‘Oh. Did he? Such a shame. Divorce at that age. It's good that they're keeping things civil for the children.’
Divorce? Children?
‘Dylan has kids?’
‘Dylan?’
‘Dylan Ball?’
‘Why did you think I meant Dylan? I’m talking about Jack Bayliss.’
‘Oh,’ I drag out the word. ‘You saw Jack?’ My mind pictures a six foot, sixteen-year-old with spiked blonde hair and bright green eyes.
‘Yeah. In the supermarket with his children. He’s two daughters, four and three. He looked lost, bless him. Like he couldn’t cope. He could do with someone else in his life if you ask me. His wife’s got another fella already. I’m not sure if that’s why they split. I told him about Kid Zone and he said he’ll take the kids there on his weekends with them.’
My heart rate leaps. ‘Is he bald?’
My mother raises her nose in a sneer and looks at me as if I’m cracked.
‘What? No, he’s not bald. He’s twenty-one—with a fine head of hair. Good looking lad with quite a bicep I tell you.’
‘Mother,’ says Tyler disgusted.
‘I’m forty-five, not dead. Even though I’ve got your dad, I still like to perve at totty.’
Tyler covers his ears, ‘Lalalalala.’
‘Anyway. He owns his own building company. Even though he’ll have maintenance to pay, he’s still quite the catch.’
Dad pipes up, ‘For God’s sake will one of you give your mother a grandchild before she pinches one from someone else.’
Tyler and I shout out in horrified unison.
‘I’m only twenty-one.’
‘I’m only twenty-four.’
‘No excuse. I had both of you by twenty-four. Well, he’s a lovely bloke and he comes complete with two beautiful children. You’d not even have to ruin your figure having any of your own. He comes ready-made.’
Tyler snorts.
‘Leave them alone, Dora. They’ll find their own way, as we did. Our Camille can do better than a bloke divorced with two kids at twenty-one.’
Mum pouts. ‘Well, I’m only forty-five. We might have another one.’
My dad chokes on his dinner. My mother rushes to get him a glass of water while I pat his back.
‘So we’re coming Saturday 18th to celebrate and help you with your Opening Day.’
‘For real? The three of you?’ I look pointedly at Tyler.
‘Yeah. I’m coming to shit in the ball pool.’
‘Tyler!’ says my dad.
‘Well, you’re bound to make loads of new friends there. Plenty of children with a similar brain to yours.’
‘The babies you mean? We'll all be fixated on women’s boobies.’
‘Grow up.’
‘You grow up.’
‘Children,’ says my dad.
‘I’ll stay behind after and help you clean up,’ adds my mother.
‘I’ve got a cleaner Mum, let her do it. She’s getting paid.’
‘You understand, don’t you?’ My mum bites her lip.
‘Mum. I wouldn't expect you to leave your job. I can only pay minimum wages until I get more established anyway. That's no good to you.’
‘If it wasn't for my pension I’d work with you.’
‘No. It’s better this way. On my own.’
My mother leans over and strokes my cheek. ‘Always so independent. I remember you looking at the Argos catalogue when you were twelve years old, picking out furniture and bedding for when you got your own place.’ She turns to my brother. ‘I’ll fetch you a copy tomorrow.’
Chapter Four
Mother Nature was my friend because as I open Kid Zone on Saturday 18 July to a full house, it's pissing it down. I have to turn people away as we are at capacity. The cacophony of noise is comparable to a busy shopping centre at Christmas. I offer free ticket vouchers to the people I have to turn away which turns disappointed faces into happy ones. My mother has yet to leave my side. I think she's going for Salesperson of the year. She has a gleam in her eye as she holds court. I can't believe how many people she knows. With a smile, she distributes fifty pence off future visit vouchers to guests and tells them all how proud she is of her daughter. Ninety percent of the people she speaks to say she doesn't look old enough to have a daughter my age. My mum flicks back her blue fringe, touches their arms and thanks them. Today she's wearing leggings, a short purple skirt and ankle boots. On top, she has a black tee under a black waterfall cardigan. I scan my own jeans and Kid Zone tee shirt before shrugging. My job here is to mingle and work. Mum can flirt with the guests.
