by Sue Limb
Jess’s mum had given her ten pounds that morning, so she had enough money for a pasty, and selected a cheese and onion one. She bought a Coke to go with it, and went out and sat on the harbour wall. Seagulls screamed overhead, and several dive-bombed her, looking jealously at her pasty with their greedy little light-coloured eyes.
Jess had seen a notice imploring people not to feed the gulls, so she sort of hid her pasty inside her jacket and told them to peck off. She sat in the sun, enjoying her solitary picnic. Music drifted from an open window. People laughed nearby. It seemed a happy place.
She finished her snack and decided it was time to find Dad’s house.
‘Excuse me,’ said Jess, selecting at random an old couple sitting on a bench. ‘Do you know where the Old Pilchard Loft is?’
The aged pair squinted at her, their faces looking like ancient maps.
‘Sorry, love,’ said the woman. ‘We’re only on holiday.’
‘Is it a restaurant?’ asked the man.
‘No,’ said Jess. ‘It’s where my dad lives. It’s his house.’
The old people looked a bit mystified. They clearly thought it a bit odd that Jess didn’t know where her own father lived.
‘Mum and Dad are divorced,’ said Jess, embarrassed. ‘I’m paying him a surprise visit and this is the first time I’ve been down here.’ This was getting a bit silly. She had only wanted to ask for directions but she had ended up telling them half her life story.
‘Ah,’ said the old woman. ‘Never mind, dear. We’re divorced, too.’
Now it was Jess’s turn to look puzzled.
‘You’re divorced?’ They didn’t look very divorced, sitting on a bench in the sun and sort of cuddling up close like a couple of old cats sunbathing.
‘We’re divorced from other people,’ the woman went on. ‘Jim’s divorced from Joan and I’m divorced from Harry.’
This conversation, though more and more bizarre, was somehow reassuring.
‘Lots of people are divorced nowadays,’ said Jess. ‘In fact, when I grow up I’m just going to get divorced straightaway without bothering to get married first.’
She had thought this was quite a good joke, but the old couple just looked confused. This stand-up comedy business was harder than she had thought.
‘Why not try the tourist office?’ suggested the man. ‘They usually know where everything is.’
‘Good idea!’ said Jess. ‘Where’s the tourist office?’
Eventually, after a lot of confusion, Jess found the tourist office and a kind woman helped her by giving her a street map and colouring Dad’s street in green. It was a cobbled street, very narrow and old, with glimpses of dazzling sea between the houses. All the doorsteps were spilling over with flowers and here and there a palm tree flicked its glittering fronds in the breeze.
‘The Old Pilchard Loft.’ Suddenly she saw the hand-painted sign. Her heart started to beat very fast. She hadn’t seen her dad for months – not since Easter, when he’d come up to see her in town. The house looked a bit like a small warehouse or a barn. Beside the front door was a ship’s bell. You had to pull a rope to make it ring. Jess hesitated, embarrassed about the noise it would make.
There was also a vast brass knocker shaped like a pineapple. Jess didn’t want to use this either. It would so obviously be deafening. She knocked on the front door with her knuckles instead. She waited. No reply. She knocked again, so hard it hurt. No reply. What if he was out? Jess’s heart began to sink. It was all going horribly wrong.
OK, it was time to ring the bell. Maybe he hadn’t heard her knocking. Jess reached up, and tugged the rope. A deafening peal rang out, up and down the street. Jess cringed and blushed. But there was the sound of movement somewhere, far away in the house, and a few moments later, above her head, a window opened and her dad’s head looked out.
Chapter 26
‘Jess!’ he said, astonished. He blushed. He was so socially inept, the moron. But he was the best dad in the world, so Jess was prepared to forgive everything. ‘I wasn’t expecting you till tomorrow!’ he stammered. ‘Wait a minute, I’ll be down in a sec.’
He disappeared, and the window closed. Jess waited by the front door. She looked up and down the street to see if anyone had witnessed their touching reunion. But, thank goodness, there was nobody about.
So this was her dad’s house. It was semi-divine. She was longing to see the inside of it.
A few minutes later, the front door opened and Dad appeared, his funny straw-coloured hair all over the place. Jess’s heart overflowed with love.
