11. Louise

I pressed play, grabbed the shampoo bottle, and as quickly as possible washed Clara’s hair. I had exactly two minutes and twenty-one seconds before the song ended.

Clara hummed along with her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Just as the song ended, I rinsed the last suds from her hair.

‘Towel, Mummy,’ Clara shouted.

I grabbed a warm, fluffy towel and wrapped my daughter in it, drying all the water from her body, then quickly tied up her hair in a soft towel on her head.

The whole bath, hair-washing and drying had to happen before the song ended. I had tried to get Clara to agree to a longer song – I had pushed for ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ – but it had to be Dolly Parton’s ‘Love Is Like A Butterfly’, which Mum had introduced her to when she was a baby.

I handed Clara her soft dressing-gown with no seams, then sat down to catch my breath. Clara hugged the dressing-gown to her.

I was hanging up the wet towels when she said, ‘It was Hannah’s birthday today.’

‘Oh, that’s nice. Did she bring in a cake? Did you all sing “Happy Birthday”?’

Clara fiddled with the belt on her dressing-gown. ‘She brought in a cake, but it wasn’t nice at all. It was disgusting. I said I didn’t like it.’

Oh, no.

‘And Hannah got really angry and said I was mean to say her cake tasted horrible, but it did. It was a carrot cake and there were bits of carrot sticking out of it. Yuk.’

‘Clara, we’ve talked about this. It’s not nice to say negative things about other people’s clothes or body shape or food or anything about them.’

‘I know , Mummy, I didn’t say anything, but she asked me. She said, “Why are you making a weird face? Do you not like my cake? I think it’s the best cake ever,” and I said, “No, I don’t, it’s horrible,” because it was horrible.’

‘I understand, sweetheart, but nobody wants to hear that their birthday cake is horrible.’

‘Well, why did she ask me? If you don’t want to know the truth, don’t ask.’

She had a point. The weird face was probably enough information for Hannah to go on. Still, Clara had to learn how to manage people and situations.

‘Anyway, she said I’m not invited to her party. She said she only invited me because her mummy said she had to invite everyone in the class, even the people she doesn’t like. But because I said her cake is horrible, I’m disinvited.’

Little bitch.

‘Why don’t I ring her mum and explain that you were just being honest?’

Clara looked up at me. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Her mummy made the cake.’

Oh, for goodness’ sake, why didn’t the woman buy a bloody shop cake that all the kids liked and make all of our lives easier? What kind of a clown makes a poxy carrot cake for a ten-year-old’s birthday anyway?

‘Okay. Well, why don’t you talk to Hannah and just say you didn’t mean to criticize the cake? You just don’t like carrots.’

‘But I do like carrots.’

‘Okay, but not in a cake. Look, just talk to her. It’ll be nice to go to her party and have fun.’

‘I don’t want to go to her party. It’ll be too noisy and her mum will probably make more disgusting cakes.’

‘Clara, you have to get used to going to parties and having fun with your classmates. I know it’s hard sometimes and parties can be noisy, but it’s part of life. Remember what Granny always said? “The more you try, the easier it’ll get.”’

‘Well, Granny’s dead now.’

That hit me like a punch.

Clara continued, seemingly unaffected by her reference to her grandmother’s passing while I struggled to control my emotions. ‘Anyway, Mummy, I’ve been disinvited and I don’t want to go. Hannah and her friends don’t like me. They think I’m weird.’

My heart sank. My beautiful girl was always going to be an outsider, the kid who didn’t fit in. I wanted her to have friends and fun, but as Colin had told me, Clara’s idea of a good time was not the same as most kids’. Clara’s idea of a perfect day was being in her bedroom with the lights dimmed, snuggled up in her blanket with Luna, reading or watching a movie of her choice with the volume down low.

‘Okay. You and I can do something fun on Saturday afternoon instead. What would you like to do? We could go for a walk in the forest and have a picnic, or –’

‘We could try and find my daddy.’ Clara cut across me. ‘You’re so clever, Mummy. Gavin and Sophie and Julie are always saying how clever you are. I bet you could find him. I want to find him. Everyone has a daddy except me. William said I have no daddy because when he saw how weird I am he ran away.’

I felt my heart shatter. I’d thought my love would be enough. I’d thought my family and the village I’d surrounded Clara with was enough, but it wasn’t. My sisters had warned me this would happen. They’d said Clara would get to an age where she’d want to know more. But how could I help my beautiful daughter, when I had no clue who her father was?

‘I’ll tell you what, I’ll try really hard, but I may not be able to find him. You understand that, right?’

She put her arms around me. ‘Thank you, Mummy.’

I held her gently, enjoying the hug, and tried to figure out what the hell to do next.

