by Kate Field
‘It all looks very impressive,’ Helen conceded. Joel smiled in pleasure. ‘But we all know that some careful dressing, skilfully applied make-up, flattering lighting and camera trickery can make anything look good. How can we know this is real?’
‘Come and have a look. I was going to suggest it anyway. What about on Monday, when you’re closed here?’
Everyone agreed, except Helen, who hesitated as she wondered what to do. She did want to see Church Farm; but Monday was her day with Megan. Nursery might take her for half a day, but she didn’t want to do it. They had little enough time together. She glanced at Joel, who was watching her.
‘Will you have your daughter?’
Helen nodded, slightly unnerved that he should know so much about her, when she barely knew anything about him.
He smiled. ‘Bring her. It’s safe – all the building work is finished. She can try out the play area and meet the animals. I’m trying to make Church Farm more family friendly, so she can tell me how I’m doing.’
‘That’s a lovely idea, isn’t it, Helen?’ Fiona smiled encouragingly at Helen. Saskia was glaring at her, defying her to refuse.
‘Okay,’ Helen agreed. She had no choice, that was clear. ‘I’ll come. And in the meantime, everyone can go and visit the shopping centre. No promises,’ she told Joel. ‘It’s a look, that’s all.’
‘Understood. I can’t promise not to do everything I can to persuade you, though.’
The grin was impossible to resist. Helen’s lips began to curl up, and she was helpless to stop it. The doors of St Andrew’s opened and she saw with relief one of her customers walk in. She grabbed her plans and hurried away, glad of the chance to bury herself in zips and fasteners.
Out of the corner of her eye, as she was serving, she saw the others drift back to their shops, and assumed the meeting was over and Joel had gone. She finished helping the customer, and tidied away the rejected zips.
‘Helen.’
Joel was leaning in the entrance to the shop. He was on his way out: the laptop was stowed away in a leather satchel, and her scarf was wrapped snugly round his neck. It still suited him; but it no longer suited her to see him wearing it. She had thought he liked it – thought he liked her. According to Kirsty and Saskia, she had flirted with him over it. A fresh bucketload of embarrassment tipped over her head and trickled down her spine as she looked at the scarf now.
‘I want my scarf back.’
‘What?’ His fingers stroked the scarf with a gentleness that made her skin tingle. ‘I bought it.’
‘I’ll give you the money back.’ She opened the till. There wasn’t enough cash in there to repay him; it had been a quiet morning. She reached for her purse. There wasn’t enough cash in there either. ‘I’ll let you have it on Monday,’ she said throwing the purse back down.
‘No. I don’t want your money.’
‘Except you do, don’t you?’ Helen’s voice had taken on a queer, high pitch that she couldn’t control. ‘You want my money from renting one of your empty retail units. You were never a genuine customer. You were checking out my business, to see if I could add any value to Church Farm, that’s all.’
‘That’s why I came initially.’ Joel took a few steps into the shop. ‘It’s not why I bought the scarf. Everything I said was true. I love your work. I love this scarf.’ He put down his bag. ‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was last week. Auntie Joan asked me not to, but I wasn’t comfortable with it. I don’t blame you for being cross back there. I would have been too. I hate secrets.’ He pushed a curl behind his ear. ‘I would have told you on Saturday night if you’d stayed for a drink.’
‘I thought there must have been a reason why you asked.’ The words slipped out before she could stop them.
‘There was a much simpler reason than that.’ The cheeky smile flashed up. Helen’s breathing quickened. ‘What if I ask you for a drink now? You know who I am. There’s no hidden agenda.’
‘No.’ And in case that wasn’t emphatic enough, Helen shook her head and took a couple of steps back until her hands found the comfort of the wall behind her. ‘Buying me a drink isn’t going to make me like Church Farm any better. I’ve agreed to come on Monday. I’ll make my mind up then.’
Joel laughed softly.
‘I was hoping the drink might make you like me better. It has nothing to do with Church Farm.’
Helen let her fingers spread out against the cool stone wall. Was he asking her out? On a date? Or was she reading too much into it? She felt a faint flutter inside her, as the girl she used to be struggled to breathe again. The old Helen wouldn’t have hesitated, when propositioned by a gorgeous man. The old Helen would probably have asked him out herself last week. But she wasn’t that person anymore. She had left all that behind, the moment she had decided to raise Megan on her own. She had put away the old life, and made herself into a better person; a mother and a father; a Beefeater guarding the most precious jewel. She couldn’t be distracted by dating. And then there was Daniel. There would always be Daniel.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, more gently than she had spoken before. ‘It wouldn’t be a good idea. There’s too much going on at the moment.’
‘Bad timing?’
She nodded, relieved.
‘Not to worry.’ He grinned. ‘That means it wasn’t about me. The great thing about timing is that it’s always changing.’ He picked up the bag, and winked at Helen. ‘And Monday is a whole new week.’
‘I told you he fancied you,’ Kirsty crowed, when Helen ran into her at nursery later that day. Helen had whispered a truncated account of the day’s events while they waited for their children. Out of everything, Kirsty had homed in on this one point. ‘Tell him you’ve changed your mind. I’ll look after Megan.’
