by Nikki Ashton
I continued to watch the pool from my seat in the café and almost screamed when I saw Frankie flying through the air.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, causing a lady who was knitting to look up.
Halfway out of my seat, I paused as Frankie landed with a splash in the water. I held my breath waiting and watching, only releasing it when seconds later he appeared with a huge smile on his face. I could see that he was laughing as he swam toward Sam. I let out the breath and plopped back into my seat, placing a shaking hand over my thudding heart.
“Your partner seems to enjoy giving you a heart attack, love,” the knitting lady said. “But your little boy is loving it though.”
I glanced at her and then back to the pool, watching as Sam launched Frankie once more.
“They’re having a whale of a time,” she said, dragging my attention back to her.
“Yes, they are.” The lump in my throat was huge and I wasn’t sure that I wasn’t going to cry.
“Fathers and sons, eh.” She shook her head and then went back to her knitting.
My eyes moved back to the pool and I wished I’d not been so adamant about not joining them.
“Mum,” Frankie cried as he barrelled toward me, arms and legs flying around. “Sam says my front crawl is one of the best he’s seen. Did you see?”
His eyes were bright with excitement as he thrust a towel and wet swim shorts at me.
“I did, you were brilliant,” I replied, holding the shorts and towel out in front of me. “Where’s your bag?”
I started to fold the towel as Frankie smacked his forehead with the heel of his hand and raced off, passing Sam who was on his way out.
“Where’s he going?” Sam asked, looking behind him at Frankie’s retreating figure.
“He forgot his bag.”
I rolled the swim shorts up with the towel, not looking at Sam, afraid that if I did he’d realise I’d been lusting after him for the last hour and a half.
“Shit, I should have checked,” Sam groaned. “But I let him get changed on his own. I didn’t think I should go in with him, so I took the cubicle next to his.”
I looked up and could see Sam’s uncertainty and a little discomfort and yet again, I wanted to kick myself. This all seemed so natural and normal that I hadn’t considered it might be wrong to leave Frankie to get dressed with Sam in charge. I knew there was always a member of staff stationed inside the changing rooms, but was I being neglectful of Frankie? Sam was a member of staff too and Frankie’s dad, so maybe it was just me trusting my instincts – shit this was all too bloody complicated.
“It’s fine, Sam,” I found myself saying. “He dresses himself every day and he should know to bring his bag out, but so you know I wouldn’t have minded if you’d helped him.”
Sam didn’t reply, but simply gave me a single head nod. Before there was time for any awkwardness to grow, Frankie reappeared at my side, still minus his bag.
“Where is it?” I asked, looking down on him.
He looked at me with wary eyes and shrugged.
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” he replied. “It wasn’t there.”
“Did you ask Dave?” Sam asked, placing a hand on Frankie’s wet head. “He’s in the changing room office.”
“Yeah, but he just said he’d look for it.”
“Frankie,” I groaned. “It can’t have gone missing already. You’ve only been out of there for five minutes.”
The way he looked at me, I knew something was worrying him. His nose was wrinkled and his shoulders hunched, the usual tell when he had a problem.
“Frankie, what is it?”
He sighed and blurted out, “There was a big boy in there and he had my bag, but when I asked him for it back he said it was his and that he’d had it for ages, but I knew it was mine, it had the piece of blue string that you tied to the zip so I wouldn’t mix it up with Nathan’s at school.”
As Frankie took a breath, Sam made a growling noise and when I looked up at him, I could see his jaw was set tight.
“What does the boy look like?” he asked, stooping down to look Frankie in the eye. “And what’s the bag like?”
“He’s got black hair and looks mean and the bag is a Man City bag.”
Sam’s eyes glinted quickly with pride before morphing back into a scowl. “I’ll get it.”
Frankie grinned as Sam turned and stomped back to the changing room.
“Sam,” I shouted after him, not entirely sure why.
He held up two fingers. “I’ll be two minutes.”
“Do you think he’ll shout at him?” Frankie asked his eyes shining brightly.
I chewed my lip and shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. This all seemed like too much of a ‘dad’ thing for Sam to do and after everything else over the last twenty-four hours it was a little weird.
True to his word Sam appeared a couple of minutes later, dangling the pale blue bag from his long fingers.
“Here you go,” he said passing it to Frankie. “And good choice of team, buddy.”
Frankie smiled widely as he took the bag and gazed up at Sam. “Wow, thanks. Did you tell him off?”
“Something like that,” Sam grunted.
“Oh god, what did you do?” I asked, worried about the prospect of dealing with an irate parent.
“Nothing,” he replied, watching Frankie as he took his swim gear from me and started to put it into the bag, unravelling it all as he did so. “I just told the little fu-fool who it belonged to and I gave Dave a mouthful for not sorting it out like he should have.”
“Sam,” I groaned. “You didn’t have to.”
“Yeah I did, now are we going to get food or not?”
I looked at him with my mouth open. “What?”
