He looked the same. Older, of course, but the same. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt with a sport logo that I didn’t recognise. I could see that he was in good shape still. His sandy hair was streaked grey and had receded at the front, so that his forehead was larger and more pronounced than it had once been. But his eyes were just the same as I remembered them. Teasing. Flirtatious. And mocking. I glanced through the window to the pool. Helena was sitting on a bench near the poolside chatting to one of her teammates. I stood up so that I was directly in front of Martin, blocking his view of her.
“What are you doing here?” My voice sounded shallow and reedy.
He continued to smile. “I’ve come to see my son. He’s coaching a young lady who’s competing here.”
I narrowed my eyes and said nothing.
“And you?” he asked, still smiling. “What are you doing here?”
I didn’t answer him.
“Isn’t this a coincidence?” he said.
I continued to stand there, rooted to the spot, looking into his face. I could see both Sky and Helena in his features; there was no mistaking that he was their father. Martin moved his head to one side of me and looked in through the pool window. Zara stood up next to me and tried to obscure his view further, and I nearly laughed because she barely came up to his chest.
“Hello Zara,” he said. “How are you?”
“Hello. I’m good. Thanks,” she mumbled, looking down at her feet and then at me, for guidance.
“Well.” Martin looked me up and down. “You look good, Lizzie. Really good. How long has it been? Let’s see. A little over eighteen years, I’d say?”
My heart was beating hard against my chest. I didn’t trust myself to speak. My knees were weak. I realised that they were actually trembling and I hoped that Martin wouldn’t see that.
“Ah, there he is,” said Martin, looking up. “My son. Seems he’s following in his old man’s footsteps. Swimming must be in the blood. You know him, right?”
I nodded. “Yes. Catherine and I...”
“You’re friends again. Of course you are.” Martin said, and added, “That’s great,” as if he was giving his blessing to our friendship. He clearly thought that we needed it. It made me feel angry and patronised, as well as helpless.
He looked back through the window to the pool. I followed his gaze. Sky was walking over to the bench where Helena was sitting. A whistle blew. The first heat was about to start, but I didn’t know what to do. I needed to know what Martin’s next move would be. If he went in, to the poolside, she would see him. Would she know who he was? Would she guess? Or did she maybe even know what he looked like already? I realised with sudden clarity that she must; of course she must. Sky was bound to have shown her a photo of him. She was bound to have been curious. It was highly unlikely that she wouldn’t have asked.
The whistle blew again and we all turned to face the window. It felt as though my legs were going to give way. I hoped that Martin would at least walk away from us so that I wasn’t standing next to him. I couldn’t be standing next to him when she looked for me, if she did.
“Not going in?” Martin asked.
I shook my head and sat down. Perhaps if Zara and I stayed here and he went on in and sat at a seat at the back then she wouldn’t notice him. Maybe she’d be too psyched up to spot him. If he did that, I’d go in too and hover near the door so that she could see me and know I was there, cheering her on. But I couldn’t be the first one to go in, in case he followed, right behind me, in an obvious way. Plus, I needed to keep him in sight, whilst I figured out what to do next.
Martin didn’t go in. Instead, he walked over to the viewing window and settled himself in the corner, a few metres away from us. He pulled out a plastic chair and sat on it with one foot up on the window ledge. He focused intently through the glass. Sky was standing in front of Helena. He handed her a towel, patted her on the shoulder and walked away. I didn’t have to see Martin’s face to know that he’d just seen that exchange, or to know that it wasn’t Sky that he was now watching intently, but Helena.
I took a deep breath and looked at Zara. She opened her mouth to speak but I quickly shook my head to silence her. I beckoned to her slightly and we got up and walked over to the coffee machine so that we were nearer the door to the poolside, and out of Martin’s earshot.
“What do you want?” I asked her loudly.
“I don’t really want another one,” whispered Zara.
“Yes you do,” I hissed, and fed some more money into the machine. I ordered her a hot chocolate and Zara took it and sipped at it.
I saw Martin glance briefly over at us but his attention was now focused on the pool and on Helena, who was now lined up ready to dive. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
The whistle blew again and she was in the water. She was right that her swim times had improved. She was way ahead of her closest opponent before the first lap was over and her tumble was neat and efficient, which gave her an even better lead on the second length. I felt conflicted. Half of me was proud – I could see that she’d developed her technique, as well as her times, in the months since I’d last seen her swim. The other half of me was terrified about what this might mean to him.
Sky spotted Martin through the window as he walked round the pool. A vague smile crossed his face and he looked away again as if he hadn’t seen him, and then looked around at the spectator area, clearly looking for me.
“The meddling bastard,” I whispered.
