She’s right, Mike thought, in reference to his mum’s comment when he’d gone over to the house first thing to check for mail. Bethan was picking up on how stressed he was, which meant neither of them had slept much last night. On the plus side, it turned out that Jackie Perry’s lawyer had been scaremongering. Social services were not coming out to inspect the summerhouse, and, according to Ms. Lane, Jackie had found herself a new lawyer, who was ‘more reasonable’ than whatever her name was.
Mike felt as if a ten-ton weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and the effect was immediate. Typically, seeing as it was almost midday, and they’d need to leave within the hour, Bethan was fast asleep and had been for most of the morning. He was pleased, though, because it meant he’d got the washing done and completed another of the tasks on his IT ‘refresher course’, which wasn’t the most accurate name for it, or perhaps that was just his experience. Sure, the basics hadn’t changed, and it wasn’t as if he’d been living under an anti-technology rock all these years. But he certainly wasn’t up to speed on mobile devices, considering his experience consisted of using his own mobile phone, which he’d had for a long time. It did what he needed it to, and his contract cost next to nothing, so he’d seen no reason to upgrade. Needless to say, upgrading was one of the first things he’d be doing when Hayley paid him the balance for the salon job.
He logged off the training site and swallowed the dregs of cold coffee from his cup, preparing to wake the little madam. She was grouchy if she was woken before she was ready, but the bad mood passed soon enough, and the long sleep would hopefully have put her in a lovely mood for when they met up with Jackie in an hour’s time.
First things first: more coffee. He filled the kettle and doubled the coffee and sugar he’d usually have. Don’t wanna be nodding off in front of Jackie. Ha. Tired as he was, it was about as likely as Jackie telling him Rachel was going to stop trying to fuck up his and Bethan’s lives.
He cared what Jackie thought of him; why, he didn’t know. With or without access arrangements, his lawyer seemed confident he wouldn’t lose Bethan, and his feelings for Rachel wavered between hatred and indifference, so it certainly wasn’t for her benefit. He supposed a big part of it was still about proving he was a good dad, and not just to Jackie; to himself. The other, less selfish reason was he wanted Jackie to see Bethan in the best light, to show her that something good had come out of losing her daughter. Bethan had a family already—loving grandparents, brilliant aunties and uncles, gorgeous cousins. She didn’t need the Perrys in her life. But they needed her.
So, Mike was nervous and stressed out, and both Andy and Shaunna had offered to accompany him, but he’d politely refused. He was hoping Jackie would, likewise, be unaccompanied, although there was a good chance Rachel’s sister or brother would come with her. As far as Jackie was concerned, Mike was the reason Rachel was in prison. He’d got her banged up and kept her away from her family, at best. Worst case, he was a rapist and a ‘wife’ beater. Wild guesses on his part: he had no idea what Rachel had told her mum about him, or if she’d told her anything at all. Maybe they were empty threats to guarantee his silence.
There’s something else, isn’t there?
What Jackie had said outside the courtroom kept coming back to him. At first, he’d thought she was fishing to see if there was more, and he’d tried to act cool, but then she’d pleaded with him, and he was torn. Was she hoping he’d confirm for her that Rachel was every bit the sweet, innocent daughter Jackie thought she was? Or was Rachel’s poison finally wearing off?
Mike was no mind reader—he often missed the point when it was given to him bluntly and in no uncertain terms—but if he and Jackie were going to come to some kind of workable understanding, it would be without the interference, however well-meant, of other people. Like Mrs. Hunter had said, it was easy to find someone who’d big you up, but the proof that he was better than his competitors was in his work, and what he had to do today was no different. Regardless of what Rachel had or hadn’t told her mum, it was down to him to convince Jackie her granddaughter was in the best place and she had no reason to worry or challenge him.
