Chapter 4

Dan

“Hey. You okay? Where are the girls?”

Ivy looks at me curiously, confusion written all over her face. “They’re not with you?”

“No. They’re meant to be with you. When you arranged this, you said Cass would go to yours this afternoon to get ready, that she’d come with you.”

“When I arranged this? You arranged this.”

“Huh?”

“You messaged me, asked if I wanted to take the girls to the late-night cinema. That Fallon would spend the afternoon at yours getting ready, would come with you.”

I’m seriously confused. “Iassure you I didn’t. You messaged me. You invited me.”

“I really didn’t.”

My mind instantly scrolls through all manner of awful things. That the girls are hurt, have run away, forced into—

“Scheming little cows.”

The roll of her eyes, shake of her head and forcefulness of her words breaks into my spiralling thoughts. “What?”

“If I didn’t message you, and you didn’t message me, it’s pretty obvious who set this whole thing up, isn’t it?”

“The girls? They could have just asked to come.”

“They’re not even here. They didn’t want to come.”

“Then why go to all the trouble of setting this up. Sneaking onto our phones and all that?”

She shakes her head, laughs. “They’re trying to set us up, you idiot.”

I know Cass has been encouraging me to date, but going this far? She wouldn’t, would she?

“Why?”

“Because they’re teenage girls. They’re young and naive, they still have hope and think love is all hearts and flowers.”

Her answer makes me smile. She’s just as cynical about love as me. “Yeah, I guess. Bloody idiots.”

And then it hits me. If both our girls went out this afternoon saying they were going to the other’s house, where the hell have they been all afternoon, and where are they now? I pull my phone out, message Cass, notice that Ivy is doing the same.

We stand staring at our phones for just a matter of moments before we both get the exact same message. A photo of the two of them, grinning like idiots, clearly on the sofa at my house with a bucket of popcorn and holding up a DVD. The only words accompanying the photo? ‘Enjoy movie night. We will.’

I look over at Ivy, try to gauge if she’s as mad at Fallon as I am at Cass right now. Clearly, she’s not. She’s messaging back, and a sneaky peek at her screen reveals a lot.

You know this means I’m setting you up on a date now, right? Be afraid, Fallon, be very afraid. I’m thinking Mrs Harrison’s grandson, you know, the nose picker. Enjoy the movie.

“You’re not mad at her?” I ask.

“For being a meddling teenager? No. She meant well, she’s just a little delusional, apparently. You’re angry at Cass?”

I am. Though as I look at Ivy, that seems to be ebbing away by the second. “A little. She’s so being grounded for this.”

I go to type a message but Ivy swipes my phone from my hand. “Try something different. You said she doesn’t talk to you. Can I?”

Her thumbs are poised over the keyboard onscreen, those green eyes fixed on me. She’s got such a great relationship with her own daughter, maybe I should take a leaf out of her book. I nod, give her the green light to reply for me. And then I step up behind her, watch over her shoulder as she types.

You are in so much trouble for this! Tomorrow afternoon and evening you’re going to sit through a whole movie marathon. You, me, popcorn, chocolate, sweets. . . I’m even going to make you choose the movies.

It’s playful, a little silly. It’s very Ivy.

“And what if I’m busy tomorrow?” I ask.

She gives me a look, all raised eyebrows and disapproval. It’s kind of hot.

“Well, cancel whatever hot date it is you have, you’re doing this now. Honestly, it’s not what you can buy them or give them, what she’ll remember is the time you spend with her. Trust me.”

As she speaks, a reply pings into my phone.

All afternoon and evening? How hideous. I suppose I did bring this on myself. Love you dad. X

“Told you,” Ivy smiles, nudging me with her elbow. “Now, I’m going to go see a movie, you coming?”

Fuck. She’s on board with this whole date thing?

“I don’t really date,” I say carefully.

She looks horrified. “Oh, no, me either. I just … I meant …”

“You’re really lovely, it’s just—”

“Dan! No offense, you’re a great guy, you’re funny, charming, good-looking, but I really was just asking as a friend.”

Oh. I just told her I don’t date, and yet now she’s made it clear she wasn’t suggesting this was one, I’m … disappointed? Well, that makes no sense at all.

“I get it, I do. After Ana, I made the decision it’s going to be just me and Cass, she’s my priority. Not that it wouldn’t be a privilege to date you, you’re a knockout, I’m just … not ready for that.”

The colour that pinks up her cheeks almost glows in the lights from the old cinema we’re standing outside. “It’s sweet of you to say, but I’m hardly a knockout. Knocked out more like. A tired single mum trying to balance working from home and running a house alongside bringing up a teenage girl. And yeah, after the last arsehole, I’m just not looking to throw anything, or anyone, into that mix. No matter how much a certain sixteen-year-old may seem to think I should.”

“I know that feeling. Cass has been pushing me to date for a while, says I need to get back out there. I’m not against it altogether, like when Cass is in her thirties and has her own family,” I laugh.

She places a hand on my arm. “At least you’re open to it. Maybe one day something will just click and you’ll meet someone super special to heal that heart.”

“I could say the same about you. Maybe Prince Charming is still out there for you.”

She laughs and it lights up her entire face. Which is definitely not a thought I should be having about her on this non-date.

“Nah, I’ll end up an old cat lady, at home with my fur babies. I’d just be living up to what everyone thinks I am anyway, a little kooky, strange.”

“I’ll be honest, that was the first thing that someone told me about you,” I admit.

“That I’m strange?”

“I think the words she used were ‘out there’ but, kind of the same thing.”

She laughs, totally not caring at all. “Who was it?”

“That woman from the PTA, the one always flapping her clipboard around like she’s project manager for some major company, and not just a self-appointed, self-important busybody.”

She bursts into laughter now, more than I’ve ever seen her laugh before, and if I thought her earlier laugh lit up her face, this lights up the entire street. It takes her a full minute to breathe calmly enough to get her next words out.

“I call her Clipboard Claire and I think that might just be the best description of her I’ve ever heard. I kind of like you even more right now. Anyway, what do you fancy seeing? Ooh, there’s the new Savage Stealth movie.”

Her excitement over the latest in a very high-octane action franchise surprises me. “You like those?”

“Doesn’t everyone? And we’ve dragged ourselves all the way into town, now we’re without the girls, we might as well watch an adult movie … I mean … not that kind of—”

“It’s okay, I’ve heard all about your love of porn.”

The instant colouring of her cheeks makes me chuckle, but instead of being embarrassed about it, she owns it. “Well, sometimes BOB just isn’t enough.”

“Bob?”

“Yeah, my battery-operated boyfriend,” she replies with a cheeky wink. “You get the tickets and I’ll get the popcorn. Sweet, right?”

“Is there any other kind?”

“Depends if you ask my ex or not, he was salty all the way.”

“Ana was too, actually. I’m not a fan. You ever dump a bag of Maltesers in it too?”

The look she gives me is hard to read. “Too much?” I ask.

“Not at all. I was just weighing up whether it was too soon to let you see all my weirdness. I usually put Maltesers, mini marshmallows and gummy bears in.”

I’m instantly impressed. “Hell yeah, a huge bucket of that, please.”

Once we’re settled into the faded red seats, popcorn perched on the arm between us, and the lights are dimmed, a sense of calm comes over me. It feels easy spending time with Ivy, completely natural to laugh and joke with her. It’s something I’ve not done for a long time. The movie is good, although as we approach the last half hour, the big reveal, she shifts position and her thigh presses against mine. And then her battery-operated boyfriend comment comes back to me. There’s no concentrating after that, all brain power is diverted to hiding my raging hard-on.