Chapter Eight PRESENT DAY

Chapter Eight

P RESENT D AY

Madeleine was mentally scrabbling for solutions. She – the woman who juggled complex design projects, was responsible for teams of people, and who had her sights set on world domination. Yet here she was, sweating and fighting the desire to vomit as she weighed up her options and tried to figure out how best to get Edith through the night without crying.

Much to her delight, Edith’s dad hadn’t picked up when she had called earlier. She had been dreading speaking to him, with nerves bubbling in her throat, but what to do now? She had promised that Edith could make contact with Marnie but doubted the wisdom of phoning her mum at this hour. Marnie needed to sleep and there was the risk Edith might only get more upset, which meant no one would sleep, herself included. Edith, after her bath and now wearing one of Madeleine’s oversized t-shirts while her uniform whizzed around the washing machine, nestled next to her on the sofa. Her soft form was warm against Madeleine, and she took comfort from it, liking how it felt a lot like building a connection.

‘I was thinking, maybe it’s best we text Nanny a goodnight message and then you can chat to her properly tomorrow. How does that sound?’

‘Good.’ Her daughter nodded.

‘All right, then.’ She reached for her phone with barely disguised relief. ‘What was it you wanted to tell her?’

‘I wanted to tell her that Travis and me went to visit Minty, but we couldn’t find her. We looked really hard, but she wasn’t there.’

‘Oh dear. Who’s Minty?’

‘She’s our mouse.’ Edith stared at her, her expression blank.

‘Oh, well, that explains it. Mice are proper little scamps. They’re fast on those tiny feet, plus they’ve got four of them, so they can really motor. Minty has probably moved on, gone exploring, or she might be out with her friends. It’s not surprising she’s not where you last saw her.’

‘Minty won’t be out exploring with her friends.’ Her daughter sounded adamant.

‘Or maybe she moved to a new place or is working away ...’ It felt like a good segue into explaining her move to LA.

‘Nope.’ Edith shook her head. She was a tough nut to crack.

‘You sound pretty certain!’

‘I am certain, because Minty is dead.’

‘Oh!’ This she had not expected. ‘So you were going to visit her ... her final resting place?’ She was struggling to keep up.

Edith let out a long sigh, as if having to explain was tedious. ‘We went to dig her up, but don’t tell Nan because she told me not to. She said it didn’t matter about my sock.’

Madeleine opened her mouth to speak, trying to order the many, many questions that had sprung from this exchange, when Edith spoke instead.

‘Mummy?’

Madeleine wondered if she’d ever get used to being called that, wondered if she’d get used to the unique taste of guilt and betrayal with soft undertones of joy that it left on her tongue. Wondered what her life might have been like if she’d not told Marnie she was pregnant, if she’d let this incredible little girl grow up without knowledge of her, in another family, all of which had been under consideration. These thoughts now, depending on her state of mind, mildly attractive or absolutely horrifying.

‘Yes, Edith?’

‘Can we try my dad again, please?’

‘Sure.’ She did her best to hide the fact that it had been nothing but sweet relief that filled her up when he had failed to answer earlier. She doubted she’d ever be free of the shiver of nerves along her limbs at the prospect of contact. On the rare occasion their paths crossed, she felt exactly as she had on the towpath the night she’d told him of her pregnancy – awash with remorse. And wishing, just a little bit, that she felt differently.

This time the Facetime call connected almost immediately and there was nowhere for her to hide and no time to practise in her head.

‘Hey, Mads.’

And just like that – there he was.

His face filled the screen of her tablet. Her stomach flipped as it did when she bumped into any lover or old flame, as if her body reacted viscerally to lingering memories of lust before her brain caught up with the reality that they were an ex or an old flame for a reason. His hair was still long, sitting about his shoulders, and was as enviously thick and shiny as she’d remembered, his beard fuller than she had seen. It suited him.

‘Hi, Jimmy.’

She smiled in the way that she knew was alluring, despite her nerves, wanting to present her profile in the best way – still, after all they had been through, hoping he saw her in the best light.

