by Suzy K Quinn
‘It’s only until March.’
‘I know, I know. And then you’ll have a big white wedding and live happily ever after.’
‘Hope so.’ An uneasy feeling works its way up my spine as I think about that note in the garden last night.
‘Are you okay?’ Jen cocks her head. ‘You just shivered.’
‘I’m probably just cold.’
‘Then go upstairs and put some clothes on, for god’s sake.’ Jen smiles at me. ‘It’s winter. You didn’t need to come charging downstairs like a mad woman. Sammy’s fine with me. Honest.’
‘I know he is.’ I kiss Sammy’s head. ‘He loves you almost as much as I do.’
‘Oh, you.’ Jen play slaps my arm.
‘How’d you get time off work?’ I ask. ‘Are you sure your company are okay with you leaving them in the lurch like this?’
‘Oh, they’re fine,’ says Jen. ‘Absolutely fine.’
‘But they’re usually so strict.’
‘I know. But I don’t pay any attention right now. You know why?’
‘Why?’
‘Because as of yesterday, I don’t work for them any more.’
My eyes widen. ‘You don’t?’ A crazy thought enters my head. ‘Jen, you didn’t quit to come help me out did you?’
‘No. I mean, you know I’d do anything for you, but as it happens, this was just the right time to leave.’
‘Is everything okay?’ I ask. ‘You didn’t get sacked, did you?’ I know Jen. She’s not afraid to speak her mind and sometimes it gets her into trouble.
‘No.’ Jen laughs. ‘I’m setting up my own business. You know. The one I’ve been talking about since I left school. My own PR firm.’
‘Wow. That’s amazing. But shouldn’t you be in front of a computer somewhere, looking for clients or something?’
‘I’ve got a bit of breathing space, actually. On account of the fact I’ve already got an amazing client.’
‘Wow! Already? Who is it? Anyone I’ve heard of?’
‘Oh, I think you’ve heard of him. His name is Marc Blackwell.’
50
I stare at Jen. ‘Marc Blackwell is your first PR client?’
‘Yep. I’m going to do an amazing job for him. And for you. You’re part of his business, in case you didn’t know. Damage limitation. I have to protect your reputation at all times.’
I laugh. ‘Wow. That’s weird. But ... I guess good weird. I mean, are you happy about it?’
‘I’m bloody ecstatic. My first client, a Hollywood star. It’s amazing. Thank you so much Soph, for introducing me to him. I can’t wait to start work.’
‘Oh, I don’t think I did all that much,’ I say. ‘I mean, he wouldn’t have hired you unless he thought you were good. And we both know you’re more than just good.’
‘Flattery, flattery.’
‘But if Marc’s your client, shouldn’t you be working for him right now?’
‘Well, like I said, I have a bit of breathing space. On account of the fact he asked me to come over and help you for a few weeks. And he’s paying me a retainer while I’m here. Nice guy, isn’t he?’
‘A little too nice,’ I say. ‘I don’t want anyone put out for me. You or him, or anyone. But … it’s good to have you here.’
‘I know. We’ll have fun, won’t we?’
‘We always do.’
*****
Later that afternoon, I get another surprise. Marc has arranged for Denise to come over and give me singing lessons at the cottage.
When she arrives, the house is sparkling clean thanks to Rodney. Sammy is sleeping soundly upstairs and Jen is flicking through Heat magazine. Rodney is in the garden, scrubbing the patio with bleach. Dad is upstairs making a pile of old clothes for the charity shop.
‘Denise.’ I throw my arms around her. ‘Good to see you.’
‘Can’t let my favourite pupil get behind on her studies.’ Denise ambles into the cottage and puts her huge handbag on the floor by piles of muddy trainers and wellies.
‘Oh, I’m sure you have lots of favourite pupils,’ I say, leading her into the lounge area.
‘True. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love them all very, very much.’
‘Come on through.’
In the lounge, Jen’s head snaps up. ‘Hi Denise. How are you doing?’
‘Fine, fine. And you?’
‘Great.’
