by Adele Parks
Simon nodded. ‘Where do I sign?’
Sometimes there were extra conditions. Offenders were told they could not make contact with certain people or live at the same address as children. Others were required to submit to drug tests. There was nothing in place to address the issue of drinking, because alcohol was a legal substance even if it did lead to amnesia, lies, violence and crime.
Simon didn’t have to plead his case, the way he would have if this had been a parole hearing. This was a process. There were conditions and rules that he had to abide by and then he could earn his freedom. That was the deal society made. Yet he found he wanted to explain himself, offer something more. He wanted to be heard.
‘I’m going to go to meetings. I’m going to stay sober. And I’ll make her see that I’m not useless. Not hopeless. I’m going to make it up to them, for the time I lost, being in here and the time before that. The time I threw away. I’m going to be a better man.’
The governor coughed. Embarrassed for Simon. ‘Right. Sign here to say you’ve read and understood the conditions. Get back to me with that address. And Simon—’
‘What?’
‘Good luck to you. Be good.’
38
Chapter 38, Daisy
Thursday, 4th July 2019
As a rule, Daryll does not text or call, he just turns up. Since the dinner at Connie’s, he has knocked at my door twice, late at night, after Millie was fast asleep. Both times I let him in. For a man who professes to want a family, he doesn’t seem especially interested in getting to know Millie. But, honestly, I’m grateful for that. I dread the day when he does say he wants to get to know her better. At the moment he seems willing to just have me, as and when. I’m prepared to be a human wall and stand between them, for as long as possible. I haven’t mentioned him to her yet, as I don’t know how to start the conversation.
Because of this pattern, I’m surprised to receive a text from him today.
Taking you out for dinner. Have something to discuss.
Dress up. Dx
* * *
Not an invite, just orders that I have to obey. Some women like their men to dominate them, at least from time to time. It’s part of the attraction. I do not. With Daryll, I see it for what it is. He holds all the cards. He is the biological father of my much-loved daughter. If I don’t behave as he wants, if I disobey him, I have no idea what the consequences might be.
I ring for an agency babysitter because I don’t want to ask my friends or family, it will lead to too many questions and I never feel comfortable with Millie doing sleepovers at friends whilst I’m out, for obvious reasons. I follow instructions and ‘dress up’. It’s not that I want to make myself more attractive to Daryll, I just don’t want to infuriate him. Things are bad enough. I have a long-sleeved black chiffon dress, that’s a classic, I decide that it will do. I’m shocked when I try it on because it’s loose. It used to be quite snug. I don’t really spend much time looking in the mirror but when I check my reflection my weight loss is confirmed. All my life I have longed to be skinny, or if not that then certainly slimmer. I’ve achieved that. I look fragile, gaunt. I’m disappearing. It goes to show, you have to be careful what you wish for.
Even though the babysitter is sitting downstairs, Millie perches on the side of my bed and watches me get ready. She is curious because other than school dos with other teachers, and my book club, I rarely go out without her. ‘Are you going on a date?’ she asks. She meets my eye through the mirror as I apply lipstick.
‘What would you think if I was?’
She shrugs. ‘I wouldn’t mind.’
‘I’m having dinner with an old university friend.’
‘The man I met at Connie’s? Daryll?’
‘Yes.’
She considers this for a moment and then asks, ‘Do you think Daddy will mind?’ I don’t know how to answer her question. I’m stunned she’s asked it. She hardly ever mentions Simon. The doorbell rings and I’m surprisingly grateful that Daryll is prompt.
She follows me down the stairs, limping heavily, which suggests she’s tired or maybe upset. I’d have preferred it if she’d stayed out of Daryll’s sight, but I didn’t know how to suggest it to her without raising her suspicions.
The babysitter has let Daryll in. I find him stood in the kitchen chatting affably to her. The babysitter is known to me, June. June is in her late fifties and I taught her two boys. I spotted that the younger one was dyslexic and got him the proper help. I know she likes me and, the same as most people who live around here, she knows more about my life than is ideal. She beams at me, commenting indiscreetly, ‘It’s nice to see you getting out.’ She stands behind Daryll’s back and puts her thumbs up. He’s the sort of man who gives a good first impression.