Time was ticking on, and Bethan needed her lunch before they left. He peeped around the dividing wall, chuckling quietly at the sight that greeted him, of his sleeping daughter in her cot, lying the opposite way around to when he’d put her down for her nap. It was incredible to think that three months ago, she couldn’t sit up unsupported. More evidence for how fast children grow up, which his brothers had been telling him for years. They’d watched Krissi from the sidelines, reluctant teenaged ‘uncles’ who became doting guardians along with the rest of their crazy friends, only to discover Krissi was one of theirs. A Jeffries, in blood, if not in name. And she was a nice kid.
Kid. She was twenty-five, old enough to have her own kids. Being so new to parenting himself, Mike couldn’t get his head around that, because it also meant he was old enough to be a great uncle, or a…grandad. Except he didn’t feel that old. He felt the same now as when he’d left uni, although he’d felt ancient when he was with Rachel. She’d kept ramming it down his throat, the eighteen-year difference, told him her friends didn’t understand why she was with him. Is he loaded, Rach? Or has he got a big you-know-what… She’d laughed in his face and said she’d told them he was a loser. She was only with him to make sure he paid for his mistake. It was safe to say he had, and then some.
Having Bethan was not his mistake, though. She was the first thing he’d got right in his life. No, his mistake, he was beginning to accept, was not fighting back. Maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference in the end, other than he’d have been free of Rachel’s clutches sooner. Would he have fought her for Bethan? Probably not. If he hadn’t had his daughter in his life, he wouldn’t know what it was like without her, and he’d have carried on as before, with his dead-end job, evenings in the pub, alone but for the occasional one-night stand. His one date since Rachel hadn’t even made it to the bedroom, not that it was a possibility anyway, when he shared that room with his daughter.
Who was still asleep.
He’d hoped if he stood there long enough, she’d wake up by herself, and he felt like a big mean daddy, disturbing her. Advancing on her cot, he reached down and stroked his finger over her cheek. She blinked without opening her eyes, if that were possible, and then frowned, her little nose crinkled, ready to release a cry of anguish at being dragged away from whatever it was tiny girls dreamed of.
“Hey, baby girl,” he whispered. “You want some din-dins?”
Her frown softened as her eyes opened. No squawking, no tears, she smiled up at him, melting his heart, just like every day.
“Da,” she said.
Unable to shift the daft grin from his face, he scooped her up out of her cot, and her little arms stretched around his, holding tightly, her cheek snuggled against his chest. “Love you lots and lots,” he murmured, kissing her hair.
“Da,” she replied.
For once, her nappy had stayed leak-free, and he remembered to put her bib on before he put the bowl of banana pieces on her tray. To think how reluctant he’d been to give her finger foods, and then his mum had told him she’d been giving her toasty fingers for the past month. Bethan loved toast. It was her current favourite, although rusk dipped in yoghurt was fast taking over.
“We’ll go shopping later,” he told her. Whether she understood the words or not, she still listened intently. He sneaked a spoonful of potato and butternut squash in between the banana chomping, and laughed when she wrinkled her nose in disgust. His mum said she looked just like him when she did that. “Should’ve given you carrot, huh?”
She pushed most of the potato and squash out of her mouth with her tongue in favour of more banana, squidging the rest of the piece between her fingers and grinning in delight. Mike’s belly rumbled; they were meeting Jackie for lunch, but he couldn’t wait that long. Keeping one eye on his daughter, he made a jam sandwich, because it was quick and easy, and sat down again. Bethan made a grab for the sandwich. He tore a crust off, swiped some jam onto the tip, and handed it over. She sucked the jam off, threw the crust over the edge of her tray and stretched out her hand for more.
“Eat your banana,” he said, holding up a piece in front of her. She homed in on it and took it from him. It also went over the edge of the tray. Mike sighed and relinquished a sizable strip of his sandwich. It was the shape of things to come.
When Bethan was sure she’d sucked every last drop of butter and jam from the bread, Mike tried her with a couple of spoonfuls of the potato and squash, but she wasn’t interested, so he cleaned her up and put a jar of food in her bag, along with a bottle of water, formula, nappies, wipes, bibs, change of clothes… He always used to forget something; now it was second nature.
