Perfect Daughter

by Amanda Prowse

  ‘I’m guessing too much!’ He laughed. ‘Let’s get her sorted and I’ll meet you under the duvet in ten minutes.’

  Jacks nodded. She was relaxed and content, emotions that had been absent of late, and it felt good. She got a flash of guilt, remembering her secret dreams. She didn’t need adventure, didn’t need glass decks and champagne on tap; everything she needed was right there under that cramped little roof. She took a sip from her glass of Baileys – her fourth of the evening, but who was counting? It was Christmas after all.

  16

  Nineteen Years Earlier

  Jacks hesitated on the wide front step, hating that she felt unworthy to be a guest in such a grand house. And what if, after all the years of wondering what it might be like to live somewhere like that, she was disappointed?

  She wasn’t.

  ‘Come in. Shut the door!’ Sven beckoned her into the vast square hallway.

  She looked down at the intricately designed floral pattern of blue, brown and green tiles. ‘This floor is beautiful.’

  ‘It’s original Edwardian, apparently.’

  Staring up at the high, vaulted ceiling, she noted the blue glass chandelier and then the wide staircase and its mini landings, off which she could see doors that led to more rooms than one family could ever need. ‘The whole house is beautiful!’ The decor was minimalist. No clutter, no fringing, no chintz. Everything was plain and clean looking.

  ‘Well, it’s not ours, not really. It’s only a rental, but it’s our stuff in it.’ Sven shrugged and opened the kitchen door. ‘You can leave your coat and bag on the floor. Unless you want to do homework?’

  She smiled as she shrugged off her coat. ‘The International Monetary Fund? Think I’ll pass.’

  Sven grinned at her as she relaxed and began to enjoy herself.

  Everything was in good order: pristine paintwork, swept corners, shiny surfaces and smear-free glass. Large modern paintings, the kind her own mum and dad would mock, took pride of place on the high walls. It was stunning.

  The kitchen at the rear of the house was no less impressive. It was the biggest she had ever been in, with white units, shiny white countertops and an enormous double-fronted fridge, an American fridge. She pictured her parents’ cramped kitchen, harshly lit and stuffed with blackened saucepans that hung from a rack, jars full of beans, pulses and pasta sitting on dusty shelves and a stack of newspapers, the phonebook and several aged breadboards taking up valuable workspace. That room would fit into this one three times.

  A noticeboard was hung with notes and memos written in Swedish. She studied the letters, forming words she couldn’t pronounce, the odd O and A with little dots above them. She ran her fingers over the immaculate double sink and tried to imagine standing in front of the sparkling range, cooking a meal and serving it to her family gathered at the long rectangular table. Tall ladder-backed chairs of the palest blue, each with a small navy-and-white gingham ribbon tied to its frame, encircled the table, in the middle of which sat a wicker bowl full of lemons. The room looked like something out of the design pages in her Marie Claire.

  ‘Is this where your mum makes her meatballs and pickles?’

  ‘And heats up pizza!’ He smiled.

  ‘I can’t imagine living anywhere with this much space.’ She stretched out her arms and threw her head back. ‘I want to live in a house with space, room to breathe, to move! That’s my dream.’

  ‘We’ll go out to Montana and buy a ranch, with hundreds of thousands of acres that you can roam all day. We’ll have so much space, you won’t be able to see the boundary, whichever way you look. And we’ll sit on our deck at night and listen to the insects and animals, watch fireflies and rock back and forth on our swing-seat. And we’ll have dogs, definitely.’

  ‘That sounds nice.’ She looked up as Sven walked towards her.

  ‘It will be nice. We’ll get old and do crosswords together and take walks and grow our own vegetables and keep horses!’

  ‘Will we have children?’ She hardly dared ask, but with all that space and a big house…

  ‘No.’ His answer was definite. ‘They would only distract us. And trust me, I was one once – they’re not that appealing.’ He smirked.

  Jacks swallowed the flicker of disappointment, but he was probably right, this boy who had seen life and experienced things she could only dream of and whose parents were far from provincial. What did she know?

