It went on for hours. Somehow I managed to pull myself together before Ruby woke up. I had to. I couldn’t let her see me like that, although I’d hardly slept and was shattered. In the cold light of morning, I felt ridiculous. I felt ashamed, as I always do after tearing myself free of its clutches. If only that was enough to stop it happening again.
Gosh, I’m really starting to wonder if I’ve gone too far with this, telling you too much in one go. Maybe I ought to start over.
Maybe.
No!
No starting over!
Move forward.
Keep moving forward.
You see? I’m fighting it right now.
You must think I’m …
Sorry about that, Sam. I needed a few minutes to compose myself. I made a cup of tea.
It’s time to move on and tell you about something else. Lighten things up.
So Rick phoned me yesterday.
‘How are you?’ he asked. ‘How’s Ruby? Anna said she wasn’t at school today. She was worried about her. Me too, of course.’
He sounded nervous. Embarrassed. Not the self-assured, relaxed person I’d first met. No doubt he felt bad about the way he’d reacted to Ruby’s injury. He’d not exactly been supportive. Useless more like.
‘Well, she has a broken arm,’ I replied.
‘Right. Oh dear. Everything went well at the hospital?’
‘Yes. It took a while, but we got there in the end.’
‘Ruby’s arm’s in plaster now?’
‘That’s right.’
There was a long pause. He was waiting for me to expand, but I didn’t feel like making things easy, so I stayed silent; waited for him to say something else.
‘Right. That’s good. The plaster, I mean. Well, not good exactly, but it’ll help it to heal.’
‘Yes,’ I said, enjoying feeling in control for once. I almost mentioned that my husband had joined us at the hospital but thought better of it. Why risk blowing things when they’d reached such an interesting phase?
‘How long is Ruby likely to be off school?’ he asked.
‘Not long. She should be back next week.’
‘Oh, good. I’ll tell Anna that. She’ll be pleased.’
Rick went on to apologise for ‘being a little squeamish’, as he put it, asking for the chance to make it up to us.
‘I’m not a bad cook,’ he said. ‘I wondered if the two of you might like to come over for some food this weekend. Only if Ruby’s up to it, of course.’
I said yes. I’m not a big fan of apologies, as I’m sure you remember, but he is gorgeous and I couldn’t resist.
We’re visiting their place tomorrow afternoon. I’ll let you know how it goes in my next letter, which I promise will be more upbeat.
Love as always,
M
Xx
CHAPTER 10
BEFORE
Friday, 3 March 2017
‘One for the road?’ Maurice mimed smoking a cigarette at Dan, holding out his two fingers and gesturing towards the door of the newsroom.
‘Go on then.’
‘Can I be cheeky?’
‘Sure.’
‘I’ll buy you a pack next week. I must owe you at least twenty by now.’
‘Cool.’
‘What are you working on?’ Dan asked his friend as they waited for the lift.
‘I’m trying to nail a good headline but not getting very far. I think my brain’s fried.’
‘What’s the story?’
‘It’s about a United fan who flew to Holland alone for the match in Eindhoven this week but had his ticket stolen and ended up watching it on TV in an Indian takeaway near the stadium.’
‘What? Couldn’t he get another one off a tout?’
‘His wallet was stolen too. It was a pickpocket job, apparently. Luckily he’d left a couple of notes back at his hotel room, but he needed those for food and the journey home.’
‘Bummer,’ Dan replied as the lift finally arrived and they stepped inside. ‘Funny story, though.’
‘I know. It just needs a nice pun as a headline.’
‘What do you have so far?’
‘Not much. I looked up the meaning of the name Eindhoven on the Internet, hoping for some inspiration, but that wasn’t a lot of help. Roughly translated from the Dutch, as best as I understand, it means “End Lands” or something like that.’
‘End Lands? That sounds a bit ominous, like somewhere you go to die.’
‘I know, right?’ Maurice said. They stepped out of the lift into reception, which was already closed for the day, and headed for the door. ‘I mean, I could probably do something like “Eind of the road” but it’s not great. All suggestions welcome.’
‘Hmm. I’ll have a think. I visited Eindhoven once, years ago. Nice place.’
When they got outside, Dan produced his Marlboro Lights. He’d always think of them as such, despite the term light long since being outlawed as an official brand for cancer sticks. It made them sound too safe, apparently, while of course they still killed you. He wondered if the youngsters called them Marlboro Gold, as they were supposed to. Mind you, not many of them smoked these days. You were more likely to see the young ones with those e-cigarettes, which seemed like a waste of time to Dan. He had puffed on one at the pub once, at the insistence of a bloke he was chatting to, but he hadn’t been impressed.
No, he was happy to stick with the devil he knew and Maurice felt the same. Idiots of habit, the pair of them, hooked long ago and too weak-willed to knock it on the head. Dan had actually managed to stop for several years after Ruby was born. And yet the desire had never truly left him. Once he’d started again – probably the stupidest move of all – that was it. Especially now he lived alone, with no one nagging him to stop on a daily basis. His only incentive to quit was the ridiculous price tag. But even that was avoidable if you knew the right people and bought in bulk, no questions asked.
