A Year of Second Chances

by kendra Smith

  ‘Yes, he’z very how you say, willy-full!’

  ‘I think you mean wilful.’ She giggled. ‘Yes, he is.’

  ‘Meeze Havilland, she asks me to take him to the dog Reiki, to calm him.’

  ‘To what?’

  Ramone produced a business card from his pocket:

  Dog Reiki classes to calm the canine.

  She let out a laugh. ‘Honestly! What next?’

  Ramone shrugged his shoulders and smiled. ‘Izz funny, no? Not sure it helps ’im. Always barking…’ Ramone usually didn’t find any of life’s challenges too much – he breezed through life in an English small town with Spanish flair and humour, endearing himself to everyone, especially Mrs Anderson from the Coffee Cup, who had agreed to take on a few of Ramone’s home-made tapas for a bit of, what did she call it, ‘artisan cooking’ in her café.

  But today Ramone did seem fed up. Must be hard working away from your home, your family, mused Dawn. Getting to grips with the language. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. ‘I’m just popping into the Coffee Cup for a coffee. Why don’t you join us later? I’m meeting a friend.’

  He nodded and she waved him off and wandered into the coffee shop and was met by the delicious smell of cinnamon. A small child had hot chocolate piled high with fake cream, and dusted with chocolate shavings; her eyes devoured the hot mince pies on a nearby table, some beautifully crisp-looking croissants on the mum’s plate with a mountain of raspberry jam and a pot of tea with wisps of steam escaping from the spout. Heaven. She wished she could bake like that.

  She settled down with her newspaper and was idly flicking through various pieces about Donald Trump when someone touched her shoulder.

  ‘Hi, Dawn.’

  Dawn turned around, stood up and gave Charlie a hug.

  ‘How’re you doing?’

  ‘Sorry I’m a bit late, got caught up doing a re-clean of Stockfields. One of the dentist’s rooms wasn’t clean enough apparently.’ She raised her eyes heavenward and collapsed in the chair. The poor girl looked worn out.

  ‘Let’s get you a drink – what would you like?’

  ‘Tea’s great, thank you.’

  They chatted about Charlie’s job; Dawn was horrified to find out how her boss treated her, but she managed to stop Charlie before she revealed too much about the contents of the bin – after all, her croissant had just arrived.

  ‘What do you want to talk to me about?’ she asked gently.

  Charlie’s dark auburn hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and she was wearing a navy blue sweater and tracksuit bottoms. She looked tired, admittedly, but her hazel brown eyes were still beautiful. Her complexion was creamy and soft; Dawn almost wanted to reach out and touch her cheek and check it was real. When Dawn had looked in the mirror yesterday, her neck had reminded her of a lizard; she had resolved there and then to invest in some more scarves – or what was it that website had suggested, ‘statement jewellery’ to cover up imperfections. Jesus, the whole of me is an ‘imperfection’, Dawn had huffed, pulling back the skin along her hairline to see what difference it made.

  ‘I just wanted to find out about Suzie, and chat about what I’m doing—’ She looked Dawn straight in the eye. ‘I don’t know—’ she shrugged ‘—I haven’t really got many people to talk to. But I don’t want you to feel sorry for me or anything,’ she said quickly, then sighed. ‘I have a couple of people who are quite persistent in asking about a loan I took out – they want the money back. Like I said back at Suzie’s.’

  ‘Oh, Charlie.’ Dawn frowned. ‘Maybe you should go to the police?’

  ‘No way!’ This seemed to really startle her. ‘It’s fine,’ she added. ‘I can handle it, but this baby thing, it’s kind of my only way out,’ she said twisting her cheap blue plastic watch round and round on her wrist. ‘But it’s all much harder than I thought.’ She looked up at Dawn.

  ‘I see,’ said Dawn. Who didn’t see at all. Who couldn’t – at forty-nine, happily married with two kids in a prep school and a ‘comfortable’ income – understand how hard it must be. Suddenly the whole surrogacy thing did seem like a good idea. This brave girl was taking the only chance she could; she needed to be supported in this.

  ‘Suzie desperately – and I mean really desperately wants this baby and it will be hard for you, but I think it’s a great idea. It works for both of you, doesn’t it? Suzie told me that the clinic are saying that it’s all very positive.’ She didn’t know what else to say, but was it her imagination, or had Charlie flinched a bit just then?

