The Truth About You, Me and Us

by Kate Field

  ‘Email me the details and your address and I’ll pick you up,’ Joel said. His dimples were out. Helen supposed it wouldn’t be too bad to turn up at the wedding with him. And it would probably have been too late to cancel Kirsty’s place now, wouldn’t it? It would save Alex the stress and bother of having an empty space on a table too. By the time Helen had taken Liz’s money, she had pretty well convinced herself that taking Joel to the wedding was entirely in Alex’s best interests.

  It was well after two before Megan finally arrived, by which time Helen had already sent three increasingly frantic text messages to Daniel wondering, asking and finally demanding to know where they were. And then, at one of the busiest moments of the day, when the choir had finished another performance and the audience had flooded into the Hay Barn, Helen spotted them through the crowd. Daniel, Megan and Tasha, strolling in together, smiling together, and looking every inch the perfect family together. Helen stared, and forgot to breathe.

  ‘Jesus,’ she heard Kirsty say close to her ear.

  ‘Not quite,’ Helen replied. ‘Just Daniel.’

  ‘And his mum needed a paternity test? Seriously?’

  ‘Not once she’d seen Megan.’

  ‘He’s gorgeous. Is it wrong to say that when he looks so like Megan?’

  ‘It’s probably more wrong for me to think it.’

  Helen passed over a crazy patchwork tissue box to an interested customer, and watched as Tasha pointed something out to Daniel on Saskia’s stall. Was it the display of rings? Helen couldn’t see past the other customers, but as she was focussing that way, Saskia caught her eye, and gave a slight tilt of the head in Daniel’s direction, an open question on her face. It wasn’t a question Helen planned to give Saskia an answer to any time soon.

  ‘Mummy!’ At last the crowd shifted and Megan saw Helen. Pulling free from Daniel’s hand – Helen could see now, with a whoosh of relief, that she hadn’t been holding Tasha’s – Megan ran over, and crawled under the table to reach Helen.

  ‘Mummy! I’ve been to Danny’s house and I ate some cheese and Valerie was there and his garden is big and he said I can have a swing…’

  Laughing, Helen scooped Megan into her arms and kissed her.

  ‘She did eat more than cheese.’ Daniel had followed Megan, and was standing on the opposite side of the stall.

  ‘And the swing?’

  He shrugged.

  ‘Why not? There’s plenty of space.’

  Unlike in her garden, Helen thought – her garden for a few more weeks, at least. She would love to have given Megan a swing – or even a garden she could properly run round. Once again Daniel was swooping in and easily providing Megan with exactly what she wanted, and what Helen couldn’t give her. Helen buried her face in Megan’s hair to hide her irritation. When she looked up, Tasha was at Daniel’s side.

  ‘Hello,’ Helen said. Her impeccable upbringing came to her aid, and she was able to find a smile. ‘Has she behaved?’

  ‘I think so.’ Tasha manoeuvred her lips into a poor imitation of one. What did that mean, Helen wondered? Had Megan been naughty? Or had Tasha not noticed whether she had or not?

  ‘She’s been an absolute pleasure.’ Valerie Blake appeared from behind Daniel. Helen hadn’t realised she was here, and bizarrely felt relieved that she was. ‘She ate most of her lunch and enjoyed exploring Daniel’s house.’ Valerie gave Helen a significant look. Helen understood it. Valerie was reassuring her that Megan had managed without her; that the first of what would have to be many visits to Daniel’s house had gone well. It was what she wanted to hear; but the relief was tempered with a sting of pain, as if one of the bonds that tied Megan to her had snapped.

  ‘Can I see Santa now?’ Megan wriggled in Helen’s arms.

  ‘I need to speak to someone first, and then we can go, okay?’ Helen had arranged to go through her crazy patchwork portfolio with a couple who lived too far away to come in during the week. They had appeared to be seriously interested in a piece for the reception area of their new office building; but judging by Megan’s cross face, it wasn’t okay at all.

  ‘I’ll take her,’ Daniel said.

  ‘Thanks, but I’d like to.’

  ‘So would I. And I haven’t had chance before now.’