Tyler and my dad have yet to move from their seats. No doubt scared if they vacate they'll lose them. Tyler is sipping a blue slush puppy through a straw. I watch and snicker as he receives a brain freeze. He's such a dork. My father stares at my mother as she gesticulates with an older guy who's brought along his ten-year-old son. The bloke seems to have forgotten he's brought his son with him. My dad’s eyes move and meet mine. He rolls his skywards. I laugh and then turn to my mum and touch her arm.
‘Mum. Dad’s looking lost.’
‘Oh don’t be silly, Camille.' She shrugs her head at the man then addresses me. 'He’s with Tyler. They are enjoying a man-to-man talk about independence.’
That's hilarious as my dad can't do anything without my mother's permission. 'If you're trying to persuade Tyler to leave home you need a bomb not a chat,' I reply.
'Kids,' she says to the man, as she rolls her eyes.
‘Is this your daughter?’ says the man with the ten-year-old. His jaw has dropped.
‘Yes. I’m proud of her. She owns this business.’ She strokes my cheek.
‘You don’t seem old enough…’
Oh God, here we go again.
Mum releases a booming laugh. 'Well, I had my children young.’
The man smiles. 'I meant your daughter looks young to own a business.'
Pahahaha.
‘Mum, I need you to help me with the coffee machine. Excuse me,’ I say to the man and I steer my mother away.
She shrugs off my hand. ‘I could have got rid of him myself you know.’
‘Well, you didn’t appear in a rush to get away.’
‘I wasn’t.' She winks at me. 'It’s ages since a man flirted with me. I was enjoying myself. Plus, your dad watched my every move. With luck, he'll realise I’m not a piece of household furniture.’
I sigh but my mother doesn’t notice. She’s too busy waving at someone. ‘Jack. Jack. Over here.’ She beckons.
Have you ever had someone you fancy leave your life? Then in the years that follow imagine what they've done or how they look? You hope beyond belief that if you see them again, they won’t have turned ugly or have forgotten how to wash. I hear my mum say Jack and close my eyes. What if he's lost his pop star looks and total hotness? There's a sharp pain in my foot. Eyes now open and downcast I see my mum's heeled boot lift off my shoe. With a deep breath, I glance into the face of Jack Bayliss. He's so fit he should be renamed Olympic. He’s filled out so now, besides his height, he has wide shoulders and corded arms. My eyes trail from his green eyes, working down and dip to his abdomen. He’s wearing a tee shirt that is just tight enough to show what’s hiding underneath the material. Jeans weld to his rock hard thighs. I’m so lost in lust I drop my discount vouchers.
‘Here, let me.’
I back away as he bends over to help pick up the vouchers and Oh my God—that butt. Encased in dark blue denim, each cheek resembles an over-sized blueberry and I bloody love blueberries. ‘Ow.’ My mother’s trodden on my foot again. I take the collected vouchers from his outstretched hand.
‘Hi, Jack,’ I say.
He extends both arms and enfolds me in a hug. Fucking hell. My nipples tighten as I’m squished next to those abs. This is an adolescent dream come true. My crush began at thirteen and at twenty-one I’m getting up close and personal.
‘When your mum told me you were opening this place,
I couldn't place you. Your name was familiar, but I knew so many people from school. It's hard to remember everyone, isn't it? Soon as I came in, I realised who you were.’
My smile slides off my face. Couldn’t place me? I was in his year for five years. I was Camille Toe for fucks sake. The whole school knew who I was. But not Jack. I notice children tugging at his arm.
‘So who are these gorgeous children? They must look like their mum.’ It’s a low blow, but he’s fucked me off. The kids are the image of Jack and the height of cuteness.
‘I’m Molly and I’m four.’ Molly holds up four fingers. She looks so pretty with long blonde hair that falls in waves. She has on a floral party dress and thick tights. ‘I’m going to big school.’
‘Wow. I can see you’re a big grown-up girl,’ I say.
‘My Mummy and Daddy aren’t together anymore,’ she adds.
‘Mummy thinks Daddy is a poo-poo head,’ says a mini version of Molly. The mini version and her big sister giggle.
‘Geri. What have I told you about name calling?’
