Two-Hundred Steps Home Volume Four

by Amanda Martin

  For her, I guess it has. Claire turned to stare in the direction Sky’s father had gone and saw him lean in to kiss a woman pushing a pram. He linked his arm through hers and bent to say something to the child deep in the buggy. Despite the busy farm bustling around them, the connection was close and private. Claire felt like an intruder.

  Oh Sky, I’m glad you didn’t see that. What could make a man leave his child? I guess too many men run off and leave the woman literally holding the baby. But to start a new family, and not stay in touch with your own daughter: What kind of monster does that? Claire’s brain searched for the worst word she could think of, so bad she couldn’t even say it in her mind. That’s what he is and Sky’s better off without him.

  ***

  TWENTY-NINE

  The car felt warm and comforting after the chill of Lavender Farm and the unexpected encounter. Claire looked across at Sky eating her ice cream; her face still showed red mottling from crying, but her eyes were calm. Kids are amazing. I’d still be crying now, if that wanker was my father. She could see her niece’s eyes were heavy and thought a sleep in the car would do her good.

  Claire programmed in the SatNav and reached forwards to attach it to the windscreen. Movement in the rear-view mirror caught her eye: It was Chris. She tried to ignore his gestures, but his demeanour dragged her attention. He looked as if he was signalling for her to come out the car by herself. Intrigued - and not unwilling to go and give him a piece of her mind away from listening ears - Claire sat back in the seat and dramatically slapped her forehead.

  “Sorry, Sky. I just remembered I left my mobile phone in the shop. Will you be alright here in the car for a moment, if I just run in and get it?”

  Sky looked across with fear in her eyes and Claire’s stomach lurched. I really shouldn’t leave her alone, after the shock she’s had. I can hardly take her with me and use all the words I want to use though.

  “How about if I lock the doors? I’ll be back before you finish your ice cream.”

  After a moment, Sky nodded tentatively and pushed down the button on the door next to her. Sky reached over and locked the others, making sure she had the keys in her hand before she left the car.

  It felt good to stalk over to the man who had broken her sister and niece’s hearts. Words of heat and wrath built like fire in her throat. She felt tempted to start shouting before she reached him, but he stood with his arms at his side and his head low. I want to look in his eyes and see that he’s hearing me. Besides, if I start screaming like a fishwife across the car park, Sky might hear.

  She stopped three feet away from him, arms folded. Let him start. I want to hear what the bastard has to say to excuse his behaviour. Silence stretched and Claire ached to fill it with hot words. Somehow she knew the quiet was hurting Chris more, so she maintained eye contact and waited for him to speak.

  “I had no choice.” His words fell between them, as if he’d pushed them out with effort.

  “Bollocks. Everyone has a choice.”

  “I…” He stopped and ran his hand through his hair. Claire noticed it was thinner than it used to be. “I wanted it to work. With Ruth. And Sky. And I loved them both, really. But Ruth –”

  Suddenly Claire didn’t want to hear it. She’d only ever heard Ruth’s side of the story; honesty compelled her to confess that might have been skewed. Her body language must have given her away because Chris reached out a hand, before letting it drop once more to his side.

  “Don’t go. Hear me out, please. Maybe you can help Sky, a little. I saw the pain I caused her.”

  “Then why did you reject her? Not stay in touch? Run off with her fucking ballet teacher.” It felt good to shout at this weak man standing before her. To swear with precision and relish and watch him flinch as the truth struck him like pellets of ice.

  “Because I wanted to be a Dad more than anything!” The words came out in a rush. “And Ruth wouldn’t let me. Sky was her precious daughter. From the minute she was born it was her and Sky. There was no room for me. She wouldn’t let me do anything – feed her, bathe her – I was barely allowed to touch her. Then, when she started school, Ruth became paranoid something was going to happen to her. I don’t know what she thought would happen. She went almost crazy with it.”

  He stopped. Whether because he had run out of words, or because he realised telling Claire her sister was crazy was not perhaps the best move, wasn’t clear.