  Of course he hadn’t, and that had been her fault, as his raised eyebrow and pointed tone stated so eloquently. They stared at each other, battling it out, but how could she ever win when her guilty feelings gave him the ultimate trump card? Megan was already sliding down out of Helen’s grasp – metaphorically as well as physically, Helen couldn’t help thinking.

  ‘Fine. You take her.’ Helen thrust the special ticket at Daniel. ‘She has a VIP ticket. Take it to the side door of the grotto and she won’t need to queue.’

  Megan crawled back under the table and took Daniel’s hand. He smiled down at her, his whole heart on display. Tasha had noticed too, and a ripple of sadness washed across her face. Valerie leaned over the stall and squeezed Helen’s empty hand.

  Helen watched the four of them walk away, until she realised that Kirsty was studying her.

  ‘So that’s Daniel,’ Kirsty said, in a neutral tone that was hard to gauge.

  ‘Yes. So, what’s the verdict?’

  ‘Older than I thought he would be. Late thirties, is he? But very handsome. I can see why he would catch your eye.’ Kirsty straightened the display of Kindle sleeves as a customer walked away. ‘He’s quite domineering, isn’t he?’

  ‘Domineering?’ Helen repeated. How had Kirsty reached that conclusion from a few minutes’ encounter? ‘He’s trying to adjust, that’s all.’

  ‘And he does that by bossing you about, does he?’

  ‘He wasn’t…’

  ‘Of course he was! I can’t believe you took it. You wouldn’t have stood that from anyone else. You can’t feel guilty for the rest of your life, you know. And you can’t let him make you feel like that, either.’

  Easy for Kirsty to say, Helen thought, and she turned away as she saw her couple approaching. The meeting went well, and she had arranged to prepare some preliminary sketches when Megan came dashing back in, looking like she might burst with excitement at any moment.

  ‘Mummy!’ she squealed, crawling under the table again and almost sending the stall flying. ‘Look what Santa gave me! A Hello Kitty rucksack!’

  She waved the rucksack at Helen.

  ‘That’s lovely, isn’t it?’ she agreed. ‘Santa must know how much you like Hello Kitty, mustn’t he?’

  ‘Jenny didn’t get that,’ Kirsty said, inspecting the rucksack. ‘All she got was a colouring book and some felt tips.’

  ‘Perhaps Santa knows how much she loves colouring?’ Helen suggested. Kirsty grinned.

  ‘Or perhaps Santa’s little helper arranged for a special present as well as a special ticket.’

  Helen dismissed the idea, but now Kirsty had planted it, she couldn’t dislodge it from her head. Had Joel arranged for Megan to receive a different present from the other children? When she managed to escape from the stall, and took Megan outside to watch a candlelit procession through Church Farm, complete with a real reindeer, she looked around at the other children but didn’t see another backpack like Megan’s. Perhaps it was true – and if it was, she needed to thank Joel, but there was no sign of him amongst the crowds.

  Daniel took Megan home again after the procession, as Helen still had to man the stall for another half hour and then tidy up. The choir had gone, and most of the visitors were making their way home too. Helen left Kirsty in charge and headed off to search for Joel. She toured the whole of Church Farm, and had reached the conclusion that he must have gone home, when she noticed the light on in his office. There was no reply to her knock, and she peered round the door. Joel was sitting in the chair behind his desk, so she walked in.

  It was only when Helen was in front of him that she noticed he was asleep. Under the bright office light, she saw now what she had missed when they had m
et in the Hay Barn earlier: shadows of exhaustion ringed his eyes, and tiny frown lines left their mark between his eyebrows. An unexpected swell of tenderness rushed through her.

  Slipping out again, she went over to the Feed Store and bought a coffee. She left it on his desk, in case he woke up, and was on her way out of the office, quietly she thought, when she heard him speak.

  ‘Helen.’

  His voice was husky with tiredness, but as she turned round his smile was automatic: only half a smile, though, as if it didn’t have the energy to spread up to his eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, taking a few steps back towards him. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve brought you a coffee.’

  ‘Thanks. Is it too late to claim that I actually wasn’t asleep at all?’

