‘Anyway, this isn’t a night to talk about work’ he reminded her. ‘You know what I’d love to hear about instead?’
What?’ she smiled.
‘I’d love you to tell me all about your family instead.’
And for once, miraculously, she didn’t clam up.
‘Well, not much to tell you really. I told you my sister’s in town at the moment …’ she broke off though, not saying why, or for how long.
‘What does she do?’ Jake asked her innocently.
But Eloise neatly evaded the question and instead, started telling him a bit about her mother who lived in Marbella.
‘And every time I see her, which isn’t nearly often enough, I swear to God, the woman is blonder, more suntanned and even more glam than the time before. Don’t get me wrong, life in the sun suits her down to a T, but … I just wish I could make more time in my life for her.’
‘You must miss her.’
‘Course I do.’
‘So, then do something about it! Come on, you must have years of stored-up holidays due to you from work, so instead of just wondering about her, take time off and go and see her. Hop on a flight with that sister of yours and just go. You’ve only the one mammy in this world.’
But all she did was roll her eyes heavenwards.
‘Jake,’ she drily reminded him, ‘need I point out that holidays are for retired people and not for the likes of me?’
‘One day you’ll change your mind,’ he told her firmly. ‘One day you’ll have all the quality time you want to travel and see people you care about and – perish the thought – actually start to enjoy your life for a change.’
She looked wistfully out the window at that, as though miles away, that heart-shaped look she got in her black eyes whenever she was thinking about something, or someone, else.
She was holding something back on him, and something important too; Jake would have staked his life on it.
Another guy, maybe? Someone from her past who’d broken her heart to shards? No, somehow he didn’t think so. It just didn’t ring true for her. Eloise wasn’t the ‘crawl under a duvet with a large jar of Nutella and a bottle of Chardonnay to drown your troubles’ kind of gal.
So what, he found himself dying to know, was she thinking right now? What was suddenly making her come over all wistful and far-away?
Jake would have been very surprised, if he’d only had the guts to ask. Because as it happened, she was thinking about him. About how long it was since she’d been taken out, wined and dined, treated like a proper lady. All day long, she was surrounded by upper-class college graduates, all from impeccable backgrounds, with degrees and masters hanging out of their earlobes and they were nothing but rude, bitchy, bullying and on several occasions per day, downright vicious behind her back. And yet here she was, sitting across a table from a convicted criminal from the roughest part of the city, a man who never behaved like anything other than a perfect gentleman towards her.
Could he even see how moved she’d been at the beautiful flowers he’d given her? Ridiculously expensive, she knew, and he could ill afford it, but somehow he felt she was worth it. Jake, she thought, taking another sip of wine, was lovely. That was the only word to describe him. Just lovely.
Then her phone rang and of course it was the Post. Who else?
‘Let it go to voicemail,’ he told her sternly. ‘For God’s sake, just give yourself an hour off to eat and then get back to whoever it is. You’re surely allowed have a meal break? Jeez, even in prison we get those.’
She looked up at him, thought for a second as though weighing it up, then gave him a happy grin, clicked her phone off and began to eat hungrily.
PART THREE
ELOISE
Chapter Nine
Good news. Lily, thanks be to God, Allah, Buddha, Santa – anyone up there who listened to me – has ended her obsession with going up to total strangers in parks and on buses and asking them if they’re her dad. Course the odd time she’ll still crawl into my bed early in the morning for a cuddle and a little chat, then completely out of left field, in her early morning croaky voice she’ll ask me, ‘have you found my daddy yet, Mama? You’ll find him weally soon, won’t you?’
And I’ll pull her in tight to me, kiss her, tell her that Mama never makes promises she can’t keep and faithfully promise that one day she’ll get to meet him. One day.
By the way, to great jubilation from every single one of my colleagues at work, I’ve now shifted our first editorial meeting of the morning to a far more civilised nine a.m. start, mainly so that Lily and I can get to share these precious mornings together. Sod the whole lot of them in work, I figure; I’m making more time for Lily and if they don’t like it then as Jake says, they can feck right off. Helen gets to spend the rest of the day with her, but early mornings are mine, all mine. And it happens far, far less often than it used to, but Lily still sometimes stuns me by letting something slip that shows just how clearly the whole dad subject weighs on her little mind.
The other day being a case in point. Lily waddled into my bedroom just before seven, clambered up and snuggled into me, still warm and woozy from sleep and telling me all about a dream she had where she accidentally got locked into Smyths toy store for the night and had the best time of her life, till police came to rescue her the next morning and found her sleeping inside a Wendy house. Then, just as I was drowsily hauling myself out of bed and asking her if she’d like porridge or fresh fruit for brekkie while she was, as usual, demanding Coco Pops, suddenly she looked at me with those wise little eyes and out of nowhere said, ‘Mama, how come some kids have two daddies and I don’t have any?’
Well, that woke me up. And when I got to the bottom of it, it turned out that a little girl called Daisy she’d befriended in the park has not only a biological dad but now thanks to her mum’s remarriage, a stepdad too. So I give Lily my first line of explanation about how all families are different then proudly tell her that yes, I can safely promise that someday we’ll find her dad. That she’ll get to meet him properly. Well her round blue eyes, eyes so like Jake’s it would nearly astonish you, instantly brightened at this as she flashed me that gorgeous, gappy little smile, then happily scrambled down to the kitchen with me for breakfast.