‘How’re you getting on? Doug called to say you’d taken the munchkin home.’

This was always his way, straight to it, focusing on their connection and always his main concern: Edith.

‘Daddy!’ Edith denied her the chance to respond as she jumped up, leaned on the back of the sofa, grabbed the tablet, and held it close to her face.

Madeleine was pretty sure that Jimmy would have a great close-up of their daughter’s nose and mouth. She noticed how Edith’s beautiful, podgy feet made dents in the cushion. It was an odd thing, how children used furniture and other objects with such disregard for how they were designed to be used. Equally surprising was that it didn’t bother her as much as she might have expected, not like an overly loud jersey or the wrong shade of cream paint.

‘I haven’t got my book bag, Dad.’

‘Well, don’t worry about that tonight, pickle. I can text Mr Lawal on the class WhatsApp and let him know that Nanny isn’t feeling very well. He’ll understand, and you don’t need to worry about it. You don’t need to worry about anything. Everything is going to be okay – I promise.’

They had a WhatsApp group. That made sense. She felt the grip of inadequacy that Jimmy was not only part of this group but also knew her teacher was Mr Lawal. Judging from the relaxing in Edith’s demeanour, he also knew just what to say and how to say it. His tone, his promise, left no doubt that he was a man of his word. What had Madeleine expected? He was far more present in their child’s life than her, and Madeleine knew she had no right to feel even a flicker of envy. This was her choice. It was and always had been her choice. Not that these reminders were easy to swallow or made up for the feelings of inadequacy that swilled in her gut.

‘Can you take me to school in the morning, Daddy?’

‘Sure I can.’ His response, she noted, offered without hesitation or consideration of the time pressure, hassle, or the inevitable battle in both directions against the rush hour. ‘If that’s what you want, my love, then I will come get you in the morning, bright and early, and I can drop you at school.’

‘And, Daddy ...’ She glanced at Madeleine and then back at the screen, before whispering, her face mere millimetres from the screen, as if it might prevent Madeleine hearing or at least being offended. ‘Can you please come and get me right now?’

It didn’t work.

She heard and was incredibly offended, or rather hurt. Hurt would be more accurate. It cut her that her little girl didn’t want to spend the night there. And left her wondering what it was she’d done wrong.

‘Can you put Madeleine back on for a second, please, my love?’

Edith nodded and, now avoiding eye contact, she passed the tablet over.

‘I guess you heard that.’ He pulled a face.

‘I did indeed.’ She forced a smile.

‘She’s got her bedroom here with all her stuff. It’s familiar so ...’ Jimmy was and always had been a kind man. Even at this late hour, and in this unique situation, he tried to placate her, to spare her feelings with the justification.

‘Of course. Listen, whatever’s best. I just want her to be comfortable.’

She saw him check his watch, and then he yawned. ‘It’s going to take me three-quarters of an hour or so to get across town, maybe less, depending on traffic, but I’ll be there as soon as I can. If I call you when I’m close, I can maybe pull up outside and—’

‘And I’ll bring her down.’ She finished the sentence, relieved he wasn’t going to come into her apartment, her space. The idea of making small talk here was almost more than she could stand. ‘You have my address?’

‘Yes, Marnie sent it to me, just in case.’

Of course she did.

‘Right, see you in a bit.’ He ended the call.

‘Jimmy will be here soon.’ She stared at Edith, who stared back, the little girl now unafraid to hold her eye, unblinking. It was an odd moment. The two looking at the face of their past and their future. ‘Your uniform will be washed and ready by the time he gets here. You can travel in my t-shirt. You can have it, in fact.’

‘’Kay.’

‘Do you ... Do you want something to eat?’ Madeleine knew it was a while since she had had her McDonald’s treat.

‘Have you got any sliced chicken?’

‘Sliced chicken? No. But I’ve got hummus, cheese, crackers, apples, vodka, all kinds of things.’

Edith shook her head, the vodka joke entirely lost on the infant.

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘Would you be hungry if I had sliced chicken?’

‘Maybe.’