I hear a thumping sound as someone runs down the stairs. It’s Dad, of course. No one else can make a noise like that just by moving around. He comes spilling into the lounge area, looking a little out of breath.
His face lights up when he sees Denise. ‘I thought I heard your voice.’
Denise smiles back at him. ‘Good to see you Mike.’
‘Tea?’ Dad asks.
‘Lovely,’ says Denise.
‘I can make it,’ I say, spying the now tidy kitchen. If I let Dad loose in there, there’ll be milk all over the counter and sugar on the floor.
‘No, I’ll make it,’ says Rodney, coming in from the garden with yellow rubber gloves on and a bucket of black water hanging from his fingers. ‘You, Sophia Rose, are supposed to be taking it easy today.’
‘I slept in until nine,’ I counter.
‘It should have been until noon,’ says Rodney. ‘And don’t think I didn’t catch you trying to tidy the kitchen today.’
‘I was just doing the cupboards—’
Rodney wags a finger at me. ‘No more! That’s my department. Now you sit down and I’ll bring in the tea.’
51
Before the lesson starts, Denise and I have a catch up about Ivy College. Tom and Tanya are looking very much in love these days, apparently. Which makes me smile a lot. I feel bad, though, about not having seen them since before Christmas.
Wendy is on a much deserved holiday, so the admin side of college life is a bit of a mess.
Marc still teaches classes, and the students are all learning plenty. Hearing that makes me pine, not only for Marc, but for his lessons. I learned so much from him in such a short space of time. When he taught me for a week, after the Giles Getty incident, I felt like I really grew.
After a general catch up, Denise hits me with the bombshell.
‘I’m sure you’re aware that Cecile was asked to leave the college,’ Denise says, stirring sugar into her tea.
‘I was aware.’
‘Her friend Ryan isn’t very happy about it. But he hasn’t had the courage to complain. He just walks around the place with a scowl on his face.’
‘I imagine leaving the college must have been devastating for her,’ I say.
‘Indeed. The plan was to let her get the help she needed, and then she could come back when she was well again. But … oh the poor girl. Her family won’t have anything to do with her now, what with her leaving the college and being pregnant. So … she’s taken a turn for the worse. And from what I hear, she isn’t getting any help at all.’
I chew a thumb nail. ‘That’s … bad news,’ I say. ‘To be pregnant and all alone. It must be terrible.’
‘Yes. It must be. But she was offered help. She didn’t take it. She’s chosen to go in another direction.’
‘Another direction?’
Denise nods. ‘She’s been seen around certain underground clubs.’
‘Oh. I heard that too,’ I say, chewing so hard that a strip of fingernail comes free.
‘From Marc?’ asks Denise, raising an eyebrow.
‘Yes.’
‘He’s keeping an eye on her. We all are. But I’m sure everything will work out just fine.’
‘Yes,’ I say, uncertainly.
‘Shall we get on with the lesson?’
*****
It feels weird singing at full volume in my dad’s cottage, especially since I know Dad, Jen, Sammy and Rodney are around the place. But once I get over the embarrassment, Denise and I have a great lesson.
By the time we’ve finished, I’m reaching notes I’ve never
reached before and my voice sounds clearer than ever.
Rodney brings us an afternoon tea of freshly baked scones, homemade jam and farmyard butter when the lesson is over, and Jen, Dad, Denise and I sit in the lounge, feeding Sammy spoons of jam, eating scones and drinking loose leaf tea.
It doesn’t take long before Dad starts chatting to Denise about 1960s music, and soon they’re both lost in a world of psychedelic tunes and childhood memories, while the rest of us play with Sammy.
Seeing my Dad talking to Denise, I realise it’s the first time I’ve seen him properly smile since Christmas morning The two of them are really making each other laugh.
When we finish our scones, Dad asks Denise if she’d like to stay for the afternoon and a spot of dinner later, and Denise agrees.
‘Don’t you have classes to teach at the college?’ I ask.
‘Not this afternoon,’ says Denise. ‘You don’t mind me staying, do you Sophia? You can say if you do. I’ll understand. I know I came for Christmas, but a weekday social visit from your teacher might be a step too far.’