With everything packed, he carried Bethan out to the van. He’d left her seat in situ after the football, which saved a bit of messing around. She was alert and happy, and it was making him feel more comfortable about where they were going.
“Ready to meet your other nana?” he asked, climbing in beside her. At the word ‘nana’, she turned her head and frowned at him. “Maybe she’s a grandma.” He’d leave it to Jackie to decide. He poked the key into the ignition, and…
“Crap.” Of course, it had to happen today, of all days. Len was at the showroom, and his mum had gone out. He couldn’t see whether Charlie’s car was there, because she parked around the side of the house. He got out of the van and went to look. Sure enough, there was Charlie’s GTi, and the office window was open. “Charlie?”
The window opened a further couple of inches, and she peered out. “Yeah?”
“Can you do me a favour? I need to jump-start the van.”
“No problem. I’ll come now.”
“Cheers.” Mike returned to the van, popped the bonnet and got the jump leads out of the back, checking everything was switched off while he waited for Charlie, thereby discovering he’d left the headlights on. More likely, he’d hit the switch with his knee yesterday, and it was an old van, so no beeps to alert him. Ahead of him, Charlie’s Golf swung into view, and she advanced until they were bonnet-to-bonnet. Charlie left her engine running and got out.
“Is it your battery?” she asked as she propped the Golf’s bonnet open.
“Lights.”
“Ah.” She took the ends of the leads and connected them to the Golf’s battery. “I’ll give it a few revs,” she said.
Mike got back in the van and waited a couple of minutes, watching Bethan’s face. She was fixated on something, and he glanced up to see what. There was nothing, apart from the clouds drifting across the sky, although they were probably fascinating to a baby. He tried the van again, and it was sluggish, but it did start. He gave it some gas, wincing at the exhaust’s loud backfires. The stink of black smoke reached his nostrils.
Charlie appeared next to the driver’s door. “Think your van’s knacked, mate.”
He looked at her ruefully, hoping she was wrong.
She eyed his attire and then Bethan’s. “You got another date?”
“We’re going to meet Rachel’s mum.”
“At her place?”
“The mall.” The van was still spluttering.
“Do you want a lift? I’ve got to go down to the showroom anyway. I could drop you off on the way, pick you up later?”
Mike revved the van again; it sounded none too healthy, and the prospect of getting stuck in the mall’s car park was not one he relished. “If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Not at all.” Charlie stepped back so Mike could get out. “If you pass me Bethan’s pushchair…”
He took it out of the back of the van and gave it to Charlie to put in her boot. “They’re a decent size, aren’t they?” he said, indicating in the direction of the hatchback’s boot space as he carried Bethan over.
“Yeah. You putting her in the front or the back?”
“Back, I guess.”
Charlie opened the door and pulled the seat forward, holding it while Mike wriggled through the small gap and contorted himself to strap Bethan’s seat in. He emerged panting and flustered.
“It’s not really a family car,” Charlie admitted apologetically.
“It doesn’t need to be, does it?” Mike reasoned. Charlie was single with no kids, and the nifty little 1985 convertible, procured by Len as a perk of her job, was perfect for her. At the back end of the eighties, when Mike had passed his driving test, he’d fancied getting a GTi himself, but they were too expensive, so he’d had to settle for a Ford Escort, like the rest of the male teenage population. After uni, he’d upgraded to a Cavalier SRi and sold it soon after, when he was given his first work van. He’d been driving vans ever since, and they suited his requirements, although he’d be lying if he claimed he wasn’t jealous of his brothers’ flash cars.
It said a lot about the kinds of women they shared their lives with. No doubt about it, both Andy and Dan had bought their dream cars, and Dan had got his after his daughter was born, so it must’ve been with Adele’s blessing. There again, he’d had to compromise on style and go with the four-door, but it was still a fine-looking car. As for Andy’s? Well, he always was a show-off, and what better way to draw attention to himself than to drive around in a 1960s bright-red American soft-top?
