Faye had apparently known that he might be Caitlyn’s father, and had said nothing to me. I had
accused Paddy of betraying me by not telling me. Wasn’t Faye equally guilty – more so,
because of our bond of blood? Paddy’s revelation had put a damaging filter over those
memories of the last few years with Faye, years I had treasured after she died. Everything
looked different now. All those times that Faye had encouraged Caitlyn to go to Uncle Paddy,
said with a laughing smile that I hadn’t thought twice about at the time; all the conversations I
had shared with Faye, when I had told her of my growing feelings for Paddy, and she had joked
what a brilliant father he would make … Had she been mocking me, not teasing? I would never
know; these doubts would stain my memories of her forever, because there could be no
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explanation, no apology. The purity, the innocence of our relationship and my feelings for her
could never recover from this.
I must have fallen into an exhausted doze eventually, because I was woken by a
persistent banging on the door of my room at just past six. I knew who it would be, but still
staggered over and opened the door. Paddy’s fist was raised, ready to knock again. He had
showered and changed, and I felt acutely conscious that I was still wearing yesterday’s
crumpled clothes: the dress that he had helped me into when we were rushing out to the
restaurant last night; the dress I had imagined him taking off me later. How much had changed
in those few hours!
Before I could speak, he reached out and stroked the side of my cheek. My treacherous
skin still blazed at his touch.
‘You haven’t slept. Are you okay?’
Okay? How could he think any of this was okay? I didn’t reply.
‘Stupid question,’ he said, squeezing past me into the room, although I hadn’t invited
him in. ‘This is a mess. We need to talk.’
‘Do we?’ I sat down on the crumpled bed, and flinched when Paddy sat down on the
other side. Hardly twelve hours ago we had been entwined together in this bed, skin sliding
over skin, so close that it had truly felt as if we were fused into one; the sheets still bore the
scent of him, of us, which was why I had spent the night on the chair.
‘You said more than enough last night,’ I continued. My voice sounded flat, hoarse
from lack of sleep. ‘What else is there to say? I used to hate you for what you did – walking
out on us when we needed you. But that was nothing compared to what I now know you did.
You walked out on us, knowing that Caitlyn might be your own child. What sort of man would
do that?’
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‘Not a man. A boy. A young, foolish and cowardly boy.’ Paddy stood up and wandered
over to the window, tugging a hand through his curls. ‘Jeez, you can’t have hated me as much
as I’ve hated myself. You were everything, you know that, right?’
He was looking at me, I could tell, but I wouldn’t meet his gaze.
‘Faye dropped her hints for a while, but then it stopped. It was as if she’d never said
anything. And it was easy to convince myself that she’d just been winding me up, because
that’s what I wanted to believe. I’d stopped even thinking about it. But then Caitlyn came to
live with us, and one day she said something – in my words, my accent – and it freaked me out.
Made me wonder all over again whether she really might be mine. You didn’t notice that time,
but what if it happened again? What if she started to look like me too – or if we had children
who looked just the same? I couldn’t live like that, with this huge secret ready to explode; every
bit of happiness laced with fear that it might be the last. And I couldn’t face telling you the
truth, and hurting you even more than you were already hurting; couldn’t risk damaging your
feelings about Caitlyn when she was depending on you. So I had to leave. And leaving you
was the single hardest thing I’ve ever done.’
The rawness in his voice was breaking my heart all over again. But Paddy hadn’t
finished yet.
‘It was an impulsive decision, made when I was a stupid boy. I wouldn’t make the same
one now. I wouldn’t even have made the same one a year later. I went around the world, and
worked on some of the digs, as we’d planned, but it wasn’t the same without you. Don’t think
I had an amazing time and never gave you another thought. That’s not true. I grew up and I
realised what I’d done. The regret was always with me.’
I couldn’t help myself.
‘So why stay away?’ I asked. ‘If you regretted it so much, why not come back?’
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‘I almost did in those first couple of years – more times than I can count.’ Paddy sat
down next to me again. ‘And each time, I stopped myself. I would have been coming back for
me – to stop me blaming myself, to stop the guilt. When I thought about what was best for
Caitlyn, I knew I couldn’t come back. She would have been settled with you by then; and
perhaps you would have found a new partner, though it killed me to think of it. I couldn’t do
anything to rock that. It didn’t matter who I was to her. That was only DNA. You were her real
parent. She needed you more than she needed me.’
He reached out and placed his hand over mine on the bed, twisting his fingers with
mine. I studied his face. It was the same face that I had fallen in love with twice, and yet it
could never be the same now. My eyes were roving, trying to read the truth in his features,
looking for any resemblance to Caitlyn, just as I had studied photos of her through the night.