‘Dad!’ she said, and buried herself in his arms. ‘Big big hug!’ she muttered into his sweater. It was what she always used to ask for when she was a little girl. Dad felt warm and safe. As moments go, it was one of the very best.
‘So,’ said Dad, once the hug was over. ‘You look fabulous – almost human. Where’s your mum?’ And he looked up and down the street as if he expected her to be lurking in someone’s garden, crouching behind a wall.
‘Oh, Mum doesn’t know I’ve come,’ said Jess. ‘I got the bus over from Penzance. We’re staying there. She said we were coming to see you tomorrow, but I couldn’t wait!’ She beamed up at her dad, and he gave her a nervous smile.
‘Well – er – that’s great,’ he said, with just a tiny dash of anxiety. ‘But we’d better ring her, just to let her know you’re safe.’
‘Let’s go in, then!’ said Jess, peeping past her dad into the interior. She could see a vase of flowers on the hall table. ‘I’m dying to see your house!’
Suddenly, astonishingly, Dad went pale and pulled the door shut behind him. For a split second he looked completely panicked.
‘No – tell you what,’ he said, ‘I was just going out – to do some shopping. And I was going to have fish and chips for my lunch. There’s a great little chippy just down the road – come on!’
‘But Dad – can’t I just have a quick look round your house, first? I’ve just had a massive pasty anyway!’ said Jess.
‘When we get back,’ said Dad, putting his arm round her shoulders and setting off firmly down the road. ‘You may not be hungry, but I am! And before anything else, we’ve got to ring your mum.’
As they went off down the road, Dad got his mobile out and dialled Mum’s number.
‘Mad?’ he said. He still called her that. Short for Madeleine, but also quite appropriate. ‘Hi, guess what? Our impulsive daughter has turned up on my doorstep … No … no, she hasn’t … it’s fine, really. No problem at all … OK, then. Right … Well, I might, if the right moment presents itself … Bye, then. Lots of love.’
‘What was all that about the right moment presenting itself?’ asked Jess.
‘It’s a secret,’ said Dad. ‘You’ll just have to wait and see.’
‘Was Mum OK about me coming here?’ asked Jess.
‘Well,’ Dad grinned. ‘She was a bit shirty at first, but she soon calmed down. Probably because she was surrounded by amazing plants.’
‘Mum should chuck the library job and go to work in a garden centre,’ said Jess.
They cut down a side lane to the harbour and bought some chips, and then, at last, Dad began to relax.
Jess was on guard, though. Something a bit odd had happened back there at his front door. It was as if, back at his house, there was something – or somebody – he was ashamed of. Was it anything to do with this secret business?
‘Let’s go to Porthmeor,’ said Dad, placing his chips inside his sweater to keep them warm. ‘You’ll love it there – it’s the surfing beach.’
‘Dad, you complete dingbat!’ said Jess. ‘Your sweater will stink of chips. Plus you look pregnant, which, let’s face it, is unusual in a man.’ And even as she said it, a horrible idea flashed into her mind. Maybe Dad was expecting a baby! With another woman! Or, even worse – maybe he’d already had one.
Jess walked on at Dad’s side. He was talking about something to do with an art gallery, but Jess
wasn’t listening. Her mind was racing. Who was back at his house?
A horrible vision flashed before Jess’s eyes. It was the woman who had taken Mum’s place: younger, obviously. No man ever traded in a young wife for a middle-aged one. Incompetent though her dad was, Jess didn’t expect him to have acquired a crone.
She was pretty, with blonde curly hair and a delightful trim figure, even though she had given birth so recently. And what if she’d had twins! There could be two babies wailing away in the Old Pilchard Loft. Although Jess hadn’t heard any wailing when she’d knocked.
They rounded the corner of a little lane and suddenly a wide beach appeared before them. Huge waves raced up the shoreline, and people in wetsuits were performing acrobatic acts on their boards before toppling delightfully into the foaming surf.
‘I’m going to have my chips here,’ said Dad, sitting down on the sand. He got out the chips, unwrapped them and offered Jess one.
‘Sorry, Dad,’ she sighed. ‘I just can’t manage it.’ She felt a bit queasy, but not because of her previous lunch. She felt sick with dread in case her dad had somehow smuggled a whole new family into his life and not told her.
