It’s been easy to ignore that email, erase it from my consciousness, because I don’t want to accept it. But now, as I sit holding my phone and staring at new words, I know that I need to act faster.
Nowhere to hide
Deliberately vague, just like the first one. Yet I know exactly what it means. It means that I need to get Kayla back, and I need to do it now.
‘Miss, did you hear me?’ Maya’s voice breaks into my thoughts.
‘Sorry. Tell me that again.’ There are still a few minutes left of our session, but Maya has already completed all the tasks I’ve set her today.
‘I was asking you what you think I should do. About this.’ She rubs her stomach. There’s no bump there yet; her action must be purely instinctual. I haven’t seen her since she revealed her unplanned pregnancy during our last session, and it’s taken almost an hour for her to bring it up, so I’m a bit taken aback that she has.
‘Oh. Um. Well, it’s your decision of course. Only you know what’s right for you.’
She raises her eyebrows. ‘Please don’t say that. I know you’re right, but I want to know what you think I should do. What would you do?’
Part of me wishes I could tell her the truth: that I’m the last person she should be seeking advice from. ‘I don’t know if I can answer that,’ I say. ‘It’s got to be your choice, Maya. I can’t influence your decision; it wouldn’t be right.’
She stares at the ceiling and her eyes start to glisten. ‘My choice.’
‘Yes, that’s what I want to make clear. This is your choice – nobody else’s. It’s your body.’ I pause, wondering whether to ask this next question, or if it’s delving too deeply into her personal life. She’s already told me about the pregnancy, though, so it’s probably too late to worry about that. ‘Does the father know?’
She nods. ‘Yes. And he’s a good guy. We’ve been together a few months, and he says he’s happy with whatever decision I make.’
I’m relieved to hear this. ‘Does he go to your school?’
‘No. He’s a bit older than me. Twenty-two. I know his cousin and we all just hang out sometimes. That’s how we met. But he really is decent. He’s just finished college.’
‘You’re both so young,’ I say.
‘I know, but we could make this work, couldn’t we?’
Maya is desperate for me to give her an answer, to help her reach a decision, when I should have nothing to do with this. ‘Yes, if that’s what you really want. Plenty of people have children young. Do your parents know?’
‘No, but I won’t be able to hide it for much longer. I might start being sick or something soon.’ She gently pats her stomach. ‘I will tell them. I just need to get my head around it first. Once it’s out there it becomes real. No longer just about me and Connor.’ She stares at the wall for a moment, frowning. ‘I’m only eighteen. I’ve got university and then a career to think about. How would I be able to do anything?’
‘People have overcome much harder situations, Maya. But it’s important not to go through this alone. I’m sure your parents will support you if you open up to them.’
She reaches for her pen and repeatedly clicks the nib. ‘I don’t know. They’re great and everything, but we’ve never discussed anything like this. I don’t actually know how they’ll react. I think they’ll be disappointed. They just want the best for me. They’ll see this as a huge mistake.’
I think of Mum, of how much I keep from her, and not just because of her illness.
‘I’m sure they’ll be there for you, no matter what. I really think you should talk to them. You’ll feel much better for it.’ My words feel hollow, as if there is no meaning behind them. I am the last person who should be giving Maya advice about her pregnancy.
‘I do feel better just talking to you,’ she says, taking me by surprise again, because I’m not sure how I’m able to talk to her about pregnancy.
‘I can’t tell you what to do, Maya, but I can listen if that’s what you need.’
‘Do you want children, miss?’
Her question shoots out so suddenly it floors me, takes away my breath. ‘It’s got to be the right time,’ I manage to say.
‘Yes, you’re right,’ she says. ‘And this isn’t for me, is it? How will I ever do anything? I’ve got at least another twenty years to think about having a baby. I must be crazy.’ She starts gathering her things together.
‘No, Maya, I didn’t mean it like that. My situation is very different.’ I should tell her about trying for so long to have a successful pregnancy, about how we can’t just assume we will have a baby the minute we decide we’re ready. I can’t speak about any of that, though, because I fear once I start I won’t be able to stop. And no one can know.
‘It’s not different, though, is it? And you’re older than me, so how can I even think that I’m ready for this when you aren’t yourself?’
Her tears come hard and fast now, and I instantly put my personal discomfort aside and rush forward to hug her. ‘Look, just calm down and don’t do anything hasty. This is a huge decision to make, and the pregnancy hormones could be playing havoc with you. I strongly recommend you take some time to think about it all. And please will you talk to your parents? And talk to Connor some more. Make sure you both see things the same way, that’s so important, Maya. You’re in this together, aren’t you?’
She nods, but when she looks up at me her expression is blank. And when she walks out of the door, I realise I have made things worse.
There’s no answer when I ring Sophie’s doorbell, standing here as if two years haven’t passed, as if I was only here yesterday. There is no telling how she’ll react to seeing me, but I need to be with my daughter and, of all people, Sophie should understand that.
After a few more seconds of silence, I turn to walk away, resolving to come back tomorrow, and then I hear my name. I recognise the deep tone immediately. It’s Damien. I wonder if he’s her husband now – they were always talking about getting married. He’s standing by the open side gate, staring at me with a frown. How long has he been watching me?
‘Eve, is that you? My God, it is.’ He’s still frowning, and staring at me as if I’m a hallucination, some trick of his mind. I can only imagine what’s going through his head.
Taking a step forward, I assure myself I can do this. I’ve got to get used to the shock I will invoke in people when I reappear. ‘I know this must be a bit of a surprise but is Sophie here? I really need to talk to her.’
He glances at the house and walks towards me. ‘She’s not home. She took the twins to the park.’
‘The one around the corner?’
