‘Claire, hi. I’m so glad you could make it.’ A woman Claire assumed to be Sophie pulled the front door of the house open almost before she’d rung the buzzer. ‘Come in, come in,’ she beamed, stepping back to hold the door wide.
Claire offered her a tentative smile back and guided Ella in before her.
‘And you must be Ella?’ Sophie smiled down at her as Ella stopped uncertainly in the hall.
Ella answered with a small nod. ‘Yes,’ she said quietly, her expression nervous and her eyes still watery with tears.
‘Oh dear.’ Sophie laughed kindly. ‘You look as though you’ve lost a shilling and found sixpence.’
Her heart skittering, Claire stared at her, dumbfounded. That was one of her dad’s sayings. Whenever she’d looked grumpy, he would come out with that quip and tweak her nose, the tip of his thumb protruding between his forefinger and middle finger as he pulled his hand away, as if he’d plucked her nose from her face. It was silly, particularly as she’d grown older, but it had usually cajoled her out of her moodiness. Sophie couldn’t have known about that, unless she’d known him.
Dismissing that painful recollection, Claire explained Ella’s sad mood as best she could. ‘She’s a bit tired and upset. I’m sure she’ll feel better when she’s had a little cuddle and a nap, hey, sweetheart?’
‘Oh no. Poor thing.’ Sophie looked from Ella to Claire, her eyes sympathetic. Rich brown eyes, Claire noticed, searching for any resemblance to her father’s. They were definitely similar. But then, wasn’t brown the world’s most common eye colour? She was very pretty, her delicate features set off by her short hair, which was cut in a cute pixie style. Also dark brown – again similar to her father’s – it had subtle auburn tones running through it. Aware of her own mad straggle of frizzy red hair, Claire felt acutely self-conscious. She was sure that the fact she hadn’t had time to pimp and preen was one of the reasons Luke had been tempted elsewhere. She’d wished fervently that he would suffer for what he’d done, that it would all blow up in his face, but after receiving that phone call, she was truly worried for him.
What on earth had happened? How did there come to be blood in the bathroom? Recalling the fear in his voice, Claire felt her eyes fill with tears. She fought them back. The last thing she wanted to do was end up blubbing in front of Sophie.
‘Claire?’ Sophie stepped towards her, her brow creasing into a concerned frown. ‘Is something wrong? Is it Bernard?’
Claire shook her head. ‘No,’ she managed, working on all her usual tactics to keep the tears at bay, but no matter how deeply she breathed, how long she held it, it didn’t seem to be working.
Sophie searched her face, her eyes flecked with worry, and then pressed a hand gently to her arm. She didn’t speak, but took hold of Ella’s hand instead. ‘Come on, little one,’ she said, leading her to the stairs. ‘Come with Auntie Sophie and we’ll get you something lovely to drink. What do you fancy? I have fruit juice or Coke. Or I have milkshake: chocolate and vanilla flavour, bought for really special guests.’
Pausing before they mounted the stairs, Ella, who adored milkshake, looked hesitantly up at her. ‘Am I special?’ she asked, her little face hopeful.
‘Very.’ Sophie squeezed her hand, and led her on up. ‘And once we’ve got you a drink and maybe a biscuit if Mummy agrees, we’ll download you a fab film to watch while I get Mummy a cup of tea and we have a catch-up. How does that sound?’
‘Peppa Pig?’ Ella sounded ever more hopeful. ‘Or Paddington 2?’
‘Ooh, I think we can manage one of those, providing your mummy’s okay with it,’ Sophie said, heading on up the second flight of stairs.
Claire followed, feeling slightly bewildered. She had reservations about this woman until questions were answered. But with her emotions in turmoil and in danger of spilling over, she was glad of her timely intervention.
Ten minutes later, she watched awestruck as Sophie settled Ella on the sofa with her cat Cinder and Flopsy the rabbit, Paddington Bear ready to play on the TV. The woman seemed to be a natural with children, and Ella was clearly taken with her.
