Impossible to Forget(68)

‘This was a lovely idea, Ange,’ she said. ‘Thank you for asking me. It’s just what I needed, a trip out of York and some sea air.’

Angie took a deep breath, filling her lungs to the very bottom, held it for a count of five and then let it out slowly. She repeated the exercise several more times, feeling her heartbeat slow and her body release some of its stress. Her mind, though, felt strangely unsettled. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, but something was making her feel out of kilter. It felt as if there was something that needed to be spoken, to be released so that it could stop troubling her. She just wasn’t sure what it was. Something to do with Maggie’s future, probably. There were so many unanswered questions there and she hadn’t delved, waiting instead for Maggie to want to talk to her. Something was definitely nagging at Angie, though, blocking her chakras and leading to this disconcerting feeling of imbalance.

And then she realised what was wrong. The unsettled feeling wasn’t anything to do with Maggie, although that issue would need to be resolved in due course. No, the cause of her disquietude was the photographer’s shop window: all those pictures of family groups.

Things like that didn’t generally bother her. She had been without a family since she’d first been taken into care and so didn’t think in terms of neat little nuclei. There was her and there was Romany, and that was that.

But what if that wasn’t really that? Could it be that what worked well for her was failing to work for her daughter? It wasn’t a discussion that they had had, not recently anyway, and suddenly, it felt vitally important to discuss it. Right there, right now.

‘Romany?’ she began.

Romany was chewing on a stalk of grass, pulling it between her teeth to extract the sweet innards.

‘Mmm,’ she replied lazily.

‘Do you mind that you don’t know who your father is? I mean, does it bother you?’

There. It was out. She had said it. She saw Maggie’s expression change, grey eyes roaming across Angie’s face curiously, trying to establish where this question had come from and whether she should be there to hear the reply, but Romany didn’t move. She continued to stare up at the clouds as they scudded across the blue.

Nobody spoke. The birds sang, children shouted to each other as they ran up the 199 steps, in the distance you could just make out the chimes of an ice cream van, but not one of them said a word. Angie began to wonder whether she had failed to say the words out loud. Maybe the sentence, so clearly spoken, had only been in her head. She looked over at Romany to check for some outward indication that she had heard her. Romany was still lying on her back and staring at the sky, her legs crossed, the upper one swinging idly back and forth.

Angie turned to look at Maggie and raised an eyebrow. Maggie looked mystified too, so Angie supposed that her question had been audible.

‘No,’ said Romany eventually, and Angie switched her attention back to her daughter. ‘I don’t mind, it doesn’t bother me, and I’m not interested,’ she added.

Angie felt her heart soar, vindicated by those few words, not that she had ever thought, until that moment, that Romany had reason to blame her for anything. She and Jax had never made any particular decision about it. There had been no deeply held conviction that he should, or indeed, should not, be involved in his daughter’s life.

It just hadn’t happened.

Angie knew that Romany would have been well within her rights to be angry with her, to hold her mother responsible for her father’s lack of contact. It had been Angie, after all, who had let the connection drop by not sending a forwarding address when they moved to the current flat.

However, Romany was unconcerned; or so it appeared, at least. Angie had been confident that Romany was not angry, but it was nice to have it confirmed.

‘In fact,’ Romany continued, speaking slowly with large gaps forming between her words, as if she were thinking through what she was saying just moments before the words came out, ‘I would go as far as to say that if I were given a choice – to meet him or not to meet him – then I’d choose not.’

Angie’s relief was palpable, but she tried not to let it show.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘That’s good.’

Then Romany sat up, a sudden movement that made Angie jump, and started looking around her at the people buzzing backwards and forwards. ‘Why? He’s not here, is he? That’s not why we’ve come here, to meet him?’ Her head spun one way and then another, her face such a picture of anxiety that Angie reached out and hugged her.

‘No, no,’ she said soothingly. ‘He’s not here.’

Romany disengaged herself and continued to survey the surroundings, albeit in a less frenzied manner.

‘No. I don’t have any contact details for him,’ Angie said. ‘I mean, I’m sure I could track him down if you wanted me to . . .’

‘I don’t,’ said Romany firmly. ‘I’m fine. We’re fine as we are. We don’t need anyone, do we?’ Her voice wavered a little towards the end and she looked at Angie as though seeking some confirmation.

‘No. You’re completely right. But I just thought I’d check.’

Romany settled herself back down on the grass, drama seemingly all passed.

‘Romey,’ said Maggie. ‘Would you be an angel and go and buy me an ice cream from that kiosk over there? Get one for yourself and your mum, too, of course. I’d like a cone, please, just plain. Ange? Do you want one?’