Then she took his hand and led him, first to the hall and then slowly upstairs. Turning left on the landing they entered her bedroom. There, he threw her on the bed and peeled every item of clothing from her. When she was naked, he marvelled at her body. He undressed slowly, standing to look at her. She never took her eyes off him. He climbed onto the bed. ‘Jess,’ he whispered.
‘Sssh, no talking.’ She put a finger to his lips and then put it in his mouth. It was a good idea, no talking. Instead, he explored her body slowly. He kissed every inch of her. She arched her back to him when he licked a certain point on her hip. She was prepared, leaned into a drawer and ripped a condom open, slid it onto him so expertly that he tried not to think about it. Tried not to think of other lovers she might have had. They didn’t matter. When she begged him to enter her, he almost came immediately. It took effort, concentration, to hold back. Raised on his arms, he moved inside her, slowly, rhythmically, until the soft moan of earlier became quick, gasping cries. When they came together, he collapsed to one side of her, spent, exhausted.
They didn’t speak and within minutes she was asleep. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t shake the intense feeling that this woman, his friend, Jess, held his heart in her hands and she could snap it into tiny fragments without even knowing she was capable of such a thing. Her head rested on his chest; her hair spread behind her, covering him. He was afraid to move; that if he did, the spell would be broken.
Theo waited. He waited for her to fall into a deep sleep before prising her gently from him and resting her on her bed. It was quieter than his house – the woods behind him providing a cacophony at night. He crept around the bedroom, retrieved his clothes and was about to leave when he walked back to the bed. She was sleeping soundly. She had no idea, he thought, she had no idea at all what she had just done. She might as well have reached inside his chest and grabbed his heart for her own. He stared at her in the darkness, aware that he genuinely had never felt this before, that it scared him. Aware that it could probably never happen again, that scared him more. Not wanting to risk waking her, he blew her a kiss before leaving the house more quietly than he had arrived.
It was after midnight when he got in. The grandfather clock in the hall, a present from Harriet’s parents for their wedding, chimed as he turned his key in the lock. ‘You,’ he spoke aloud to the clock, ‘are leaving this house.’ He had always hated it. Now it could go to Harriet’s flat. He put some bread in the toaster, shook the kettle and filled it with water. Sex always made him ravenous. Harriet had always joked that the house stank of toast any morning after they had sex. While he waited, he walked to the corner and bent down, head poised, stood on his head.
And all he could see was her body. And all he could taste was her sex. And even when the smoke alarm went off because the bread had stuck in the toaster, Theo Pope smiled upside down from the corner of his kitchen. It would probably kill him, this thing with Jess, but not before he had lived and breathed every moment of it he could – preferably in slow motion.
He was just unfolding when he heard him, a small rustle in the doorway. Theo craned his head and saw Finn standing in between the kitchen and the hall.
‘Hey, sorry, did the alarm wake you?’ He dusted his knees and smacked his hands together.
Finn didn’t move. ‘I was waiting up for you.’
Theo felt heat threaten his cheeks, looked away. He pulled the dried toast from the toaster. ‘You hungry?’
Finn nodded and Theo put more bread in. ‘Take a seat.’ He spoke with a burnt offering hanging from the corner of his mouth. He smiled through it. ‘You wait for the next round. I’m starving.’
He knew he was talking, aware he didn’t want Finn to ask him outright where he had been so late. He didn’t. Instead, Finn seemed to be hugging himself.
‘School in the morning, so let’s not be long, eh?’ Theo waited by the toaster.
‘Dad,’ Finn said, and Theo turned to see his son gasp as if he were in pain. ‘Dad, I’m sorry but I did something stupid. I did it before you, me and Mum talked. I did it before …’
Theo’s stomach plummeted.
The house stank of burnt toast, but when Theo tried to close his eyes at 3.33 a.m., it wasn’t sex he was thinking about.