Jen gives a snort of laughter. ‘She’s done much more than that with her teacher.’
‘Jen!’
‘Sorry. Easy line.’
‘I don’t see you as a teacher anyway,’ I tell Denise. ‘You’re a friend.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ says Denise. ‘Because you’re a friend too.’
‘I’m glad,’ I say. Then I have an idea. ‘Dad, if Denise is staying for the rest of the afternoon and Jen is watching Sammy, how would you feel if I went to visit Marc’s sister before my show? She’s back in hospital now and she must be pretty lonely.’
I don’t add that with Denise here, I’m no longer needed to keep Dad company.
Dad frowns a little. ‘Sophia, the whole point of not seeing Marc is so you can do your own thing. Be your own person. Get some distance.’
‘It’s not Annabel’s fault that you’ve put me in this position,’ I say. ‘Don’t keep her from having visitors, just because you’re not sure about Marc.’
Dad sighs. ‘Point taken. Okay. Fine.’
‘I’ll be back in time to cook dinner.’
‘Oh no you won’t.’ Rodney picks up cups and saucers and loads them onto a tray. ‘Cooking is my department right now. Marc’s orders. You’re to take it easy, and focus on the show.’
‘For once, Marc and I agree on something,’ says Dad.
52
The hospital isn’t at all what I expect. For a start, it doesn’t look like a hospital. It’s more like a stately home with red brick walls, big chimney stacks and acres of green lawn and fir trees all around.
Annabel is staying in West London, not far from where Marc took me when Ryan drugged my drink. It takes me a full five minutes to walk up the long stone path to the grand pillared entrance of the hospital.
I push through a heavy black door into a light, airy reception area with thick carpet, and smell lemon fragrance and camomile tea.
Waiting on a beige-leather sofa by the reception desk is Annabel.
‘Sophia.’ She leaps up and throws her arms around me in a bony hug. ‘I’m so, so glad you came. It’s … I’ve had a bad day today.’
‘Then I’m extra glad I came,’ I say. ‘I brought you scones. Tell me about your bad day.’
I hand her a wicker basket, covered with a red checked cloth.
‘Did you make these?’ says Annabel, pulling back the cloth. ‘They smell delicious.’
‘I should have,’ I say. ‘But no. Rodney did. Next time I’ll bake you something myself.’
‘Don’t be silly. Having you here is more than enough. You don’t need to bring anything other than yourself. It’s such a relief that I can have visitors now. Before Christmas, I was so, so lonely.’
‘You’re looking really well,’ I say. ‘I’m sorry to hear today hasn’t been great.’
Annabel nods and puts the scone basket down on a coffee table. ‘Shall we go for a walk?’
*****
As Annabel and I stroll through the green grounds, it’s great to smell the soil and see the bare branches overhead. Sometimes, when I’m at the theatre, I feel like concrete is caving in on me. It’s nice to know there are parts of London, aside from Ivy College, that are green and natural.
We walk for a while in silence. Then Annabel tells me why she’s had a bad day.
‘This morning, I found out that getting my son back isn’t as straightforward as I thought,’ she says. ‘There are lots of assessments. Paperwork. Things I have to prove that I just can’t prove. That I’ll provide a stable home. That there’ll be friends around to support me. That I can earn an income. I … everything just feels impossible right now.’
Her bony face sags and I notice how much older she looks now we’re in the daylight. I slide an arm through hers.
‘I can help you,’ I say. ‘I had to fill out lots of those sorts of forms for Dad when I was younger. Some of the neighbours thought he wasn’t a fit parent. So we had people coming to check on us all the time.’
‘I’m surprised to hear you had those sorts of troubles,’ says Annabel.
‘We’re a close family,’ I say. ‘But we’ve had hard times, too. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Dad had just lost his wife when all that stuff happened. He was grieving. But anyway, enough about me. Marc and I will help you get everything you need to get your son back.’
‘But Marc has already done so much for me. And you have too. The whole point of getting well is so I can stand on my own two feet. I need to stop taking from people and start living.’
