by Lucy Daniels
There was a clatter behind them. Susan whirled round. Jack was looking down, his face filled with alarm. On the floor, lying on its side, was a large bottle. Champagne, Susan realised, reading the label. Dom Perignon, 2004. It had fallen from a built-in wine rack that seemed to be filled with other expensive bottles. Jack’s face was red and his pupils were huge and black. ‘I just wanted to look,’ he said. His voice was defensive.
Thank goodness it hadn’t broken. For a moment, Susan wondered whether Michael would shout. He looked angry, although she could tell he was trying to control himself. She rushed over to Jack and bent to pick the bottle up. ‘No harm done,’ she said, sliding it back into place. ‘Just don’t touch anything else, okay?’
Jack nodded. He seemed relieved now he knew he wasn’t in trouble. He walked over to the French doors and peered out. ‘Can we go out in the garden?’ he asked.
‘In a minute,’ Michael promised. ‘There’s something else I want to show you.’ He grinned, then led them back through into the hallway and up the stairs. Four doorways led off the landing, then there was another flight of stairs. They glanced into two big double bedrooms, each neatly made up with matching furniture and king-sized beds. There was a lovely bathroom too with an enormous bathtub, two sinks and a separate shower. ‘Heated floor,’ Michael announced. His smile was filled with pride. He seemed to be enjoying himself.
Susan thought again of Moon Cottage. Though it was tiny, it was cosy and it was home. Michael’s house seemed more like a show home. ‘Beautiful,’ she said.
Michael smiled that smile again.
‘And now,’ he announced, ‘the pièce de résistance.’ He led them through another doorway. Susan found herself in a small bedroom with a single bed. Like all the other rooms in the house, it was pristine. Michael walked over to the window, which looked out over the garden, then turned round and waved an arm. ‘This can be Jack’s room,’ he said.
Susan felt for a moment as if the floor had disappeared from under her feet. Jack was looking around the room with interest. Jack’s room? Her throat was closing. ‘Can I have a word?’ It was difficult to speak, but she had to know what Michael thought he was doing. She was a long way from being ready for Michael to have the kind of contact that would involve Jack staying overnight. She glanced round the room. Single bed with a white duvet cover. White chest of drawers and wardrobe. White desk. Nothing friendly or warm, but nothing breakable, nothing that Jack would hurt himself on. ‘Can you stay here a minute, Jack,’ she said.
For the first time, Jack looked worried, but he nodded.
‘You can look out of the window,’ Susan suggested. He moved over obediently.
Susan strode out onto the landing. Not far enough away, she thought. She stepped into the doorway of the huge front bedroom. It would have to do. She had to be able to see if Jack came out. Michael was looking at her. He was wearing his hurt expression. Memories flooded back into Susan’s mind. Whenever she questioned anything, he always looked hurt as a first line.
‘What did you mean?’ she asked. ‘Jack’s room?’
The hurt look intensified. ‘Well, you know …’ he said. ‘Down the line. Jack can stay over here sometimes. I’d like that.’ He smiled, though Susan could see there was something else behind his eyes. ‘And maybe one day,’ he said, ‘both of you could move in. There’s plenty of space.’
Not in a million years, she thought, furiously. Any remaining trust she had retained in Michael had disappeared. Hadn’t they agreed to take this slowly? He’d said he would be guided by her, but he was pushing them towards the goal he’d chosen. Worse still, he was using Jack to do it. He should have discussed this with Susan long before saying anything to Jack. Now she was going to have to deal with the fallout.
But wasn’t this Michael all over? she thought with a shiver. She’d hoped he had changed, but he was just the same. Everything had to be arranged as he wanted it. He had sent Susan away because Jack wasn’t part of the perfect life he’d planned. Now he’d changed his mind. He wanted to play at being a father. But that had to be done his way too.
Worse than that, he had decided he would move her here as well as Jack. Michael had made up his mind and she had only to agree. She wasn’t to play a part in the decision. She’d fallen right into his trap, she thought. She had spent the evening with him, drunk too much and ended up snuggling with him. Mixed messages. Hadn’t there been a part of her that wanted this? She felt sicker than ever.