You just wait, my little darling, I thought smugly to myself. You just wait till you see the rare gem that Mama is prepping for you. Because finally, finally, finally now my cunning masterplan is almost in place. Come the fine day, when I eventually think the time is right for Lily and Jake to meet, what’ll she find waiting for her? A tall, handsome, fair-haired, well-spoken teacher, with her exact size and shape eyes, same fair, freckly skin, same crinkly, slightly crooked smile. Someone Lily can be proud of and look up to, like all little girls’ dads should be.
Like I say though, the ‘where’s my dad’ chats are happening with far less frequency now, mainly, giving credit where it’s due, down to Helen and the unbelievable way that she’s bonded with Lily ever since she first moved in here, all those weeks ago.
Ah Helen. I feel churlish and mortified beyond belief at myself when I think back to how jealous I felt back then, listening to Lily excitedly rattle off all the fabulous, fun excursions she was having with her ‘new best fwiend, Auntie Helen’. Because now, with a hunk of burning humility in my gut, I have to admit, I was horrible to be so envious of her, and owe her nothing but the biggest debt of gratitude all round.
Most astonishing of all to report though, over the past few weeks, Jake and I have even become the unlikeliest of friends. Good friends too. I can tell him things that I can’t tell anyone else, that no one else could even possibly begin to understand. And he listens patiently and can always find something in whatever I’m stressing or fretting about to make me laugh at.
I know; me. Laugh. Actually throw my head back and hold my sides till the giggles pass. Before I met him, I hadn’t had a decent belly laugh in so long, I’d nearly forgotten what my teeth looked like.
That rare and precious jewel that I’ve never had before.
Not for the first time, another totally disconnected thought strikes me. Although I go around inwardly congratulating myself on changing him for the better, could it in fact possibly be the other way around? It is him that’s having even more of an effect on me? Because I see how he is around people and slowly, I’m learning from him. I see how friendly and unfailingly polite he is to everyone that comes into his orbit, from waiters in restaurants to the guy who sells The Big Issue on the corner of the street. How warm and interested he is; the way he always has a few words for everyone. And bit by bit, I’m starting to do the same.
Another thing too; can’t quite put my finger on it, but it’s like ever since I met him, I’m a far more relaxed person to be around now. Not that I’m sure anyone’s even noticed, but I’m eating better, sleeping better, getting far fewer ulcer cramps (my own personal barometric stress warning). I’m just more contented, more grateful for everything I have. Laughter lines are starting to appear on my face in the most unexpected places.
In the past few weeks, after the longest time, I’ve somehow found my smile again.
‘So tell me this Eloise,’ Helen asks me, ‘what’s your long-term plan here? With Jake, I mean.’
It’s still relatively early but I’ve just managed to crawl home from a meeting with the night editor, so Helen and I can have a badly needed glass of wine and a catch-up chat about our respective days. Another new habit and one I’m really starting to enjoy.
Tonight though, she sounds a bit distant and stressed, which is unlike her. Throughout all this, she’s been a staunch supporter of the leg-up in life that I’ve been giving Jake, on the principle that what’s good for Lily is good for us all. So I grab the bull by the horns.
‘Helen, I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what’s all this about? Is something bothering you? I mean, I don’t get it. Why are you asking me about long-term plans all of a sudden?’
‘Hmmm?’ she says distractedly, focused on an episode of Come Dine with Me on TV.
‘Are you listening?’
‘What? Oh, emm, yeah, I mean no, it’s nothing. I was just a bit … worried about where this is all heading, that’s all.’
‘Come on hon, if there’s something you want to say to me, then I really wish you’d just come straight out with it. Besides, what exactly is there to worry about here? Haven’t I for once in my life done someone a decent turn?’
One of the many, ahem, criticisms frequently levelled at my head in work is that not only do I never put myself out for anyone else, but that I’ve never done one single, disinterested nice thing for another human being ever in my life. And now, sod the lot of them, I have. So what in the name of God could be bothering Helen now?
I even reach out to grab the remote control and turn the TV onto mute, so there’s no avoiding my question.
‘Yes, yeah,’ she nods, ‘of course you have, it really sounds like you’ve worked wonders on the guy. I wasn’t for a second suggesting otherwise.’
‘So, what’s up then?’
‘Well,’ she goes on, swirling her wine round the bottom of the glass, ‘it’s just that …’
‘Just that what? Helen, please tell me. Because if I’ve done something I shouldn’t, I’d be very curious to know exactly what it is.’
‘No, no it’s not that you’ve done anything wrong, it’s just, well, you’re such a great one for plans and more plans and plans within plans …’
‘And?’
‘… And you seem to be really pally with him now.’
‘Oh come on, now what’s so awful about that? It’s … I can’t describe it, but it’s just comforting to have an actual friend. A buddy. Particularly a tough male one who makes me laugh whenever he threatens to sort out Seth Coleman,’ I smile. ‘Mainly because I know he’s not messing. He really would if I asked.’