‘I haven’t changed my mind. And I still think he’s trying to butter me up so I take on his unit.’
‘A man who looked like that could cover me in any food substance he chose!’ Kirsty grinned. ‘Has he invited anyone else from St Andrew’s out for a drink?’
‘Not that I know of.’ It hadn’t truthfully crossed Helen’s mind. Perhaps he had issued the invitation to all of them, so they could get to know him better before deciding whether to move to Church Farm. Perhaps she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion – and not for the first time where he was concerned. Were they all at the pub now, talking business? Had she imagined the whole dating undercurrent, and let it tow her wildly off course? But then she remembered the wink. She hadn’t imagined that. She groaned.
‘I am definitely staying single from now on,’ she said, retrieving Megan’s coat and bag from her peg. ‘It’s too complicated. Either men have changed since I last dated, or I’ve forgotten everything I used to know about them.’
‘What do you mean, staying single? I’ve never known you as anything else. You’re so wholesome, it’s hard to give credit to all those wild tales about your past and all the men you went out with.’
‘You have to believe at least one of them.’ Helen smiled, and waved Megan’s coat at Kirsty. ‘What more proof do you need? But all that was before I had Megan.’
‘You must have read very different pre-natal books from me. Mine didn’t say I had to transform into a born-again virgin after the birth.’
Helen’s smile faded a little.
‘But you have Ben. You can make decisions together. I can’t even be a proper single parent and make decisions on my own. There’s constantly been that risk that one day Daniel would come back and judge how well I’ve done without him. So everything has been about Megan, making her the best she could possibly be. I have to prove that she’s come to no harm through what I did, through his absence. Every decision has involved thinking what he would want, or what he would do.’
‘Oh Helen.’ Kirsty squeezed her arm. ‘You’ve been torturing yourself like this for four years? How were you ever going to have a date, if you were only doing what he would have done? Unless it was with a hot blond Aus
tralian perhaps.’
Helen laughed, and crouched down as the door opened at last and Megan hurtled out towards her.
‘Hello, my lovely girl,’ she whispered, pulling Megan into a cuddle, which was enthusiastically returned. She drew away, and bundled Megan into her coat. Kirsty was doing the same with Jenny and Tommy.
‘At least now you’re free,’ Kirsty said.
‘What?’ Helen picked Megan up, and held her close, feeling the softness of her hair against her cheek. She blew on her ear and Megan giggled. It was the best sound in the world.
‘No more guilt.’ Kirsty raised her eyebrows pointedly in Megan’s direction as she fastened Tommy’s jacket. ‘Nothing to prove. He’s here and he can share the decisions. You’re free to make your own choices about what you do. Or who you date.’
Would Daniel want to interfere, and make decisions about Megan? It was all Helen could think about as she drove home. It was one thing for her to consider what he would want, quite another for him to be constantly around, telling her. And how far might he take it? A say in important choices? Regular access? Custody, even? Her stomach writhed with worry. How could she bear that? It had been her greatest fear over the years; the one reason above all others why she had continued to keep her secret, ignoring every surge of guilt. Daniel was intelligent, sensible, well-off; he had embraced the respectability that ran through his veins where Helen had spent years rebelling against hers. Despite her efforts to reinvent herself, if it came to a contest between her and Daniel, how could she possibly win? Helen looked in the rear-view mirror at Megan’s precious little face, and felt as if a whole box of needles had been jabbed into her heart.
CHAPTER 10
Daniel was late, Megan had turned into a mini monster, and Helen was stressed. Sunday afternoon wasn’t supposed to go like this.
By three o’clock, Helen had decided he wasn’t going to come. She stopped arguing with Megan about changing out of her stained Disney Princess dress, and plastic mules that moulted feathers everywhere she went; let her bring down a plastic tub of dolls; and of course, the moment the tub was empty, and the contents scattered across the carpet, the doorbell rang.
Megan didn’t even look up. Helen froze, then, when the bell rang again, got up off the floor and hurried over to the door. She opened it, and there was Daniel. Why did her heart jolt, when she wasn’t expecting anyone else? Perhaps because, until then, she hadn’t been sure he would come, or if she wanted him to come. And perhaps because it was clear from the smart jeans and jacket, and the faint tang of that unfamiliar aftershave, that he had made an effort with his appearance. For his daughter, she reminded herself swiftly. He had dressed up for meeting his daughter, not her. She must remember that.
‘Hello.’ He didn’t smile, and Helen could see the nugget of anxiety lurking behind his eyes. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so late but something came up…’
Something more important than Megan? The silent question hovered between them, but Helen let it float away. She was determined they wouldn’t row in front of Megan.
‘It’s not a problem.’ She opened the door wider and stepped back. ‘We’ve made rather a mess while we were waiting. Watch where you walk.’
He stepped in, glanced at the floor and then his gaze was drawn irresistibly to Megan.
‘I’m not here to judge how tidy you are.’