Rachel had much to say about Mike’s van, none of it complimentary, although she wasn’t so fussy when she’d been out with her mates getting rat-arsed—while pregnant—and called him at three in the morning to pick her up. The rest of the time, she’d sneered at it and spat ‘I’m not getting in that’, but she had her own car. A little blue Fiat, part of her pretty-girl bullshit.
“Close enough?” Charlie asked.
The view of the mall’s main entrance directly ahead had Mike doing a double-take. “Yeah,” he answered. “Sorry. I was miles away.”
Charlie gave him a concerned smile. “Are you worried?”
“I am. Though not about losing Bethan. I’m confident I won’t. But…”
“It’s Rachel’s mum.” Charlie reached over and squeezed his hand.
He’d never told her what had happened with Rachel; Andy had, and Mike was OK with that. Andy trusted Charlie, and that was good enough for Mike.
“Is her mum all right?” she asked.
“Yeah. She seems nice.”
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, but if it isn’t, call me, OK? I’m only five minutes away.” She patted his hand and released him.
“Thanks.” He got out and fetched the pushchair from the boot before he lifted Bethan from her car seat, leaving the seat where it was. “See you later,” he said to Charlie as he moved off towards the mall. A moment later, she pulled out into the traffic, tooting her horn as she passed by. Mike followed her progress until she was out of sight and then paused at the mall’s entrance to psych himself.
For a Tuesday afternoon, it was busier than he’d anticipated. Even so, he had no trouble spotting Jackie walking a short way ahead of him. He used the slight lag in their arrival at the food hall to check if she had company, which she didn’t, and then went straight over to join her. She waved to indicate she’d seen him.
“Hey,” he greeted her. “You OK?”
“Yes, thank you.” Jackie smiled at Bethan. “Gosh, you’ve grown so much since…I last saw you.” She’d met Bethan just the once, outside the crown court, on the first day of Rachel’s trial. Now, Mike sensed she was desperate to touch, to hold her granddaughter, her outstretched fingers mere inches from Bethan’s hand. With obvious reluctance, Jackie straightened again and looked Mike in the eye. “Really, thank you so much.”
Mike nodded to acknowledge her words, though he hadn’t felt like he’d had much choice. The mediator had suggested they come to an arrangement through their lawyers, which seemed a waste of money. They were adults, after all. Surely they could figure it out between themselves and tell the lawyers what they’d agreed afterwards? Unless they didn’t agree.
“Lunch is on me, incidentally,” Jackie said, and before Mike could argue to the contrary, she added, “I’m a senior teacher. I can afford to buy my granddaughter’s father lunch once in a while.”
Mike shrugged. “Fair enough.”
“What do you like to eat?” Jackie gestured to the food franchises.
“I’m easy. You’ve eaten here before?”
“A few times. The pasta is very good.”
“Fine by me. Shall I go order for us?”
“No, I’ll do it.”
Relieved that he didn’t have to leave Bethan with her just yet, Mike looked over at the on-the-wall menu. “I’ll have a lasagne, if that’s all right?”
“OK. Anything else?”
“Just a coffee, thanks.”
“Cappuccino?”
“Sure.”
Jackie went to order, leaving Mike to find them somewhere to sit. He aimed for the closest free table and sat down heavily. So far, so good.
Soon after, Jackie returned with their food and drinks on a tray. “I went with the lasagne, too,” she explained, setting a plate and cup down in front of him. “I wasn’t sure if I should get anything for Bethan.”
“She’ll be all right for now. She had lunch before we came out. I say she had lunch…she played with a bowl of banana and nicked—” He stopped talking. It didn’t seem right to admit he’d already eaten, albeit only half a jam sandwich.