‘Feeling better?’ Sophie asked, relieving Ella of her beaker once she’d slurped back the last of her milkshake.
Nodding, Ella wiped her mouth and wriggled down under the faux-fur throw Sophie had fetched from her bedroom.
‘Right, Mummy and I will be just through there in the kitchen.’ Sophie pointed to the doorway. ‘You sure you won’t be lonely?’
Ella’s eyes flickered down and back. ‘A little bit,’ she said sadly, squeezing Flopsy closer to her chest. ‘Daddy usually watches films with me.’
Sophie glanced in Claire’s direction, her expression curious. ‘Well, I’m betting this one will be worth watching twice,’ she said, tucking the throw more tightly around Ella. ‘You can ask Daddy to download it when you get home.’
Ella immediately looked crestfallen. ‘Daddy doesn’t live at home,’ she whispered, dropping her gaze.
‘Ah.’ Sophie’s eyes pivoted towards Claire again. ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed, and then to Ella, ‘In which case, you can get Mummy to organise a viewing evening with him and tell him to get the milkshake and popcorn in. Sound like a plan?’
Ella thought about it, and then answered with a contented nod.
‘Good girl,’ Sophie said, smoothing a stray strand of hair behind Ella’s ear, and then pressing the back of her hand affectionately to her cheek. ‘We’ll be just next door. Shout if you need anything.’
Pressing play, she handed Ella the remote control and then led the way to the kitchen.
‘Try not to notice the decor,’ she said, visibly shuddering as she indicated the badly painted sage-green walls. ‘It’s worse in here than it is in the lounge, if that’s possible. I’m saving up my pennies to give the place a makeover.’
Picking up the kettle, she shook it to check for water and then filled it up and switched it on. ‘So…’ She turned from the work surface, clapping her hands nervously together. ‘I’m not sure where to start.’
‘No, me neither,’ Claire said. She had questions, reams of questions, but after the shocking news Luke had delivered, she wasn’t sure she was in an emotionally strong enough place to hear the answers.
Sophie came across to her. ‘I’m really sorry if I put my foot in it regarding Ella’s dad,’ she offered. ‘I know it’s none of my business and you might not want to talk about it, but I just wanted you to know, if you do need to talk, I have an ear. Two, actually.’
She smiled apprehensively, and Claire just hadn’t got the heart to demand her whole life story here and now, as she’d intended to do. ‘It’s nothing,’ she said, heaving out a shaky sigh.
Sophie nodded, but she looked far from convinced. ‘A big nothing,’ she said softly. ‘To have reduced you and your little girl to tears.’
Hearing the kindness in her voice, Claire felt a lump rise in her throat. So much for the in-control person she’d intended to be when she met her. ‘I had a call from him as we arrived,’ she admitted, then wavered. As desperate as she felt to confide in someone, this woman whose agenda she didn’t yet know possibly wasn’t the right someone. ‘You’ve obviously gathered that we’ve split up?’ she went on.
Sophie smiled sadly. ‘I did.’
‘Ella’s coping quite well, but she is upset, naturally, and hopes he’ll come back.’ She stopped. Imagining what was going on in her little girl’s mind brought the tears once again too close to the surface.
‘Oh Claire, I’m so sorry.’ Stepping towards her, Sophie hesitated, then reached to pull her into a hug, which almost proved fatal. Claire managed not to cry, but it took a monumental amount of effort. After a second or two, Sophie eased back. ‘And are you coping, what with everything else you’ve got going on?’
Claire shrugged dejectedly. ‘Just,’ she said, with a wan smile. ‘I don’t have a lot of choice, do I?’
‘Not when you have a child who needs you to be strong,’ Sophie agreed. ‘You really do wonder what goes on in men’s heads sometimes.’
Claire sighed. She’d thought she’d known what went on in Luke’s head, but she hadn’t, clearly.