“Him?” Zara whispered back, nodding at Martin.
“No. Sky. I’m not going to be responsible for what I do to him when I get him on his own.” The stress and fear inside me was turning fast to rage.
“You think Sky asked him here?”
“I know Sky asked him here. Martin told us, didn’t he? He came to see his son. Only he didn’t, of course. He came to see his daughter.”
Zara shook her head. “I don’t think he knows who she is, Lizzie. He said Sky told him he was coaching someone, but he doesn’t know who.”
I turned to face her. “He knows,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m 100 per cent positive,” I said.
I walked nearer to the window and Zara followed me. I could now see Martin’s face, though I couldn’t read it. Helena was on the final lap and he looked both engrossed and excited. She finished easily, a good two metres ahead of her closest opponent. We all watched her get out of the pool and walk off towards the bench and the team coach, who shook her hand and nodded as he spoke to her. She then walked over to the door to the shower and changing area and disappeared. My heart stopped in my chest.
“She’s gone for a shower. She’s getting out,” whispered Zara.
“I know.”
Martin stood up and walked over to us. “Well, it’s been nice.”
“You’re leaving?” I asked, surprised.
“Oh Lizzie, don’t look so sad,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again soon.”
I opened my mouth but nothing came out.
“I mean,” Martin continued. “Now that we have this common interest.” He paused and looked me directly in the eye. “In regional junior swimming competitions.”
And then he was gone, striding off towards the door. Zara got up and followed him towards the exit.
“Where are you going?” I hissed.
“Toilet,” she said, loudly. Then more quietly, “To make sure he goes.”
I nodded.
Martin exited the doors ahead of her and she ran into the corner near the entrance and peered out of the window.
I put my head in my hands and tried very hard not to cry. My stomach ached from the tension.
“He’s gone,” said Zara, falling into a chair beside me and heaving a huge sigh. “He’s got a black BMW. I saw him get in and drive off.”
She put her arm round my shoulder and gave me a squeeze.
“I’ll kill him,” I said. “I’ll bloody well wipe that bloody permanent smile off his stupid face.”
“Martin?”
I put my head in my hands and wiped my eyes. “Yes. Martin.”
I felt Zara nudge me. I looked up. Sky was standing next to me.
I leaped to my feet. “What have I ever done to you?” I hissed at him, tears of anger forming again in my eyes. Sky took a step backwards. “She told you she didn’t want to know him. Why couldn’t you just respect that? Why did you have to interfere?”
“Hey!” Sky made a ‘back off’ motion with his hands. “I didn’t know he was going to be here, alright?”
“Of course you did!” I said, but more quietly. I knew that Helena could walk out of the changing rooms at any moment. “And it’s not alright. It’s not alright at all.”
“Look, it’s a free country,” Sky said, defensively. “I sent him an email, told him I was coaching now. Why wouldn’t I? It’s what he does. I wanted some tips and I knew he’d be interested. But I didn’t know he was going to turn up. What can I say? He obviously wanted to watch me in action.”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Sky. Wake up,” I said. “It’s not you he came to see. He didn’t even wait to talk to you.”
Zara shot me a warning look, and I knew I’d gone too far. I instantly regretted what I’d said, but I couldn’t bring myself to apologise after what he’d done.
“You’ve told him about her,” I accused him.
“No, I haven’t,” Sky retorted. “But if I had, then that’s between me and Helena. I don’t owe you anything. You of all people.”
He turned on his tail and walked back onto the poolside, pushing the door hard and leaving it swinging behind him.
I turned to Zara. “What does he mean, ‘you of all people’?”
“I don’t know. Ignore him, Lizzie. He’s just been caught out, that’s all.”
I sat back down and pressed my fingers against my forehead, where a headache was beginning to form. I rubbed at my temples in a circular motion.
“I kind of believe him, though,” Zara continued. “Martin didn’t stay to talk to him. So, maybe he knew that he shouldn’t have come and that Sky wouldn’t have wanted him to. Maybe that’s why he left. And, in fact, if he knew about Helena being his daughter, then he’d have stayed to talk to them both, wouldn’t he? He’d have wanted to get to know her. But, he didn’t go anywhere near her. He didn’t even go in to the poolside.”
I shook my head. “He knows, Zara. He knows alright. He’s just playing mind games, that’s all. Coming right out and saying it, and confronting me about her, that would just be too straightforward for him. Sky’s told him about Helena – because he wanted to. He couldn’t resist telling him. What better way to get Martin back into his life? And, even if Sky did tell him not to come here tonight, he would have known that Martin would want to come and check her out.”
“I must admit, he didn’t actually seem very surprised to see us,” Zara said. “He said it was a coincidence, but he didn’t really look very shocked to find us here, after all this time.”
