grinning.
‘Let’s see how many you can get past me,’ Max said.
Jamie concentrated hard before he kicked the ball. It shot straight past Max into the back of the net.
‘What? Where did that come from?’ Max raised his hands in disbelief. ‘You got golden boots or something?’
Jamie’s smile spread and lit up his face. He cracked a few more shots at goal and Max only saved one of them. Ali stood watching at the patio door.
‘Did you see that?’ Max said. ‘The boy’s got talent, I’m telling you.’
Jamie blushed.
‘I always knew it. Wanted to kick a ball about as soon as he could walk.’ Ali smiled. ‘Couldn’t he go to one of those academies?’
‘If he wants to and if they think he’s good enough.’ But he would never become a world class player in a garden the size of a postage stamp.
After dinner, Jamie helped Ali clear the table then he went to his room to play. He was a quiet, gentle child and deserved every privilege his girls had.
‘What are your arrangements here, rent-wise?’ Max asked, drinking another beer, pacing up and down the room. His brain was spinning into overdrive.
‘We’ve been here about two years, but we need to think about moving soon because the landlord is putting the rent up next year.’
‘I’m only just getting by now. You can see how pokey this is, but I can’t stretch to anything more on my wage.’
Max finished his second beer. He wanted his son to have a better life than this.
‘Before Tony there was Ian,’ she said. ‘He lived with us for the best part of a year. It was easier then with both wages coming in. Jamie was a toddler and got really attached to him, even started to call him daddy. I thought he was going to stay for good, but Jaz saw him out with another woman, so I ended it. I’ve been struggling ever since.’
‘So, there’s no one else on the scene?’
‘No, I’d tell you if there was.’ She sat on the sofa.
‘I promise I’ll do what I can to help. I want to be a big part of Jamie’s life.’
‘You’re away a lot with your job though, aren’t you?’
‘Yeah but I’ll visit as often as I can.’
‘Will you though?’
‘I said I would, didn’t I?’ The beer had gone to his head.
‘You could do better than that.’ She grabbed his hand and playfully pulled him down next to her, kissing him passionately. He couldn’t help kissing her back. He’d resisted her for so long. All his senses sprung to life and the years fell away instantly. They were young again, deeply in love. In that moment, no one else existed. The smell of her, the taste, the feel of her soft hair and skin was all he could focus on. And just like before, everything Ali said or did intoxicated him. There was no way he could walk out of her life again, nor Jamie’s.
‘Why not move in with us?’
‘I don’t know, Ali, this is all pretty sudden.’
‘Is it? But he’s your son, the child you always wanted, remember? You said yourself you don’t have any other commitments.’
They sat in silence. Max tried to avoid her gaze.
‘Unless it’s me you’re not sure about? I thought you said you felt the old spark still.’
‘My god I do… it’s just that…’ He moved towards her and pushed a fallen length of golden hair behind her ear. He had to tell her about his family, put an end to this fantasy. ‘You wouldn’t like me being away all the time, I know you.’
‘I’ll get used to it.’
‘Could Jamie though? I couldn’t guarantee exactly when I’d be here. He’d be disappointed all the time.’ He pictured her face if he told her about Maddy and the girls. She wouldn’t let him see Jamie again, just when he was getting to know him. ‘It would drive you insane.’
‘Not if I knew you were coming back to us, to our home.’ She buried her head in his chest. ‘Isn’t this what we always talked about? What we dreamt of all those years ago?’
He buried his face in her silky hair, breathing in the warm aroma of perfume. She was right, it had been their dream, but they were kids then and life wasn’t straightforward. He moved her hair aside and kissed her neck. He couldn’t help himself wanting her. There had to be a way to make this work so he could see all his children and not hurt Maddy or Alison.
‘We couldn’t stay here, it’s too small. We’d have to find somewhere bigger.’ Could he really live in two places? What if they moved to one of the new builds he’d been working on? Then he could see Jamie whenever he liked, every day, every week, fit it around living with Maddy and the girls. They were used to him being away; it wouldn’t need to affect them. He’d be able to take Jamie to football matches, the park, all sorts. But he’d have to find a deposit. Shouldn’t be too tricky getting a mortgage as Maddy’s house was all paid for when her dad died. Maybe it was possible to make this work without anyone getting hurt.
Alison pulled a photo album out of a cupboard and spread it across both their laps. She flicked through photos of Jamie as a baby. Max thought about the day Emily was born, how he’d felt holding her, the elation at her being his firstborn. But now that was wrong. History had been rewritten.
‘And this is Jamie at eleven months…’ Ali’s voice drifted in and out. He and Maddy had taken an almost identical set of photos of their family. Each a precious and unique moment. Ali pulled on his sleeve.
‘Are you okay? You look tired.’
The album was closed. Had he dozed off for a second or two?
‘I need some air.’ He let himself out onto the patio and leaned over the side of the brick barbeque as the ground swam in front of his eyes.