Jackie put the tray to one side and sat opposite Mike. “I need to tell you something. Talk about a small world…” She picked up her knife and fork and cut a little square chunk from the end of her lasagne, lifting it from the plate and then continuing. “It’s quite an interesting aside, well, for me, at least. Your sister-in-law, Shaunna?”
“Yeah?” Mike imitated Jackie and put a minuscule morsel of lasagne in his mouth.
“I worked with her mum.”
“Oh, right.”
Jackie smiled and became thoughtful. Her smile grew more radiant. “She was my mentor, when I started teaching. I had to look twice when I first saw Shaunna. It could’ve been Siobhan.”
Mike nodded, unable to comment. He’d never met Shaunna’s mum, although he knew she’d died some time ago, but he didn’t like to say. It made for miserable conversation, and in any case, it wasn’t his business. As it was, Jackie brought it up.
“I was very sad to hear Siobhan passed away. She was one of the best teachers I ever worked with, possibly the best, and such a lovely person. One of the girls in my first class lost her baby sister to cot death, and Siobhan and I attended the funeral. She really looked after me that day.” Jackie shook her head. “Thirty-one years, I’ve been a teacher, and it’s still the hardest thing I’ve endured in my career.”
“Jess.” Mike’s thought escaped aloud, and Jackie stared at him in disbelief.
“Jessica Lambert?” she asked. He nodded mutely to confirm it. “You know her?”
“Not well. She was my brother’s girlfriend, but we weren’t on speaking terms.”
“They’re not together anymore?”
“Err…no.” It seemed their conversation was destined for talk of death. “Jess passed away last year.”
“Oh, no!” Jackie set her fork down. Her eyes filled with tears.
Mike shifted his attention to Bethan, who was still wide awake and quite content, watching all of the activity around them.
“I suppose I should get all of the bad news out of the way in one go,” Jackie said.
Mike glanced in her direction. She remained focused on Bethan.
“Rachel hurt herself last week, after they told her she couldn’t transfer to a prison with a mother-and-baby unit.” She shifted her gaze to meet his. “She’s in hospital.”
“Hurt herself?”
Jackie nodded and closed her eyes, confirming Mike’s interpretation. Whatever his feelings for Rachel, he empathised with Jackie’s obvious distress.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and he meant it. A meaningless one-night stand for this bloody awful mess.
Jackie pulled a tissue from her bag, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. At the noise, Bethan looked up at her, blinking in curiosity. Jackie laughed through her tears. “I bet you’re wondering what all the fuss is about.”
Bethan babbled a response, her little eyebrows drawing together in a worried frown that made Mike smile, grateful his daughter didn’t understand the hurt of the adults in her company. He hoped she didn’t, anyway. He looked back at Jackie.
“This is a daft question, but would you like to hold her?”
Jackie’s face crumpled again as she cried while smiling at the same time.
Mike unfastened the pushchair straps, lifted Bethan clear, and passed her to Jackie, trying not to react to Bethan’s scowl. She was like that with strangers who approached when they were watching the football, or doing the shopping, or anywhere that people thought it was OK to come over and talk to the cute baby with the single dad. He was probably being paranoid about the last part, but he felt like everyone could see it and constantly came up with their own explanations for why he was on his own that would no doubt be way off the mark.
Jackie was used to children and soon won Bethan round, using exaggerated facial expressions while she told her how beautiful she was, and what a lovely outfit she was wearing, and how lucky she was to have such a wonderful daddy who loved her very much. Mike choked up at the last part, which confirmed for him that he’d made the right decision.
“I think Grandma had better eat some of this lunch before it goes completely cold, don’t you?” Jackie settled Bethan in the crook of her arm and, with her free hand, picked up her fork. She met Mike’s gaze. “Thank you,” she said again.
“No worries.” Mike followed Jackie’s lead and tucked into his lasagne, pausing after a couple of mouthfuls to ask, “How d’you want to work this access thing?”
