A pair of arms slipped around her waist and hugged her tightly. ‘Watch out, sweetheart, you’ll make me spill the milk,’ Rachel said and shuffled from the fridge to the table with her daughter attached like a limpet.
‘Love you, Mummy,’ Hope said, giving Rachel a final squeeze before releasing her.
Rachel kissed the top of her daughter’s head. ‘And I love you, my beautiful, beautiful girl. Now eat up your breakfast as quick as you can so we can get going.’
Hope sat down and was already shovelling the first spoonful of cocoa pops into her mouth as Rachel poured the milk. She couldn’t have asked more from her daughter over the last week. Hope had returned to school without complaint or incident and on the one occasion she had seen Martin she couldn’t have been more excited if he had turned up in a Santa suit with an armful of presents. It was just a shame Karen hadn’t been around to witness it but Rachel’s mum had been keeping her distance. She hadn’t seen Martin since the ill-fated dinner and as much as was possible in a small terraced house she was even avoiding Rachel.
‘So you’re still going then?’ Karen said as she came into the kitchen. It was the first time they had come close to talking about Rachel’s plans.
‘Yes, of course I am,’ Rachel said as she joined Hope at the table.
‘And you’re sure Mrs Wilson is able to handle a six-year-old for the weekend?’
Her mum’s voice was etched with concern and perhaps a little guilt too but Rachel heard only an accusation. ‘I don’t exactly have a choice. I presume you’re still going to Auntie Jane’s for the weekend?’
‘She thinks I could do with cheering up,’ Karen said carefully and sat down at the end of the table furthest from her daughter. When Hope gave her a worried look, she managed to return a wink if not a smile.
The little girl was too intent on finishing her breakfast to notice her nan’s eyes welling with tears but Rachel did. She wanted to say something – a heart-to-heart was well overdue – but there seemed little point in wrestling with so many unknowns when they would all know where they stood soon enough. ‘Hope will be fine and I think it’ll do Bea good having some company.’
The conversation over breakfast remained stilted. Both women were more interested in what wasn’t being said than the inconsequential chatter passing their lips. It wasn’t until Rachel and Hope were heading out the door with their overnight cases that Karen decided to face the issue head on. She pulled her daughter back into the house, leaving Hope standing perplexed by the front gate.
‘I’m sorry, Rachel, really I am. I want to be supportive but I’m sick with worry for you both. I know we all have to take risks in life, and if you think Martin is going to be as committed to Hope as he is to you then I’ll trust your judgement.’ Karen left a pause that might only have been to catch her breath, but she was also looking into Rachel’s eyes, searching for the slightest hint of doubt. It didn’t take her long to find it. ‘What aren’t you telling me, Rachel?’
‘Martin loves me, mum, I don’t doubt that,’ Rachel managed.
‘For what it’s worth, neither do I.’
‘And I think we also agree on what his intentions are in terms of Hope,’ Rachel admitted. ‘Over the last few months I’ve been desperate to find a way forward which would make everyone happy. For a while I convinced myself that leaving Hope here would suit everyone but …’
‘But?’
Rachel glanced over her shoulder towards Hope. ‘I won’t give her up, not even on a temporary basis.’
‘Does he know?’
‘He will do. I’m going to tell him that if he can’t see Hope as a part of his life then I can’t see him in mine.’
‘Oh, Rachel, why are you even considering moving now? If Martin can’t accept Hope except under duress then he’s not worth it. Don’t be blinded by his expensive gifts and flashy car. Cancel the weekend and stay here. Please, we can talk it through.’
Bristling at the remark, Rachel turned away as she said, ‘No, mum, I’m going. And for the record I fell for a man who was devoted to his mother, there was no flashy car then.’
Karen tried to grab her again but Rachel resisted. She didn’t look back or even say goodbye. She pulled back her shoulders and took hold of Hope’s hand as they set off down the road.
Heading through the park, there was a chill in the air that cooled Rachel’s fired-up emotions. When they turned into Mrs Wilson’s road, she thought she had herself under control – but then she spotted the flashy red sports car at the bottom of the road and her heart began to race.
‘Is that Martin’s car?’ Hope asked.
‘Yes, he said he’d pick me up from Mrs Wilson’s house so I don’t have to walk all the way back home.’ It would also avoid the risk of Martin and her mum bumping into each other.
