Bolting towards her, Luke scooped Ella off the too-high bar of the climbing frame she was trying to balance on. ‘Come on, little monkey,’ he said, trying to calm his racing heart. ‘We haven’t done any of the other stuff yet. What do you fancy, swings, slide or roundabout?’
‘Swings!’ Ella decided. ‘But you have to push me high into the sky.’
‘Your wish is my command, ma’am,’ Luke said, lowering her carefully to her feet and taking hold of her hand.
‘As high as…’ Ella glanced upwards, ‘those twigs up there.’
Luke squinted to where she was pointing – the top of one of the tall beech trees that populated the park. ‘Branches,’ he corrected her. ‘And maybe not quite that high. You’ll end up orbiting the moon.’
Ella contemplated the prospect, and then looked thoughtfully up at him. ‘Would I be able to collect Nana’s star on the way back for Mummy?’ she asked, her expression hopeful.
Luke felt his chest constrict. She was remembering something Claire had told her, he realised. Ella had been having one of those nights where nothing would induce her to sleep. He’d brought her into their bedroom, and she had noticed the framed photograph of the grandmother she’d never met that Claire kept on her bedside table. Undoubtedly sensing Claire’s sadness as she’d told her a little about her mum, Ella had asked her whether she missed her.
‘I do,’ Claire had answered honestly. ‘But I still talk to her.’
Ella had looked at her in confusion, and Claire had carried her over to the window and drawn the curtain back. ‘She’s up there,’ she’d said, pointing to the pinpricks of light in the night sky. ‘See that twinkling little star? That’s Nana. She watches over me, so I never really feel too sad or alone.
She had felt alone, though. She had confessed to Luke that there were times in her life when she’d felt the absence of her mother deeply. Luke understood, to a degree. When his dad had taken off, he’d missed him – as a boy misses having a man around, he supposed. But then his old man had only ever been on the periphery of his life, coming and going. Going mostly, to meet other women, he’d learned later. For a young girl to have lost her mother in such a tragic way, though, growing up without her guidance, that must have been so hard for Claire.
Luke had never learned the details of what had happened. Her mother had been drinking a lot, Claire had confided. Luke thought again of the wine glasses he’d seen dotted around, and hoped to God Claire wasn’t following in her footsteps. Bernard and Ruth had argued the night of the accident, a bitter argument, apparently. They’d argued often, it seemed. Claire never knew why. Bernard was reluctant to talk about it; Claire suspected that he blamed himself for his wife’s death. Having seen Bernard twice in the past checking into the hotel opposite the construction site he’d been working on, each time with a different woman, Luke wondered whether he might have had something to blame himself for. Whether he might have been a womaniser even when he was married.
Had Claire been aware of this? Was she drawing parallels between her mother’s life and her own? It might explain why she wasn’t prepared to listen to anything Luke had to say. He wished he could make her believe that he bitterly regretted what had happened, that he would never hurt her or risk their daughter’s happiness ever again. She’d never looked as alone as she had when Bernard had mentioned Ruth earlier.
‘Daddy…’ Ella tugged on his hand, reminding him that she was there.
‘Sorry, pumpkin.’ Realising they’d reached the swings, Luke turned his attention to her and the tricky question of the star. ‘Nana’s star is a little bit further away than that, sweetheart,’ he said softly, bending down to her level. ‘She has to be really high up so she can keep an eye on the people she loves. That would be you and Mummy.’
‘And you and Grandad,’ Ella added, scrutinising him hard.
‘Yup, and me and Grandad,’ Luke said, a lump rising in his throat as he realised she was trying to hold onto the people close to her. ‘Right now, I imagine she’ll be watching me to make sure I don’t launch you into space.’ Smiling, he zipped her coat up. ‘Come on, let’s see how high we can go without taking off. Which swing do you fancy?’
‘The end one,’ Ella said, twirling around to set off at a run.
Luke ignored the twinge in his ankle to sprint after her and pluck her out of the path of one of the other swings. He offered the woman pushing her little boy an apologetic smile.
‘Check next time, Ella,’ he warned her, carrying her onwards as the woman rolled her eyes in empathy. ‘I’ll have heart failure at this rate.’
Noting that she looked upset as he seated her on the swing, Luke berated himself, thinking his tone had probably been a bit too harsh. ‘What is it, sweetheart?’ he asked, crouching in front of her. ‘Ella?’ he urged when she didn’t answer.
She hesitated. ‘I don’t want you to be a star, Daddy,’ she whispered, her little fingers reaching to tentatively trace the scratch on his face.
Christ. Realising what was going through his little girl’s mind, Luke felt something crack inside him. ‘Hey…’ He locked his gaze firmly on hers. Her eyes, wide blue eyes, once crystal clear with the innocence of childhood, were now shot through with heart-wrenching apprehension. ‘I’m not going anywhere, pumpkin,’ he assured her. ‘Mummy and I are not living in the same house, but we’re still friends. I’ll always be around. It’s my job to look after you.’
Still Ella looked doubtful. ‘Promise?’ she said, her voice filled with uncertainty.
‘Cross my heart.’ Luke smiled, and made sure he did cross it.
After a second, she nodded. Then, ‘Will you be coming back to live with us soon?’ she asked him.
Luke had no clue how to answer. ‘I don’t know, Ella,’ he said carefully. ‘Mummy and I… we have some things to work out. Lots of things we need to talk about.’
‘But you might?’ Ella’s expression was now filled with hope, and Luke’s heart fractured another inch. ‘I could ask Mummy to take the baby gates down now that Grandad’s going to be safe in his new home. I don’t need them because I’m quite big now,’ she added, her little face serious as she offered him the incentive she thought he needed.
He realised that she’d witnessed him falling over one of the gates, that she was imagining that was the reason he hadn’t come home. He gulped back an overwhelming sense of guilt. He’d lost his temper with Claire. Why the bloody hell had he done that? Yes, he’d been tired, struggling to do his job safely after endless nights of interrupted sleep. Fed up of the constant arguing. Frustrated as they’d lain together in the same bed barely touching. Had he considered the extra stress his attitude was creating for Claire, though? How exhausted she was? He really had been a self-centred bastard.
‘I’m honestly not sure yet, Ella.’ He answered her evasively. ‘Like I say, Mummy and I need to sit down and talk.’
Ella considered that, then, ‘Mummy will have time to sit down now,’ she said confidently.
Luke couldn’t help but smile. You couldn’t get much past his daughter. She was obviously well aware that Claire was run ragged.
‘Will you miss Grandad?’ she asked him, blindsiding him.
‘Er…’ Not sure how to answer that one either, Luke took a second. ‘A bit,’ he said eventually.
‘Mummy will miss him,’ Ella said, nodding sadly. ‘Daddy, can I ask you something?’ she tacked on before Luke could comment.
‘Anything,’ he assured her.
‘Does keeping secrets mean telling lies?’
He looked at her curiously, wondering where that had come from. ‘Possibly,’ he said, considering it. ‘If you don’t tell someone something because you want to keep the truth from them, then I suppose that’s kind of a lie.’
Again Ella nodded thoughtfully. ‘Grandad’s been keeping secrets,’ she said, and her gaze flicked down and back again.