  “Then I met Bryony. She understood. She taught Sky, knew how clingy Ruth was. I asked her for advice, initially. Then we got talking and, well. You know the rest. We have a little girl of our own now, and she’s mine.”

  “Sky’s still your daughter.” Claire didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t want to feel sympathy for this man. She didn’t want him to have a reason that made sense. She just wanted him to hurt and be sorry.

  “Ruth didn’t want me to stay in touch. She said it would be better just the two of them. I send Sky birthday cards and Christmas cards but I don’t know if they get to her.” He inhaled deeply and wiped his hand across his face as if rubbing away the pain. “She’s looking well. I’m glad to see you taking her out in the world. Ruth keeps her too close. Sky doesn’t need me.”

  Claire tried to think before speaking, to decide what to do, to interpret how she felt. Despite her best efforts, she could relate to what Chris had said. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to see Ruth in that role. Their own parents had been so distant and uncaring, it seemed highly plausible that Ruth wouldn’t want to let Sky out of her sight. She turned and looked back at the car, but couldn’t see inside.

  “I have to go, Sky will wonder where I am. Try again, Chris. Try harder. Ruth…” She inhaled, then made a decision. “Ruth’s sick. Real sick. Sky might have need of you. Don’t make her an orphan if it comes to that.”

  She watched as all the blood drained from Chris’s face, much as it had from Sky’s earlier, and felt a certain satisfaction. Digging into her purse, Claire retrieved a business card and held it out to Sky’s father. He looked into her eyes as if trying to understand her actions, then took the card and held it without looking at it.

  “If you need to reach me, or want to speak to Sky – at least for the next week – you have my number. We’re staying in Hunstanton for the weekend.”

  Before he could say anything, find an excuse or backtrack, Claire turned and strode back to the car, her heartbeat hammering loudly in her ears.

  ***

  THIRTY

  Claire watched Sky lean over the glass barrier and reach down to stroke a seal. Her arms were too short and she nearly toppled over into the water. Concerned, Claire stretched out a hand, but the girl had already dropped back onto her feet. Her blonde hair streamed out as a sharp wind blew in off the sea. She had tried to convince Sky to let her tie it in a ponytail, but apparently she hadn’t the knack of it.

  “Mummy doesn’t pull so much. You’re hurting me!” had been her response. Claire had decided a couple of hair grips would have to do.

  She reached over and stroked the soft, golden hair. I wonder when hair stops being so silky-smooth. Or maybe she’s just blessed with beautiful hair. Not like my unmanageable mane.

  Trying not to attract Sky’s attention, Claire carefully scanned the sea of faces surrounding them. She knew it must be past eleven, because the seal-feeding had started. Please don’t let me down. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.

  Salty spray carried on the wind stung her eyes, making them water. The smell reminded her of long, carefree, holidays.

  Not that Hunstanton on a Friday morning bears any resemblance to the South of France or Miami or any of the beaches I’ve visited in the last few years. I wonder what the Maldives smells like. I bet the briny tang there doesn’t have to compete with ketchup and hotdogs, cheap perfume and decapitated fish.

  Claire watched as the woman in charge of feeding tossed several bloody carcasses into the water. The seals, so cumbersome on their pl
atforms, dived gracefully and darted forward to retrieve their food. Claire’s mind drifted back to the day before, and the conversation in the car park of Norfolk Lavender.

  As much as you can’t judge a seal by how it is on land, you can’t judge a break-up by the ranting of one person. There had been a look in Chris’s eyes that had made Claire believe his version of events. Besides, I know Ruth. That’s exactly what she would do. The only reason she has let me take Sky, and isn’t ringing every five minutes, is because the chemotherapy is taking all her energy. Even so, she received text messages from her sister several times a day, wanting to know where they were and whether her daughter was happy.

  I wonder what Ruth would do if she knew about the phone call I had this morning. Chris had rung before breakfast, asking if he could meet up with Sky before they left the area. While her niece was occupied watching Dora Explorer on the iPad Claire had arranged for them to meet at Sea Life. It felt safe, a place where father and daughter could talk.

  “Claire!”