‘Annabel. You’re beating a major drug addition. Now is exactly the time you need help from other people. Get well first, then you can start giving to others.’
‘I don’t know, Sophia. Everything just feels a little hopeless right now. I don’t deserve Daniel. That little boy needs a better mum than me.’
I shake my head. ‘Annabel, no little boy should grow up in care. You’re a good person. You’ve just had a tough life, that’s all.’ I slide my arm free from hers and put my hands firmly on her shoulders. ‘If you can beat heroin then you can do anything – including being a good mother. And Marc and I will help you every step of the way.’
53
I visit Annabel a few more times during the week, and she has good days and bad days. When I see the forms she has to fill in, I get more and more desperate to talk to Marc. I’ve seen those forms before, and I know it’s really important that Annabel has her own place if she’s going to get her son back. So I need to ask Marc if he can help.
When Friday comes around, I spend most of the day doing internet research at the cottage. I need to know all the laws and regulations about adoption and custody, so I can tell Marc exactly what Annabel needs. It’s important that I don’t leave out any detail. We have to get everything right if Annabel stands a chance of getting her son back.
By evening time, I’ve got together a long list for Marc and I’m feeling really positive about Annabel’s future.
Rodney cooks us all a delicious lasagne for dinner, and after we’ve eaten I soak in a hot bath while Sammy sleeps. Jen has already driven back to her apartment and Dad is at work, so the house is nice and quiet – except for the sounds of Rodney tidying the kitchen.
I’m just towelling myself dry when I hear the doorbell downstairs.
‘I’ll get it,’ Rodney calls.
I hear the clump of heavy feet and Leo’s voice in our hallway.
‘Just coming,’ I call out, running out of the bathroom in my towel, and heading to the guest bedroom.
Typical Leo – he’s standing at the bottom of the staircase as I run past, so he gets a full-length view of me bound up in a white towel, my hair soaking wet.
‘Nice outfit,’ he calls up. ‘I thought you might like some company on the way to the show again.’
‘Wait in the lounge. I’ll be right down.’
After I’ve dressed in leggings, Ugg boots and a huge p
ink sweater, I head downstairs, still towelling my hair.
Leo is lounging on the sofa wearing ripped jeans and a sweatshirt with a picture of a pastel sunset on it.
‘Ah, my favourite co-star. All dressed up and ready to go,’ says Leo. ‘I thought I’d pick you up tonight. You don’t mind, do you?’
‘No,’ I say, truthfully. ‘It’ll be nice to have the company in the limo.’
‘Hey, what are those yellow flowers in your front garden called? They’re awesome.’
‘Daffodils,’ I say. ‘They always come up early around here. I have no idea why.’
‘Daff-o-dils,’ says Leo. ‘I should write that down. I want to tell my mom about them. She loves yellow flowers.’
‘They’re really easy to grow,’ I say. ‘Just put the bulbs in the ground and that’s it. They come up every year. If you like the front garden, you should see the back. It’s covered in them right now.’
‘Wow. Can I see?’
‘Sure.’
Leo follows me outside, and I point out the bright daffodils sprouting from every flowerbed. They make a blanket of yellow petals around the lawn.
‘Pretty,’ says Leo.
‘Aren’t they?’
‘You know, I’m sure gonna miss you. When the show finishes.’
‘We’ve got ages before the show finishes,’ I protest. ‘We’re only half way through the run.’
‘I guess maybe time is going slower for you than it is for me,’ says Leo, throwing me a wonky grin. ‘But you’re having fun, right? At least some of the time?’
I smile. ‘Yes. It’s fun. Working with you is fun. And performing is fun too. I just wish I didn’t miss Marc so much.’
‘Still miss him, huh?’ says Leo.
I nod. ‘More than ever.’
‘Shame. But if you ever get lonely in the night, you know where I am.’
I laugh.
‘Hey, laugh all you like, but if it wasn’t for Marc Blackwell you might just have given me a shot by now. We could be living happily ever after.’
‘You’re not my type. And you’re only interested in me because you can’t have me.’