Cold as Ice (Willis/Carter #2)(11)

‘Would you like to skate with the penguins?’ He nodded and pointed excitedly at the skating rink. ‘Is that okay?’ She looked up at Danielle who nodded. ‘You’ll have to take him on though?’ said Tracy. ‘I’m not really dressed for it.’

Tracy bought the tickets; she paid for one adult and one child. They sat at the side waiting for their turn. Tracy had the privilege of a box to sit on as she sipped her coffee and watched the children skating around the frozen rink. Tracy took the opportunity to study her daughter’s profile.

She was looking for traces of her own. Their colouring might be different: Danielle was darker, but still somehow reminded Tracy of herself, the way she’d been all those years ago when she’d fallen pregnant at fifteen. A skinny girl, just a slip of a thing, thought Tracy. Looks like she could do with a good meal. People used to say that about Tracy – not now of course! Something else . . . Tracy’s heart surged a little – yes – Danielle had her father’s nose, his chin. Yes – she looked like him.

Danielle turned from squatting beside Jackson, who was playing with his gloves.

‘I didn’t think you’d want to see me,’ she said as she glanced Tracy’s way, held her gaze for a second and then turned back to look at Jackson.

Tracy didn’t know what to say. She looked down at Jackson; he was pointing at the penguins in delight.

‘My goodness.’ Tracy shook her head. ‘Why on earth not?’

Danielle shrugged. She looked down at her coffee and didn’t answer.

‘How old is Jackson?’ She was struggling to think of safe ground.

‘Four.’

‘And he’s at school?’

‘Just started this term. He goes in the mornings. He’s working up to “all day”.’

‘Does he enjoy it?’

‘Yeah, he likes it a lot. He’s quite shy. He has difficulty communicating sometimes. People don’t understand what he’s trying to say. School’s done a lot for him, brought him out of his shell. He doesn’t see many people besides me.’

‘What about his grandparents – the couple who adopted you, Marion and Gerald? The Fosters?’

‘My mum Marion died last year. My dad, Gerald, doesn’t talk to me. He doesn’t want anything to do with me or Jackson – never did.’

‘Oh dear; I’m so sorry to hear that.’

‘My mum was lovely but she was sick for so much of my life. She got one form of cancer after the other.’

‘Oh . . . I’m sorry. It must have been hard.’

‘You never had any kids then?’ Tracy shook her head, didn’t know what she should say. She was searching for a tissue in her bag. ‘Will you?’ Danielle persisted. ‘After all, it’s not too late, is it?’

‘No, I suppose not; Steve and I – we’re just not in a good position to right now, financially. Steve’s my husband. We’ve been married for fifteen years. He works for a storage company. Things are not easy for us, financially – well, it’s a difficult time for everyone, isn’t it?’

It had crossed Tracy’s mind that if Danielle should ask for money Tracy better make sure she understood that there wasn’t any to be had.

‘Is there ever a good time to have kids?’ Danielle asked.

‘No, I suppose not. So you never see him then – your dad?’

‘No. I haven’t seen him since he chucked me out when I got pregnant.’

Tracy felt an overwhelming surge of pity – it hadn’t been like that for her when she got pregnant. Other people took over the problem for her. They took it away.

‘I’m sorry, Danielle, really sorry.’

‘Yeah . . . I went to live with Jackson’s dad but he wasn’t the best either.’

‘Where do you live now?’

‘I have a flat, housing association. It’s a high-rise and the estate’s old, bit rough. But it’s ours for as long as we want it. Jackson and I have been in there nine months now.’

‘But, Jackson’s dad? Surely . . .’

‘Yeah – well, we’re doing fine, aren’t we, J?’ She squeezed Jackson’s leg to make him giggle.

Tracy was struggling to stay calm and to understand what was happening. She had rehearsed this meeting so many times but none of the times resembled the reality of it. Jackson’s turn came to go on the ice. Tracy stood and straightened her coat. She took Danielle’s empty cup from her and stacked it inside her own.

‘I’m really sorry I can’t stay longer. I have to go back to work.’

Danielle looked at her with the wounded eyes of a child, quickly obscured by a practised indifference.

‘Sure. Thanks for coming. You have my number. It’s up to you if you want to see us again.’

‘Yes of course; I’d love to.’ Tracy said it but she wasn’t sure she meant it. ‘I’ll ring. Sorry. It’s all a bit of a shock, isn’t it? I’ll phone you later if that’s okay?’ When she looked back she saw Danielle leaning over Jackson, he was straining to get out of the buggy and take his turn on the ice; Danielle was watching Tracy as she walked away. Tracy couldn’t wait to get back to Simmons and the Christmas rush. There were dozens of Christmas orders to box up and tie with ribbons. Jazmina would be desperate for her return.