She liked the child’s honesty.

‘I guess we could nip to the shop and get some sliced chicken?’ She felt a sudden flare of panic. What were the logistics? How did it work? Was it ever okay to leave the kid at home alone with the TV on while she nipped out? That didn’t feel right. Edith was barefoot in an oversized t-shirt, ready for bed, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to drag her around the streets in the darkness.

‘I’m okay.’

She heard the echo of uncertainty in the little girl’s usually chirpy demeanour, and it was crushing. This evening was quickly going from bad to worse.

‘Would you like to watch something on TV?’

‘Sure.’ She shrugged.

Madeleine was about to grab the remote control, which she was certain was far more complicated than it needed to be, when Edith pressed the tablet to life and started scrolling. Her proficiency with the digital keypad and her comfort with the technology was super impressive. It made her heart swell with something that felt a lot like pride. The little girl gave a big yawn and settled back on the sofa. Madeleine ran her fingers over the top of her child’s head, feeling her silky hair, fresh scented after her bath, glide beneath her touch. The perfect little head that she had pushed from her body.

‘You’re crowning! That’s it, Madeleine! Keep going! You’re doing a wonderful job! Nearly there, my love! Keep going!’

She didn’t often think about that day. It was easier to keep it buried under a busy schedule of work and meetings and plans and designs – easier not to dwell on those moments when her world changed for ever. When Marnie’s, Doug’s and Jimmy’s worlds changed for ever too – the day her daughter was born. The thought was enough for her to feel a pulse in her womb.

Edith, it seemed, was bored of her programme. Twisting on the sofa, she touched her little fingertip to Madeleine’s cheek.

‘Mummy.’

‘Yes?’

‘Lots of my friends live in the same house as their mummy.’

This was not an uncommon topic when they met, and Madeleine understood. It was how the little one wrapped her head around a situation that was different to that of some of her friends. Not that their set-up was unique, and Marnie had explained to her a while back that Edith understood that there were many kinds of family. In her school class alone, Melodie had two mummies, Tunde had no mum, one dad and an older sister – who was also a mummy to Tunde’s nephew, who was older than him. Jonah had a mum and a stepdad and a dad and a stepmum and a half-sister, and Edith had a nan and a grandad who adored her, a dad who saw her every week, and a mum she saw sometimes. When it came to a support system, it felt like enough.

‘I am sure they do. But not all families are the same, are they?’

‘Nope, they are not.’ Edith yawned again. ‘I was thinking, Mum, you could come and live with me and Nanny and Pop, if you wanted. You could share my room. I wouldn’t mind.’

Edith made the suggestion cautiously but had obviously given it thought. Madeleine stared at her, quite unsure of where or how to begin. Her daughter’s words were the verbal equivalent of taking a dagger to her breast.

‘I think we’d be a bit squished if we had to share that little room!’

It was cowardly, she knew, and did them both a disservice as she reverted to the flippant, the comical, rather than address the question head on, which was so much bigger than the question Edith was actually asking: why don’t you live in the same house as me? Why have you never lived in the same house as me? Questions she was afraid of and felt ill-equipped to answer.

She noted that her daughter didn’t suggest that they all move here to this spacious flat, clearly not seeing it as anything remotely like a home. Again, she felt the crushing blow of rejection and wondered if her child felt the same. It was like trying to figure out a puzzle with half the pieces missing and no instructions. It was a knotty wool ball of a problem and she had no clue how to start.

How did she begin to explain her choices without resigning Edith to a lifetime of therapy? An image of Orna flew into her thoughts – Orna who always pushed for honesty, reinforcing the saying that it really was the best policy.

Tonight, however, Madeleine decided to go with avoidance. Ostrich style. Head in the sand.

This was going to be her tactic. It was too late in the day and too much of a minefield to open the floodgates on such a complex situation. It required so much more than a quick chat while they waited for Edith’s ride home.

She kissed Edith’s hand, unable to think of the discussion around the little girl’s impending birth: the heartache, the fights, the throats raw with emotion and enough tears collectively shed to sail away on ...