“He wasn’t surprised. Not in the slightest. Otherwise he’d have pressed us on why we were here, or asked where Catherine was. She’d be the only reason I’d come to a swim competition where her son was a coach. It would make no sense otherwise.” I shook my head again. “He knew I’d be here, because Sky told him I was coming.” I laughed ironically, remembering how surprised I’d been when Helena had insisted that I come, saying that Sky wanted me here. Maybe Sky had even set up the whole thing, got both me and Martin here to cause trouble.
But even if he hadn’t, he’d told Martin about Helena, knowing how much trouble it would cause, and I’d never forgive him for that.
“Whether Sky knew he was coming or not, Martin knows Helena is his daughter. He’ll get to her. It’s only a matter of time.”
Zara thought about this for a moment. “You’re going to have to tell her, then.”
“What?”
“Tell her the truth. Just come right out and tell Helena. That Martin was here, and that he knows about her. Then at least you can stop his game.”
I took a deep breath. “But what if I’m wrong? What if he doesn’t know, after all, if Sky didn’t tell him, and he just goes away and we never see him again?”
Zara frowned. “You just convinced me that he knows.”
“I know. And I’m pretty certain that I’m right.
“You said you were. 100 per cent,” Zara reminded me.
“Well, look at the way he watched her. He wasn’t looking at Sky. He was watching her, the whole time.”
Zara shrugged. “Maybe he was interested in her as a swimmer. Impressed with what Sky had achieved with her. After all, he wouldn’t gain much by watching Sky, would he? The coach doesn’t do anything but watch from the poolside. Not once they’re in a competition situation, in the water.”
“Alright. So, what about when he said he hadn’t seen me for ‘a little over eighteen years’. How did he arrive at that figure so quickly – Helena’s age plus a few months – unless he knew?”
“Maybe he knew it was eighteen years because that’s how old Sky is. And he knew he hadn’t seen you since shortly before Sky was born.”
The door to the changing rooms opened and Helena walked out, her head wrapped up in a towel turban.
“Where were you?” she complained. “Did you even see me swim?”
“I...”
“Mum! I won the race! I was in the lead the whole time! And you missed it!”
I breathed a sigh of relief. If she hadn’t seen me through the viewing window, then she hadn’t see Martin either.
“I’m sorry, love,” I said, then added, “Zara lost her purse.”
Zara looked at me, her eyes wide.
“Oh, no.” Helena looked equally shocked. “Where? How could she lose it here?”
“I must have dropped it outside,” said Zara.
“It was stolen,” I said, at the same time.
Helena looked from me to Zara and back again.
“We had to wait for... for a member of staff to... to report it,” I added.
“Did you have much money in it?” Helena asked Zara.
“Erm. Ten pounds?” Zara looked at me for approval. I gave her an inconspicuous shrug and an ‘over-to-you’ nod. “And a precious... a precious photo,” she added.
“Of what?” Helena asked.
“Of a... a horse.”
Helena and I both stared at her.
“A horse?” Helena wrinkled up her nose. “You don’t like horses. You’re frightened of them.”
“I mean, a man.”
“Oh. Right.” Helena looked at Zara for a moment and then looked at me. “Is she alright?” she mouthed to me, as Zara bent down to pick up her handbag.
“She’ll be fine,” I mouthed back, hoping desperately that Zara wasn’t going to do anything stupid, like open up her bag and take out her purse.
I cleared my throat. “Shall we go?”
“Don’t you want to... I don’t know, check with the staff again? See if it’s been found?” Helena pointed towards the reception desk.
“No,” I said, quickly. “They’ve got her number. They’ll call us.”
“It was a man on a horse,” Zara said. “The picture. That’s what I meant.”
“Really?” Helena frowned. “Who was he then? I didn’t know any of your boyfriends could ride.”
“Erm. He wasn’t really a boyfriend,” said Zara.
“No?”
I looked at Zara and shook my head. She needed to quit while we were ahead.
“No.”
“So?” Helena persisted. “Who was he then? Who’s this jockey you’re keeping in your purse?”
“Erm. Lester Piggott,” said Zara.
“’No!’ I mouthed from behind Helena. I knew it was the only jockey that Zara could think of.
Helena burst out laughing. “Really, Zara? Lester Piggott! He’s in his seventies!”
“So?” said Zara defensively. “There’s plenty of life in him yet.”
“You know what she’s like,” I came to Zara’s aid. “She likes a challenge. And didn’t he just run off with a younger woman?”
“The bitch,” said Zara, making an astonished face, and looking at me again for approval.
I nodded. “She beat you to it. Too bad, hon. But, hey. Plenty more fish in the sea.”
