‘So…’ she said, taking the cup of tea that Mollie handed her, sitting in the chair opposite.
‘So… which answer do you want first?’ Mollie said tiredly, her eyes checking the sleeping child.
‘Which question am I going to ask?’
‘She’s Jamie’s.’ she said simply. ‘Her name is Esme. She’s a year and a half.’
‘Where’s Jay?’
‘Gone,’ Mollie shrugged, ‘his parents shipped him off after they found out and I’ve never heard anything since.’
‘It can’t have been his choice,’ Evie said stubbornly, ‘he’d do anything for you.’
‘Well, it’s not like I’ve been hard to find, have I?’ she snorted.
‘Actually, when you think your mate is studying in Bristol, you don’t tend to go hang round her mum’s house in case she turns up. Why didn’t you tell me?’
Mollie shrugged, massaging her temples, ‘You were off to a new, exciting life – you and Chelsea and Ruby before that. I didn’t want to hold you back.’
‘I don’t buy it.’
‘I didn’t want the pity.’
Mollie’s gaze was steely and she dared Evie to say anything.
‘So what’s the plan?’
‘Work hard, save hard, give my little girl everything I can, make the most of a mother who doesn’t work so I get the childcare and then get the hell out of here.’
‘To go where?’
‘Anywhere that’s better than here,’ Mollie said simply, sipping her tea, determination in her eyes. Evie visited every day that summer, and even came back some weekends after university started again. Mollie and Esme were the only decent thing that Badgeley had to offer, and she had promised herself she would help them get out too.
***
After making dinner, which Evie couldn’t eat as she still felt so guilty, she set up Esme in her room and checked on her every thirty minutes until the little girl told her to calm down and leave her alone.
Evie focused on cleaning the kitchen, dealing with every small edge and polishing their very few glasses and pieces of cutlery. She washed the floor, and had just started cleaning the oven when Mollie stormed in.
‘What the fuck happened today?’ Her hair was even bigger than usual, the curls having been run through and frazzled with her fingertips.
‘Everything’s fine, we had a little incident–’ Evie started, holding her yellow-gloved hands up.
‘Everything is not fine Evie, could you stop pretending things are fine! I just spoke to Killian downstairs!’ Mollie flung her bag on the breakfast bar and put a hand on her hip. ‘When were you going to tell me? Were you even going to tell me?’
‘You weren’t home yet!’ Evie pulled off the rubber gloves and threw them on the side, not sure if it was the guilt or the fumes that were making her feel sick.
‘You could have called! Left a voicemail, something to keep me in the loop about our lives!’ Mollie’s voice was getting more high pitched.
‘What was I meant to do?’ Evie yelled back, ‘Leave a voicemail saying “Sorry Molls, lost your daughter, oh no, wait, found her again, no worries!” and leave it at that?’
Mollie’s jaw dropped, her eyes widened and she whispered hoarsely, ‘You lost Esme?’
‘Very briefly, she wandered off and I found her, and I was going to tell you tonight, look!’ Evie pointed at the bottle of Mollie’s favourite wine sitting on the kitchen table.
‘And when were you going to tell me that we don’t really have six months on the lease?’
Mollie’s voice seemed to echo around the room and Evie felt her heart thump desperately in her chest.
‘I can explain.’
‘For you to hide that from me, to put mine and Esme’s lives at risk just because you wanted to come here and play artist in the city… I honestly had no idea you were so selfish.’
Her light eyes were grey and cold as she shook her head.
‘I can fix it! I promise I can fix it!’
Mollie looked at her like she was a child, ‘You can’t fix everything Evie. Just because you want something to work doesn’t mean it will. I just… I need to not talk to you for a while. I need to figure out what I’m going to do to save my family, because you put us at risk.’
Esme was standing in the doorway, adjusting her glasses, ‘Don’t be mad at Evie Mum, it was my fault. I was bored and I wanted to be helpful, so I walked off to find stuff for the studio.’
‘We’ll talk about it in our room,’ Mollie said, walking across to her daughter and taking her hand, without a backward glance for her friend.