‘No rude words.’ Geri wags her finger. Mummy says bastud, is that ‘kay?’
'No, it isn't,' he shouts.
‘Don't yell at Geri. Tell mummy off. She says it.’ Molly pouts and puts her arm around her younger sister.
Jack raises his right hand to his forehead and exhales. He looks at me, and then my mother. ‘Girls!’
‘You started early. I can't believe your eldest is four.’
‘Yeah. Well, Susie neglected to tell me that although she’d collected her contraception, she wasn't taking it. Hence, I’m divorced at the grand old age of twenty-one with two children.’
‘Two adorable children,’ says my mum. ‘I’ll take them over to the ball pool while you two talk.’ She doesn’t wait for a response and scuttles off. Molly and Geri skip alongside her.
‘I can’t believe you’ve got two kids.’
‘No, half the time neither can I. At least now I get some time to myself.’ He pauses. ‘That sounds horrible, I know. I love them to bits and can’t imagine life without them but, I still feel a kid myself. Since the divorce, I can let off steam. You get me?’
‘I did. University was fabulous for getting rip roaring drunk. These days? Not so much. Responsible businesswoman now, you know.’
‘Well, that won’t do.’ He takes his phone out of his pocket and taps keys. ‘There, put your number in my phone.’
I take a minute to recall the digits but do as I’m ordered. He takes it back from me. ‘There. Now I’ll call you to arrange a date. You can teach me how you get rip roaring drunk.’
‘Okay. Sounds good.’ I have a date with Jack Bayliss. Oh my God.
‘What sounds good?’ I turn and like a bad smell, Dylan has turned up. He doesn't have children. Why is he here?
‘Dylan.’
‘Jack.’
They fist bump.
‘So what sounds good?’ Dylan repeats.
‘Rip roaring drunkenness with our Camille here.’
Dylan leans towards Jack. ‘Oh. Can anyone join in? I could do with getting smashed.’
‘Well on this occasion it's just Jack and me. We need to catch up, don't we?’
Jack shrugs at Dylan, ‘Sorry, you heard the girl. Wants me to herself.’
I smirk at Dylan while Jack isn’t looking.
Dylan's head lowers. 'Right.'
A loud shriek of Daddy reaches our ears. We turn to see Jack's kids wave at him. Jack winces. ‘Right, well I’ll rescue my two from your mother. I’ll see you next week sometime.’ He leans over and kisses my cheek. My fingers replace his lips. He moves away and I watch the cheeks of his arse caress the seat of his jeans.
Dylan sneers. ‘Thought you’d have grown out of that.’
‘Out of what?’
‘Your massive crush on Jack. He’s a dickhead.’
‘When I want your opinion I’ll ask for it. He was polite and attentive. You could learn lessons in friendship from him.’
‘Yeah, he was a good friend to Susie. Do you remember Susan Clarke? His ex-wife.’
I gasp. ‘Susan Clarke. His ex-wife is Susan Clarke?’
‘Susie. He re-invented the quietest girl in the school. Susie the floozie she's known as now.'
I picture the Susan Clarke I know in my head. Drab brown hair and always wore clothes to match. Not picked on, just not noticeable. Dylan seems to read my mind.
‘Forget what image you have of her. She was hiding prize assets under those smocks and now she uses them to remind Jack what he’s missing.’
‘Why did they get divorced?’
He shakes his head. ‘I don’t know for definite. There were rumours of cheating on both sides. I wasn’t interested enough to listen to all the gossip.’
I blanch. ‘Anyway, good of you to come along but you realise this building is a play centre don’t you? No-one over twelve in the play areas.’
‘I’ve brought my nephew.’
‘Oh yeah? Where is he then?’
Dylan brings his hand around his front. I’d not realised it was behind him. As he does, he meets resistance.
'Come on Max. Meet Camille. She'll not shout at you, it's Uncle Dylan she's cross with.' A small boy with a shock of red hair emerges from behind him. He sees me, sticks his thumb in his mouth and whimpers as he throws himself around Dylan’s leg, his face tight to Dylan’s trousers. ‘Max say hello to Camille.’