Helena looked at Zara for a moment, then patted her arm. “Okay. Well, I’ll just go and say goodbye to Sky. I won’t be long.”
We watched through the viewing window nervously as Helena approached Sky, gave him a high five and chatted for a minute or two, but she came back out, still jubilant and smiling, and I could see that Sky hadn’t mentioned anything about our unexpected visitor, or about the heated exchange that had happened between us.
The drive home was uneventful. Helena chattered excitedly about her win for a while, and then lapsed into an exhausted silence. I figured that the nervous energy reserves she’d been drawing from in the last few hours were all but depleted, and it was taking all that she had left to concentrate on the drive home. I recalled that she was often like that after a competition. But she was happy, I could tell. I could tell that her mind was on the British Championships and the glory that lay ahead. I was delighted that, for her, life was so uncomplicated, so much fun.
Zara fell asleep in the back soon after we got back onto the A3, and I was left alone with my thoughts. I felt bad about lying to my daughter. So, maybe it was time to tell her the truth. It was the ideal time to do it, if I was going to, whilst we were on our own, with an entire car journey ahead of us and no interruptions. And, after all, didn’t she have a right to know? I rehearsed it over and over in my head: ‘Your father came to the pool tonight. He saw you race. He knows about you.’ It made sense to tell her, to get in there first and, as Zara said, put an end to his games. There was no way in the world that he would stay away now, not after having seen her swim tonight, not after the way he’d been watching her. Not if he knew that the beautiful, talented young woman he had been observing in the pool was his daughter.
But what if he didn’t? What then? I’d have dropped a grenade into her life, my life and all of our futures, for no good reason at all other than my temporary peace of mind. Because, temporary it would be, there was no doubt about that.
I recalled a time a couple of years back when I had suspected Helena of smoking. She’d come home a few times, smelling strongly of cigarettes. When I’d challenged her about it, she’d consistently denied it and told me I was imagining things and that I ‘needed my nose tested’, and I’d accepted her answers in the end because I soon realised that if she was smoking – just a little – then she clearly didn’t want it to be acknowledged, to become ‘real’, nor did she want to be allowed to do it openly. It was true that sometimes, if you just ignored the metaphorical elephant in the room, it might just get up and leave.
For the millionth time, I examined my motives. Could I justify keeping quiet about this, and in doing so deny my daughter a chance to know that her long-lost father had seen her swim tonight, that he’d seen her spectacular win? It would be a big thing for her. But then I thought about how Martin had been tonight. He hadn’t changed. He was a ‘player’ still. It was there in his sarcastic tone and his mocking eyes, that continuing need for one-upmanship. If I told Helena that he knew about her she’d accept him into her life. She would have good reason for doing so; she’d feel sorry for him, she’d say. She’d be thinking of him. And I wasn’t blind; I knew, deep down, that a big part of her wanted to know him too – and that were it not for me and my feelings, she’d almost certainly pick up the phone and call him herself. She thought she was protecting me. But, in fact, it was the other way round. I was protecting her, even if she didn’t know or understand that. The end justified the means. If I’d had any doubt about my motives before this evening, I’d had them confirmed tonight. I believed now, more than ever, that Martin was a malign influence, and that he’d harm my daughter in some way with his games.
I glanced across at her, sitting in the driver’s seat next to me. She was an amazing young woman. I was so very proud of her. Her life was just beginning; she had her whole future ahead of her, with nothing to hold her back. She was remarkably stable, ‘together’, confident, well-adjusted. She was something that Zara and I – with our individual childhood legacies – could only dream of; she was every young woman I’d looked at and envied when I was her age. She could be whatever she wanted to be and I’d be there, cheering her on, for the rest of my life. So why would I assist in bringing that manipulative, emotionally crippled, self-centred rapist into hers?
I took a deep breath. I’d made up my mind. There was no way I was going to tell her about him. Not now. Not yet. Not if I wasn’t 100 per cent certain that the time had come for me to do so.
Helena saw me watching her and heard me sigh. “Whassup?” she smiled back.
“Nothing,” I said. “I love you. That’s all.” I started to cry.
“I love you too, Mummy.” Helena looked baffled. “You know that. Why are you crying?”
I smiled. “I don’t know,” I lied.
“You big softy,” she said. “I know what it is. You’re missing Christian. That’s all it will be.”
I nodded. “I expect so.”
“So, why don’t you phone him?” she suggested. “When you get home? When was the last time you spoke to him?”
“The day before yesterday,” I said.
“Well, give him a call,” she said. “He’ll be glad to hear from you.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll do that.”
Helena reached across and patted my hand. “Make sure you do.”