She was shaking, but she had to be clear. ‘I can tell you that’s not going to happen,’ she said. ‘Jack and I are happy in Welford. We’re not moving anywhere.’ She paused. ‘You and I will not be getting back together,’ she said. ‘We had a great time the other night and I hoped you’d changed. But instead of talking to me about this, you brought Jack over here and started suggesting things I hadn’t agreed to. Now I guess I’m going to have to be the bad guy who has to tell him it’s not happening.’ She stopped and swallowed as she saw the angry look flash into Michael’s eyes. More memories tumbled back. She’d never been allowed to contradict him. Their relationship had only ever been wonderful when she complied.
‘Nobody has to be the bad guy.’ His voice was filled with contempt. ‘I’d forgotten how everything always had to be done your way.’ He was sneering now; his voice was rising. ‘You certainly didn’t make it clear you didn’t want a relationship when we were out together. The exact opposite, in fact. What made you change your mind? Was it that red-headed giant? Is he your type now?’
Susan felt heat rising. Her heart was hammering.
‘I’m not with Douglas. I don’t need to be with anyone,’ she hissed back. ‘Jack and I are fine on our own. We’re going to go now. Don’t you dare make a fuss.’
He seemed shocked that she was daring to fight. Susan glared at him for a moment, then turned on her heel, walked back across the landing and opened the door to the little bedroom, still shaking.
‘We’re going, Jack.’ She held out her hand and he took it. He looked frightened. Bloody Michael. Why had she ever thought this would work?
Michael didn’t appear as she led Jack down the stairs. He couldn’t even bring himself to come out and say goodbye to Jack, she thought. She pressed her teeth together. She couldn’t make him care about Jack. There was no way she was going to let him hurt her son, as he’d hurt her.
Once outside the house, she looked left and right, then turned towards the main road. York was not that big. She could find her way to the centre and they could go round the market as she’d suggested.
Jack had followed her without question, but when they were on the main road, his pace slowed. ‘Is my daddy mean like Harrison’s daddy after all?’ he asked. He had stopped altogether now and stood looking up at her with those innocent brown eyes. When he looked at her like that, she wanted to hug him and make all the bad stuff go away.
What should she say? This morning had been awful, but she wasn’t going to start badmouthing Michael. ‘No,’ she said eventually, swallowing her anger. ‘Daddy isn’t mean. He and Mummy just had an argument about something, okay?’
Jack nodded. It wasn’t really okay, Susan thought. It should never have happened. She should have been clear with Michael from the start. Then she should have stayed calm. ‘I’ll try and talk to Daddy again,’ she said, though she wasn’t sure there was any point.
Ahead of them, she could see Christmas lights and a couple of stalls. ‘How would you like to go to the Christmas market?’ she said. ‘I was there with Mandy last week. They had freshly cooked doughnuts.’
Jack’s eyes brightened immediately. ‘Will Santa be there?’ he asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Susan said, ‘but we can have a look and see if we can find him.’
Jack set off again. All she wanted was for Jack to be okay, Susan thought. Why is it so hard?
Chapter Twenty
Even without snow, the Christmas market was pretty, but Susan was in no mood for fairy lights. Nor could she
find any joy in the Salvation Army band, carolling merrily. The flat grey sky overhead matched her feelings exactly. Jack had been almost overly chatty as they walked. Susan wondered whether he would ask about what had happened between Michael and her, but he seemed to have adopted a brittle kind of cheeriness. She glanced at him a few times, wondering if he was masking the kind of worry that he never normally had to face. This trip, which had started out so well, had turned into a waking nightmare. She didn’t know how they were going to get home. She could ask James, but she didn’t want to bother him. Nor did she really want to start explaining herself and how they’d got here.
They stopped at the first doughnut seller they saw. Susan usually tried to restrict Jack’s sweet tooth, but the freshly made doughnuts came in packs of five or ten. Susan asked for five. Moments later, Jack was clutching a white paper bag with a slowly spreading, translucent grease mark and sucking sugar-coated fingers.