39. Jess
I awake to the sound of birdsong, reach out in the bed, and know instantly that I’m alone. My eyes have shot open, adjusted to the early morning light as my hand strokes the empty space beside me. I find myself smiling, touching my lips with my fingertips; remembering his lips on mine, remembering his lips all over my body. Normally I wake if a pin drops and I can’t believe I didn’t hear him go. Sitting up I look around, listen for movement in Rose’s room and check my phone for a text, but there’s nothing. My eyes blink at the empty screen and the reality check makes me sigh aloud. We spent a beautiful night together, Theo and I, but this isn’t the movies.
Later that morning, I’m roaming the playground at break-time with trees on my mind. Rose told me on the drive to school that she wants a Christmas tree for her birthday. According to Google, there is a nursery nearby that grows them all year round and, now that I know it might be possible to have one at all, I’m panicking in case I can’t get one by Saturday.
I hide my phone, know I shouldn’t really have it in the playground, and I’m pushing it deep into my coat pocket when I spot Rose at the far end of the green space, sitting alone on a bench. It’s not like her, so I slowly make my way around.
‘Gorgeous girl, what’s up?’
‘Nothing. Just playing.’
‘But you’re not. You’re just sitting here.’
‘People aren’t my friend.’
‘What?’
‘When I said I wasn’t having a big party, the others aren’t my friend.’
‘You wanted it small, darling.’ She told me this morning, right after her request for a Christmas tree in March, that she only wanted two friends over for her birthday.
‘You have as many as you want, Rose.’ I stop short of saying but don’t let them bully you.
‘I want to be their friend,’ she says.
My already splintered heart tears apart some more. I look around us to the place where we all learn our rules of engagement. I want to tell her, to teach her, not to give in to people, but she’s five years old, almost six, and I’m exhausted. The reality of bringing a child up all over again just sometimes hits me square in the jaw – a big fat sucker punch reminding me of the fact that I obviously made mistakes first time around.
‘Darling, you invite the whole class if you want to.’
‘Really?’ Her eyes widen and she’s already on her feet. I watch her run off into the centre of a group of ‘friends’ from her class and calm myself watching the scene by reminding myself that life is just too bloody short.
‘It’s good to have you back, Mrs P.’
I turn around and Finn is standing a few feet away, both hands in his pockets.
‘It’s good to be back, Finn.’ I give him a pat on the elbow and make to walk away.
‘Mrs P?’
‘Yes, Finn?’
‘I sent you an email. I—’
The peal of the bell interrupts and I clap my hands automatically. ‘C’mon children,’ I yell. ‘An email?’ I say to Finn, but he has moved away with the rush of the younger children, his head hung low.
After school, the tree has to wait in favour of making party invitations. Rose wants to drop one off to ‘Daddy’s’ personally, and I sit in the car while she runs up the path. I hold my breath as she stops to post it through the door, but then she hesitates and smiles widely. She’s looking through the window and the door opens. She runs into his arms and I think, shit. I thought he’d be at work and this looks as if I’ve deliberately brought Rose at a time when I thought he would be. He comes out to the car with her in his arms, an expression on his face I cannot read. He looks tired; baggage under red eyes, his skin pale and wan. He’s lost weight.
&nbs
p; I wind the window down. ‘Sean, Rose just wanted to drop off the … the invite personally.’
‘So I see.’
‘Daddy!’ She squeezes his neck with both her arms and the joy on her face at seeing him unexpectedly does not escape either of us. I look away, cannot bear it.
‘Why don’t you stay for tea, love?’ He has lowered her to the floor and she looks in the car. ‘Can I, Nanny? Can I?’
My stomach sinks. ‘I—’
Sean stares.
‘Of course you can,’ I tell her.
‘I’ll drop her back in plenty of time for bed,’ Sean says.
I nod. ‘Sean, we should talk …’ My voice is no more than a whisper.
‘Later, Jess.’ He turns and walks up the path, holding my granddaughter by the hand; holding his daughter, to all intents and purposes, by the hand.
I call Leah from the car.
‘Hello,’ she answers her phone. ‘This is your local lunatic asylum. My name’s Leah. How can I help you?’
‘That good, eh?’ I refer to the arrival of Jen, her stepdaughter.
‘Just fab-u-lous,’ she says, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. ‘Sorry I haven’t called. It’s been a bit mad at home.’