‘Can I go and say hello?’ she said, already pulling away. The wheels of her case sparked along the pavement as she sped off.
Rachel watched as Hope ran past Mrs Wilson’s house and up to the car. She tapped on the window and then her head was bobbing up and down as she launched into what looked like an animated but probably one-sided conversation. By the time Rachel had reached the house, Hope was on her way back.
‘He said he’ll wait in the car,’ she said breathlessly.
A hand appeared out of the car window and waved. She thought she could just make out the reflection of Martin’s face in the wing mirror as she waved back.
‘Let’s get you settled first,’ Rachel said, already sensing Martin’s impatience but refusing to give in to any pressure, perceived or otherwise.
Mrs Wilson looked almost as excited as Hope by her arrival and listened intently as the little girl told her all about her first week back at school and how Mrs Carnegie had promised that the next time she needed a green crayon, all she had to do was ask.
‘And,’ Rachel said loud enough to silence her daughter who would gladly have chatted on for the next ten minutes without reprieve, ‘she’s really looking forward to this talk you’ve promised to give.’
The comment was a playful one but Mrs Wilson’s response was stony-faced. ‘I didn’t promise any such thing, Rachel.’
‘Would it be such a bad thing to think there are still children out there who might be influenced by you?’
The old lady rubbed her arms as if there was a sudden chill in the air. ‘That’s what today is all about,’ she said and turned back to Hope. ‘We’re going to have such fun.’
Accepting it would have to be a battle for another day, Rachel focused on the immediate future. ‘Hope’s brought everything she could possibly need for a fun-filled weekend,’ Rachel said, as she went through the contents of her case. ‘I’ve packed some treats for tonight and there’s also cereal for tomorrow. She goes to bed at eight-thirty sharp, no arguments.’ She looked at Hope for agreement before continuing. ‘And there’s a note in the side pocket with all my contact details and my mum’s mobile number too, not that she’s in the mood to help, but for Hope she’d move heaven and earth. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you doing this. I’m not exactly brimming with confidence that the weekend will go the way I want it to but …’ Rachel stopped midsentence as she finally took in the growing horror on Bea’s face.
‘The weekend?’ Bea asked.
Rachel felt the colour draining from her face. With a sickening twist of her stomach, she realised what was wrong. ‘Yes, Bea, I thought you realised. Martin’s arranged viewings for over the two days so we weren’t planning on coming back until tomorrow evening. Is that a problem?’
‘Well, yes. I can’t have Hope tomorrow. I simply can’t.’
The two women stood in silence and the only movement came from Hope who looked from one stricken face to the other. ‘mum? Does that mean I can’t stay?’
The tremble in Hope’s voice was nothing compared to the tremors coursing through Rachel’s body. It was over. Her dream was finally over. ‘Is there no way you can change your plans?’ Rachel asked.
Mrs Wilson shook her head.
‘But I can’t ask mum.’
‘You’ve just said she’d move heaven and earth for Hope,’ Bea insisted.
‘But she wouldn’t lift a finger to help me salvage my relationship with Martin.’
‘I’m sorry, Rachel. I can’t look after Hope tomorrow.’
A car horn sounded from outside. ‘Please, Bea,’ Rachel said, aware she was putting pressure on the old lady.
‘No. It isn’t possible, not at all.’ Mrs Wilson patted Hope’s head by way of an apology. ‘But I would still love to have her today as long as you promise to pick her up later.’
Rachel held her breath as she tried to think. She had planned on spending the weekend digging deep into Martin’s psyche in search of the man she had fallen in love with, teasing out his doubts and fears and somehow convincing him that fatherhood could be a blessing and not a millstone around his neck. She had known it would be near impossible to achieve all of that in one weekend but what chance did she have with only one day? ‘It’s better than nothing, I suppose,’ she said, aware of how ungrateful she sounded and hating herself for it.
‘I’ll give your mum a ring once you’ve gone,’ Bea offered. ‘Maybe I can persuade her to pick up Hope tonight instead of you.’
The glimmer of hope made Rachel’s eyes sparkle, albeit eyes that were glistening with tears. ‘Thank you, Bea.’
‘Don’t go thanking me yet. There’s a long way to go before the end of this day.’