‘Ah ha! Here they are. The two ladies I’ve been waiting for!’ says Daryll. I smile politely but Millie looks a bit perplexed. She can’t imagine why this stranger might be waiting for her or why he might be calling her a lady. She’s a girl and then she’ll be a woman. Her generation are aware of the expectations and restrictions that come with being labelled a lady. ‘I have something for you, both.’ He presents me with an enormous bouquet of flowers. It’s pretty, mostly pink. A long time ago, Simon used to buy me yellow, red or orange flowers. He knew they were my favourite colours.
‘Oh lovely, I’ll find a vase,’ I say automatically. The flowers are lovely. It’s impossible for flowers to be ugly, still I want to throw them in the bin.
‘And this is for you, Millie.’ Daryll stoops to the floor and picks up an enormous cardboard box. He carefully places it on the breakfast bar. I immediately notice that there are holes in the box and in the moment I think, ‘Oh no, he wouldn’t.’ Millie opens the lid and reveals…
‘A kitten!’ She squeals with delight and scoops a grey ball of fluff out of the box. ‘Oh my days! She’s the most adorable thing ever!’
‘He, I think,’ says Daryll, with a laugh.
‘He’s the most adorable thing!’ She starts to plant kisses on the kitten, kiss after kiss. ‘Is he for me, really?’
‘Yes.’
‘Oh, thank you, thank you. He’s perfect.’ The tiny scrap wiggles in her hands so she carefully places the kitten on the floor and for a moment we all just marvel at the immeasurably cute little thing.
But I’m also fuming. What a stupid, irresponsible gift to give a child. Bringing a pet into a family is a big deal, what makes him think he can make that unilateral decision. He should have discussed it with me.
‘How did you know that I’ve always wanted a kitten?’ Millie asks excitedly.
‘I just had a feeling that you needed something to love, and everyone loves kittens, right?’
June puts her hand to her heart, I think she’s about to burst with happiness, she evidently thinks Daryll’s gesture is generous and romantic. Millie obviously thinks it’s just the best idea ever. I think it’s a trap. He could have given Millie sweets, that would have been a suitable first meeting gift, but that wouldn’t have been as memorable or impactful. Sweets are not permanent. ‘I’ve a few other things in my car. A basket, a litter tray, some toys. I’ll just go and get them,’ he says, flinging his most charming grin left, right and centre.
‘Oh, you’ve thought of everything,’ says June, approvingly.
‘Hasn’t he,’ I mutter more darkly.
Daryll returns with three huge carrier bags of shopping from Pets at Home. He does indeed seem to have thought of everything. He sets up a litter tray in one corner of the kitchen, food and water in another. Millie isn’t much interested in anything other than the kitten. I realise that this equipment must have cost a fair amount and that with every fluffy mouse on a ribbon that is unpacked Daryll is marking his territory. There is no way I can ask him to take all this away. Asking Millie to give up the kitten is an impossibility.
‘What are you going to call him?’ I ask, accepting the inevitable.
‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Cl
oud. He’s so fluffy, and light grey. He’s sort of a rain cloud colour, isn’t he?’
‘Oh no, that’s not a very good name,’ says Daryll, abruptly.
Millie looks surprised to be brooked, mostly her suggestions are met with approval because there’s just the two of us, and other than eating vegetables and bedtimes, I’m usually open to her suggestions and views. ‘What do you think, then?’ she asks Daryll.
‘I’d give him a proper name, like Stanley or Cedric. Eric. We should call him Eric.’
Millie doesn’t look convinced but is too polite to say so. She looks to me for support. ‘What do you think Mum?’
‘I like Cloud,’ I say bravely.
‘We’re calling it Eric,’ says Daryll. ‘End of discussion.’