  He walked over to the window, in front of which stood a pale-blue daybed with a button back, facing the garden. Two fat pillows of an oriental design in blue and pale gold sat at the head. Sven pushed off his trainers using the opposite heel and lay on the long couch. He reached up, taking her hand into his, and pulled her down on to the bed.

  She shivered, despite the warmth, and knelt by his side. ‘Can anyone see?’ She pointed towards the window, through which the sunlight poured.

  ‘No. It’s just the garden and then a wall.’ He paused. ‘I have something to tell you.’ His tone was earnest.

  Jacks hovered on her knees, poised, waiting for his revelation as he massaged the backs of her hands with his thumbs.

  ‘I love you. I loved you the first time I spoke to you and I knew I’d love you before that when I saw you across the hallway.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘That’s it! I love you!’

  Jacks felt her face break into a wide smile at the same time as tears threatened. ‘I love you too, Sven, and I always will.’

  He shuffled across the daybed until he was lying in the middle of it. ‘Are we safe? Protected?’ he asked huskily.

  ‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘I feel very safe when I’m with you. And no one knows about us, we are a secret!’

  She kissed him as he pulled her leg until she was sitting on top of him. She bent forward, kissing him deeply and with unrestrained passion, which he returned as he arched forward, reaching up under her school shirt and unhooking her bra with dexterity. There was no discussion, no planning, no permission sought or given; what happened next came naturally to them both. It was the perfect and predictable act between two people who were very much in love.

  As they lay hand in hand in the aftermath of their union, Sven brushed his fingers through her hair.

  ‘Can we get a couch just like this, when we live in Montana? We could put it on our deck and lie on it while we watch the fireflies.’ She smiled against his chest.

  ‘I think that’s a very good idea.’

  ‘Promise you’ll never leave me,’ she whispered.

  He kissed her forehead and lay back on the pillow, dozing. She laid her head on his chest, feeling very protected indeed and wanting to stay in that moment forever.

  17

  ‘I can’t believe I am doing this!’ Jacks practically squealed as they boarded the train and found their allocated seats, laughing like teens at the slightest provocation.

  She had spent the previous night and that morning tearing around the house in a tizz, wanting to get everything organised for the twelve hours she would be away from home. It didn’t matter that Pete told her he would take care of things. In fact the nicer he was, the worse she felt about nipping off to London. He had given her some spending money, urging her to get herself ‘something nice’. She attempted to assuage her guilt by leaving things as ordered as possible. The kids would come downstairs to find cereal in bowls, with spoons by the side, school shirts ironed and hanging on the doorframe of the lounge. She had even made rounds of sandwiches for her mum that were clingfilmed and on a shelf in the fridge, clearly labelled with a Post-it note.

  ‘For God’s sake, Jacks!’ Pete observed. ‘They aren’t babies, they can get their own breakfasts. And the lady coming in said she’d do your mum’s lunch. You have to stop making work for yourself. I know you’re tired, but you don’t help yourself, love. If you eased off a bit and let everyone else do more, things would be easier for you.’

  ‘I like to be in control, I like things to be done properly,’ she answered as she wiped dow
n the drainer by the sink.

  ‘I had noticed.’ He sat at the table and poured milk on to his cornflakes. ‘Just try and forget about us all for a day. Try and relax, have fun!’

  She stopped cleaning and looked at her husband. The reason for her trip sat in her throat like a golf ball, the deceit as hard as a lump that she couldn’t shift. ‘Thanks, Pete. I’ll be back tonight. I love you.’

  ‘I know.’ He beamed.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ Gina asked as she shrugged off her coat, bundled it up and threw it on to the rack above their heads. She adjusted her bra strap and got comfy for the journey.

  Jacks blew air from bloated cheeks. ‘Like I did when we were fourteen and used to skive swimming and go to the arcade! Excited, nervous, shit scared of getting caught, but like I’m alive. If that makes sense?’

  ‘Perfectly. You okay going backwards? Only it makes me feel sick.’ Gina grimaced.

  ‘Sure. I can’t remember the last time I was on a train. They are much smarter than they used to be.’

  ‘Yes, this one isn’t even steam!’ Gina quipped.