She thought of Marnie and hoped she was comfortable, hoped her surgery wasn’t going to be too gruelling, hoped Dougie was managing without her. They hadn’t spoken for a while before today, almost a fortnight, in fact. Not that this was unusual – she was a busy woman – but it wasn’t easy for any of them.

It felt to her that Marnie had misjudged just how tricky it would be, despite the openness that was the bedrock of their agreement, that she had underestimated the level of emotion when it came to all being in the same room.

Edith rubbed her eyes.

‘I know you’re tired, Edith. It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?’ She thought of the emails that would no doubt require her attention, that she’d have to dive into once her little girl had gone home. ‘Your daddy will be here soon.’

‘I can sleep in his van. I have a special cushion that goes around my chin.’ She pointed to the area lest there be any doubt where her chin was.

‘Ah, I know those special cushions; I have one I use sometimes on an airplane.’ This felt like the time to lay the foundation, sow the seed of the idea that she was going to the States, leaving her behind.

‘I’ve never been on an airplane.’

‘Would you like to go on one?’ She wondered how, logistically, she could get Edith out to LA, unwilling to admit that the thought of her being accompanied by Marnie and Doug or even Jimmy made it a whole lot less attractive as a proposition. It was that thing about her two worlds colliding again.

‘Not sure.’

‘Where would you go if you could go anywhere?’ She was curious.

‘I’d go to Manchester.’

‘Manchester?’ Her laugh was spontaneous; it wasn’t quite what she’d expected.

‘Yes, my friend Travis—’

‘Travis the mouse hunter?’ She was delighted to be keeping up.

‘Yes, well, he got a plane to Manchester to go and stay with his other grandma.’

‘I see. Did he have a nice time?’

‘Not really. He said her house smelled of wee wee because her cat is old and just wee wee’d on the floor and then it did a poo in the kitchen next to the cat toilet.’

‘Oh dear! That doesn’t sound great. Poor cat. Poor Travis’s grandma, come to think of it.’

‘Yep.’ Edith sighed wearily, as if she understood what it felt like to have the worry of an old cat. She was indeed a comical little thing.

‘I’m going on a plane in a few weeks, actually.’ Transparency , she reminded herself, just as Marnie had taught her.

‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m going to LA. Do you know what LA stands for?’

Her daughter nodded. ‘Lanzarote.’

Again she felt the laugh erupt from her. This kid was great company. ‘I love that! But not quite. LA is short for Los Angeles.’

‘Is it near Lanzarote?’

‘Not really. It’s in America.’

‘Near New York?’

Edith’s eyes were wide, and she remembered feeling a similar fascination for the place when it was no more than a footnote to Christmas movies and soundbites on the news. When finally she got to visit, her fascination only intensified. It was sad that now, after so many trips, she would sigh at the thought of crowds on the ‘Q’ and dreaded having to navigate tourists who clustered on the paths in Central Park or stopped dead on the sidewalk to take endless selfies in Times Square. The irony wasn’t lost on her that other visitors were her irritation when she was no New Yorker. The Big Apple, like anything that was overfamiliar, had lost a little of its glitter.

‘I think I’d like to go to New York after I’ve been to Manchester.’

‘It’s an obvious route.’

Again she cradled her child’s head in her hand, smiling, revelling in the contact, knowing the opportunities to be alone with her were few and far between. It gave her freedom of sorts – no one watching to see how she interacted, whether she did or said the wrong thing and how ‘maternal’ she seemed.

‘Are you going there for your job?’

‘I am, yes. Do you know what my job is?’

She felt the little girl, nod. ‘You do decorating.’

The simplification was perfect. ‘Yes, I do. I do decorating.’

‘When I grow up, I want to work on the market with Pop. “Get your pots and pans here! Your buckets, your bowls, your drainers, your tea towels, your pegs!”’ Edith stared at her as if expecting her to laugh; it sounded a lot like a performance, but it had the opposite effect. Edith was smart – so smart – and the thought of her not achieving her full potential, or worse, following Dougie up the market through a misplaced sense of duty because she might believe that this was what she was ‘supposed to do’ horrified Madeleine. The early damp starts and the days washed out by rain, trying to eke out a living by flogging buckets – all of it. Yet how could she comment when it was her who had left Edith in that environment and carried on with her life?