* * *
We leave the house not long after that. I don’t want to go out, I want to stay in and watch Millie play with her kitten, but I don’t want Daryll to spend the evening with Millie. I’m still trying to put the brakes on whatever is happening here. I’m still hoping to retain some control. The fact I have very little was highlighted to me when Daryll looked at his watch and said, ‘We have to leave now, Daisy. We have a reservation. I’m leaving my car here. We’ll take the tube. I want a drink and I certainly don’t want to drink and drive.’
We catch the tube into central London. Daryll doesn’t seem to want to chat, I get the feeling he is saving it all up until we get to the restaurant and that suits me. I have nothing to say to him. We get off the tube at Temple and he leads me down a narrow passage to a restaurant that tourists would never discover and is almost certainly designed for clever people in the know. I don’t consider myself to be one of those types but Daryll does and always has. There’s something about how he holds himself, how he dresses and even speaks, that suggests he’s out to make an impression; he cares that people notice him. When I was young, I used to think his stiff formality was posh and proper. I was in awe of him. As I got to know him better, and maybe as I got to know myself better too, I thought his aloofness was a cover for either arrogance or insecurity or both. It is possible to be both things at once, and the combination is toxic. Now, I think his rigid reserve is a symptom, a disguise to hide what he really is. A man with utter disregard for anyone else’s feelings, desires or concerns. A psychopath.
He’s picked the sort of restaurant that is so trendy it’s terrifying. The entire place is white. The walls, ceiling and floors, the tablecloths, napkins and chairs. Even though I’m dressed up, I felt like a smudge. We are sat in straight-backed chairs that are as beautiful as they are uncomfortable. Daryll smiles at me. ‘Isn’t this splendid? Our first date.’
I nod stupidly, because it all seems too bizarre. Who has a first date, nine years after their child is born?
A waitress appears at our table. She is very young. Maybe twenty. She’s clearly a model-in-waiting, so beautiful she seems unreal. Daryll turns the full force of his charm and attention on her. I notice that she’s impervious. I think he does too, because he looks irritated but won’t quit. He just ups the ante. He’s all attention and smiles. He says, ‘I hope the food is as gorgeous as you are.’ She glances at me and I think I see sympathy in her eyes. I blush. Seeing him outside of my bedroom I look at him in a different light. I can see him as others do. When the waitress looks at Daryll she sees a man who is approaching middle age and hasn’t accepted it. He is old enough to be her father. He was once so handsome and considered by many to be irresistible. I think for the first time I start to understand why he’s chosen to have me in his life. I remember that about him. His chiselled good looks, his allure. I shore up his vanity. Women he meets now will still see a good-looking man, but they might want to add the old qualifier ‘for his age’. Older women, like June, will think he’s charming, swoon-worthy, but Daryll would never be interested in an older woman and it appears that younger women are no longer interested in him. Women my age come with baggage, it just so happens that my baggage is his.
Daryll orders us both a gin and tonic. ‘They serve Hernö gin here. You have to try it.’
‘I don’t really drink spirits.’
‘You’ll love it.’
The beautiful, and I like to think ballsy, waitress returns with our drinks and some olives. I leave both untouched but Daryll pitches in enthusiastically. He orders for both of us from the specials board. Just a main course because he comments, ‘You don’t stay looking this good if you over indulge.’ He laughs as he says this, but I think he does want to draw attention to his lean physique. I imagine he works at it. I don’t have the energy to mention that I don’t like my steak rare. I like it medium to well done. I know it’s not the fashionable way to have it but I just don’t like to see all that blood swilling around on my plate. It doesn’t matter, I have no appetite anyway, so it doesn’t matter what he orders for me. As soon as we are alone, he pitches in.
‘I have put an offer in on a house and it’s been accepted. I’m a cash buyer so the sale will go through in five to six weeks.’
‘Oh. Well, congratulations.’ I know it’s not a simple case of him giving me his good news.