Evie didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t sit inside with that energy and guilt bubbling up as she listened to Mollie’s soothing tones through the door, telling her daughter that Auntie Evie was a failure and a selfish cow, no doubt. And maybe she wasn’t wrong. She stood in front of the canvas she’d worked on the evening before, thinking about how it would be better as a three-dimensional project, made from found objects., but her brain couldn’t hold onto the ideas for long enough to do anything. That sizzling in her stomach, the worry, was overwhelming. She decided to go for a run, probably not the smartest thing to do in Camden at night, but she knew she needed it. It was summer, still light in the evenings, and if something bad happened… well it was probably no more than she deserved.
She ran down the stairs to the studio, checking for the huge key that would thump against her chest if she put it around her neck. She decided to wrap the cord around her wrist instead. The door opened and Killian was standing there, a soft smile on his face.
‘How’s Esme?’ He leaned against the doorframe like they were friends now, but obviously all of this had been a plan to get them out. The sneaky bastard.
‘She’s fine. Her mother is pretty fucking angry with me, seeing as you told her the lease was shorter than I said. Using something I said when I was panicked and terrified that I’d lost a child. Nice.’ Evie started to walk away.
‘Hey, I told her you’d just found that out, and you were stressed and to be nice to you. I thought I was helping you out!’ His back straightened and his voice was louder. A small part of Evie longed for the confrontation, to shout at this man and feel better, but she knew it wouldn’t help at all.
‘Sure, of course you wanted to help. When we both know that if Mollie leaves, I can’t do this by myself, and you get your empty studio back, just the way you want. Convenient.’
‘I can’t believe you, I was trying–’
‘–to use my moment of weakness to destroy the only real family I have. Just because you don’t like to share.’
Killian’s eyes flashed, ‘Well if you were so worried about it, maybe you shouldn’t lie to the people you supposedly love.’
He slammed the door and she was left wanting to scream, to bang against the door and demand he come back so she could shout at him. But the problem was, he was completely right.
Chapter Seven
Evie woke the next morning, unsure of whether Mollie and Esme would still be there. She found a neatly written note in the kitchen.
I can’t find alternative childcare, the only reason I’m letting you look after Esme today. Try not to set her on fire or get her abducted. I will be back in the afternoon. Mollie.
Evie swallowed the lump in her throat. Mollie had never been mad at her. Mollie was never really mad at anyone.
‘So, lady, what do you want to do today?’ She put a joyful lilt into her voice, leaning on the breakfast bar as Esme stumbled in, bleary-eyed and yawning, stretching up to her tiptoes. She was wearing pyjama bottoms with unicorns on, and a pink t-shirt with The Ramones on.
‘Mum at work again?’ the little girl huffed.
‘Yep, afraid you’re stuck with me. But I’m better than your nanny, I think, so… juice?’ Evie wiggled the juice carton and Esme shrugged, climbing up onto a bar stool.
‘You know, Mum will calm down,’ Esme said suddenly, placing a small hand over Evie’s.
‘I don’t know kid, I haven’t upset her like that for a long time.’
‘She’s just scared. Mum’s not an adventurous person. I think she’d like to do the same thing day after day, forever.’ Esme said wisely, sipping at her juice.
‘Is that how you see her? I always thought she was full of adventure. She had you.’
Esme shrugged, ‘She just doesn’t want to go back to Nanny’s. I don’t want to either.’
Evie closed her eyes briefly, ‘I know, and I’m doing everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen. But, I think today should be about you, seeing as I ignored you yesterday. So what do you want to do?’
‘Gallery stuff? If you’re going to let me help today?’ the child said pointedly, raising an eyebrow and gazing at her godmother with a judgmental look.
‘Nope, I’ve decided that the gallery can wait one day. We’re going to do something you want to do.’
Esme sighed and thought about it, scratching her head. ‘I think I would like to make a cake for Killian, to thank him for being nice and helping you find me yesterday.’
‘Really?’ Evie frowned, her heart sinking, ‘I meant, like, did you want to go to the zoo or something.’
‘Evelyn said that creative ventures are about making contacts and making friends,’ Esme said sagely, sipping at her orange juice with her pinkie finger sticking out. ‘And he works here too, we should make him be nice to us again. We don’t have any friends here.’
‘Well, we could go to some kids’ event so you can make friends?’ Evie said hopefully.