Though he would: he wouldn’t be able to resist. There had been perpetual conflict between his tidiness and her relaxed approach to housework. If only he had been here half an hour ago when she had made sure the house would meet his exacting standards! Now it looked like a plastic factory had exploded over the floor. At least he was prepared to pretend not to notice.
Helen looked round the door behind him.
‘Are you on your own?’
‘Yes.’ He looked away from Megan, briefly. ‘We thought it would be better, this time.’
Helen shut the door, winded by all he had conveyed with that sentence. By ‘we’ she assumed he meant him and Tasha; had they discussed, on their own, what might be best for Helen’s child? And what about that ‘this time’ he had so lightly slipped in? He was presuming he would be able to see Megan again, and that Tasha would meet her too, perhaps even on their own. Helen wasn’t prepared for that. It was proving hard enough to accept that Daniel might have a place in Megan’s life; but Tasha, as well? It felt about a million steps too far.
Helen picked her way across the toy-strewn carpet to where Megan was sitting on the floor. She stroked Megan’s hair, though whether she was offering reassurance or taking it was debatable.
‘Megan, this is Daniel,’ she said. ‘He’s…’ Oh God, how was she meant to describe him now? She couldn’t risk him flaring up as he had at St Andrew’s but she could hardly blurt out who he really was, either.
‘He’s a friend of mine,’ she concluded, aware of how inadequate that was even before she noticed the flick of his eyebrow.
Megan stared at Daniel impassively, then turned her attention back to the doll in her hand, with the cutting dismissal only children can get away with. Helen winced, and her eyes darted to Daniel, to see how he reacted. He was watching Megan, wide eyed, transfixed.
‘Coffee?’ Helen asked, wondering if this afternoon was going to be a disaster, and if it was, whether that would be a good or bad result.
‘Thanks, black, no…’
‘I remember.’ Did he think she could have forgotten any detail about him? She gestured at the chair, which she had cleared of her sewing. The room was only big enough for one chair and a small sofa. ‘Sit down and I’ll make it. Megan, why don’t you show Daniel your dolls?’
Amazingly, given the mood she had been in half an hour ago, Megan obediently stood up and approached Daniel. She proffered her doll to him in silence, and Helen retreated to the kitchen, leaving the door open.
‘Does she have a name?’ she heard Daniel ask.
‘Barbie,’ Megan replied. Daniel bent down and picked up another doll off the floor.
‘And this one?’
‘Barbie.’ They were all Barbie. The plastic blonde dolls were Megan’s favourites. Like father, like daughter, Helen thought, with a rueful smile.
‘What about this one?’ Helen heard amusement in Daniel’s voice. ‘Let me guess… Josephine?’
‘No!’ Megan squealed. ‘It’s Barbie!’
‘I know I’m going to get this one right. She looks like… Jemima.’
‘No! It’s Barbie!’ Helen thought she heard a tiny giggle, but when she looked through the open doorway, Megan was crouched down, picking up yet another doll. She took it over to Daniel.
‘Guess this one!’
Helen watched as he took it off her, and studied it carefully, a frown of enormous concentration on his face.
‘Lulu?’
‘No!’
‘Fifi?’
‘No!’
‘Mabel? Gloria? Trixie? Twinkle? Jane?’
And then it happened. Megan erupted into giggles. She managed to spit out, ‘It’s Barbie!’ before collapsing to the floor in near hysterics. Helen, hovering in the doorway with a jar of coffee in her hand, saw the utter enchantment creep over Daniel’s face. He looked up and smiled at her, the first genuine, warm smile he had thrown at her since they had met up again. And there was no doubting why. He was thinking, as she was, what a wonderful being they had made together, and her heart exploded with pride to read that message written so clearly on his face. But she was also thinking that here in front of her lay the truth of what she had done, to Daniel and to Megan, and it lanced her with a pain that almost made her faint. She had deprived them both of moments like this. She had never felt so uncertain of whether she had done the right thing.
The afternoon passed more easily than Helen had ever imagined it could. Megan wasn’t a shy child, and showed no hesitation in talking to Daniel, and pulling him down onto the floor to help with a jigsaw. Helen watched from the sofa, feeling oddly left out, and not liking the s
ensation. Could Megan somehow know who Daniel was? Perhaps she was too young to observe the resemblance between them; but was there some deeper bond that drew her to him? And if there was, would it stretch and weaken the bond between Megan and Helen? But as this thought was tormenting her, Megan yawned, and abandoning Daniel without a word, she climbed on Helen’s knee and snuggled against her.
‘She’s had a long day,’ Helen apologised, wrapping her arms round Megan. ‘There was a birthday party this morning.’
‘I wish I’d got here earlier. Craig took forever over lunch, you know what he’s like…’
He stopped abruptly, perhaps conscious that it had once been Helen accompanying him to lunch, not Tasha. Helen supposed she would have to get used to seeing less of that group now he was back. Yet another aspect of her life that was changing. It was beginning to feel that this house, the least favourite thing in her life, was the only constant. And her love for Megan, of course, she thought, bending down to brush an idle kiss on the top of her head. As she did, an expression of helpless envy swept over Daniel’s face.
‘Can I come again?’ He stood reluctantly, his eyes shifting from Megan to Helen.