“Sam’s taking us for burgers, Mum,” Frankie cried excitedly, as he grabbed my hand. “Come on.”
Before I had chance to argue or question, I was being dragged out of the leisure centre, worrying about what all of it meant and what it would do to my son if it all went wrong. I had to speak to Sam and as much as I didn’t want to deep down, ask him to keep his distance.
Sam
the present
I had no idea why, but I’d told Frankie he could call me if he wanted to go swimming again before the lessons. After having spent the day with him and Maisie, it felt like the natural thing to do, but as soon as I’d dropped them back home and seen them into the house, I’d started to wonder if I’d done the right thing. If I’d been doing the right thing for the last twenty-four hours.
My Saturday night should have been spent down at the pub with my mates, but instead I’d stayed home, watching some crap action film, just in case Maisie needed me. My interest had only been half on the film as I’d had my eye on the phone willing it to ring, but dreading it at the same time. Now it was burning a hole in my pocket as I spent time having lunch at my parents’ house.
“What’s wrong with you?” Amy asked as she came back into Mum and Dad’s lounge after putting Bella down for her post lunch nap.
“Nothing, why?” I moved the cat, Biggins, making room for my sister-in-law on the sofa.
“Either you’re thinking too hard about something or you’ve got a stomach ache.”
She giggled and nudged me, prompting me to give her the finger.
“Charming.”
“Well you get on my nerves,” I replied, not really meaning it.
“So, tell me what’s wrong.” Amy reached for Biggins to pull him onto her lap, but he batted a paw at her and stalked off, probably to beg for food from Mum who was tidying up the kitchen, while Dad got Elijah’s advice on some bush in the garden which he thought might be dying.
“There’s nothing wrong,” I sighed, rolling my eyes.
“Samuel,” Amy warned.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I cried. “I spent all of yesterday with Maisie and Frankie, okay.”
Amy’s eyes went as wide as saucers, her mouth opening
into the perfect ‘o’, as I realised it hadn’t taken much for me to spill my shit.
“Oh my god,” she eventually gasped. “How did that happen?”
I shrugged, not sure what to tell her, unsure whether Maisie would want her to know. Amy pulled her legs up onto the sofa and edged her body closer, her face full of expectant excitement.
“Tell me, Samuel, because last time we spoke she’d given you shit for being his swimming teacher, so what the hell happened to make her want to spend a whole day with you?”
“And night.”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I winced.
“Fuck.”
“Night! God, Sam.”
“It’s not what you’re thinking,” I exclaimed, pointing a finger at her.
“So what is it then?” Amy moved even closer. “Because it sounds like exactly what I’m thinking.”
I sighed and ran a hand down my face. She wasn’t going to let it drop, so I spent the next few minutes telling her about Maisie, Frankie, and Josh.
“What a bastard,” Amy hissed when I finished. “And the police just said they’d keep an eye out?”
“Yep.”
“And how do you feel about that?” she asked. “Him being a threat to your son.”
“I don’t-.”
I didn’t finish my sentence because of the gasp that sounded from the doorway, pulling my gaze to it.
“Your son?” My mum drew in a breath and placed a shaking hand against her chest. “Samuel?”
“Shit.” Amy closed her eyes, without turning her head. “Please tell me your mum isn’t here.”
“Nope, she’s here.”
I got up from the sofa and walked toward my mum, her face devoid of any colour. Her eyes were sparkling with tears and her chest was heaving.
“Mum,” I said, pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I have a grandson,” she whimpered against my chest. “You have a son.”
Guilt stabbed at my chest, knowing I’d kept something so precious from her for so long. My mum was a woman who always had a cause to fight for, someone who wouldn’t take shit from anyone. I’d seen her argue with executive directors of fuel companies and go toe to toe with hardened politicians, yet put Bella in her arms and she turned to mush, smothering her granddaughter with kisses and enveloping her with love, and I knew she’d be exactly the same with Frankie given the chance; but I’d taken that opportunity away from her.
“It’s complicated, Mum,” I said, taking a step back from her.
“How complicated?” she asked. “Tell me.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t what I wanted. I was honest with her from the start and we agreed that no one would know.”
“Why? Surely the poor child deserved to know his family?” Mum wrapped her arms around her waist and strangled out a sob.
“Yvetta,” Amy said softly. “Come and sit down.”
She led Mum to a chair, guiding her down onto it.
“Maybe he does deserve a family,” I continued, watching my mum intently. “But he doesn’t deserve a father who really doesn’t want the job.”
“And does he have someone he calls ‘dad’?” Mum asked as Amy perched on the arm of the chair and gently rubbed Mum’s back.
I drew in a breath and then very slowly exhaled, trying to rid the tension in my chest and shoulders.
“No.” My voice sounded flat and as soon as I said the word more guilt hit me. “His mum did have someone, but recently kicked him out.”
“But you’ve been spending time with him, from what I heard you say to Amy?” She sounded hopeful and I really wished she hadn’t heard us.
