Million Love Songs(75)
‘If you’re sure.’
I nod. ‘I can manage.’ I want them both to leave thinking that I’m an utter saint. Besides, Daisy still seems to be floating on a happy cloud and I don’t want to spoil that for her by making her fill bin bags with rubbish.
So Joe takes Daisy’s hand and I watch as they walk away through the trees. Then, after a moment, she turns back and runs down the path towards me.
To my surprise, she grabs me and holds me in a tight hug. ‘Thank you, Ruby,’ Daisy says and kisses my cheek without prompting. Then she races to catch up with her dad once more.
I resist doing the air punch that’s inside me in case she sees. But it’s there, nevertheless.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
Mason turns up halfway through my shift. He catches my wrist as I pass the bar and gives me a puzzled look. ‘Why are you looking so pleased with yourself, Brown? I’ve never seen a more smug smile. What’s going on?’
‘I’m happy,’ I tell him.
‘Excellent. Let’s celebrate at my club afterwards.’
‘No thanks.’
He pouts. ‘Then we can go back to my place and have sensationally sordid sex.’
‘No thanks.’
‘Don’t you even want to think about it?’
‘No thanks.’
‘You ran out on me the other week after the launch party with no explanation.’
‘I know. Sorry about that.’
He puffs out an exasperated breath. ‘Playing hard to get is pointless when you get to a certain age.’
‘I’ll remember that.’
Mason stomps off.
So I serve polenta and couscous and other posh grub to my customers and am ridiculously busy until closing time and, by then, Mason has gone.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Flushed with success from Daisy’s hit party, Joe and I try a family film night at his house. One of their favourites, Despicable Me. It’s one that I haven’t seen as I normally go for chick-flicks or anything with Ryan Gosling in it. Or, preferably, a chick-flick with Ryan Gosling in it.
We sit on the sofa in a cosy line, snuggled under blankets, hugging huge bowls of popcorn and unfeasibly large bottles of fizzy drink.
The house is a small, three-bed semi in Emerson Valley, one of the nicer areas of Milton Keynes. It’s a modern estate, but built before the squeeze on land so the streets are tree-lined, the gardens more than handkerchief-sized and Joe’s house backs onto some lovely parkland. Inside, it’s very much a family home, a bit unkempt and much-loved. The hall is filled with discarded shoes and smells slightly of teenage boy’s trainers. Joe says he’s going to try to keep it on until they’re at least eighteen, if he can afford it by himself, as this has been the kids’ only home and moving them would be a trauma too far.
My relationship with Daisy has improved a lot. She’s more relaxed with me and nestles nonchalantly against my side as we sit together. We have found some common ground in fairy wings and unicorns, it appears. Who’d have thought? The momentary appearance of Goth Daisy has been forgotten and she’s back in head-to-toe pink. Earlier she let me paint her fingernails for her and I passed muster in that department too. At her suggestion, she put my mobile number into her phone so that she can text me. Progress indeed. I feel as if it’s a series of tests that I have to complete to win her affections. Yet it seems to be working, in a small way.
Can’t say the same about Tom, though. I’ve no idea how to reach out to him. You can’t exactly throw a few unicorns at a fifteen-year-old boy and hope they’ll stick. Although we’re next to each other on the sofa, he sits as far away from me as humanly possible, making sure there is clear air, and sends regular death-stares in my direction. I do nothing but respond politely and kindly. He’s a kid and he’s hurting. I get that. But he’s so sullen and hostile that it’s bloody hard.
We like to think that children aren’t affected by divorce, that they bounce back and cope with everything we adults throw at them. And they do. To a point. Yet who wouldn’t be damaged by their mum walking out on them, no matter how many times that they’re reassured that they’re still loved? He sees me as a threat, obviously. Perhaps he thinks that I’m the one who is preventing Gina from coming home again, but that’s far from the truth. They don’t talk about their mum’s new partner and I wonder if they’re putting him through agonies too or are they more accepting of him.
It seems as if Gina is taking her responsibilities lightly in the face of finding new love. The kids are supposed to see her every other weekend and one night in the week, but Joe tells me that she often cancels at the last minute – leaving Daisy heartbroken and Tom angry.
I’m trying not to take sides or get too involved in their family dynamics. I take my hat off to anyone who can be a stepmum though and I do wonder if I’ll ever manage to be fully part of their lives. However, I don’t just want to see Joe away from his home as that’s not real, is it? If I’m going to be part of his life, then we can’t keep it all separate. Despite the comedy antics on the screen and the lovely, buttery bowl of popcorn to comfort me, my mood is quite low. If I’m perfectly honest with you, I like the feeling I get when I’m with them all. I’ve never done snuggling up with a family before – not since I was a kid myself, anyway – and I’m surprised how much I’ve enjoyed it. I want to do more of this. If only both of the kids would like me.