‘Can you pop in later? Maybe on the way home. I’ve a lot to tell you.’
‘I’m in the station already. In fact, I have something for you: kill two birds with one stone. I’ll see you in ten?’
When I arrive at the house, she pulls in right behind me, and before I can even open the front door is waxing lyrical about her stepdaughter.
‘Coffee?’ I ask.
‘If you give me coffee, I’ll lie awake all night thinking about how I’ve suddenly got a teenage witch in my home. Gus is just trying to ignore her, hoping it will get better, doing his best head-in-the-sand impression. How do you get through it? Was Anna as bad?’
I smile. Anna was in fact a brilliant teen, never gave me a moment’s trouble, apart from one stomach-pumping incident when she drank too much at sixteen.
‘It’ll settle down,’ I tell her, hoping for her sake that it does.
She has a large white plastic bag under her arm, which she hands to me. ‘For you. We can change the pattern if you want. I thought we should probably just do it.’
I have no idea what she’s talking about, so peer into the bag. Inside are a staple gun, enormous scissors and a swathe of red fabric.
‘It’s Anna’s favourite, was her favourite colour,’ she corrects herself with a sigh. Tatty sofa, I realize quickly.
‘I printed off all the instructions from the Internet, “Upholstering made easy”. Easy-peasy …’ She laughs. ‘Well, it looks easy, though I’m sure it’s not. I thought you and I could do it some weekend?’
‘Thank you.’ I hug her. ‘It’s a good idea.’
‘Like the colour?’ she asks.
‘I love the colour.’ I don’t, but she’s right. It’s what Anna would have chosen, so that’s good enough for me.
‘You look tired,’ I tell her.
‘I am and you look—’ She leans forward, gives me a puzzled look. ‘Your cold has shifted and you look – well …’
My cheeks redden as her eyes bore into mine.
‘Theo’s not the dad.’ I exhale a big breath.
‘Right.’ She nods. ‘And you know this for certain how?’
‘I just know.’ I shrug what I imagine to be puce-red shoulders under my jumper. ‘The phone thing and he just …’ I meet her eyes. ‘It’s not him. Look, are you and Gus busy Saturday between two and five? I need help with Rose’s party. Her entire class are probably coming. She wants a Christmas tree.’
‘You’re babbling.’ Leah laughs. ‘Did you sleep with him?’
I drop my head into my hands. ‘Yes,’ I whisper.
‘Oh my God!’ She leaps in her seat. ‘How was it? He’s a bit of all right, Theo. I’ve always thought so myself. Shit, was it good? I bet it was!’
My head still in hiding, she doesn’t wait for a reply. ‘Shit! She’s speechless! Go Nanny!’
I know without looking she’s doing that weird ‘Go whoever’ dance of hers, where she does a sort of wide stirring movement with her hands. Despite myself, my face cracks into a smile and I raise my head.
‘You should so go back for seconds. He’s made you smile.’ She too is grinning.
‘I don’t know. I’m not sure.’
‘Do not,’ she begins to say, and wags an effective finger, ‘do not go there. Do not start making excuses why not, when you should be acknowledging the reasons why.’
‘Why?’ I ask her. ‘Tell me what “whys” there are?’
‘Because he’s a good man. I’m sure he’s not perfect, but hey, flawed men are cute too. As long as you don’t have to do the whole rescue thing. That’s exhausting. Sorted, flawed men are cute.’ She corrects herself. ‘And I think Theo is sorted.’
‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘We’ve crossed a line now, though, and I think I need him more as my friend than my lover. That’s a big “why not”.’
‘He could be both, Jess. What have I been telling you lately? You need to let a little love into your life. Especially now.’
‘Tell me about the teenage witch.’ I sit back, the subject dropped, for now.
‘Ugh! She has gone from being a sweet young girl who lived with her mother and visited us once a fortnight, sweet, all the time – to being a stroppy cow who screams and shouts like a two-year-old and yells at both me and Gus at every opportunity. Seriously, if I could send her back, I would.’
‘How’s Gus with it?’