‘Nanny laughs when I do my market shout.’ Edith again looked nonplussed.

‘I bet she does. The thing to remember, little one, is that you can be or do anything you want to, but it’s important you use your brain and never regret building the life you want, okay?’

‘Okay.’ Edith stared at her and seemed to choose her words carefully. ‘How long are you going to America for?’

And there it was, so eloquently put and so painfully insightful. The fact that Edith deduced from their chat that building the life Madeleine wanted meant going away, possibly for a very long time.. . possibly for ever.

‘I’m not sure.’ Again this half-truth, ostrich style. ‘But we can Facetime. How does that sound?’

‘Sounds okay.’ Edith’s response was half-hearted.

Madeleine felt the pull of something deep in her chest at the prospect of not seeing her child for a while. Knowing it sustained her, the brief catch-ups, the moments of celebration, were enough of a balm to ease her concern over the life Edith lived on the Brenton Park estate. It was easy not to worry when the little one was always full of laughter, living her best life while mouse hunting and eating macaroni cheese.

‘I’m moving out of here.’ She looked up at the double-height ceiling.

‘Will you ever move back in? It’s lovely.’

‘Eventually, probably. But I’ve rented it out to a couple from Hong Kong who are in banking. They move here in about six weeks.’

‘Trina works in the bank!’

‘Yes, she does.’ It was a strange sensation that Edith knew and was clearly fond of the woman who had been her confidante, her best friend, for so long. ‘Trina and I were friends when we were the same age as you are now. Can you believe that?’

‘Yes, then you got one whiff of the bright lights and were gone quicker than a rat up a drainpipe!’

‘What?’ It was a phrase that seemed alien coming from Edith’s mouth. The words and tone so grown-up, she could only have heard it from an adult. If it wasn’t so wounding in content, it would have been hilarious. ‘The reason Trina and I aren’t still close ...’ She stopped, suddenly unsure of what to say, aware not only of the complexity of the topic but also that she was talking to a seven-year-old. Why were she and Trina not close? Because her friend didn’t understand her desire to chase her dreams? Because Trina felt abandoned by her? Because Trina was a little jealous of her success? Because Madeleine had slept with the boy Trina loved ... and had kept it secret?

Edith managed a half nod, as if to confirm she was listening, and yawned again, as her eyes gave a slow blink. The certain forerunner to sleep. Madeleine decided their chat could wait, wondering quite how she’d manage if her daughter actually fell asleep, unsure she could navigate the stairs and carry her slumbering form. She’d have to invite Jimmy up.

The intercom buzzer ringing loudly around the apartment gave them both a start.

‘It’s my dad!’ The little girl perked up a little.

‘Not sure it is. I didn’t think he’d be here quite yet.’ She made her way to the intercom and lifted the phone. It wasn’t unusual for various delivery drivers to try all the intercom buzzers if one didn’t respond immediately. More often than not, they then shouted garbled messages about pizzas or groceries that needed to be collected from the street. The panic in their voices was obvious, no doubt as they kept one eye on their vehicle usually abandoned half on the pavement.

The voice that came through loud and clear was neither garbled nor panicked and was certainly not what she had been expecting.

‘This is your friendly supper delivery! I might have sushi or I might have something a lot more exciting!’

‘Nico!’ Her mouth ran dry.

‘The very same. Open up, I’m cold and horny – I mean, cold and lonely.’ He laughed.

‘Just a sec ...’ Looking towards Edith, who sat on the sofa, she tried to stem the tremble to her limbs as she weighed up her options. Hide Edith in the bedroom? Her eyes screwed shut for a second at the abhorrent and unwelcome thought. Of course not. Come clean? That didn’t feel like a good idea at this stage of their ... what was it even? Hardly a relationship yet, plus with her departure to LA getting closer, why was she even investing in this ... whatever it was?