Esme shook her head and rolled her eyes, ‘We should be nice to him because he was nice to us, we need to… what is it they do with puppies? Reward good behaviour.’
The little girl pushed up her glasses and nodded distinctly.
‘With cake?’
Esme sighed, as if dealing with adults was just too difficult, ‘Everyone loves cake. People can’t be mean to you if you gave them cake.’
Evie considered it, ‘Fair point. Okay, let’s bake something.’
Evie’s stomach clenched, thinking perhaps she could just send the little girl down to give him the cake herself, but since yesterday, she was not letting her out of her sight. She would just have to bite her tongue and deal with it. She had bigger problems than a grumpy carpenter.
A few hours later, Esme was hovering in front of Killian’s door, holding onto a very clearly homemade red velvet cake, covered in chocolate ganache, with the words Thank you (I’m sorry I caused problems!) iced in white icing on the top. Esme paused, looking up at Evie.
‘Do you think we should just leave it here?’
‘Just… on the floor, outside his door?’ Evie frowned.
‘What if he doesn’t like it?’
‘I’m sure he’ll like it,’ Evie said, sounding more sure than she felt, but holding onto the image of his kindness the day before, the way he’d spoken to Esme like she deserved to be spoken to. Like he could be caring. ‘He’s not a monster.’
‘He’s not?’ The door opened and Killian’s voice was clear, he could obviously hear them through the door. He looked down at the cake, Esme’s hopeful face as she proffered it, then stared at Evie.
‘Whose apology is it?’
Evie jutted her jaw and said nothing, breathing deeply.
‘Me!’ Esme said, ‘I was silly and made Evie worry and now my mum’s mad at her, and I wanted to say thank you for helping her because she’s working really hard for us and I love her and don’t want her to be sad.’
Killian chuckled slightly, ‘Laying it on a bit thick kid, maybe you should make your aunt a cake instead?’
‘Yeah, but she’d have to help me make it and that would be no surprise.’
‘So I get cake by default?’ He shook his head, smiling at her, ‘It was really no problem helping your aunt. I think I probably got her in more trouble than my help was worth.’
Evie met his eyes suddenly and, to her surprise, saw an apology there. She felt herself staring and stepped back a little. He had addressed Esme the entire time.
‘Well, then maybe you could make her a cake,’ Esme said, grinning.
‘I think poisoning you all is probably not a good idea,’ Killian laughed, taking the cake from the girl carefully. ‘After all, I’ve been promised loud and exciting events in this studio. That hasn’t happened since Ruby was here. It would be a shame if you left before I got to see what all the fuss was about.’
He held Evie’s eyes again, his light blue eyes boring into her as she blinked rapidly. Slowly, she nodded, understanding what he was saying, as Esme babbled on about all the plans they had for the space.
‘Well, I better get back to work. Thanks for this.’ He held the cake up awkwardly.
‘And we better get back to work too,’ Evie said, nodding, feeling like she needed to say something else, but having no idea what. It wasn’t until they got back to the flat that she realised she should have said the simplest and hardest thing of all, I’m sorry.
***
‘Why are you wasting your time?’ Ruby rolled her eyes, cigarette poised between bitten fingernails.
‘With what?’
‘Nigel,’ Ruby spat the name, eyebrows raised in disbelief, ‘I mean, babe, seriously? You’re a fittie. He’s a fifty-year-old in a sixteen-year-old’s puny body. He tried to talk to me about trainspotting last week. Trains!’
‘He’s all right,’ Evie shrugged, ‘better than those arseholes you bother with. He won’t hurt me.’
‘So you won’t bother loving anyone, then?’ Ruby sighed like it was all too obvious, leaning back on the grass and staring at the sky. Her skirt looked crumpled and she still had on eye mke-up from the night before, which made her look a little dangerous.
‘What?’
‘If you don’t get hurt, you don’t get love. Them’s the rules babe. What’s the point if there’s no risk?’
Evie snorted, ‘Well, I’d rather be alone in that case.’
‘Then be alone. Don’t string along some poor, sad dickhead who has no chance of breaking you.’
Evie looked at Ruby, who wasn’t even looking at her, but tracing cloud shapes with a fingertip, reaching out above her as the cigarette trailed smoke. The terrifying thing was that she might have been right.