I nodded. “I have, but it’s a long story.”
“Well I want to hear it. I want to know about my grandson. How old is he? What’s his name? Can we meet him?”
Panic hit me as she blurted out each question and I felt my chest tighten as my gut roiled.
“No Mum, no, it’s not possible.”
“But why not?”
I could see the desperation in her eyes and this was exactly what I’d been wanting to avoid all these years.
“He has no idea I’m his dad,” I cried. “Maisie and I agreed that he’d never find out.”
“But why?” she pleaded, reaching out for my hand. “Why can’t he find out?”
“Because it’s not what I want.”
“Why don’t you? He’s your son, surely you want that?”
“No, I really don’t,” I implored.
“But Sam-,” Amy started.
“No, no way, Amy. Just don’t.” I held my hand up and retreated from them. “You both need to stay out of this and listen to me. He is to never know and you need to forget about him. I mean it.”
“What the hell is going on in here?”
We all turned to see Dad standing and watching us.
“What’s the shouting about?”
Mum stood up and almost ran to Dad, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her cheek against his chest.
“James, talk to him,” she sobbed.
“What about, love?” Dad asked, lifting her chin.
“He has a son James. He has a son and he doesn’t want the boy to know.”
Dad stared at me and the way he looked at me, I’d never felt like such a disappointment in my whole life.
Samuel
the past
I don’t know how I was expecting to feel once I knew that Maisie was in labour, but fear was the one emotion that surprised me.
Gut clenching fear gripped me as I stared down at the text on my phone.
Maisie – You asked me to keep you informed. Am in labour and just off to hospital.
I didn’t know whether to reply or throw my phone away and pretend I had no idea who Maisie was and why she was texting me.
“What’s wrong?” Hazel, my boss, asked. “You’ve gone a pale shade of green.”
My head shot up and as our eyes met, I swallowed the huge fucking lump in my throat.
“Nothing,” I replied, putting my phone to the back of my desk. “Just something I forgot to do.”
Hazel eyed me warily, one eyebrow raised.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, positive.”
I cleared my throat and went back to checking the CV that was on my computer screen.
“You can go now, Sam, if you need to. You’re here until seven most nights, so I really don’t mind you taking the afternoon. Eve can check these CVs when she gets back from lunch – she needs to have a little more responsibility.”
My eyes darted to my phone. I wasn’t planning on being at the hospital, or even seeing the kid, but I knew I’d be restless and agitated all afternoon waiting for Maisie’s next text – I wanted it to go well for her. Just because it wasn’t for me, didn’t mean that I didn’t want it all to be okay.
“You wouldn’t mind?” I asked, already closing down my PC.
“No Sam, now get off and do what you need to do,” Hazel replied with a smile. “We won’t crumble without you for the afternoon.”
When she laughed, I rolled my eyes and pushed up from my desk. “Thanks, Hazel. See you in the morning and try not to ruin the place.”
It was no secret that I thought the business would go to shit without me, and to be fair Hazel often agreed.
A half hour later and I was changed into grey sweatpants and a t-shirt, pacing the apartment waiting and wondering. Elijah had called me and I’d ignored his call, letting it go to voicemail. I knew it wouldn’t be urgent – he was just starting up a gardening business and I’d put him in touch with a few contacts, so it would probably be about that or the fact he wouldn’t be home for dinner again. I just knew I couldn’t speak to him, or anyone else for that matter – I was too wound up, even the gentle hum of the central heating was annoying me.
To keep myself occupied, I put in a load of laundry, washed and dried mine and Elijah’s breakfast dishes and even cleaned two pai
rs of shoes – it was fucking stressful just waiting.
Finally, at almost nine pm the text came.
Maisie: Frankie James born at 745 weighing 7lb 3oz.
That was it, nothing else. I had no idea how she was feeling, whether it had all gone well. The one thing that did strike me was that he had my dad’s name as his middle name – how was that for a coincidence?
I looked down at my phone again and reread Maisie’s text. Seeing the words made my skin itch and my fingers twitch. I curled them into my palms and then stretched them out again and edged my index finger toward the screen. I pulled it back, and ran my hand through my hair, trying to use it as an act of distraction.
I could almost hear my heart beating, it was thumping so hard. My lungs felt tight and I was confused by the feeling of excitement – or was it trepidation – which was swilling around in my stomach.
Looking over at the clock on the cooker, I knew what I had to do – what I wanted to do. I swiped up my keys and rushed out of the apartment with only one destination in mind.
Maisie
the present
It had been two days since I’d heard or seen Sam and even though I knew it was totally a bad idea that he be involved in our lives, I was kind of hoping he’d call around or even text me. I did think he might have checked up on us, but I couldn’t blame him, I’d been adamant I’d be the one to call him if I needed anything. Sam had also made me promise to call the Police if Josh turned up again, but thankfully there’d been no sign.