Was this how it would always be now? Not able to see one without immediately thinking of
the other? Scrutinising them both, whenever they were together? Suspicion placing a negative
filter on love? How would I live like that? I couldn’t. And if it meant saying goodbye to one of
them, there was no choice about it. Paddy had made the decision for me in the past, leaving me
with Caitlyn. Now I wouldn’t hesitate to make the same decision for myself.
‘Over the years, I convinced myself that it couldn’t be true,’ Paddy carried on. He
seemed determined to make his confession, however much it was hurting us both. ‘It had been
a one-off, quick fumble. Hardly anything. What were the chances of a pregnancy from that?
But years later, when Amy couldn’t have a baby, I began to think about it again. When I had
the tests, I thought it might have removed the doubt, if I’d been infertile. But I wasn’t … And
then when I found out this year that Amy was pregnant with her new man, the niggle wouldn’t
go away that I might already have a child. And only a couple of weeks later, by some miracle,
you turned up at that school when I was giving a talk and it seemed I’d been given a chance to
find out …’
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‘That’s why you were so pleased to see me then?’ I interrupted. ‘When you said you
wanted to explain, it was about this – about Caitlyn? All the visits to Inglebridge since then,
all the questions about my life, all the time we’ve spent together, the of
fer to come to Paris,’ I
ended on a half-sob. ‘It’s only ever been about Caitlyn?’
I withdrew my hand, stood up and went into the bathroom to pour a glass of water. I
looked at myself in the mirror. A tired face stared back, stained by lack of sleep and the remains
of yesterday’s make-up. An old face. I was twice as old as when I had first met Paddy and, as
I now knew, twice as stupid. How could I have fallen for his charm again? It was a sham, just
as surely as it had been last time. He had never been interested in me; I was nothing but the
means for him to get close to Caitlyn. He had just confessed as much. Why had I let him fool
me again? And why, out of everything, was it this confession that had caused me the most
pain?
I wiped away the make-up, washed my face, and brushed my hair until I looked
presentable again. I wasn’t going to fall apart this time, any more than I had the last. Then, I’d
had Caitlyn to force me to hold myself together. Now … The sounds of the city waking drifted
through the window, and I rallied. Life was going on outside these rooms, and mine would go
on too. I had a future. I had a house, friends, and a new career in archaeology to explore. I was
an independent woman, more so than ever, with Caitlyn settled and money in the bank. I had
managed without Paddy Friel until this year. I would learn to manage without him again.
My resolve wavered when I returned to the bedroom and saw Paddy sitting on the bed,
exactly as I had left him, one hand still lying on the covers where it had been joined with mine
a few minutes ago. There were tears in his eyes, and he looked defeated – an expression I had
never seen on his face before. He jumped up and came towards me.
‘That came out wrong. It was about Caitlyn at first,’ he said. He tried to take my hand,
but I shook him off. ‘I just wanted to see her for myself. I thought that if I saw her, spoke to
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her, I would somehow know the truth; I would know if she was mine. But soon it was all about
you. I started to fall in love with you again when you strapped that bag of peas to my leg. I
didn’t stand a chance after that. You have to believe me, Eve.’
I didn’t have to – but oh, how I wanted to! My body was still drawn to him, even as my
head and my heart were pulling away. Yesterday I had given my whole self to him, as if we
were half our age and nothing could tear us apart. But I should have known better. I should
never have allowed myself to hope.
‘Get out, Paddy,’ I said.
‘You don’t mean that. Yesterday …’
‘What about yesterday?’ I asked, fighting to keep the tremor out of my voice. ‘That was
just sex.’
‘No, it bloody wasn’t. Not on my side. And I don’t believe it was for you either.’ He
stood up, facing me. ‘You’re really saying it meant nothing? Like with the boor?’
‘Not like Rich. Don’t flatter yourself it was that good.’
It was a cheap shot. I regretted it as soon as I saw the pain flash across his face; because
even now, seeing his pain hurt me too.
‘Yesterday I behaved like an idiot,’ I said. An idiot who drank champagne and thought
that Paddy Friel might love her. Idiot hardly covered half of that. ‘Today I’m myself again. I
have a flight to catch and I’m not going to miss it simply so that you can ease your conscience
by confessing and making excuses. Leave me alone.’
He took a few steps towards the door, then stopped.
‘I need to know if she’s mine,’ he said. ‘I want to do a test.’
‘No.’ I opened the door and clutched the handle to steady myself; I needed to hold on
for a few more seconds. ‘You said it yourself. She’s better off without you. We both are. If you
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don’t leave now, I’ll ring reception and ask for you to be removed. I mean it, Paddy. This is
over.’