  ‘You’ve been well and truly caught.’ Joel stood up and stretched. His shirt rose above his belt, exposing a patch of taut flesh. ‘Don’t worry, your secret is safe,’ Helen said quickly, forcing her gaze back up to his face. ‘I won’t tell all the hardworking stall holders out there that the fat cat landlord has nothing else to do but sleep.’

  ‘Fat cat landlord!’ He laughed, and sat down again. Helen drew nearer, irresistibly pulled forward, and sat on the edge of the desk next to his. ‘I can’t be too offended by that, coming from someone who likes cats.’

  ‘Megan likes cats,’ Helen corrected him.

  ‘And your smile is as big as hers when you look at those kittens.’

  ‘Okay, Sherlock, I can’t deny it’s an inherited passion. I’m a confirmed cat-woman.’

  ‘Now that’s quite an image to wake up to.’

  And there it came, the full-dimpled cheeky grin, strong enough to overcome any degree of tiredness. It acted like a magnet, pulling Helen’s lips into an answering smile every time.

  ‘Talking of Megan,’ she said, swinging her legs backwards and forwards, ‘did you arrange for her to get a special present from Santa? A Hello Kitty rucksack?’

  ‘Did she like it?’

  ‘She adores it. Shall I take that as a yes?’

  ‘A partial yes.’ Joel drank some of his coffee. ‘Liz chose it. I thought she’d have a better idea of what girls like. What little girls like,’ he clarified, laughing at the unspoken comment on Helen’s face.

  ‘It was a lovely thought. Thanks. You must have had more than enough on your hands arranging the market.’

  ‘Do you think it went well?’ It was no polite question: as Joel looked at Helen, there was a twist of anxiety in his eyes.

  ‘Yes, it must have done. It looks fabulous, and I was so busy I could hardly leave the stall all day. Even Malcolm was seen to smile this afternoon, and I can think of no greater endorsement. Surely you’re not doubting the success of Church Farm? You’ve always seemed so confident about it.’

  ‘If I’m not, who else will be?’ He leaned back in his chair, playing with the curl that fell over his ear. ‘Planning and organising this market was a lot more stressful than I expected. It’s taken more time and money than I could spare, and it could all have been for nothing if the weather had been worse, or if no one had come.’

  ‘Did you have no one to help? What about Liz?’

  ‘There was only a limited amount she could do when she lives in London. My other sister, Ruth, is a potter and lives on the Scottish coast near Oban. She has no organisational skills at all; her idea of helping with the market was to send down a crate of pots to sell. And Mum and Dad have the enthusiasm but not the energy these days.’

  ‘And your friends?’

  ‘They’ve been here today, but they all have their own jobs to do.’

  ‘So do you.’

  ‘Yes, and I’m finding that doing two jobs at once seems to involve at least four times as much work. But I have to do it.’ His fingers rubbed a slow streak across his forehead. ‘Church Farm isn’t only about my parents’ past. It’s their future too, their pension pot. If I screw up, they have nothing.’

  Helen moved across and perched on Joel’s desk, in front of him.

  ‘You won’t screw up. You’ve done a fantastic job today.’ She reached out and pulled his hand away from the curl he was torturing again. His hand closed round hers so briefly that she might have thought she’d imagined it, but for the ripple that rolled from her fingers through every limb. ‘You should have called me. I’d have helped. Friends, remember?’

  ‘I remember. But you have enough on.’ He slowly studied her face. ‘You already look like you’re having too many sleepless nights.’

  ‘Says the man whose eyes are surrounded by so many shadows it’s a wonder they don’t need a torch to see out.’

  ‘We make a good pair, don’t we?’

  It wasn’t said flirtatiously; and his smile was warm, not suggestive. But there was something in the way Joel looked at her, a look of understanding and of tenderness that stretched like a cord between them, which reached inside Helen and teased into life a response that she had never known with any man before. And long after she had picked up Megan and returned home, the feelings were still there, faint but clinging on to life.

  CHAPTER 20

  After the perfect conditions of the Christmas market day, the weather grew progressively colder and cloudier, until on Friday the first flakes of snow began to fall. Megan thought it was thrilling, having no concept of the danger this weather posed to the planned trip to Disney on Ice the next day.