‘You’d never catch any of that lot working even a minute after five, would you?’ he said, nodding at the empty reception desk as Maurice held the door open.
‘No chance. I don’t know why we do it. It must be ingrained in us. I remember my first editor giving me a lecture about not being a clock-watcher. “Journalists work long hours,” he told me. “It’s part of the job. That’s why they pay us so well.” He always fancied himself as a comedian.’
Dan laughed, stuck a cigarette in his mouth and handed Maurice another.
‘Thanks. It was him who got me smoking,’ Maurice went on. ‘Bastard. And drinking. We might have worked long hours, but there was always time for a couple in the pub. He never seemed to find much time for washing, though. People used to joke that he looked and smelled more like a tramp than a newspaper editor.’
‘The good old days,’ Dan replied. ‘There was this guy, Clive, I used to work with when I first started out. He’d been a reporter forever and was a total old soak. Anyway, the girls in the office were forever complaining about his lack of hygiene. One day my editor at the time – Alan Fitchie, if you remember him – took him to one side to have a word. He was a straight talker, Alan, and legend has it that he told Clive he ought to put all his clothes in a heap and burn them before taking a long shower.’
Maurice laughed. ‘Yes, I remember Alan. That definitely sounds like the sort of thing he’d say. What happened? Did it work?’
Dan shook his head. ‘Nope. Clive stormed out of the office in a huff, stayed away for the rest of the day and then reappeared the next morning, whiffy as ever, pretending like nothing had happened.’
‘Did Alan say anything else to him?’
‘I don’t think so. No point.’
Dan grinned.
‘What?’ Maurice asked.
‘Oh, I was remembering this time I gave Clive a lift to some meeting or another. He got in the car with this fancy leather briefcase, which was totally not his style, and I wondered what on earth he had in there. Then he opened it up and the only t
hing inside was a can of Red Bull. I guess he needed it to get through the day.’
‘Hah. I think every old newspaper office used to have a reporter like him. Clive? No, I don’t think I ever had the pleasure. He wouldn’t like it much here, would he? I swear the lack of pubs nearby was one of the main reasons they chose to move to this bloody office. They’ve done all they can to knock the journalists out of us. Turn us into robots.’
‘There’s the Red Lion,’ Dan said with a grin. ‘It’s only a quick drive.’
‘Yeah, right. That place should have its licence revoked. I’ve nothing against kids’ play areas, but they don’t belong in pubs.’ He shuddered. ‘Honestly, I’d rather have a can in the park with the teenagers than drink a pint of the piss they serve there.’
‘How about “naan too happy”?’
‘Sorry?’
‘For your United headline. It just popped into my head. You know, like naan bread.’
Maurice laughed. ‘Yes, I like it. Short and snappy. Ideal. Thanks, mate. I can go home now. Where did that come from?’
‘The big pun cloud in the sky, I guess. What are you up to this weekend?’
‘This and that. I’ve got decorators fixing up my lounge and kitchen at the moment. The place is like a building site, so I’ll probably steer clear.’
‘Yeah, you said you were having some work done.’
‘It’s costing me a fortune, Dan. I wish I’d not bothered.’
‘Why didn’t you do it yourself?’
‘You’re joking, right? I’m useless at that kind of thing. I don’t do DIY. I do BIY: break it yourself.’
Dan laughed. ‘I’m the opposite. I hate paying someone to do something I can fix myself.’
‘You mean you’re tight.’
‘That too. But no, I actually enjoy it – especially jobs I’ve not attempted before. It’s like solving a puzzle.’
‘If you say so. What’s the biggest job you’ve done?’
‘I refitted our upstairs bathroom.’
‘By yourself?’
‘Pretty much, apart from some wiring. I used an electrician for that.’
‘Impressive.’
Dan shrugged. ‘So what are your plans if you’re avoiding the house? Visiting one of your lady friends?’
‘Maybe. What about you?’
‘The only date I’ve got is with Ruby.’
‘That’s nice. Is she spending the weekend?’
‘Yes.’
‘What have you got lined up?’
‘I’m not sure yet. Depends on the weather.’
‘Nothing like a bit of father-daughter time.’
‘Hmm. She’s a bit awkward at the moment, to be honest. I think she blames me for the split.’
‘I wouldn’t worry. Kids go through phases. Spoil her rotten. That’s always worked for me.’
Later Dan drove to pick up Ruby. It still felt odd going there as a visitor; knocking on his own front door. A large 1960s detached property with four big bedrooms, two bathrooms and a good garden, it was a home he loved. The location was great too: a quiet spot in a nice small town surrounded by countryside, plus decent schools and good transport links to the city. Despite the awful thing that had happened there and the period of constant arguments that had preceded his split from Maria, Dan’s affection for the house had never waned. It had been tired and unloved when they moved in. But after a lot of hard work, mainly on his part, it had ended up perfect. There was even a downstairs study: something he’d always wanted. He knew every inch of the place. It couldn’t be more different from the grotty flat where he currently spent his nights.
Maria answered the door. ‘You’re late.’