‘At his wits’ end. He’s never seen her like this before. You know he’s such a softie, so he ends up just giving in to all her moods and demands. Honestly, I’ve found him in tears over it …’ She crosses her arms. ‘He doesn’t know how to deal with her, any more than her mother or I do.’
‘She’ll have something in her life that’s making her act out. Boys, girls, school, something.’
‘You’re a great help.’
‘Sorry. Anna was a brilliant teen. It’s only after she died she became a problem.’
Leah frowns. ‘I know. It’s very confusing.’
She stands suddenly. ‘I’m going to go before I get too comfortable. Gus has dinner on. Hey, maybe we can start calling the sofa ‘Red’ rather than ‘Tatty’?’
I doubt that. Anna and I had a silly naming ceremony for it that involved a bottle of prosecco, two glasses, and both of us wedged into it.
I see her to the door and she stumbles on one of Anna’s shoes, which has fallen from the top of the pile. She looks down at it, then up at me. I can tell the words are forming – she wants to suggest that maybe I move them from the front door, but she doesn’t actually say it. Instead, she kisses me and leaves me there, wondering the same myself.
‘What is it you want, Jess?’
With Rose so tired, she volunteered herself into bed. Sean is, as usual, straight to the point.
I rub my arms. ‘To apologize.’
He laughs, a sarcastic sound, and parks himself on the tatty sofa. ‘For which part exactly?’
‘All of it. Genuinely.’ I take the chair, try to eyeball him. ‘I’ve never been fair to you when you only ever loved Anna and Rose, when you did your very best by them.’
He looks away, studies the floor.
‘I never felt you were good enough for her, when the truth was she probably didn’t deserve you at the time and what she did was wrong, very wrong.’
‘No shit,’ he whispers.
‘What I did was probably wrong, too, but please, put how you feel about me aside for a moment. I was trying desperately to do what I thought was best for Rose. Before I knew, before I knew there was a chance you weren’t her father, yes, I was being selfish trying to keep Rose with me, but understand why? I’d lost Anna. She was my world.’
The last sentence makes me have to clear my throat. Hold it together. ‘As soon as I did know, I thought I had reason to fight.
I thought it was the best thing for Rose. To be honest, I’m not so sure now. I—’
‘Do not sit there, Jess,’ his voice rises. ‘Do not dare to sit there and tell me you think you’ve made a mistake, that maybe you shouldn’t have put me and my family through this.’
‘Sean. I was frightened. I am frightened. All the time. I want the best for Rose. She’s all I have left of Anna. But you are her father. To her, you’re her father. We talked today about her birthday next week and she just assumes you’ll be there.’ My voice is desperate. I am desperate.
His eyes are heavy with tears but he won’t look at me. Instead he stands and looks out through the window at the night sky. ‘Do you know who it is?’
I know he means the real father, the biological donor. ‘No.’
He turns and glares at me.
‘I promise you, Sean. On Rose’s life, I don’t know. I’ve been bloody well obsessing about it.’ I don’t tell him what little detail I do know – that he is a married man.
‘So how, then … how did you start all this if it wasn’t someone coming forward?’
On dangerous ground, I answer carefully. ‘Anna’s papers; there’s something in there mentioning that you weren’t Rose’s dad.’ I bite my lip. ‘With Rose, I need your help. I don’t know what to do.’
He plonks himself on the sofa opposite me again. ‘You don’t know what to do?’ He runs a hand through his hair and I chew my lip watching him. ‘I can’t just drop her, just forget about her. I love her. My parents love her …’ He raises his head. ‘We all love her.’
‘I know.’
‘And what do we do with that? Eh? What am I supposed to do?’ he asks again.
‘I’m hoping you’ll keep on loving her. A big ask, I know.’
He says nothing.
‘And if, in order for you to keep Rose in your lives, if you have to take her to Blackpool, I won’t stand in your way. I’ll move north. I’ll move nearby to help, to support.’
Finally, he looks directly at me.
‘You can have her in Lytham St Annes,’ I say, with no worldly idea where these words have come from, how they’re escaping my mouth. ‘Or I can move up there with her, somewhere near my parents, which isn’t far from you. Either way. She needs you in her life.’ I stand up.
The Day I lost You Page 23