‘No, no, that wasn’t what I meant at all,’ she muses, totally lost in thought and staring at the stressed hostess on Come Dine with Me getting her dinner guests steadily drunker and drunker to compensate for a curry that looks not unlike pig slop. Prison food, as Jake would say.
‘What, then? Come on, you have to tell me.’
‘Just thinking ahead really, I suppose,’ Helen eventually says, not able to look me in the eye.
‘Ahead to when exactly?’ I say, exasperated now.
‘Look,’ she eventually says. ‘I know I’ve never even met Jake …’
‘We’ve already been over this, hon. You know it’s impossible. For starters, who’d take care of Lily if I was to introduce the two of you?’
‘I know, I know all this,’ she says, stretching out to the bottle of Pinot on the coffee table in front of her and generously topping up both our glasses.
‘But the fact is, I can’t stop myself from thinking ahead to whenever you decide the time is right for him and Lily to meet up. In a heartbeat, the minute she meets him is the minute Jake realises you’ve been holding back on him all that time. You don’t think he’ll wonder why you kept the fact that you had a daughter from him? A daughter that’s his? Because how exactly do you think that’ll make him feel? And how exactly do you suggest explaining that one away? Or is your plan right now to just disappear out of his life as quickly as you came into it, leave him to his own devices and just hope and pray that he’s still on the right track, by the time Lily is old enough to track him down for herself? Because it seems to me that your work with him is done. You’ve woven your magic and transformed an ex-con into an upstanding middle-class teacher, who you probably make go around with a tweed jacket and matching leather elbow patches to prove it and who, knowing you, you’ll have driving round in some teachery style Fiat Punto in no time …’
‘I do not … !’
Though come to think of it, not a bad idea.
‘Eloise, all I’m saying is this. You’re dealing with a human being here, not another project that you’ve successfully managed. Yes, you and he are now the unlikeliest of friends and that’s terrific, if it’s what you want. You really like him; I sometimes think an awful lot more than you even know. But friends don’t lie to each other or keep things from each other. And you’re keeping so much from him, it makes my head spin. So just be honest with him. Because sooner or later, the day will come when he’ll find out exactly how much you were holding back. And what I’d very much like to know is this; what’ll your master plan be then?’
And as she’s chatting, suddenly out of nowhere, a new and disconnected worry hits me square in the face. I sit bolt upright in the chair and just stare straight ahead, miles away.
‘What is it?’ Helen asks, sensing the shift in mood.
‘Just thought of something else. Oh shit, I can’t believe it never struck me before this.’
‘Come on, spit it out.’
‘Well … All along I’ve blithely assumed that I’d one day introduce Lily to Jake and that he’d automatically love and adore her the way everyone loves and adores her and would immediately want to be a part of her life. But supposing I’m wrong? Suppose I’ve read the whole thing arseways?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘There’s something that neither of us has considered. Just say I come clean to Jake as you suggest and he baulks at the whole idea and wants absolutely nothing to do with Lily? Which, let’s face it, the guy would be perfectly entitled to do. Not to mention legally entitled; you should have seen the amount of paperwork at the Reilly Institute they showed me, all of which has to be signed by prospective donors, clearly stating that they’ll
not pursue any rights of access to any offspring. The question is … What do I tell Lily then? That I know who her dad is, but that he wants absolutely nothing to do with her?’
She doesn’t answer me. And all I can do is keep staring distractedly into space, mulling the whole thing over.
A long, long pause worthy of a Samuel Beckett play, before Helen eventually breaks the silence.
‘You want my advice?’ she eventually asks, distractedly swirling her wine round and round the glass.
‘Please,’ I say, sounding and feeling like a total dullard.
‘Plan A, you come clean with him. Now, without delaying it any longer. You do what friends do, and you tell him the truth. It’s a bit late in coming, but better late than never. And I mean everything – about why you tracked him down, about Lily, and most of all, why she’s the real reason you wanted to give him a bit of a boost up in life. He may not take it well, may be shocked, even annoyed with you for not being straight with him after all this time, but in the long run, at least you’ll have got it off your chest and done the right thing. And if he doesn’t want to see Lily, then at the very least you’ve been honest with him and given him the choice.’
‘And what’s your plan B?’ I ask Helen, in a tiny voice that I hardly recognise as my own.
‘You’re not going to like it.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Plan B is you cut all ties with him. Starting from now. Stop hanging round together. You’ve helped him all you can, so now call it a day. Because leaving aside the fact that he may not even choose to be a part of Lily’s life, what you’re doing is so grossly unfair. You’ve made friends with someone who at the end of the day, you’re effectively leading up the garden path. You’re deceiving him. Every bit of time you spend with him, you’re more or less lying to him. So just think for a second; how would you like it if someone treated you like that? I know you say it’s lovely to have a buddy, but trust me, this is not how friends treat each other. So I don’t envy you either of your two options love, but that’s the way it is. Come clean with him, or else stop being deceptive. And the only way to do that is to step away from the vehicle.’
A Very Accidental Love Story Page 18