  Helen phoned Daniel when she brought Megan home from nursery at the end of the day.

  ‘Have you seen the weather?’ she asked. ‘It’s snowing.’

  ‘Is it?’ She heard movement, as if he was getting up to look out of the window. ‘Are you sure? It isn’t snowing in Manchester.’

  ‘The forecast is for even more tomorrow, and the Midlands might be the worst affected. The BBC has issued an amber warning.’

  ‘It will be a precaution. They always predict the worst now so they don’t get caught out.’

  ‘But we don’t want to get caught in bad weather so far from home.’

  Daniel laughed.

  ‘When have you ever let the weather stop you doing what you want?’

  Since she’d become a mother, she could have said, but she could tell he wasn’t giving her his full attention. And Disney on Ice was hardly something she wanted to do. It was entirely Daniel’s plan: he had told her to leave all the arrangements to him.

  ‘You know how important tomorrow is,’ he continued. ‘We’re not cancelling it unless the car is buried ten feet under a snowdrift.’

  Helen hung up. She was still uneasy about the weather, but she’d known even before she had spoken to Daniel that there was no way he would change the plan. He had decided – and she had agreed – that this would be the weekend they told Megan who he was. They would have the day out together on Saturday, then he would come over on Sunday morning and they would tell her. It had been inevitable since the Christmas market. He had loved having Megan for the day, and wanted it to happen more often. He could hardly have been plainer: either they both spoke to Megan, or he did it himself. Helen’s time had run out.

  By Saturday morning, a couple of inches of snow lay on the ground. Daniel arrived earlier than expected.

  ‘The main roads are fine,’ he said, before Helen had even asked. ‘It’s only the side streets where the snow has stuck. And the sun’s out – it will soon melt.’

  ‘But the forecast…’

  ‘We’re going,’ he interrupted. He glanced over at Megan, resplendent in her Cinderella dress, who was busy packing dolls into her Hello Kitty rucksack. ‘I’m not letting her down again.’

  By the time they reached Birmingham, another inch of snow had fallen and the flakes were becoming heavier all the time. They stopped for lunch and, though Daniel was trying to make the best of it, his fingers tapped relentlessly on the table as he looked out of the window. He only relaxed when they arrived at the Arena and Megan was sitting in her seat, happily waving the flashing plastic wand he had boug
ht her from the souvenir stand. Helen could tell what he was thinking: he had promised Megan that he would take her to Disney on Ice, and here she was – job done. Helen wondered if she was the only one to spare a thought for how they were ever going to get home.

  It was dark when the show finished, and as soon as they stepped outside they realised their problem. Snow had fallen heavily throughout the performance, and even the main roads were now covered. The cars had carved out two grooves in each direction, and were crawling along, tail to bumper. It was going to take them hours to make it home. Daniel checked the travel news on his phone, and Helen could see from the drumming fingers that the news wasn’t good.

  ‘One lane of the M6 is closed because of the snow,’ he told her, ‘and there’s already a four-mile queue heading north. We’ll have to try a different route.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Helen clutched Megan’s hand. ‘If the motorway is bad, won’t the minor roads be even worse?’

  ‘It’s probably lorries blocking the M6. I’m sure we’ll find a quieter route.’

  They piled back into his BMW, and Daniel set the sat nav to find a route avoiding the M6. Their progress was slow but steady at first, as they crawled along with all the other cars, and Megan didn’t stop chattering about the Disney Princesses, and flashing her wand. But when Daniel followed the sat nav’s instructions to turn off the main road, the traffic thinned out, and the marked tracks in the road became harder to follow. And then Daniel turned left, the car skidded, and came to a halt at a 45˚ angle towards the kerb.

  Daniel tried rocking the car backwards and forwards, and pulling on the steering wheel, but it was no good. They were completely stuck. Megan was silent, and Helen could see her wide, terrified eyes shining from an eerie fluorescent face as the wand continued to flash on and off.

  ‘Bloody rear-wheel drive,’ Daniel said, thumping the steering wheel. ‘It’s useless in the snow.’