Chapter Forty-Four
Alison: November 2019
By the time Alison reaches work, the Saturday ladies are in. One is on the till and the other is tidying up a rack of books. Rob is at the back, dragging in black bags full of clothes and toys people have left by the service door. A plastic sword trails out of one behind him.
In the sorting room, piles of donations spill out of stacked boxes on every surface. Alison steps over a cowboy hat that has slipped off a pile of coats. A mustiness lingers in the air no matter how long they leave the back door open or spray air-fresheners; it never seems to go. They deal with the remnants of people’s lives, things no longer wanted, thrown or neatly folded into bin liners, not always washed or wiped. Occasionally she takes home a bundle to wash. Grey water twists and turns the garments in the washing machine, rinsing out people’s last remains.
Rob pulls up a chair for her. She sits down, coat touching the floor, her suede handbag curls into her lap like a sleeping cat.
‘He’s left me, I’m sure of it,’ she says, caressing her bump.
‘What’s brought this on?’
‘The row we had the morning he left has been playing on my mind.’ She shrugs off her coat and steps through to the kitchen to hang it on the back of the door. ‘And that woman that came in here. Do you think she was right?’
‘Hey, don’t let that crazy bat get to you. You’ve been doing so well up till now.’
It bothers her to think that her belongings might become muddled with items from the shop. It could easily happen, and she wouldn’t necessarily know about it until it was too late. She’s always found it difficult to part with things. Their loft is jammed full of boxes from her past. Adam owns almost nothing. When he moved in, he had a small bag full of clothes, a pair of trainers, but not much else.
She fills the kettle. Maybe it was too soon for him to settle down. She’s been too demanding. One child should be enough. Some people can’t have any. Why did she want more? Greedy, always wants more. Her father’s voice booms in her head. She sees her tiny hand scoop up jellybeans from a cut-glass bowl, him crushing her wrist until she dropped them. For days afterwards, her hand was useless, like a grabber machine at the seaside unable to grasp the teddy.
Rob leans across the counter. ‘Have you actually spoken to him? I mean he’s always staying away without contacting you.’
She hates that he’s so pleased. He passes her the milk. She takes the lid off and sniffs. The sourness hits the back of her throat and almost makes her retch. She tips it down the sink, its whiteness swirling, leaving an opaque film over the tea stains. The fridge door sticks as she pulls it open. It’s empty except for Rob’s lunchtime can of Coke. She is sure they had more milk.
‘I’ll go and get some,’ he says. ‘I need to call in at the bookies.’
She tries to smile. ‘It’s okay, I’ll have it without.’
‘In that case, I’ll go and sort the shoes out before my break.’ He checks his watch.
She cuts open one of the bin bags he brought in. It’s mostly kids’ toys with a faint whiff of vomit. Rob will wash them later. She opens the next bag and it’s full of unopened rolls of neon wallpaper. Someone had a change of heart. They can probably go straight out on the shelves. Some arty type will buy them. The third bag is bulging and heavy. Must be full of clothes. She rips it open and pulls out a neatly folded pile of jeans followed by jumpers. The top one is a cute polar bear Christmas jumper with glitter on white peaks of snow. It�
��s beautiful. She used to have one just like it. It never stops surprising her what people throw out. Underneath is another festive knit, a thinner material, long sleeves, more a tunic. On the front, there’s a pattern in silver and gold snowflakes, making up the shape of a wreath. She’s recently bought one just like this in the Black Friday sales; in fact, this one still has the tag on it. Shame it’s never been worn. The jeans seem familiar. Someone has very similar taste to her. She holds up a pair, then another. Strange. She picks up the oldest pair and sticks her hand in the back pocket. There’s a small hole in it, just like in her own pair at home. She tips out the whole bag onto the table. All the clothes are hers. Is this a joke? She’s not donated anything from home for ages, so it’s definitely not her, she’s not going mad. How can this have happened? It has to be Adam, when he’s been in the house while she’s out. How dare he chuck out her clothes then dump them where she works! He must have known she’d find them.
On the shop floor, she finds Rob crouched in a corner, pairing up shoes. There’s a red pair of sandals she’s trying to resist.
‘Do you know who left those bags at the back door, because I’ve just found one full of my own clothes.’
‘Really?’ Rob arches an eyebrow.
‘Do you think Adam is trying to get rid of me?’
‘Ali, you know what I think about it.’ He sits back on his heels.
‘Why else would he do something like this?’
‘Look at the situation he’s left you in – you’re about to have his baby. You’ve got to ask yourself, what kind of bloke would do that?’
She sighs.
‘Why don’t I pop over tonight, and we can talk?’
She shakes her head and picks up the red sandal, slipping her hand inside it. She mustn’t encourage him.
‘You deserve better.’ His mouth relaxes into a warm smile.
She kicks the air with the sandal.
‘I wish you wouldn’t put up with him.’ He touches her arm. A power surge shoots through her. She drops the shoe on the floor and locks her hands together. He turns his back on her, adjusting his crotch.
Every Little Secret Page 17