Obviously, the new family would be favourites. Babies especially seem adorable even when pooing in their pants, dribbling, burping and yelling all night. How unfair life was. If Jess behaved like that, she’d be in big trouble.
Dad watched the surfers and quietly ate his chips. Suddenly Jess noticed that there was a ring on his finger. She hadn’t seen it before. It was silver, and plain, but it was on his wedding finger. Was this the new ring to celebrate his new wife? Was he staring at the waves and saying nothing because he didn’t dare to break the news to her?
OK, thought Jess, as usual I’m going to have to coax my useless parents towards some kind of communication.
‘It’s great to see you again, Dad,’ she said, grinning.
‘Great to see you, too, you strange little fish,’ said her dad. He threw his arm round her and squeezed her tight.
‘Some of my friends never get to see their dads,’ Jess went on. ‘Eleanor, for example.’ Eleanor was a complete invention. Jess had taken the name from Lady Eleanor at Berry Pomeroy Castle. ‘Her dad went off to live in Los Angeles. He married a really young woman and they’ve had two babies. Called Carlo and – and – and I’ve forgotten the other one’s name. Bonzo.’
‘Sounds like a dog,’ commented Dad, finishing his chips.
Oops! Jess realised she must be careful not to make her characters too weird and colourful.
‘Yeah, anyway, Elly hardly ever gets to see her dad because he lives such a long way away.’
‘Curses!’ said her dad. ‘I should have escaped to California. I never thought of that.’
Jess began to feel that her dad wasn’t in the right mood for her serious talk about stepmothers and stepbabies, but she ploughed on.
‘Well, Elly goes there once a year,’ said Jess. ‘And she really gets on well with her stepmother. And she adores the babies.’
‘Look! There’s a cormorant!’ said Dad, pointing at a large black bird with a long neck, perched on a distant rock. ‘They hold their wings out to dry them in the sun.’
Jess sighed. Her dad was mad about birds. Maybe when they got back to his place, she’d find a swan’s nest in the sitting room and he’d introduce her to a couple of step-cygnets.
‘No birds yet, Dad! Please! You and Mum are always trying to stuff me with education. Let’s just go back to your house now. I’m dying to see it. And I need to make a couple of phone calls. My mobile needs recharging. Do you mind? Please may I, Dad?’
Of course Jess’s mobile hadn’t run out of charge. But she wanted to put pressure on Dad to go back to his house. This was no time for watching surfers or birds.
Her dad started to look a bit anxious again. He scratched his head, looked at his watch, rubbed his left cheek, pulled his collar up, brushed the sand off his knees, and then said, ‘Sure! Just let’s watch a couple more waves first.’
You couldn’t miss the change in him. He was definitely hiding something.
Chapter 27
Jess thought she would have one last try. Surely he’d feel hugely relieved if they could just get the subject out into the open.
‘Loads of people in my class have divorced parents,’ she said.
‘Oh, well – glad to find we’re fashionable,’ said her dad, becoming flippant again. But there was a nervous undertone to all this wisecracking.
‘There’s loads of advantages, too,’ Jess went on. ‘Especially when the parents marry again. Or just get involved in a new relationship. There’s twice the number of Christmas presents, for a start. And two houses to stay in. So kids are really OK about their parents splitting up, as long as they don’t fight. And if their mums and dads get involved with other people afterwards, it can make it a lot easier.’
Her dad looked keenly at her for a moment. Jess saw reflections of the cloud and the sea in his eyes, but behind all the reflections there was a glimmer of understanding.
‘Jess – are you trying to tell me something?’
‘Well, sort of,’ admitted Jess. She waited.
Her dad looked thoughtful. Any minute now he would confess all. He would admit he had a beautiful blonde bimbo stashed away back at the Pilchard Loft, with a possible baby or babies.
‘Well, I’m really pleased for her,’ said her dad. ‘Who is he?’
Jess’s mind reeled, as if suddenly it had fallen into brambles.
‘What?’ she stuttered. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’
‘Aren’t you trying to tell me that Mum has got a new man in her life?’
‘No, you dingbat! I was trying to find out if you had a new woman in yours!’