‘Hello to you too.’
‘Well, you are.’
‘Only by twenty-five minutes, Maria. I was busy at work. Is it such a problem?’
‘She needs to be able to rely on you. That’s more important than ever now she doesn’t see you every day.’
And whose fault is that? Dan thought. Maria was the one who’d asked him to move out. He’d wanted to work on repairing the relationship.
‘Is she ready?’ he asked.
‘She was ready half an hour ago.’
Dan sighed. ‘Do you really want to do this now, Maria? For goodness’ sake. Sorry I’m late, okay?’
‘You can keep your apology. I hope you’ve got some tea sorted for her. She’s normally eaten by this time.’
‘I’m not an idiot, Maria.’
‘I didn’t say you were. It would just be nice if you were punctual for once.’
Dan didn’t have the energy to argue. ‘Whatever,’ he said. ‘I’m going to wait in the car.’
After a few minutes, he was glad to see Ruby come out of the front door with her coat on and a rucksack over her shoulder. She opened the rear door of the Focus and climbed in. ‘Hi, Dad.’
She’d started calling him that, as opposed to Daddy, soon after he moved out. It shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. Especially since Maria was still Mummy. He’d never said anything to Ruby about it and had no intention of doing so. But despite telling himself it was a natural sign of her growing up, he knew it meant more than that. Whether she was doing it consciously or not, he had no idea. But it conveyed a change in their relationship – a distancing – and as inevitable as that might be, he didn’t like it one bit.
‘Hi, darling,’ he said, leaning back to give her a kiss. ‘How are you?’
‘Good. I was doing a poo when you arrived.’
He smiled to himself. ‘Oh, right. Sorry I’m a bit late. I got held up at work.’
‘That’s okay. When are you going to fix your car door? It looks weird with that hole in it.’
‘It’s not a hole, it’s a dent. I haven’t got around to it yet. I’ll do it soon.’
‘Good.’
Dan looked at his daughter in the rear-view mirror. Her emerald eyes twinkled back at him. Her long blonde curls were tied into a neat side ponytail with a red and white clip holding back loose strands. ‘Your hair looks nice. Did your mum style it for you?’
‘No,’ she replied, as if the question was a crazy one. ‘I did it myself.’
‘Wow. I’m impressed.’
Ruby shrugged. ‘It’s easy.’
‘How’s school?’ he asked her after a few minutes of driving.
‘Good.’
‘Have you got much homework to do this weekend?’
‘A bit. I’ve already started it with Mummy.’
‘What’s it about?’
‘Well, there’s spellings and maths, like every week, but we also have to do some research about mountains.’
‘What kind of research?’
‘Oh, you know, on the Internet. We have to find ten facts about famous mountains. I’ve already done six. Mummy said I could do the rest when I get home.’
‘I see. What did you learn so far? What were your six facts?’
She frowned. ‘I don’t know. I can’t remember.’
This was a typical Ruby answer. She wasn’t big on sharing, especially about school. He was surprised she’d even told him what she had.
Sam had been the opposite at that age. She used to tell them everything: the whole day, from start to finish, as soon as she got home. If only it had lasted. If only she’d continued confiding in them as she’d grown older. Things could have been so different.
Was it good, then, that Ruby wasn’t the same? Did that mean she’d go the other way as she grew up, sharing more, rather than less? Dan hoped so. Sometimes he wanted to beg Ruby to tell him everything. To implore her never to follow in her older sister’s footsteps. But he and Maria had discussed this matter at length and they’d decided – yes, they could still agree on some things – not to put that pressure on her, for fear of pushing her the other way.
She was still young. She and Sam were so different. And yet sometimes when he looked at her he caught a glimpse of his other daughter, especially around the eyes, which were the same stri
king green. He tried not to think about Sam when he was with Ruby, because doing so was too painful. It never led him to a good place.
He switched on the car radio to divert his attention. The news was on and Ruby groaned. ‘Can we listen to something else, Dad? This is boring. Can you put Radio One on?’
‘Fine.’
He did as she asked and immediately regretted it. But he knew better than to criticise the music she liked, so he suffered in silence.
‘What do you think about McDonald’s for tea?’
‘Yay,’ she replied with a smile.
Dan had been planning to cook something at home; he’d decided to go for fast food instead to get back at Maria for how she’d treated him. It was childish, but he also knew how much she disapproved of McDonald’s and he couldn’t resist. Especially since he and Ruby both liked it.
‘Shall we use the drive-thru and take it home or would you rather eat in?’
She opted for the latter.
Less than half an hour later, they were done and heading back to the flat. The food was certainly fast, although Dan didn’t feel as full as he’d expected. Ruby, on the other hand, with the film tie-in cup she’d received with her meal, was more than happy.
‘Mummy never lets me go to McDonald’s.’
‘Oh?’ Dan replied, a little ashamed.
‘She’s says it’s rubbish, but I love it. Holly in my class goes every week.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. She has it for tea every Sunday. I wish I could.’
‘Well, it’s better not to have anything too often. That’s never good for you.’
‘What about fruit?’
If Ever I Fall Page 8