  ‘Charlie, what is it?’ The poor girl seemed quite a mess.

  ‘No, nothing; this is—’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The trouble is—’ Charlie took a sip of her tea ‘—Suzie’s a bit too desperate. She’s phoning me every five minutes, and texting.’ Charlie reached in her bag and pulled out her phone to show Dawn a text.

  Plse drink at least 3 glasses of milk a day for the baby’s bones (and yrs) – plus, I bked an online order for u (tomoz) including sardines, purple sprouting broccoli and organic milk. Extra strength fish oils are ordered 4 nxt week. S

  ‘I flippin’ hate sardines!’ Charlie looked at Dawn and then they both grinned.

  Dawn patted her arm. ‘Haven’t you got any family?’

  ‘No. I never knew my real mum, spent all my school years going from foster family to foster family—’

  ‘Oh, that must have been really awful for you.’

  ‘Got used to it; didn’t know any other way.’ She shrugged.

  ‘What about Tyler’s father?’

  Charlie was about to take a sip of tea, then stopped mid-way. She looked at Dawn then blinked. Her expression changed.

  ‘Does Tyler know who he is?’

  Charlie shook her head vigorously.

  ‘Oh, right, OK.’ Must’ve been a teen pregnancy. How absolutely dreadful for her, thought Dawn as she watched Charlie stare at a family of three sitting at one of the tables. She tidied a tiny wisp of hair behind her ears as an idea suddenly flashed through her mind. ‘As long as you don’t want another baby yourself, Charlie, do you?’

  ‘God, no! No way. Can’t imagine being in a position to actually want another baby. Tyler’s quite enough!’

  But Dawn wasn’t so sure. Should she bring up the baby shop? How upset Suzie had been on the phone to her? Ask her why she’d done it? She put her cup down. ‘Well, look, I think what you’re doing is wonderful. You both get what you want.’ She smiled to make her point.

  ‘Oh, I know, I know, it’s a lot of money.’ Charlie sighed. ‘Yes, Suzie does seem to get what she wants most of the time.’ Charlie raised her eyebrows. ‘Organised transport for me, says I shouldn’t use the bus! Especially if I’m going to be carrying her baby! Oh well.’ She played with her teaspoon. ‘She’s paying.’

  ‘Sounds like Suzie.’ Dawn nodded and thought about her demanding friend. Soft as a marshmallow underneath, Dawn knew that, but she gave a good show of being hard as nails on the outside. She remembered even back during uni days, when they’d had many sleepovers together in each other’s flats (although they weren’t called ‘sleepovers’ then and did not involve, as her daughter Alice’s did, baking competitions, flouncing off in huffs, glitter and iPads). No, it had just been her and Suzie, watching Blind Date on TV and eating ice cream from the tub. Even then she’d say things like: ‘That bloke would make a good father.’ How strange. Suddenly, a thought occurred to Dawn.

  ‘Charlie?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Christmas – you must come to us!’

  As Charlie nodded and started to say something, there was some loud barking nearby and a sing-songy: ‘Hey, Meeses Dawn!’ It was Ramone with Pixie tucked up under his arm.

  He neatly transferred Pixie from his arm to his lap, so nobody would notice him, smiled broadly at them both as he picked up the menu with a flourish and sat down. ‘Zis dog!’ he said, tickling Pixie under his chin. ‘So willy-full.’ Charlie and Dawn caught each oth
er’s eye and laughed.

  36

  Charlie

  I text Daniel straight away when I find the perfect camera on a local community website. I want to surprise him. I stayed up till 1 a.m. last night to find one, especially after his outburst. I know how much it means to him, and he’s so talented – well, I think so. New cameras cost anything up to a thousand pounds, but I’ve found a second-hand one, with the lens cap missing and no case for £250. If I use my money meant for maternity clothes that Suzie’s given me, and this week’s shopping, plus some from the rent, I can just about do it.

  Hiya, can we fit in another trip asap. Urgent. Need to pick up a parcel. Don’t tell Suzie, OK?

  Daniel fires back a text straight away.

  Sure. What time shall I cme pick u up?

  This time it’s nothing to do with Suzie, nothing to do with a trip for my job. I just need to get this camera and Suzie doesn’t need to know why. She’d only wonder how I could afford it and I can’t afford to piss her off any more, not after the baby shop thing.