  The sound cut through the low hubbub of the crowd and a rippling revealed Chris’s location as he made his way through the press of bodies. It took a moment for Claire to realise he was pushing a pram. Oh god, he’s bought that damn woman and the baby. What an idiot.

  Her face was thunderous as the man approached. He stopped and looked up, his face beneath Claire’s, as she stood on a platform with Sky. Eyes burning, Claire looked meaningfully at the pram and then over Chris’s shoulder, as if expecting to see the woman he left her sister for lurking in the distance.

  “It’s alright, Bryony isn’t here. I wanted to bring Eloise. I thought Sky should meet her half-sister.” His voice was muted, but Sky was only an arm’s reach away and she turned at the sound.

  “Daddy! What are you doing here?” Her face lit like a firework then fell dark as she remembered his behaviour the day before. Chris threw Claire a glance and she flushed, before raising her chin in defiance.

  “No, I didn’t tell her you were coming. What if you’d decided not to show?”

  Chris nodded, accepting her reason, and reached his arms up to Sky. She hadn’t noticed the pram and her father swiftly pulled her into an embrace before waggling his eyebrows at Claire. He nodded down at the pram then signalled to say he was leaving the child with Claire while he took Sky off to talk.

  Claire felt paralysed with shock. What the hell? Her eyes tried to scream at Chris. You can’t leave me with your baby, for Christ’s sake! I know nothing about babies. She wasn’t sure about him going out of sight with Sky, either, but figured if he’d left his other daughter behind he was unlikely to abduct Sky.

  As he carried Sky away through the huddle of people craning to watch the seal feeding, Claire stared down at the pram and swallowed the taste of sick swimming in her mouth. I need coffee. The café is by the door. If I wait there I’ll see if he takes Sky out the building.

  Reluctantly, Claire walked round to the front of the pram and looked inside. The baby was asleep, its little face smooth and perfect in slumber. You sleep on, little Eloise, there’s a good girl.

  Claire gulped down the hot coffee and ignored the caffeine as it buzzed through her veins on a direct path to her brain. It was her third cup and her hands were shaking slightly, like autumn leaves rustling in the breeze. She didn’t notice because she was too busy trying to stop Eloise from shrieking. The tranquil infant resting deep within the pram had lasted as long as her first latte. She had been forced to remove the infant and jiggle her on her knee while she drank the second. By the time the third arrived, Claire was ready to pass the baby to the next stranger who glared at her, and make a run for it.

  “What. Do. You. Want?” She bit the words out quietly through gritted teeth, knowing full well Eloise couldn’t respond even if she understood the question.

  Claire searched through the bag hanging off the pram, hoping for a dummy or a bottle of milk. Something – anything – to silence the screaming child. She found a bottle but it looked like it held only water. Peace descended briefly as she offered the bottle to the child, but it was replaced moments later with an ear-splitting yell, as the offending bottle was pushed away. Another rifle through the bag produced a tub of powder, but for all Claire knew it was teething crystals or talc for the baby’s bottom.

  How dare Chris go off without leaving any instructions?

  Abandoning the coffee under the growing ire of the other customers, Claire placed the baby in the pram and wheeled it back into the depths of the Sea Life centre. She could feel people staring as she pushed the wailing child through tunnels, past tanks of turtles and sharks, and out towards the penguins. I’m an idiot. I should have agreed how long Chris could spend with Sky and where to meet afterwards. His arrival with the baby had caught her by surprise.

  Eloise’s cries dropped to a gentle roar with the motion of the buggy. Claire muttered soothing words in her general direction as she searched the crowds for sight of her niece. Panic fluttered in the pit of her stomach and she couldn’t decide what she feared most – not finding Sky again or being left with the baby.

  She turned a corner and saw a giant pirate ship half sunk into the sand. A woman dressed as a pirate was standing with a group of children, handing out treasure. Claire caught sight of loose-flowing golden tresses and released her terror in a rush of air.

  “Sky! Where’s your father?”

  “Over here,” a voice responded, and Claire turned to see Chris watching the children, his face inscrutable.