He gasped suddenly and Susan looked round in alarm, thinking perhaps Michael had followed them. But Jack was pointing at a street performer. He was in the middle of an acrobatic routine that seemed to involve a great many handstands and flips. The movements looked effortless, which was all the more amazing, given that the man was dressed in a full Father Christmas outfit, right down to a large black pair of wellington boots. Jack tugged at her hand and she looked down into his wide eyes. He obviously wanted to say something, so she leaned over.
‘Is that the real Father Christmas?’ he whispered. He sounded so awestruck that Susan wanted to laugh, despite the horrible situation they were in.
She thought quickly. ‘That’s one of his special helpers. Father Christmas can’t be in every town at this time of year, so his friends help him spread Christmas spirit.’
‘So he knows Father Christmas,’ Jack whispered, sounding almost as awestruck as if the man were the real deal.
Susan pulled her mobile phone from her pocket. While Jack was distracted, she really needed to sort out how they were going to get home. With a sigh, she flipped through her contact list and stopped on ‘Mum’. Miranda would be furious with Michael of course. She’d also be angry with Susan for letting herself be fooled by Michael again. But at least Susan wouldn’t have to start and explain the whole situation from the beginning.
‘Hello, Mum?’
‘Hello, darling!’ Miranda’s voice held surprise. ‘I thought you …’ She trailed off. ‘Is everything okay?’
Susan glanced down at Jack. He still seemed mesmerised with Father Christmas’s unexpected athleticism, but she didn’t want to get into a major conversation with Miranda right now. ‘We’re fine,’ she said, ‘but we’re kind of stranded in York. Is there any chance you could come and pick us up, please? Jack’s here and he’s fine too. I’ll explain later if that’s okay.’
‘Oh!’ There was still a trace of worry in her mother’s voice, but her tone became brisk. ‘Yes, of course. I’ll meet you in the car park near the castle in about an hour. You know the one I mean?’
‘Yeah. Thanks, Mum,’ Susan said.
The next hour was expensive. She and Jack went from stall to stall. By the time they met Miranda, Jack had drunk a large hot chocolate topped with cream and they were clinging to a number of bags containing cat Christmas cards, several wooden decorations for the tree, a packet of snowman jellies and a scarf with polar bear pom-poms on each end. Jack had remained happy at least. The bustle of the street market seemed to have done the trick. The last thing she wanted was for him to have awful memories of the last time he saw his dad. He seemed sleepy as she strapped him into the back of Miranda’s car.
Susan dropped a kiss on his forehead and he smiled. ‘Love you, Mummy,’ he said.
By the time they reached the outskirts of York, his eyes were closed.
‘Thanks so much for coming to pick us up,’ Susan said in a low voice, turning to Miranda.
Miranda took a brief glance in the rear-view mirror. ‘Is he sleeping?’ she asked.
‘Fast,’ Susan replied.
‘So what happened?’ Miranda took her eyes off the road again to take a sideways glance at Susan.
Susan took a deep breath. There was no point in hiding what had happened from her Mum. ‘I told you Michael was coming round?’
Miranda nodded.
‘Well, I had a few things planned, but he offered to bring us to York for the afternoon. He hadn’t told me, but he made it sound fun and he said it in front of Jack …’ She paused for a moment. She really had been played, she thought. ‘I thought it’d be fun so I agreed. But then he pulled up in front of a house … his house. He showed us round.’ She swallowed. ‘He had a room he said was for Jack.’
Miranda muttered something below her breath. Susan saw her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. ‘You hadn’t even talked about overnights, had you? You were nowhere near that stage.’
Susan shook her head and sighed. ‘Definitely not,’ she agreed. ‘It was only the second time Jack had met Michael.’ She closed her mouth, pressing her teeth together. Why had she let herself be pushed into the trip to York? She should have said no right away, but it had always been hard to say no to Michael. And it had sounded so harmless. Should she tell Miranda the rest? she wondered. Her mother’s expression was already grim, but she wanted to be completely honest. ‘He talked about me moving in as well,’ she admitted. ‘About us being a family.’ She stopped.
