Million Love Songs(73)

Standing back, I admire my handiwork. I’ve got it all ready in the nickiest-nick of time. It looks flipping amazing, even though I say it myself. Considering I’ve pulled it all together in a week, I’m so chuffed. If Mason ever gives me the sack from the pub, I could very well try my hand at event planning. I tell you, I have previously undiscovered talents. I can only hope now that the birthday girl loves it too.

A text comes in from Charlie. Good luck, chick! Hope it goes well! xx Plus a gazillion emoticons of unicorns, fairies, princesses and kisses. Oh, my word, I wish with all my heart that she was here with me. Charlie would know what to do. She’d make sure the party goes with a swing. With some effort and a bit of advanced contortion, I manage to put some fairy wings on myself. Yay!

Then, before I know it, I hear footsteps and I turn to see Joe behind me. He’s holding Daisy by the shoulders and she has both of her eyes covered.

‘We made it,’ Joe says. ‘Though it was a close run thing. Outfit issues.’

I stare at Daisy, horrified, and my mouth drops open. All the girly pink stuff, the embroidered sweatshirts, the skinny leggings – gone! The sequined trainers have been dispensed with, only to be replaced by footwear that look remarkably like Doc Martens. She’s wearing a white T-shirt, black biker-style jacket, black jeans and a faceful of make-up. Her curls, as unruly as her father’s, are now poker straight. You know in Grease when transformed goody two shoes Sandy turns up to meet bad boy Danny in her spray-on trousers, red lippy and looking at least thirty years old? That.

Joe, seemingly oblivious to this, gives me the thumbs-up and I nod, numbly. ‘Open your eyes, Daisy,’ he says.

When she does, Daisy stands there gaping in horror and then manages to say in a voice hoarse with shock, ‘Thank you, Daddy.’

‘It’s not down to me, Princess. Ruby has organised it all for you.’ He mouths to me. ‘Fantastic job.’

And you have no idea how grateful I am for that.

‘Wow,’ she says, but not in a good way.

‘Well, I’m off. I’m going to leave you two to have fun,’ he says. ‘I’ll be back later.’

‘Don’t go,’ I say, panic-stricken. ‘Stay.’

‘I’ve got to pick Tom up from a music rehearsal. I promise I won’t be long.’ Then he winks at me. ‘You girls have fun. Lovin’ the fairy wings, by the way.’

I am thirty-eight and I am wearing fairy wings. I think it shows that I am youthful and fun. Daisy is clearly looking at me and seeing a pathetic old hag who should know better.

Joe kisses Daisy on the head and then walks away from us.

‘I hope you like it,’ I try tentatively.

She turns to me open-mouthed.

‘I thought it would be fun. Your dad said that you love unicorns and fairies. Princesses too,’ I add, lamely.

‘That was when I was twelve,’ she replies, loftily. ‘I’m thirteen now. I’ve moved on.’

‘I can see.’ Then I sigh with resignation. This is all a terrible mistake. I should have just booked them in for manicures somewhere. They’d have been in their element. ‘Your friends will be here soon. Let’s just try to enjoy it,’ I offer. ‘Do you want a tiara or some fairy wings to wear? Maybe both? You can never have enough sparkle.’

Daisy just stands and stares at me, hands bunched into tight, cross little fists. The look she gives me is the blackest of black and I’m surprised that I don’t simply drop down dead on the spot. ‘Seriously, do you think I’m five?’

‘I’m sorry that you don’t like it, Daisy. I thought you would. It’s done now and I think we should try to make the best of it. I realise that I’ve read this all wrong.’ I feel awful that I’m actually going to ruin Daisy’s birthday party when all I did was try my very best.

She is as still as a stone, radiating fury. ‘That’s because you don’t know me. You might think you do, but you don’t know me at all. And that’s because you’re not my mother.’

I don’t point out to her that I’m here due to the fact that her mum is in Italy or Spain or somewhere with her new boyfriend, pretending to be working while they’re probably shagging each other senseless in between bouts of sightseeing. I speak as someone who knows about these things. The only thing I know is that her mother’s not bloody well here. I am.

But you don’t say that to a traumatised thirteen-year-old, do you? Instead, I say more calmly than I feel, ‘I don’t want to replace your mum, Daisy. I’m doing this because your dad asked me to and because I’d like to be your friend.’

That is clearly cutting no ice with her. She views me as her sworn enemy. The woman who is trying to steal her father’s affections away from her.

‘Your friends are due in a minute,’ I add. ‘For their sake, we’ll both have to make the best of it.’

She doesn’t say ‘fuck you’ but I can feel it emanating from her pores. I’m simply going to have to plough on and hope for the best.

On cue, ten hyperactive, giggling girls arrive and all I can do now is try to get through this without both of us dying of embarrassment.





Chapter Sixty-Five





The girls troop towards us in an excited line, escorted by a couple of the mums. I’m just feeling awful now. This is a disaster waiting to happen. These young girls all look too cool for skool. Sassy and self-assured. I’m sure I wasn’t that confident or grown-up at twelve. I’m not sure that I am now.