“Hm… I was thinking we should keep it informal. I could pop over and visit you, you can come over to us. I could babysit for you. I want to be a normal grandma, if you see what I mean. What do you think?”
“Yeah. Sounds good to me.”
“I wouldn’t want to have Bethan without you being there, at least, not to start with. But once she gets to know me—and you get to know me…”
“OK. You work term times, yeah?”
“That’s right. I’m usually home by around five on weekdays, other than when we have meetings, parents’ evenings, and so on. But weekends, I’m happy to go along with whatever times suit you.”
Mike nodded. “Great.” He concentrated on finishing his lasagne, working up to mentioning the other request Jackie had made. He almost didn’t want to bring it up, when they were getting along so well, but it needed addressing. He put his knife and fork together on the plate and rubbed his chin. He’d shaved before bed last night, but his beard grew fast. It rasped against his hand.
“What do you want to do about Rachel?” he asked.
“About her seeing Bethan, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“Nothing at the moment. I’m not going to force you to do something against your will. I wish I understood why you’re so adamant—why you hate Rachel so much.” Jackie held Bethan’s hand and kept watching her. “I can only assume it’s true—what Felix said about her in court—and perhaps you had to deal with some of that, too.”
Jackie sounded so defeated Mike was confident she wasn’t pushing him for information. She was beginning to accept Pez’s story and building up to a compromise.
She sighed deeply. “I know Rachel can be difficult. She always has been, but I don’t need you to tell me anything. I’m just glad for the chance to get to know my granddaughter.” She offered Mike a reassuring smile. He nodded.
“Thanks, Jackie.”
“Now, much as I’d love to make the offer…” She glanced across the food hall, and Mike followed her gaze to the toilets and changing facilities. She looked back at him and wrinkled her nose. Mike laughed and got up.
“Come on, stinker.” He collected his daughter and the changing bag from the back of the pushchair. Bethan shouted ‘Da!’ and bashed his nose hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. “Ooh, you little monster.” He tickled her, and she giggled and went to do it again, but he caught her hand and blew a raspberry on her palm.
“Be right back,” he said to Jackie.
Even though Mike had a valid reason for leaving her sitting on her own, it felt rude to do so, and he made short work of changing Bethan’s nappy. With solid food came more solid poos and fewer incidents of it escaping her nappy. Today was not an all-up-the-back day, thankfully, and they were done in a couple of minutes. He handed Bethan back to her grandma.
“Hello, beautiful,” Jackie gushed. Bethan smiled coyly. “You’re not shy?” Jackie tapped her finger on Bethan’s chin, and her smile became a big toothy grin. Jackie glanced at Mike. “She looks like you.”
“I’ve got more teeth,” he pointed out.
Jackie laughed. “Very true. It’s been great meeting you both today, getting to know you a little. I wasn’t sure what to expect before the mediation meeting, but I got a real sense of how much you care about Bethan, and seeing you together…” Jackie became serious. “I’ve withdrawn my guardianship application. It was straight after the trial, and I was… I’ve had time to come to terms with everything now, and I won’t be applying again. I want to reassure you about that, because losing your daughter…” She paused and blinked back tears. “If it isn’t too much to ask, maybe it is, I don’t know, but I’d be grateful if you’d give some more thought to Rachel seeing Bethan. Without her, she has nothing to live for.”
Unable to bring himself to saying no outright, although he was quite sure giving it more thought wouldn’t change his mind, Mike simply said, “I’ll think about it.”
“Thank you.” Jackie seemed to relax and then peered into her cup. “Can I buy you another coffee?”
Mike got up. “I’ll get them.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Really, it’s fine. Same again?”
“Please. Then we can talk about more fun things, like… I’ll leave it up to you.”
“Err, yeah. Weaning babies or which brand of emulsion gives the best coverage?” Mike suggested with a grin.
“Oh, emulsion, definitely,” Jackie said mock-seriously.
Without reservation, Mike set off for the coffee vendor, leaving his daughter with her grandma.
* * * * *