‘Your house needs to go on the market immediately. I imagine it will take a little longer to sell but if we give it a lick of paint, cheer it up a bit, someone will want it.’
I seem to have no control over my body. It turns to stone. Then it turns to sand. I trickle to nothing. ‘Why would I put my house on the market?’
‘Don’t be silly, Daisy. We agreed Millie deserves better than you can give her. You are both coming to live with me. I’ve also put her name down at a private school, nearby. It’s a good one. Does well on the league tables, it’s not just a matter of convenience. It’s an all-girls school.’
‘I don’t want Millie to go to a single-sex school.’ That’s just part of it. I don’t want any of this.
‘It will be more suitable, going forward, as she gets older.’ The wine he ordered is brought to our table. He takes his time to examine the label. I notice he moves his head back a fraction to focus on the label, as though they’d bring the wrong one. He takes his time to swirl the wine around the glass, sniff it, then slowly sip and swill it in his mouth. It’s excruciating. The wine waiter and I keep our eyes on the bottle the entire time.
‘Oh yes, very fine,’ he pronounces and at last two glasses can be poured. I need mine but also feel it’s important to keep a clear head. He holds his glass aloft. ‘New beginnings.’ I tap my glass against his and take the smallest of sips. My hand is shaking as I take the glass to my lips. I hope he hasn’t noticed.
‘Millie likes her school. She has friends there.’
‘She’ll make new friends,’ he says jovially. ‘I don’t think it’s healthy that you teach at the school she attends. You could give up your job but even so I think private school is the way to go.’
I don’t. I take a deep breath. ‘This is all happening too fast for me.’
Daryll looks surprised. ‘Daisy, your dreams are coming true. We both know you’ve been in love with me for ever. Way before you even met Simon Barnes. I’m giving you a beautiful home, I’m giving your daughter a father, and instead of getting old alone, you get to be my partner. Maybe my wife.’ He winks at me and sips more wine.
Does he honestly believe this plan of his makes sense, that he can railroad me this way? Not just me, but Millie too. He so clearly doesn’t understand the first thing about being a parent. I can’t just pluck her out of school, take her from her home, tell her she has a new daddy in six weeks!
Yes, he does think he can railroad me this way because I’ve never been able to show him that he can’t. But this is different now, this isn’t just about me it’s about Millie too. It’s all about Millie, everything I’ve ever done was for her and I’m not going to allow him to bully us.
I take a deep breath and gather my courage.
‘Here we have two steaks,’ the waiter puts the food on our table. I notice that the beautiful waitress is nowhere to be see
n. She’s probably asked her colleague to take over. She probably said she didn’t want to serve the creepy, controlling man. The waiter fusses for a bit. Offers various condiments that Daryll considers but after some time, rejects. He asks for something they don’t offer. A particular sauce, I’m not really concentrating on what he’s saying, something about it being served that way in New York. The waiter returns to the kitchen, says he’ll see what he can do.
Daryll takes my hand in his, he slowly turns it and then brings my wrist to his lips. Anyone looking on will see the tenderness in the gesture. It sends shivers through me. He leans closer to me and whispers quietly.
‘This is what is going to happen, Daisy. You are going to visit Simon and you are going to ask for a divorce. You are going to tell him, Millie and all your friends and family that Millie is my daughter.’
‘But,’ I gasp.
‘You will tell everyone we had a love affair and that we are resuming it. Your friends will forgive you. Even understand. Your life with Simon was not easy and you turned to me for comfort. Everyone forgave Connie. Everyone forgave Lucy. You are the only person who holds grudges. You are the one who judges. Others will see this as the love story it is.’ He lets go of my hand and picks up his knife and fork. I watch as he slices through the tender meat. ‘What you need to bear in mind, Daisy, is that I’m going to be Millie’s father, regardless of how much you like my plan. I’ve already talked to a lawyer. She will be living at my new home in Muswell Hill for a minimum of one week out of every two. She’s mine as much as she’s yours.’
‘No, she’s not. I’ve been with her since—’
‘Yes she is.’