He nods and continues staring at me. I almost wish he would just ask me why I did it; it couldn’t be any worse than facing his silent disapproval.
‘I’ll go and find her there, then,’ I declare, and although he doesn’t say anything, it feels as though his eyes are tracing my movements as I walk away.
The park is exactly as I remember it. It’s Saturday, so it’s busier than usual and this fuels my confidence. Somehow, it feels as though it will be easier to talk to Sophie while we’re surrounded by people. I can’t explain why; perhaps it’s something to do with there being safety in numbers.
The twins will be around three and a half years old now, unrecognisable to me, just as Kayla was the other day. They, like my daughter, won’t even know who I am, even though their mother was once my closest friend.
Nerves overwhelm me as I get closer to the bright yellow gate. I don’t know if I’m ready for this, but if it brings me to Kayla then I have to see it through. Whatever it takes.
Sophie’s standing in between two swings, easily pushing both of the twins at once. Nothing’s changed then; Sophie, for all her initial reluctance, still makes motherhood look easy. She’s wearing a grey hooded top and skinny jeans with white trainers; her hair is tied up in a messy bun on top of her head. A mum bun she always called it. A pair of oversized sunglasses are perched on her head, and she looks effortlessly glamorous, even dressed so casually. The boys, of course, are huge compared to my memory of them, and I would never have recognised them as hers.
As I watch the three of them, I wonder what kind of mother I would have been if things had been different. If I had been able to stay with my daughter. It’s a question I’ll never know the answer to.
Sophie spots me the second I’m through the gate, squinting at me through the sunlight. Stopping her rhythmic pushing of the swings, she stands shaking her head with her hands on her hips, waits for me to approach.
‘I didn’t believe it when Damien texted me just now,’ she says. ‘I told him he must be mistaken and he’d got you mixed up with someone else. I said there’s no way, but it’s really you.’ She lifts the twins from their swings. ‘Just play on your own for a second, boys. Mummy needs to speak to someone.’
Someone. That’s all I am to her now.
‘What the hell, Eve?’ she says once the twins are out of earshot.
Where do I begin? There’s so much I can’t bring myself to explain to her, not before I’ve talked to Aiden first. I hope she’ll understand that.
Sophie doesn’t give me a chance to say anything. ‘Does Aiden know you’re back?’
‘No. I know I’ve got a lot of explaining to do,’ I tell her. I barely recognise my voice. I’m not used to speaking to people who know things about me. ‘Can we go over there?’ I point to the bench that a mother and her toddler have just vacated. ‘You can still see the twins from there.’
‘Fine,’ she says. ‘Boys, I’ll just be over there.’
‘Go on then,’ she says as soon as we’ve sat down. With no sunglasses on, the sun glares at me and I can barely see her, so I stare straight ahead, watching her sons tear around the park. They are carefree in a way that Kayla will probably never be. I have scarred her for life with my actions.
‘I’m sorry,’ I say. ‘I don’t know how to begin trying to explain, but I just want you to know that I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s not me you need to apologise to,’ she says. ‘It’s Aiden. And Kayla. Your daughter.’ Sophie’s not going to make this easy for me. ‘How could you do it, Eve? Walking out on them like that. Kayla was three months old!’ She shakes her head. ‘I can’t even look at you.’
I have to face her admonishment, but I will stand my ground. There are things Sophie can never begin to understand, things I will never let her. ‘I’m here to put things right. With everyone, especially Kayla and Aiden. I needed to see you first, though.’
‘Two years later you want to put things right?’ She shakes her head again. ‘Why now?’
This is a question with too many answers. Because I’ve never stopped loving my daughter, never stopped thinking of her; because I need to put right what I did; because of that email. I try to explain to Sophie that I’m here to do what’s right for Kayla, but, understandably, she is struggling to get past her anger.
‘Look at me, please. You were my best friend and I let you down, I know that. But if our friendship meant anything to you then can you please put your anger aside and help me?’
Her expression softens, offering me a glimmer of hope that we can get through this together. ‘You’ve hurt people, Eve. The people who cared about you the most, and now you just want… what? Forgiveness? That’s asking a lot.’
I fight the urge to hang my head, shrink into myself; I will stand my ground in spite of everything. Sophie has always had the ability to diminish people. I just never thought she could, or would, do it to me.
‘You met someone else, didn’t you?’ she demands. ‘Thought you could have a better life with him? After everything you went through with Aiden. My God.’
‘No! That’s not what happened – I swear to you.’
She turns away from me, focuses her attention on the twins. ‘That’s what we all assumed. Including Aiden. Why did you leave, then?’
‘I… I just had to. Please look at me, Soph.’
She turns to me and her eyes narrow. I’m fighting a battle I can’t win here.
‘Can we meet up later and talk somewhere else?’ I ask. ‘When the twins are in bed? Around eight maybe? We can talk about it all then.’
She shakes her head. ‘I don’t think you coming to my house is a good idea. You shouldn’t have even gone there just now. Haven’t you heard of calling? Giving people a warning when you’re about to reappear out of the blue?’
Her words sting, but I let it go. ‘If you don’t want me in your house then come to my flat.’ I reach into my bag and scribble my address on a sheet of paper. It would be much easier to tell her it verbally so she could put it in her phone, but I don’t want to give her any excuse to not take it.
‘I don’t know,’ she says.
‘Just think about it, please, Soph. I’ll be home all evening.’
Even though I don’t want to leave without any assurance that she’ll come, I stand up and walk back through the park, ignoring the joyful squeals of laughter that fill the air. The sounds of family life that I will never have.
It’s up to Sophie now. I just hope she’s quick because the clock is ticking and it’s only a matter of time before I get another email. Or worse.