Miranda made a kind of growling noise in her throat. ‘He really is a shit,’ she said, then glanced in the rear-view mirror again.
Susan twisted her head to look at Jack.
‘He’s still asleep,’ Miranda confirmed. Her lips were pursed into a disapproving pout, but to Susan’s relief she fell silent as they drove on. She felt bad enough about what she’d put Jack through. It was gracious of her mother not to rub it in. Miranda had been wholly against Jack meeting Michael. Susan leaned her head back on the headrest. She wished she too could fall asleep, but so many things were whirling in her mind that she couldn’t relax. She was glad when they turned into the side road off High Street and pulled up beside Moon Cottage.
Susan hadn’t slept well. Memories had flickered through her mind all night. Michael arriving with the not-quite-right gifts. His grin as he’d suggested the trip to York in his sporty car. Why hadn’t she just said no? Her face had been grey when she’d risen in the morning.
Now she was standing in the reception area at Hope Meadows. It was another nursery trip. This time she had brought only half the class. Mandy had suggested they could do more if the group was smaller, so Susan and Nina had split the class between them.
To Susan’s delight, Emily Hope had also appeared, looking quite well. ‘I’m having a good day today,’ she said. Now she had a small group clustered round her, helping to socialise a litter of baby guinea pigs that had been born a few days earlier. Susan was amazed at how advanced the tiny creatures were. They looked just like miniature versions of their mum with their sweet shining eyes. They were already incredibly docile.
Mandy had brought the litter of kittens through, and she and the remaining children were sitting in a small pen as the kittens ran around.
‘Would you like to hold Frostflake?’ Mandy lifted up the little white kitten and held him out to Jack. Susan and Jack had visited several times to help out with the deaf kitten. Jack reached out his hands to take Frostflake. His whole face was filled with joy. Frostflake seemed happy too. He climbed his way up to press his fluffy white head up under Jack’s chin. His extra-loud purr sounded, as it always seemed to when he and Jack were together.
Jack looked up at Mandy. ‘Where is Frostflake’s daddy?’ he asked. His voice was quiet. Susan moved a little closer. If Jack was talking about fathers, she wanted to hear.
Mandy smiled at Jack. ‘I don’t know where Frostflake’s daddy is,’ she replied. ‘Most kittens stay with their mummy until they are old enough to go away to homes of their own. The daddy cats don’t normally live with them.’
Jack
frowned. ‘Why not?’ he asked.
Mandy glanced briefly at Susan, but she turned her gaze back to Jack before answering. ‘That’s just how cats like it,’ she said. Her tone was matter-of-fact. Susan couldn’t help but feel grateful towards her friend. Mandy had no idea what had happened, but she was always straightforward with Jack. She treated him as if he was a miniature adult, never speaking down to him, presenting the truth in an honest way.
‘Just like Mummy and me.’ Jack’s voice was quieter than ever. He too sounded pragmatic. He seemed satisfied with Mandy’s reply.
Mandy turned away and lifted up one of the other kittens. ‘Now, Armando’, she said. Would you like to hold Fiddlesticks?’
Armando’s eyes opened wide. He looked as thrilled as Jack had a few moments before. Susan’s eyes wandered back to Jack. Frostflake was standing on Jack’s shoulder, delicately nuzzling Jack’s ear. He reached up a hand and gently lifted the furry little body round onto his chest. Leaning over, he began to whisper into Frostflake’s ear. Susan smiled. Jack seemed to love chatting away to the kitten, even though he knew Frostflake couldn’t hear him. She moved closer still.
‘You’re the best cat ever.’ Jack’s hands were busy, stroking and petting. Frostflake rubbed his face against Jack’s hand, then looked up and gave a silent mew, as if in reply. Jack leaned his head closer to the silky white ear. ‘You and me are the same, Frostflake,’ he said. ‘Your daddy doesn’t live with you and mine doesn’t live with me.’ He paused, blinking a little. He didn’t seem distressed: only intent as he snuggled Frostflake in his arms, but Susan knew it must be bothering him a bit for him to be talking like this. ‘We can look after each other, though. Don’t worry, Frostflake. I’ll take care of you.’