‘I’m sorry, Nico, you’ve caught me off guard. I just, I don’t feel ...’

‘Are you okay?’ With all joviality now wiped from his tone, his concern caused her gut to bunch with guilt.

‘I’ve been on the loo.’ She winced at the imagery he would no doubt conjure. ‘Don’t want to go into detail, but don’t want to give it to you either.’

Her heart raced. She kept her eyes closed. Lying. Lying to Nico. It didn’t feel good.

‘No, no, oh God, I should have called first. Ah, I’m an idiot! I thought I was being spontaneous and interesting.’

With her eyes closed, she gripped the phone of the intercom to her face. He was so lovely. Spontaneous, interesting, and lovely in every way.

‘I’ll call you.’

She wanted him gone so that she could end the farce. And she wanted him gone so there was no question of him running into Jimmy or seeing Edith – not that she was ashamed of her, not that. It was more that it required a bigger conversation than a quick introduction on the fly. Not that it mattered in the grand scheme of things – she was after all, jetting off very soon. At the thought of boarding the plane and flying away from this man, away from the little girl who was scrunched in a heap on the sofa wearing her t-shirt, she felt a flicker of sadness. Meeting him and spending this time with Edith was certainly going to make it a little harder to simply pack up and go.

‘Yep. Look, if you need anything, anything at all ...’ He let this trail, and his sweet goodbye, offering help, being there for her, only made her feel worse.

‘Bye – and thank you,’ she whispered, trying to sound ill. It was as uncomfortable as it was cowardly.

‘Who was that on your phone thing?’ Edith asked. She opened her eyes and noticed the little girl had left the sofa and was sitting on the floor close to her, her hair mussed, her eyes heavy. Beautiful. It happened like this sometimes, when Madeleine would catch a glimpse of her and feel the stir of deep, deep love. The connection, almost visceral, reminding her that she had made this incredible human. It really was some achievement. Her best, in fact.

‘That was a friend of mine.’

‘Is he your boyfriend?’

‘What do you know about boyfriends?’ She sat on the floor opposite her child.

‘My friend Melodie loves Olly but he doesn’t love her back. He loves me and Jonah.’

‘I see, and do you love Olly?’

‘No. I don’t want a boyfriend. I’m too busy!’ This she spoke with her palms upturned, as if she really did have one heck of a schedule.

‘I hear ya.’ She knew she’d remember this glorious chat when she was working late in LA or hiking those trails and, when she did, it would be with a papercut of sorrow that she could not see Edith in that moment. ‘I guess love can be complicated.’

‘That’s what Nanny Marnie said.’

‘She’s right.’

‘So is he your boyfriend?’ Edith looked up at her with a wrinkle to the top of her nose and a persistence she recognised.

‘No. But he’s nice. A nice man.’ A spectacular man!

‘He sounded nice.’

This assessment made her smile. This kid was smart and aware and wonderful. All the things she’d hoped she would be and yet the thought of this being her norm, of having this responsibility, this role, every day of her life? It still felt like more than she was equipped to handle. So why did the prospect of leaving her and going so far away hurt a little? And as for Nico, he was so very wonderful, but she was not the kind of person to hitch her wagon to a man’s and spend cosy nights in with sushi. She had an empire to build! A brand to launch! These motivational thoughts were easy in her mind yet paid no heed to the lurch in her chest at the thought of having lied to him.

Her phone beeped with a text. It was from Jimmy.

FEW MINUTES AWAY!

‘Right, that’s Jimmy. He’s nearly here and so in a bit we’ll go downstairs.’

‘Okay. So, would you like the nice man to be your boyfriend?’

This kid was tenacious.

‘Erm, it’s not that straightforward.’

Edith rested her chin on her palm, her elbow propped on her leg, as if settling in for a long conversation.

‘I mean, he is certainly boyfriend material. He probably has everything I look for, but I agree with you, Edith – I’m too busy!’

‘My daddy was your boyfriend, wasn’t he? That’s what he said.’