Max shakes his head to the negative while not moving away from Dylan’s leg. Dylan reaches down and prizes him off. He lifts him up and Max nuzzles his head into Dylan’s shoulder. ‘Shyest kid in the world, my nephew.’
‘Aw. How old is he?’
Max turns his ear a little so he can hear our conversation.
‘He’s just turned two. My sister didn’t realise, but he’s not been around other kids much. Adults yes, as my parents have him when she works, but she hasn’t had time to take him to play centres or tots groups. She tried one about a month ago and he screamed the whole time.’
I raise my index finger. ‘Hold on a moment.’ I tell Dylan as I head to the counter. I return with a small chocolate bar. ‘Max. Do you like chocolate?’
His small head turns around just enough to eye the chocolate, and he nods. I hold it out to him and small fingers grab it.
‘He’ll get used to the other kids. I know where he’s coming from. It's been a shock for me too Max. I didn't understand how noisy children were. Well, I’d better carry on making my introductions. Why don’t you get your sister or parents to bring Max down when the kids go back to school or if it's hot in the holidays? It’ll be quieter then. He’ll get his confidence up. Here.’ I hand Dylan some vouchers.
‘Good idea. I've got two weeks off in the holidays. I might bring him myself.’
'What?'
‘No need to act so surprised. I like spending time with my nephew and there’s a good reason he hasn’t been to a play centre. My parents can’t stand other people’s children. They had all on with us two.’
‘So how is Kelly?’ Dylan’s sister was twelve years older than him and often came to pick him up from school.
‘Married and three months pregnant with niece or nephew number two.’
‘Oh, that’s great news.’
‘Yes. They tried for a while to conceive Max. Not that I wanted that piece of information from her. So she didn’t want to hang around with trying for another.’
I stroke Max's back. He doesn't flinch. ‘He’s a cutie. Anyway, I must go.’
‘Yeah, no worries. Say thank you for your chocolate Max, and then say bye.’
‘Ta, choc-choc.’ Max then gives me a tiny wave.
Dylan looks proud. ‘Big gesture there from my little man. You’ve won him round.’
‘Great thought but much more likely to be the chocolate.’ I leave him and Max to it.
I find Beth next to the ball pool with Trey. ‘At last. Talk about a bloody man magnet.’
My eyebrows cr
ease. ‘What’re you on about?’
‘Jack and Dylan. I thought Dylan might punch him.’
‘What? Don’t be silly. Anyway, I have a date with Jack.’
‘No? A date? You lucky git. I wouldn’t mind a turn with him. Maybe you could set me up with Dylan then. I could do with re-acquainting myself with some male flesh.’
‘Dylan? Are you mad?'
'Desperate.'
'Well, he says he’s coming here in the holidays with his nephew so you can make a move then.’
‘Oh, not just a ball pool—a dating pool too. I think I'm in love with your new venture.’
I smile at Beth. She deserves love and lust.
As I picture her with Dylan, I get a weird pain in my chest. It must be trapped wind from too much coca cola.
Chapter Five
The first week of opening is exhausting. I put in every possible waking minute at Kid Zone. The school holidays are living up to their usual reputation and being dismal and damp. I’m still turning people away from the door, this time with a discount voucher for their return. Parents pay deposits for their offspring’s upcoming birthday parties. With Halloween and Christmas to come, there's plenty of opportunity for promotions. This eases the mental pressure as I know that the first few months of business will be okay. When I collapse into bed late at night, often so tired I don't even change into my pyjamas, it's with a smile on my tired face.
Beth and Dylan got chatting last Friday, and she took the plunge and asked him out. He accepted. Their first date is set for this coming Friday—the same day I’m meeting Jack. Beth thinks this idea is fabulous. Me, not so much.
It’s Monday, and the sun has come out. But the discount vouchers and newness mean the centre still appeals and we stay busy. I do though have time to sit at a table with Beth near the under-five’s section while her son Trey throws coloured balls out of the ball pool with a look of glee.
Beth speaks quickly. ‘So my mum is babysitting although like Cinderella I need to be back by midnight.’
'It's Dylan. You might have had enough after ten minutes.'
'I know he was a twat to you at school but he appears so nice now.'
Balls (Ball Games #1) Page 3