  Once I’m in the car, I read out the directions to Daniel as he puts it into his iPhone and we start to follow the route. We make our way past several small shops, a hairdresser and the town square, which has tiny gold Christmas trees in silver pots lining the edges. There is a Salvation Army choir singing and a few people are gathered around. A mile later, we turn into Magnolia Drive and I shiver. Not here. I hadn’t realised we’d be going anywhere near this place.

  ‘Knew someone up that road,’ I say quietly as Daniel suddenly jerks round to stare at me. He’s white as a sheet.

  He starts to say something: ‘I—’ but stops when my phone goes.

  It’s Tyler. ‘Mum, where are you? I need some money and there’s none in the basket where you usually leave it. Christ’s sake, Mum, I have to get the bus to get to work!’

  I look over at Daniel to see if he’s overheard. He’s staring out the window and seems miles away.

  I move the phone to my other ear. ‘Sorry, Tyler… Look, I won’t be long – take some money from my dressing table. There’s some in the little dish there.’

  Daniel puts the radio on and we both listen to chart hits. My phone pings.

  Found some money on dressing table. Only fiver. Soz for shouting. Got stressed I’d miss the bus. T

  That one text is the equivalent of a ten-page apology for Tyler. I smile and suddenly Daniel turns the radio down. ‘Hate that song.’ The DJ was playing a track from the late eighties. ‘Reminds me of— Anyway, don’t worry. Just memories.’ He smiles at me.

  We’re in a residential part of the town now. The houses are big ‘executive homes’ with wide driveways and spanking clean, raked gravel drives. After a bit, we turn off into a narrow road where the houses are all 1950s bungalows and much smaller. There are little footprints all over the grass verge – human and animal, pale green imprints making a crazy pattern on the light snowfall. There’s a red letterbox at the end of the street; it’s top is covered in snow; a perfectly magical Christmas card setting.

  My mind wanders back to the road we just drove up to get here, Magnolia Drive, to the last time I’d come up there.

  ‘Right, we’re here.’ Daniel suddenly pulls in. I glance out the window to see a dirty bungalow, covered in ivy on one side. It’s hard to see the numbers. ‘Number 43, that’s it.’ He nods to the house and I can just make out a silver tinsel wreath on the front door.

  I check the address from my piece of paper and nod. ‘Yup, this is it.’ Opening the door, I’m hit with a blast of chilly wind and tiny snowflakes fall in front of me. My breath wraps around me in a misty veil as I wander up to the door and knock. As I wait on the steps I hear footsteps shuffling behind the door. A middle-aged man in a blue chunky knit cardigan opens the door and beams at me. I’m hit with a smell of stale cabbage and can’t help but notice the carpet is a bit threadbare.

  ‘Hello? Mr Robinson?’

  He nods.

  ‘I’ve come for the camera. The Nikon.’

  ‘Righto.’ And he bustles back inside in his slippers and reappears with a camera in a Sainsbury’s bag.

  ‘That’s £250, love.’

  ‘Can we make it £200? I know it’s cheeky, but…’ That £50 will help with the shopping. I feel bad asking, but I have to. ‘It’s for my son,’ I add. ‘He’s desperate to have it for a course he’s trying to get on.’ I smile. ‘We can’t afford a new one.’ I look at him and give him my best smile.

  ‘How old is your son?’

  ‘Seventeen.’

  ‘Yes all right.’ He nods. ‘Same age as I was when I got hooked.’

  I take the bag from him. ‘Wish him luck,’ he says, smiling at me and taking the envelope of money in exchange. ‘I’ve had that camera for twenty years and it’s never let me down. Don’t need it any more though and my sight’s not what it used to be. Tell him to enter some competitions, if he’s any good.’

  ‘Will do – oh, and Merry Christmas.’ I’m not sure what comes over me but I lean in and peck him on the cheek.

  ‘You too, pet.’ He smiles.

  Daniel is fiddling with his phone when I get back into the car.

  ‘God it’s freezing out there!’ I sink back into the warm car seat and pull my coat closer.