  “What the hell are you doing tucked round here? You’ve been ages. Your baby has been screaming for half an hour and I don’t know how to make her stop.”

  Chris looked up, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand. “Oh, I figured you’d be fine. Women love babies.” He saw her expression and his face paled. “Don’t they?”

  “Not this woman, thank you very much. We’re not all earth mothers you know. I understand more about a profit and loss ledger than I do a screaming infant.”

  “Oh. Better pass her here then.”

  Chris reached for the crying bundle of purple skin and snot and cuddled her against his shoulder, while deftly searching through the bag for the bottle of water and tub of powder. He held the bottle between his knees and unfastened it, then flicked open the tub of powder and tipped it in. Within seconds the lid was on, the bottle was shaken and a small amount applied to the back of his hand. Before Claire had time to sit down, baby Eloise was nestled in the crook of her Daddy’s arm happily gulping down milk.

  “Okay, I’m impressed.” Claire smiled at Chris, feeling her anger drain away.

  “I’ve had practice. Bryony couldn’t feed Eloise herself,” he shuffled uncomfortably, “… though she wanted to. We share the load. I could probably mix a bottle in my sleep.”

  “So, have you and Sky had a chance to talk? She looks happy enough.”

  “Yes. And thank you. It must be fate that let me bump into you yesterday. I have missed her.”

  “Why didn’t you go and visit, when you thought the cards weren’t getting through?” Claire observed his profile as his eyes never ceased watching Sky.

  “I didn’t want to rock the boat. I had no idea what Ruth had told her, about me and Bryony. And how to tell her about a half-sister she probably doesn’t want?”

  “Have you told her now?”

  Chris nodded, then looked down. The bottle was nearly empty. Claire was amazed at how quickly the baby had drained a full bottle of milk. As the last dregs disappeared, Chris raised the baby to his shoulder and gave her a practised pat on the back. A loud burp escaped the child, much to the amusement of the children nearby.

  Sky turned at the noise and saw her father cradling the baby. Claire watched her reaction, ready to step in if need be. She looked shocked, then a smile spread wide across her face and she raced up to where they sat against the fence.

  “Is that your baby, Dad? Yours and Bryony’s?”

  “Yes, Sky. This is Elois
e, your half-sister.”

  Sky reached out and stroked the baby’s face, before turning to Claire, her eyes swimming with tears.

  Oh dear. She’s just found out her father doesn’t hate her, and now she has to give him up to a new sister. Angry feelings squirmed in her stomach and she felt regret swarming up inside her, accusing her of causing Sky more pain by inviting Chris here. Then Sky reached forwards and planted a kiss on the baby’s forehead. Eloise giggled.

  “I have a sister! Claire, I thought it would always be just me and Mummy. But I have a sister!” And the tears streamed down her face. Shining, happy tears.

 

  ###

  This story is continued on Amanda Martin’s daily blog at https://writermummy.wordpress.com

  Download Volume Five now

  If you enjoyed this e-book, please leave a review.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Amanda Martin was born in Hertfordshire in 1976. After graduating with first class honours from Leeds University she wandered around the world trying to find her place in it. She tried various roles, in England and New Zealand, including Bar Manager, Marketing Manager, Consultant and Artist, before deciding that Writer/Mummy best summed her up. She lives in Northamptonshire with her husband, two children and labradoodle Kara and can mostly be found at https://writermummy.wordpress.com and on Twitter or Facebook.

  Also by Amanda Martin:

  BABY BLUES AND WEDDING SHOES

  Amanda’s latest release, the chick lit novel Baby Blues and Wedding Shoes is available now.

  5 out of 5 stars “Wonderful, engaging story”

  “Wonderful, engaging story by a talented writer. Pleasantly surprising depth in a plot which one might have initially assumed would be a predictable meet-cute, boy meets girl, happily ever after. A more thought provoking story evolved than expected in the beginning. Author has a nice way with descriptive words which makes one feel nearly in the room. Readers with an appreciation for a bit of reality and a bit of hopeful romantic wishful dreaming will not be disappointed by this lovely tale. Well done.”