Sophie went back to the kettle. ‘Tell me to mind my own business if you want to. I don’t mind, honestly,’ she said, busying herself with making the tea. ‘But was it because of the situation with Bernard? You having to devote your time to looking after him, I mean? I imagine that couldn’t have been easy on any of you.’
Noting her understanding expression, Claire nodded, and seated herself tiredly at the little kitchen table. ‘He was feeling neglected, so he went in search of comfort elsewhere,’ she said, and then felt immediately guilty. Even after everything Luke had done, her natural instinct was still to defend him.
‘Couldn’t have things his own way, so he went off in a sulk. Typical.’ Sophie sighed despairingly. ‘That’s exactly what my loving partner did,’ she added.
Claire eyed her curiously.
‘I nursed my gran for a while before she died,’ Sophie went on.
‘Oh. I’m sorry. That must have been difficult for you.’ Claire felt for her. ‘Did you… Were you close?’ she asked, digging a little for her history.
‘She brought me up after Mum died.’ Sophie smiled sadly. ‘So yes, it was difficult. Made more so by my now-ex throwing a wobbly. He didn’t like the fact that I wasn’t accessible twenty-four/seven, so off he went, shagging some cheap little trollop to prove a point. Point being, he could have any woman he fancied. He thought I would be desperate, begging him to come back. He got the surprise of his life when I dumped his stuff out of the flat window.’
From three floors up? Claire boggled at that. ‘You didn’t?’
‘Afraid so.’ Sophie shrugged indifferently. ‘I’m not sure his vinyl record collection fared too well, but he got the message.’
‘Oh God.’ Claire laughed. She couldn’t help but admire the other woman’s nerve.
Sophie’s mouth curved into a conspiratorial smile. ‘Served him right,’ she said, coming across with the tea. The man was a complete control freak. Sounds like your husband is much the same.’
Claire furrowed her brow and took a sip of her tea. ‘Luke’s not controlling,’ she said.
‘It’s controlling behaviour, Claire,’ Sophie pointed out gently. ‘Think about it. You obviously weren’t dancing to his tune, so he decided to play with someone else.’
Claire’s frown deepened. She took another pensive sip of her tea.
‘I’m assuming he wasn’t happy about living with Bernard?’
That was true, Claire had to concede. Luke couldn’t have been any unhappier when he’d stormed out the morning after the incident with her father on the landing. ‘He wasn’t, but… How did you know we were living there?’ she asked her. Hadn’t she said the last time she’d seen her father was before they moved in?
‘I spoke on the phone with Bernard. Only briefly. We lost touch after that,’ Sophie explained, looking pensive. ‘You can’t blame your husband for being unhappy about the situation, I suppose,’ she continued. ‘It couldn’t have been easy for him, but pressurising you to put his needs first was hardly going to help, was it?’
Again Claire wanted to defend him, but she couldn’t, because she had felt under pressure. Trying to care for everyone and juggle everything just wasn’t possible.
‘Did you really want to put Bernard into care?’ Sophie asked. ‘I mean, I know you would have had to eventually, for his sake, as well as your own and little Ella’s, but were you really ready to go that route when you did?’
Feeling slightly disorientated by the turn of the conversation, Claire hesitated. ‘Yes,’ she said, after a pause, but even she could hear the lack of conviction in her voice. She hadn’t been ready. She really had thought she would have more time when she’d set out to care for him. That she would be by his side at the end, easing his struggle. ‘No,’ she backtracked. ‘I needed Luke to be there for me, not fighting me.’ Running the rim of her finger around her mug, she failed to suppress a tear.
Sophie was quiet for a second, then, ‘I’m here for you, Claire,’ she reached to squeeze her hand, ‘if you want me to be.’
Claire looked up from her tea. ‘What is it you want, Sophie?’ she asked. She had to know. ‘Why get in touch now?’
Glancing down, Sophie appeared to think about it. ‘To be part of your family,’ she said, looking up hopefully. ‘For you to know I’ll always be there, wherever you are.’