‘Boys fall into types. There’s the kind, sweet ones, like Nigel and Jamie. There’s the lads who’ll leave you for the next thing that comes along with an open mouth. There’s the ones who lie because it’s fun to get away with it. And there’s the ones who control, who use how much you love them to destroy you.’ Evie shrugged, shuffling back on the grass.
‘You think you’re gonna turn out like your mum,’ Ruby said simply, ‘sorry babe, you’re too much of a bitch to be a doormat.’
‘Oi, that’s my mum,’ Evie sat up, frowning at her friend. Ruby smiled and raised an eyebrow.
‘Did I lie?’
‘Not the point.’
‘And no defence for you? Mum’s not a doormat but you’re a bitch, and that’s okay?’ Ruby shook her head.
‘I am a bitch. It’s been officially declared by the staff. I’m impulsive and selfish and don’t care about anyone but myself.’ She looked at the clouds, finding the shapes in them easily. An elephant, a dancing girl, a diamond, a gun.
‘Then why are you here with me?’
‘Because it’s a nice day and there’s no point wasting it in IT lessons.’
‘Then why did you give me this?’ Ruby held up the pot of sparkly red nail polish and waved it at her.
‘Because that colour doesn’t look right on me and I thought you’d want it,’ Evie shrugged, ‘if you don’t want it, chuck it away.’
Ruby sighed and leaned back again, ‘You’re the only one who knows it’s my birthday, and you know I fucking hate it. But you were still here for me. And you gave me something without it being a big, horrible, birthday thing.’
Evie huffed, ‘So what?’
‘So, you can’t alwa
ys be the big bad wolf, dickhead. Sometimes it’s okay to be nice.’
Evie pulled a mushed cupcake out of her bag, ‘I suppose that means you want this sad excuse for a non-birthday cake?’
‘See, not a bitch,’ Ruby reached across and stroked a dark curl, her green eyes smiling. ‘You are nice, Evie Rodriguez, that’s not always a weakness.’
***
That night, Mollie came up, nodded at Evie when she saw her sitting with Esme on the sofa, and walked through to her bedroom without saying a word.
‘How do you get out of it when your mum’s angry with you?’ Evie whispered.
The little girl looked at her sadly, packing up her book to go through to her mum, ‘Normally I just say sorry and cry. I’m adorable and she can’t stay mad.’
Evie snorted and nodded, ‘Fair enough. Have a nice evening. Tell your mum there’s food on the side if she wants it.’
Esme nodded seriously, patting her hand and walking off.
Evie was at a loss. Sure, there were a hundred things she could do, but she didn’t feel right, sitting there in this flat they shared, knowing Mollie was metres away and still mad at her, not talking to her, hating her even. Evie grabbed her notebook and slunk downstairs to the studio, hoping that it was late enough that Killian had gone home. There were too many apologies to give and she wasn’t sure she could face any more shame.
She curled up on the chaise longue, holding her sketchbook to her chest, and realised there was music coming from Killian’s workshop. It sounded ghostly, ethereal. She paused, then upon hearing the faint sounds of a soulful voice, she realised it was Jeff Buckley. Evie closed her eyes, tracing out the lyrics that she’d mouthed along to as a teenager, then opened her sketchbook and began to draw.
It was nonsensical, nothing special, her hand just moving to the music, remembering and thinking as she shaded and sketched. Thinking about Ruby, and whether she would have been happier if they’d stayed in touch, if everything would have been different if she’d just walked up to her after that show in London, thrown her arms around her and said, ‘hey, babe, it’s me!’ She thought about Chelsea, and whether changing her name had been difficult, whether that person she loved knew there was a piece of her missing. She tried to remember any time Mollie had been angry before, and all she could come up with were Linda’s multiple indiscretions, the ways in which she’d put Esme at risk. She tried to think of ways to make it up to her. And she thought about a man who worked until late in the evening and had hated the idea of her, but had still helped her when she was panicked, had tried to help her further and been burnt for his efforts. A man who was prickly as hell and seemed to have history with her dead friend. A man she needed to apologise to. Just one more person in a long line.
Goodbye Ruby Tuesday Page 10