  ‘You know what I mean! It’s quite luxurious.’ Jacks ran her hand over the newly upholstered seat. She stowed her bag on her lap, dipped inside it, found her purse and removed her ticket, which she held in her hand.

  ‘Why are you holding your ticket?’

  ‘I don’t want to lose it and if the inspector comes round I’ll panic if I didn’t know where it is. I don’t want to get chucked off.’

  Gina laughed.

  The train was only half full. There were a number of men in suits, a couple of women with laptops open and the odd student, nose deep in their phones. Jacks smiled, picturing Martha. It had almost been a spur-of-the-moment decision to come. After the magic of Christmas had fizzled, she had felt the familiar low. With all the excitement out of the way and nothing but the credit-card bills and cold weather to look forward to, she agreed with Gina that a bit of adventure might be just what she needed. Ever since seeing Sven in the magazine, she had carried this new image of him around in her head and she had to admit that, like a rotten tooth, she couldn’t stop probing, no matter how painful.

  ‘Do you think Mum’ll be okay?’ Jacks flicked the ticket between her thumb and forefinger.

  ‘You said she was fine when you left?’

  ‘Yes,’ Jacks confirmed. ‘Very calm. Didn’t flinch when I introduced her to the nurse and said I was going out for a bit.’

  ‘And you said the nurse was nice?’

  ‘Oh yes, she’s lovely. Seemed really kind, an older lady who said there was nothing she hadn’t seen or done. I liked the way she spoke to Mum – respectful, gentle. And she said I could call any time for any reason.’

  ‘Well, that’s great then.’ Gina looked at her watch. ‘Thing is, Jacks, we have been together for forty minutes and that is the sixth time you have asked if Ida will be okay.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘No, no need for sorry. I understand, I do, but you have to try and relax. This is a day of adventure and you have to enjoy it.’

  ‘That’s what Pete said, bless him.’

  ‘You mustn’t feel guilty, Jacks. This is just a bit of fun and it will do you good. Sven is the distraction you need right now.’

  Jacks shrugged. She wasn’t very sure of anything.

  ‘When’s the last time you had a day that was just yours? When you went out for lunch and mooched the shops, stoked your fire?’

  Jacks looked out of the window and thought hard. It was probably when Jonty was tiny and her mum and dad had taken the kids out so she and Pete could have a day. They had gone into Bristol and walked on the harbourside and had lunch at the Mud Dock bike café overlooking the water. ‘About six years ago, I think.’

  ‘There you go then. You deserve this.’ Gina smiled. ‘It’s exciting, isn’t it? Are you nervous?’

  ‘Oh God, so nervous and guilty all mixed in together. There was Pete waving me off and the kids saying have a great time! I nearly didn’t come.’

  ‘Well, I’m glad you did. It’s not like you’re running off with the bloke, never to return.’ Gina rearranged her chunky multi-coloured necklaces over her ample bosom and sat back in her seat. ‘You’re not planning that, are you?’

  ‘Don’t be daft!’ Jacks shouted, unable to confess that in her imagination she kept seeing herself either being swept up in Sven’s warm, friendly embrace or redecorating two of the bedrooms in a mansion in San Francisco for Martha and Jonty. She shook her head. It was only fantasy, but Pete deserved more. She felt another wave of guilt. ‘Do I look okay?’

  Gina smiled at her friend. ‘You always look okay. You just don’t know it. You’ve got a killer figure.’

  Jacks ran her palm over her thighs. Her bootcut jeans were snug. She had carefully chosen a silky white T-shirt with a waterfall neckline; it was flattering and smart but not overdone. She had teamed it with a turquoise pashmina and a large turquoise-coloured ring that she’d found in a charity shop. The inside of it turned her finger green, but she doubted anyone would be examining her fingers that closely. She had put make-up on: peachy blush sat on her cheeks and tinted gloss made her full bottom lip shine.

  ‘I mean it, Jacks. You are one sexy woman.’

  Jacks waved her hand as if to shoo away the compliment. ‘Must be all that running up and down the stairs!’

  ‘Well, whatever it is, you look fab and you look pretty and happy. You don’t always look happy, but you do today.’