‘Oh, well, yes, he was.’ She felt the film of discomfort slide over her skin. Where was this heading and what was the right thing to say? Madeleine felt woefully unprepared for any questions that might come her way.

‘Did he buy you chocolates and stuff?’

‘He might have done; I can’t really remember. I know he was lovely.’ And has always been very good to me. ‘So are you saying that you might let Olly be your boyfriend if he got you chocolates?’

‘No, I prefer sliced chicken.’ Edith spoke without an ounce of irony and not for the first time it made Madeleine laugh out loud.

Her buzzer rang again.

‘That’ll be your dad.’

‘Yes!’ Edith scrabbled to her feet. ‘Do you think I’ll come back here, Mum?’

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. ‘I think you will, one day. Yes.’

Jumping up, she grabbed her goose-down-filled coat from the concealed cupboard by the front door and bundled Edith into it. It was massive but, when zipped up, the smile on Edith’s face suggested she was quite happy to be ensconced inside it.

‘I can’t walk in this!’ As if proof were needed, the little girl waddled from side to side on the wooden floor like a drunk, and threatened to tumble.

‘I’ll carry you, if you hold on around my neck. Don’t move for a sec. I’ll just go grab your uniform.’

With the warm garments pulled from the dryer and folded inside a Dean with Edith hoisted on to her shoulder, and faced with the prospect of her two worlds colliding, she honestly considered slamming the front door and retreating back up the stairs. Her hastily considered plan was then to bolt the door of her apartment, unhook the phone and hide until everyone had gone away. This wasn’t like her, not at all. Her reputation was as a problem solver, a calm but proactive leader – a trailblazer! Yet the thought of sinking down on to the sofa with her padded earthworm had never felt so attractive.

‘Oh!’

She watched the smile fall from Nico’s face, replaced with something close to utter bewilderment, and her heart sank down to her boots.

‘Ma-Madeleine,’ he faltered. ‘I’m so sorry to, erm, to disturb you. I was just ... just going to drop off some ...’ He made as if to thrust the items he’d bought into her arms, before deciding against it at the realisation that she had her hands full, in more ways than one. ‘I’m not ... not staying.’ He swallowed. ‘I just—’

‘Nico, I ...’ She didn’t know what to say in response to the fact that she was evidently not ill, evidently not stuck on the loo, and evidently not alone.

‘No, no, it’s fine. My fault, I shouldn’t have, erm ...’

He kept his gaze averted and it spoke volumes. His expression and demeanour all in response to her deceit and the strange and unchartered dynamic in which they now found themselves. She felt rooted to the spot while wishing she could run away. It was awful. Everything about it was just awful.

‘You ... you’re obviously busy, so, erm, I’ll go. I hope you feel ...’ he babbled.

‘Mummy?’ Edith lifted her head and hooked one padded arm under her chin.

‘ Mummy? ’ Nico stared at her now. His eyes searched her face as if seeing her for the first time. ‘You know, all that talk about openness and honesty, you could have told me you were divorced or ... whatever ...’ He kept his tone low as if whispering to her alone. This was most definitely not the time for that conversation.

‘This is Edith.’ She smiled at her daughter, hoping it might dispel any awkwardness her child might feel, not wanting that for her, not ever.

‘Hi.’ It was almost instinctive, the way Nico stepped further back on the pavement.

‘It’s my daddy!’ Edith called, and tried to wriggle down as Jimmy stepped from the van.

Nico turned to face Jimmy and actually gave a wry laugh and bit his bottom lip, as if a little overwhelmed by the utter absurdity of the situation. Still he clutched his assortment of medications, the wilting carnations, and the packet of biscuits.

‘Can I have one of those?’ Edith had spotted the Malted Milks and pointed at them. ‘I wanted some sliced chicken but Mummy didn’t have any.’

‘Sure.’ He handed her the packet.

‘Whoa! I’ll take those!’ Jimmy walked forward, arm outstretched, to intervene. ‘She’s not allowed biscuits at this time of night, not that it doesn’t stop her trying.’ He smiled at Nico, as was his way, friendly and nice. ‘I’m Jimmy.’ He held out his hand.