Dad looked uncertain for a moment, and then laughed.
‘Relax, you peculiar little octopus,’ he said, mussing up her hair. ‘There is no woman in my life! I swear it’s the truth!’
They walked back to the Pilchard Loft hand in hand. Jess was relieved to know there wouldn’t be a strange and possibly hostile beauty queen waiting for them, or even worse, a nasty baby who had replaced her in her dad’s affections.
‘Do you think Mum ever will get a new man in her life?’ asked her dad.
This was interesting. It was even encouraging. Maybe this was the beginning of a reconciliation.
‘I don’t think so,’ said Jess. ‘I’m beginning to think Mum hasn’t really got over splitting up with you.’
She peeped up at her dad’s face. He looked suddenly awful. Really gutted.
‘Really?’ he said. ‘Don’t say that. I feel so guilty.’
‘So was it you who wanted to split up, then?’ asked Jess.
‘Well … I think I should leave it to your mum to tell you how it all happened.’
‘But I want to hear your side of it.’
Her dad gave a thin, anxious smile. ‘I promise I’ll tell you everything from my side of it, but not right now. I’ve got to have a bit of time to come up with some convincing excuses.’
‘OK.’ Jess grinned. ‘I’m really looking forward to seeing your house. Can I have a shower or a bath, Dad?’
‘Sure,’ said Dad.
They had reached the front door. Dad got his keys out. Jess could see his hand was shaking slightly. Or did it always shake like that? She wasn’t sure. Dad unlocked the door, pushed it open and politely ushered Jess in. She stepped inside. The first thing she saw was the huge vase of flowers on the hall table.
Suddenly Jess heard a footstep in a further room. Oh no! There was someone here! She braced herself. Then somebody appeared at the far end of the hall. Thank goodness! It was only a man. He was short and muscular with curly black hair and blue eyes.
‘Oh, Phil!’ said Dad. ‘I thought you said you’d be going out. This is my daughter, Jess. Jess, this is Phil. He’s just staying here for a while. He split up with his girlfriend and she threw him out.’
Phil strolled a
cross to Jess, grinning, and shook her hand.
‘Hi, Jess!’ he said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’ His hand was warm, and his smile was a mile wide.
‘Sorry to hear about – your break-up,’ said Jess, embarrassed.
‘Oh, I don’t mind!’ said Phil. ‘It was the best thing that could have happened really. I found out later she was seeing another guy behind my back. A bodybuilder from Hayle.’
‘No need to go into details,’ said Dad nervously. There was a slightly awkward silence for a few seconds.
‘Anyway,’ said Phil, ‘I’m going shopping. I’ll see if I can find some little treats.’ And he gave Jess a special smile.
Jess decided she liked him quite a lot. She had hoped there would be nobody else at Dad’s house, but this Phil guy was certainly an improvement on tragic solitude.
‘Thanks,’ said Jess’s dad. ‘Er – come and see my studio, Jess.’
He led Jess upstairs and into a room with a high ceiling and velux windows. Canvases were propped everywhere, and there was a painting on an easel. Last time Jess had seen her dad’s paintings, a few years ago, they had been landscapes and seascapes in blue, grey and white, with possibly a bird or a fish.
This time, Jess could hardly believe her eyes. The paintings were a riot of colour: fireworks fizzing, bands playing, clowns, sunflowers, jewels. There were still birds, but they were sheer fantasy: pink and purple parrots laying sky-blue eggs. There were still fish, but they weren’t pale and grey and flat and dead. They were enormous weird creatures of the deep, with flashing lights and antennae and big laughing lipstick mouths.
‘Wow!’ said Jess. ‘Wow! Amazing!’
‘I’ve changed my style a lot since you last saw my work,’ admitted Dad.
‘Changed it?’ said Jess. ‘It’s a breakthrough, Dad. What happened?’
‘Coming to live down here had a big effect on me. Somehow, I felt, well … set free.’
‘You didn’t feel free, then, living with me and Mum,’ said Jess, plunging suddenly into deep, jealous sorrow.
‘It wasn’t like that, exactly,’ said Dad. ‘It was just, you know – as if Mum and I were, well, different species. As if she was a sparrow and I was a – well, a tortoise or something.’