  Jacks nodded into her lap. ‘I still really miss my dad a lot and that’s like a sadness that is always there.’

  ‘It’ll fade, Jacks.’

  She looked out of the window at the trees and hedgerows rushing by. ‘He was lovely, wasn’t he? More than my dad, he was my mate, the person I called if the washing machine flooded or the car wouldn’t start. Even now, I wish I could grab the phone to ask him a question – he just seemed to know stuff. Or to share something that the kids have said. And the shock when I remember that he’s not going to answer… it leaves me speechless, every time.’

  ‘I know you were close to your dad and I bet you must really miss him. But I think…’ Gina paused.

  ‘You think what?’

  ‘I think taking on your mum was a noble thing to do.’ Gina sighed. ‘But I’ve known you since primary school and you and your mum were never close. She wasn’t that type of mum, was she? Not the sort of cuddly, make-it-all-better mum.’

  Jacks shook her head. ‘I suppose not, no.’ Gina was right. Ida had never been the kind of mum to invite Jacks’ friends home for tea, or make her room cosy or put her arms around her after a crappy day and tell her everything would be okay.

  ‘And you’re being the best daughter you can be, I know that, but you’re going above and beyond. You’re knocking yourself out every day and it would be better for her and for you if she was somewhere she could get twenty-four-hour care. Then you could get your life back and Martha could get her room back. It’s important.’

  ‘I know it’s important, G! Do you think I don’t?’ She sniffed back her tears; she wasn’t going to cry, not there on the train, in public, and not after having so carefully put on mascara and eyeliner. She didn’t want to arrive at the Boat Show looking like a soggy panda.

  ‘Of course you know, but you’re my best mate, Jacks, and watching you run yourself into the ground is horrible. It’s like you’re serving out a sentence. But it doesn’t need to be like that. Ida doesn’t know whether it’s bed time or the January sales, she is in her own little world. It makes no difference to her who cuts up her food or helps her in the shower, but it would make a huge difference to you and the kids.’

  ‘Actually, G, it makes a huge difference. She can get very flustered if I’m not there.’ Jacks hated having to explain.

  ‘But she didn’t this morning, did she? Maybe when you tried before, when everything was a bit new and strange, that was the case, but now she’s not as with it as she was, maybe
things might be different? She’s slipped quite a lot in the last eighteen months.’

  ‘I know. But I made a promise, a promise to my dad.’

  ‘Jacks, I’ve told you what your dad would think. And not only that, he was very poorly, whacked out on painkillers when he died.’

  Jacks shook her head, trying to erase those last moments on that dreadful day. She recalled the sound of his laboured breathing, the gap between each breath growing longer and longer, and her sense of confusion as she’d simultaneously prayed it was and wasn’t his last.

  Gina continued. ‘He wouldn’t have been too aware of what he was saying. He might have meant look after her that day, or at his funeral. You don’t know what he meant, not really, not literally, but you’ve taken his words as some kind of law and it’s ruining your life!’

  ‘It’s not only what he said, it was the way he said it. And besides, this is a chance to…’

  ‘A chance to what? Get close to your mum?’

  Jacks nodded and stared out of the window, hearing her mum’s words. ‘You can be selfish and selfish people are very hard to love…’

  ‘Can we please change the subject?’ she asked.

  ‘Sure. Tell me about Gideon Parks.’

  ‘Oh God, do I have to?’ Jacks raised her eyebrows.

  ‘Pete told Rob he was a smasher.’

  ‘Did he now?’ Jacks laughed at her husband’s summary. She could hear him saying it. ‘Truthfully, G, he is. I know you think I don’t like him, but it’s not that. He’s lovely, but he’s not what I want for Martha.’

  Gina snorted. ‘Well, that might be too bad! What about what Martha wants for Martha?’

  ‘How can she know what she wants? She’s a baby! She might make a decision now that’ll haunt her for the rest of her life and it’ll be too late, she’ll be stuck.’

  ‘Are we still talking about Martha?’ Gina stared at her friend.

  ‘Tickets, please!’

  ‘Ooh! Here!’ Jacks panicked and held hers in the air.

  Gina laughed loudly.