‘Nico.’

Watching the two shake hands was a strange thing. Her past and present coming face to face. She looked away as it was almost unbearable to witness.

‘I was just heading off, so ... Nice to meet you.’

Nico pointed down the street in an obvious hurry to escape the pantomime into which he had stumbled. Her instinct was to dissuade him from leaving, to ask him to stay and give her the chance to explain the situation, to tell him of her history, her story, and the choices she had made so she could live the life she wanted. But of course she wasn’t about to say anything of the sort in front of Jimmy and Edith.

‘Bye, everyone.’ He barely glanced at her before heading off, still with his booty nestling in his arm.

‘Cheers!’ Jimmy’s goodbye was jovial and genuine. He looked well, very well. His signature dark, dark hair, and slow smile unchanged. Still in his work clothes – mustard-coloured corduroys that were dotted with glue and paint, a quilted waxed jacket that was similarly adorned, and battered pale Timberland boots with the laces loose.

‘Thanks for coming to get her.’

He reached for the bundle of Edith and held her with ease on his forearm. The little girl kissed his cheek and looped her arms around his neck, nestling against him.

‘I’ve told her that no matter how old she gets or wherever she is in the world, if she asks me to, I will always, always come and find her and bring her home. It’s important.’

His sentiment was so beautiful and spoken with such conviction she felt a thickening in the base of her throat. To have such a safety net ... it was a wonderful thing.

‘Right, you, say goodbye to your mum.’ He jostled the child who she could see was minutes away from sleep.

‘Bye, Mummy.’ Her small hand crept from the voluminous sleeve.

Madeleine reached out and squeezed her little fingers. Kissing them would have been her preference but, as ever, when in front of Marnie or Jimmy or anyone really, she held back, unsure of the protocol.

‘Hope Marnie’s okay. Bit of a shocker for everyone.’ He looked concerned. It was another jab in the ribs, a reminder that he had a relationship with her parents, saw them with more regularity than she did.

‘I’m sure she’ll be fine.’

‘I’ll check in on Dougie, of course.’

Of course.

‘Will you come and see us on Sunday?’ Edith spoke softly, rubbing her tired eyes.

‘Sunday?’ She thought how best to answer. It was conflicting; she wanted to see Edith on Sunday, but was equally anxious, feeling the swirl of unsettling sediment that had been stirred up today, and wary that seeing her on Sunday would only make parting that much harder for everyone.

‘I have her every Sunday and Sunday night. It gives Marnie and Doug a break and, honestly, it’s the highlight of my week.’ His expression told her he meant it. ‘Come out, Mads.’ No one called her Mads anymore, or Maddie, or any of the other affectionate nicknames that had sprung up in her youth. ‘Come see us at the cottage. It’ll be nice for you to spend some time with her. And we can give you back your bag and coat.’

‘Mummy’s going to Lanzarote.’ Edith yawned.

‘On Sunday?’ He looked confused.

‘No, no, not for a while.’ She was aware of the ticking clock that would spirit her away soon enough. ‘Sure, yes, why not? I’d love to come and see you guys on Sunday.’

The decision was made.

‘Great, after lunch? You know where it is.’

Nodding, she pictured the dilapidated wreck that had been a blot on the towpath for as long as she could remember. She was half dreading setting foot inside the place, and prayed it wasn’t damp or disgusting. Her memories of it were fairly grim. Her parents had kept her up to date with his renovation project, but they were, she knew, prone to exaggeration in their desire to paint Jimmy in the best light. It was as if on some level they wanted to remind her that it was not too late to snare the ‘one that got away!’ or maybe they just wanted to reinforce their decision to let him play such a big part in Edith’s life. Either way ...

‘See you then.’ He backed away.

She noted how he studied the facade of her building as he reached into his pocket for his keys, taking it all in and no doubt remembering how she had been the girl who wanted more, while he had looked at her with an expression of bewilderment – the boy who only wanted enough.