  Daniel turns to me and puts his phone down. ‘Charlie, I know it’s none of my business, but how can you afford that? I do know a bit about photography and when you told me the one you’d bought, even second-hand, I know it’s worth about £1,000. Sorry to be so blunt, but I know Suzie, for whatever reason, is letting me drive you around. But as a cleaner, how can you possibly afford it? I’m just trying to—’

  ‘Got it for £200, if you must know. And I’ve saved up – for Tyler’s sake. Actually, I’m using some of my rent money but – I have to.’

  ‘Why? I overhead that phone call – the way he speaks to you.’

  ‘I know he can be a complete pain in the backside, but he loves photography. He’s desperate to make a go of it and to stop working in that bloody fish and chip shop. I admire him trying to better himself. I’m proud of him, proud he’s trying to get himself out of the shit – well, to make a better life for himself, like I wish I could have—’ I take a deep breath.

  ‘But, Charlie, it’s not your fault you’re a single mum – whoever it was – whichever bastard left you high and dry – yes, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you’ve done amazingly well. Brought up a son, cared for him doing the job of two parents.’

  I feel so touched he cares so much about me, feels protective towards me. Nobody has been ‘there’ for me in life, and I’m overcome with a sensation of gratitude, longing… It’s hard to explain… even though Daniel doesn’t know the real reason I’m a single parent, and I’m not sure I ever want him to.

  As I look across at him, I notice he is staring at me, and I am lost in those chestnut eyes.

  ‘Charlie?’

  ‘Mmm?’ I nod.

  ‘You’ve got loads of snowflakes on your scarf.’ He grins at me, then reaches over to brush them away as the blood rushes to my ears. I feel the heat rising up my chest as he skims a snowflake off my scarf, and his hand lightly touches my face. I look up at him and something in me melts. I reach up and take hold of his hand, which is resting gently on my cheek. Slowly, he leans across his seat and plants the most tender kiss on my lips.

  At first, I am stunned. I gently kiss him back, but then his lips press further into mine with urgency and I find that something is unleashed in me. Parts of me that have been dormant for so long spring to life and it’s a combination of my heart and my head sinking deeper into the kiss as I enter a daydream state that I never want to end. His hand finds the back of my neck and pulls me closer as I lean towards him in my seat.

  Finally, we both pull away, breathless. I put my hand up to my lips, touch them, and smile at him, aware that everything has just changed between us.

  ‘Right, Ms Moore.’ He grins at me as he turns the igni
tion on. ‘Let’s get you home.’

  My heart is soaring and I can’t keep a grin from spreading across my face. I turn to look out of the window so he can’t see my expression. As we travel along the roads, the sun has come out and is casting its rays across the snowy landscape. Fences, car roofs and rooftops have been showered with glittering snow. My mind’s in a trance, a wonderful, exhilarating trance. As we pull into my road, I’m aware of Daniel humming next to me; and as I sit in the cosy car by my house unwilling to let the spell be broken, he silently places his hand on my knee and squeezes it tight.

  37

  Dawn

  ‘Mummy said yesterday when we were on the way home from school that you’re quite annoying. That she doesn’t like her spatulas moved around. What’s a spatula, Nanna?’ Alice cocked her head sideways and looked at Joyce. Dawn stopped dead as she walked into the kitchen to witness this scene and overhear Alice gaily telling Joyce all her secrets; she blushed. That girl was far too much like her no-filter Nanna, Dawn inwardly fumed – that DNA must be pretty strong.

  ‘Well,’ Joyce said, bending back up from loading the dishwasher and looking pointedly at Dawn, ‘it’s a plastic cooking utensil you use to scrape things out of bowls – like chocolate cake mix!’ She tickled Alice under the chin. Then she carefully carried on unloading the dishwasher.

  ‘Joyce, you know I didn’t mean that!’ Dawn laughed, staring at Alice and motioning with her hand across her throat that she would kill her, behind Joyce’s back. ‘I meant it’s quite annoying not finding all the things you’re used to finding in the kitchen.’

  ‘No, Mummy, you said “Nanna is quite annoying to have around”.’

  ‘I don’t think you heard me right, did you, Alice? Now off you go and tell your brother to wash his hands.’ She pushed Alice through the door quickly as her daughter seemed to be making things worse the more she spoke.

  Dawn helped Joyce unload the rest of the plates.

  ‘All ready for the big day?’ Joyce was stacking plates in the cupboard.