Dad came to visit us on Saturday. I was in the kitchen making lunch, listening to him and Clara talking while they sat on the couch, Dad with his arm lightly around Clara. I could hear her telling him a very long story about birds and he was doing a good job of sounding interested. He had always been sweet to Clara, but he was a little nervous of her, wary of saying or doing the wrong thing and setting her off. He’d always taken the lead from Mum and followed what she did with Clara.

Clara finally finished her story and Dad said, ‘Well, now, I’ve learned a lot today. You are a very clever girl. I don’t know how you remember all those facts.’

‘I’m clever like my mummy.’

‘That’s true. Your mother was always the smartest of my children.’

‘Is she your favourite?’ Clara asked.

I smiled to myself. If Sophie and Julie were here, they’d be straining their ears too.

‘Ah, now, fathers don’t have favourites. I love all my kids equally.’

‘What about your grandchildren?’

‘The same. I love you all equally.’

‘Granny always said I was her favourite.’

‘Yes, pet, I think you were. Sure, she was mad about you.’

‘I miss Granny.’

‘I do too.’

‘I wish she didn’t die.’

‘I do too.’

‘Are you lonely, Granddad?’

‘I am, pet, but I have a lovely family, so I’m lucky.’

I stopped stirring the soup and tried not to cry. Dad sounded so sad.

‘If you only had one child, then they’d be your favourite,’ Clara said.

‘That’s true. You are your mum’s favourite and Jess is Sophie’s favourite.’

‘But Jack loves Jess and Robert the same.’

‘I think so, yes.’

‘I wish I had a daddy.’

Silence. I froze and held my breath.

‘I wish my mummy could find my daddy. I’d be his favourite then too.’

‘Well, now … I suppose … it’s a bit like … Well, not everyone has a mummy and a daddy. Some people only have a mummy and some only a daddy and some have great parents and some have not-so-great parents. But you have the best mummy in the world, so that’s lucky for you, isn’t it?’

‘I know, Granddad, but I would like to meet my daddy and see what he’s like. If I like him, he can be my daddy. If I don’t like him, he won’t be.’

‘It’s a little more complicated than that, sweetheart, and I suppose if your mother said she can’t find him, then … well … that’s it.’

I needed to get in there and save Dad.

‘Lunch is ready,’ I called.

We chatted about everything and nothing over lunch, and while Dad and I were having coffee, Clara went to her room to snuggle with Luna.

‘Did you hear what she was asking me?’ Dad asked quietly.

I nodded.

‘She seems set on it, Louise. Have you no way of finding him?’

‘No. I looked up the hotel online, but it’s not a hotel any more. It’s a block of apartments.’

‘And you remember nothing?’

‘Not really, no. I was so excited about the promotion to partner that I got very drunk, which is unlike me, and I … well, I ended up in bed with a man.’ It felt very strange to be having this conversation with my father.

Dad sipped his coffee. ‘It’s the most un-Louise thing I’ve ever known you to do.’

I smiled. ‘I know, and what were the chances that I’d get bloody pregnant? But, then again, look at what I have now.’

‘She’s a little dote. You wouldn’t be without her.’

‘Clara’s my world.’

Dad looked down. ‘Anne was mine.’

I reached across and put my hand over his. ‘Oh, Dad, I’m sorry you’re lonely. Is there anything I can do?’

‘Nothing at all. Sure you’ve all been so good to me. It’s life. I’ll get used to it, in time. It’s just very quiet in the house without her.’

‘I’m so glad I got closer to her in the last few years.’

‘So was she. It made her so happy.’

‘Are you still seeing Dolores?’

‘I am, but we’re just pals. She’s a bit of company. We play golf and have lunch in the golf club.’

‘Be careful, Dad, she’s looking for more than friendship.’

‘Ah, no, she knows the score.’

Dad was delusional if he thought Dolores was going to be happy with the odd lunch going forward. She was on a mission to hook him in.

‘How’s work?’ Dad asked, sticking to safer ground.

‘Busy as ever, but I’m struggling with this snowflake intern, Zo?. She got dumped on me by Walter, the managing partner. She’s his goddaughter and honestly, Dad, she is the most self-obsessed, lazy, unprofessional employee I’ve ever had to deal with.’

‘Did you talk to Walter about it?’

‘I did, but he asked me to hang on to her for a year as a personal favour.’

‘And you can’t say no to the managing partner.’

‘Exactly.’

‘I had a few employees in my day that were difficult. You have to learn to manage them. Try to find a way to keep her busy but away from you, so you only have to deal with her occasionally.’

‘Good advice, I’ll do that. We’re a small team, but I definitely need to see less of her. And, to be fair, I’m not sleeping well with the Clara-wanting-to-meet-her-dad thing hanging over me, so I’m probably less tolerant than usual.’

Dad burst out laughing. ‘Because you’re so tolerant normally.’

I chuckled. ‘Fair point.’

It felt nice to laugh with Dad. We hadn’t done it in a long time. I was so lucky to have such a brilliant dad. I ached for Clara’s loss, but what could I do? I would just have to be the best mother and father for her.