Cold as Ice (Willis/Carter #2)(10)

Tracy had not told Jazmina exactly who she was meeting but she knew it was important and Tracy wanted to look nice for it. Jazmina had jumped to her own conclusions and believed that Tracy had finally decided to ditch boring Steve and find herself a new man and was about to embark on a steamy affair.

Tracy turned the mirror round on the counter and checked herself: her lippy was still intact. She looked at Jazmina one last time to make sure. Jazmina nodded eagerly.

‘You look great – just go for it . . .’

‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ said Tracy with a frown. She wondered if she’d missed something with Jazmina.

‘You take an hour; you’re entitled,’ Jazmina replied, giving Tracy the ‘don’t think for one moment I won’t cope’ look. ‘Just enjoy yourself – you only live once.’

‘I couldn’t possibly. I’ll be back in half an hour – promise.’

Tracy grabbed her coat and bag and slipped out from behind the counter. She left the shop, turned right then right again and onto the busy crossroads that marked the start of the German Christmas Market. She walked past the sweet counters and the mulled wine and looked around her. The place was heaving with mums pushing prams. She passed a stall selling Christmas-themed jewellery next to Santa’s Grotto. The sound of Bavarian carol music pervaded in the air, along with the smell of burnt caramel, mulled wine and Bratwurst sausage. At the exit from Santa’s Grotto she found her way suddenly blocked by a young mum pushing a little boy with Down’s syndrome. In his hand he had a pink pig. His face was flushed. Tracy looked back up from him to the young woman, who was staring at her, waiting. Tracy smiled, tried to pass. The young woman moved the buggy to block her again.

‘Tracy?’

Tracy’s heart stopped. Was this the daughter she’d given up when she was fifteen? Was this the little girl whose existence had haunted her for twenty-one years? ‘Danielle?’ Tracy did her best not to look shocked. ‘And this must be Jackson?’ She recovered fast, bent down to talk to Jackson, who stared up at her in awe, fascinated by her bright red lips and her inch-long eyelashes. ‘Who have we got here?’ Tracy tapped her fingernail on the pink pig.

Jackson held it aloft for her to see. ‘Peppa Pig,’ he said, turning back towards the Grotto and pointing, struggling to sit up and turn around to show Tracy where he’d been and where the pig came from. ‘Father Christmas give it to me.’ He held the toy up in front of her face.

‘We got here early,’ Danielle explained. Tracy stood and took a few seconds to take a good look at Danielle. She wasn’t as she imagined she’d be. As far as Tracy could make out, she didn’t look like Tracy at all. Danielle was skinny and dark and two inches taller than Tracy. She had her hair scraped back in a ponytail and not a scrap of make-up on. Tracy’s mind was in a spin – the baby in her arms. The birth, the terrible wrench she felt at giving up her baby. Was this her baby? How could she be sure?

‘You lucky boy. You must have been awfully good to get that.’ Jackson nodded, large proud nods of his head. Tracy smiled awkwardly. ‘We better find somewhere that’s not so noisy to talk. I only have half an hour – I’m sorry. It’s the busiest time of year.’ She was apologizing again. ‘I’ve left my colleague to cope alone.’ They walked past the Christmas stalls. ‘Can I get you a coffee?’

Danielle shrugged. ‘Okay.’

She pushed the buggy forward until they found a bar that had a few busy tables and a side stall selling coffee. They stood in the queue. ‘Glad you could spare the time,’ Danielle said as she pulled Jackson’s hat down further on his head. Tracy was momentarily flustered. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t get emotional. She would stay calm, stay focused. She had so wanted her daughter to be living the dream – Tracy’s dream. She wanted her to have the perfect life. It was what Tracy had made the ultimate sacrifice for, after all. Did this girl look like she was living the dream? thought Tracy. No she didn’t. She looked lost, tired, pale and cold.

‘I mean – I’m glad you decided to meet me and Jackson.’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I would have tried to find you as well but I didn’t want to . . . intrude . . . you know what I mean?’ Tracy tried to relax her mouth, her frozen smile. She could feel her face was so tense that she must look like she was about to cry. Danielle stared back at Tracy with a confused look of pity and anger on her face. Tracy breathed deeply, tried a new smile. ‘I didn’t think I had the right to . . . You had your life.’ Tracy got to the front of the queue and ordered coffee. She turned to Danielle and pointed to Jackson: ‘What about him? Does he want anything?’

‘No. He’s got his drink.’

‘What about something sweet for him?’ She smiled at him.

‘No. He has to watch his weight.’

‘We can get him out of the buggy if you like. There’s a kids’ skating park just at the end of the stalls.’

Danielle didn’t answer. They collected their coffees. Tracy carried Danielle’s for her while she pushed the buggy and they moved off towards the end of the Fayre. They walked towards the sound of laughter and music coming from an area that had been a car park and was commandeered for use as the kids’ ice rink. It had been iced over and kids held on to metre-high plastic penguins that guided them around the frozen playground helping them stay upright. There was a queue but Tracy had already decided it was as good a place as any to talk. She knelt down the talk to Jackson.