Finally, he left. I slammed the door behind him, and collapsed onto the bed in tears.
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CHAPTER 23
‘What the heck are these?’ Gran asked, as I handed her the box of biscuits I had chosen for her
at Charles de Gaulle airport. ‘Are these shortbread?’
‘Something similar. You probably won’t notice the difference.’
Gran gave me the withering look that comment deserved.
‘Very kind of you,’ she said, putting the unopened box down on the table at her side. I
expected it would find its way into the Christmas tombola – and knowing my luck, I would
win it back. ‘But you don’t need to give me anything fancy. The regular shortbread will do on
Sunday.’
It was Thursday – not my usual day to visit Gran, but forty-eight hours after my return
from Paris, I needed some of her healing skills. Not that she had any medicine that could heal
my wounds this time, but being with her, listening to her acerbic comments about her fellow
inmates – as she liked to call them – would provide a distraction, at least. Or so I thought.
‘Are you sure there’s nothing up with Caitlyn?’ Gran asked, breaking off from an eye-
watering anecdote about Mr Craig and a cold flannel. ‘You look peaky, and more your age than
normal. How will anyone believe I’m only sixty-five now?’
‘She’s fine,’ I said. ‘More than fine. She loves it over there. She seems very happy with
Luc. I can’t imagine she’ll ever come home.’
‘Rattling around your empty nest, are you?’ Gran patted my hand. ‘It’s early days. Mark
my words, this time next year you’ll see it as a blessing.’
‘Is that how you felt when Dad moved out?’
‘No. I never stopped missing him. I never will.’ Gran adjusted the blanket over her
knees; it was an unusually warm afternoon, even for August, and we were sitting in deckchairs
in the garden. ‘So if it’s not Caitlyn that’s given you the hangdog look, it must be Paddy. Did
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things not work out in Paris? I thought he’d have managed to put a bit of colour in your cheeks
by now.’
Was that a euphemism? Judging by Gran’s smile, I had a horrible feeling that it was.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve had words again?’ Gran asked. ‘What’s he done this time?’
I didn’t reply. Where would I ever begin? I was still trying to get my head round the
whole sorry mess – veering from despair to disbelief and back again. I had no idea what I
should do or how I should feel. I had changed my seat on the flight back to Manchester, so I
wasn’t next to Paddy, and had dashed out of the airport before him, but he was being more
persistent than I had expected. He had tried to ring and left messages so often that in the end I
had blocked and deleted his number, but had then immediately regretted it. It was all very well
deciding that I should hate him again, but my heart wasn’t receiving the instruction from my
head. I missed him – or the man I had spent time with over the last few months, at least.
‘Come on, you can tell your old gran. I’ve been around for long enough. Not much can
shock me now.’
‘Paddy might be Caitlyn’s father.’
Clearly Gran hadn’t been around quit
e long enough, as she stared at me slack-jawed.
Perhaps I should have broken the news more gently, but what good would that have done? The
facts were the facts, and they wouldn’t change whatever words I used.
‘You’re having me on,’ Gran said at last. ‘Who told you that? They want their bumps
feeling. Take no notice of claptrap like that.’
‘Paddy told me.’
‘He always was a joker,’ Gran said, but I could see the doubt creeping across her face.
‘He’s pulling your leg. Too many pints of Guinness. I’m right, you’ll see.’
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I wished she was, but not even Paddy would joke about this. And I’d seen the desire in
his face, heard the crack in his voice as he’d suggested that Caitlyn might be his daughter. He
believed it was possible, and that meant I had no choice but to believe it too.
‘He ran into Faye when she visited me at university,’ I said, sparing Gran the sordid
details of the fumble in the pub car park. The less I thought about that, the better. ‘It was long
before I met him. He says he’d forgotten about it until I took him home, and then Faye reminded
him and wound him up about Caitlyn being his. But she wasn’t like that, was she? She wouldn’t
have been deliberately cruel. And she wouldn’t have risked hurting me, if I’d overheard
something like that.’
It was the thing that had haunted me most over the last couple of days, eclipsing Paddy’s
part in all this. Why hadn’t Faye told me that she had a history with Paddy? The only
explanation I could come up with was that she had seen how much I loved him, and had kept
her silence to protect me; so it made no sense that she would tease Paddy about it. Gran was
silent for a long time, but eventually reached out and took my hand. She squeezed, and despite
her frailty, her thick wedding band pressed into my fingers.
‘You always did see the best in her,’ Gran said. ‘And you still do. Bless you for that.’
A Dozen Second Chances (ARC) Page 29
