She paused in the hallway to give Olivia one more quick cuddle. That's my fix for today,' she murmured and took the baby back in to Martha.
Chapter 21
After the crèche closed for the day, Dee and Lisa went into the kitchen to discuss the two candidates.
'I'm bored, Mum,' Sam complained, kicking his foot against the leg of the table. 'What can I do?'
'You can paint,' Dee announced.
'Yeah! Cool!'
When Dee had dressed him in one of her old T-shirts, set him up with an array of different colours, three large sheets of paper, water and a brush, she joined Lisa on the sofa and took a grateful sip of the tea Lisa had made. 'Oh, I needed that.'
She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her. 'So, tell me, what do you think?'
'One almost definite,' Lisa said, her eyes twinkling with excitement. 'The first girl, Yvonne.'
Dee nodded. 'I didn't get that much time with her but she seemed to know what she was talking about.'
'She was great with the children, Dee. Firm and confidant but loving, too.'
'And does she have the references you wanted?'
Lisa looked at the CV in her hand. 'Yes, I'll give them a call tomorrow but she has impressive qualifications and her last job was in a crèche in the city, one of the big ones.'
'Does that mean she's unemployed now, though?' Dee looked concerned.
'Yes, but only because she left to nurse her dying father. He passed away last month.'
Dee still wasn't happy. 'Why didn't she get her old job back?'
'She sold her father's house and decided to move away; too many memories. I believe her, but, like I say, there are plenty of referees I can talk to.'
'And the second girl? Sally, wasn't it?'
Lisa shook her head. 'She looked good on paper and said all the right things but she just seemed a little cold and distant with the children.'
'I don't know if I'd say cold, but she definitely seemed quite reserved,' Dee agreed.
She stood up and went over to check on her son's progress. He was carefully painting purple planes of all shapes and sizes. Though Dee had set out a variety of colours, purple was the only one he was using and, these days, planes were all he wanted to paint. 'That's lovely, sweetheart. Why don't you paint some blue planes now?'
He shook his head, not looking up. 'They have to be purple.'
'He's a gas little man,' Lisa murmured when Dee rejoined her. 'He always has very firm ideas about what he wants.'
'I know where he gets that from,' Dee whispered back.
'Neil.' Lisa nodded.
Dee smiled. 'He always knew exactly what he wanted from life, he was always very forceful and stubborn and yet now . . .'
'You've seen him again, haven't you?' Lisa's eyes searched her face.
Dee looked over to make sure Sam was still absorbed in his artwork and then nodded. 'I met him on Friday morning for a chat.'
Lisa shot her a reproachful look. 'You told me you were going into Dublin to find a new chef.'
'And I did, but I met him too. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Lisa, but I was afraid you'd try to stop me.'
'Who do you think you're talking to – Pauline?'
'Sorry,' Dee said again.
'So did you learn anything?'
'Not much,' Dee admitted. 'But later on he was great.'
'Later on?' Lisa said blankly.
Dee sighed. 'I called him from the hospital. I had to,' she added when she saw the look on her friend's face, 'I just had to. He came over.'
Lisa's eyes widened. 'What?'
'Oh, he didn't come in; he was waiting outside for me when I came out to phone you.' Dee smiled wryly. 'Unfortunately, so was Conor.'
'God, I'd say that was an interesting conversation.'
'It was.'
'Go on,' Lisa urged.
Dee noticed that Sam had stopped painting and she shook her head. 'I think it's somebody's bedtime. Do you want to wait and I'll make us some tea?'
Lisa shook her head. 'Sorry, I can't, I promised Ger I'd meet him. He's a bit narky with me because I haven't seen him all weekend.'
'How come?'
'I was just busy,' Lisa said vaguely as she gathered up her papers and bag. 'Right, I'll check out Yvonne's references tomorrow and you know I have another interview on Thursday and one on Friday.'
'No problem, it's just Wednesdays that I can't do.' Dee walked her to the door.
'Are you looking forward to your first day in the studio?' Lisa asked.
'I'm nervous but yes, I'm excited too.'
'You'll be great. And I don't want you worrying about Sam, I'll have him glued to my side.'
Dee smiled gratefully. 'He seems absolutely fine again but it doesn't stop me worrying.'
'Of course it doesn't, he's your son.'
After Dee had waved her off she went back into the kitchen and smiled at Sam.
'Now, sir, how about some tea?'
'Is there any of your pizza left?' he asked.
'Yes, I kept you some, is that what you would like?'
He nodded. 'Yes, please.'
'Okay, then. Why don't you go and wash your hands and I'll clean up here?' She bent to help Sam remove his painting shirt and he trotted off to the bathroom, whistling tunelessly.
Dee smiled as she cleaned down the table. It was such a relief to see him behaving normally and looking so much healthier than he had on Friday. In one way it was a relief but in another it just frightened her that something so random, so sudden and so violent could attack her little boy. It made her feel vulnerable and powerless and more determined than ever to keep her son safe from everyone and everything.
Neil still hadn't been in touch about arranging for her to talk to someone who had witnessed his epiphany and that made her a little nervous. She saw the clothes, the car, she heard his words, but she still couldn't risk believing in him. She needed to hear his story from someone else.
She tidied away the painting materials, turned the oven on and put the remainder of yesterday's pizza in to re-heat. She put on the kettle to make some tea and poured milk into a plastic mug for Sam. She was just pouring the water into the teapot when Sam skipped back into the room and clambered up on a chair at the kitchen table.
'Is Conor coming over?' he asked.
Dee set his mug down in front of him and went to fetch two plates. 'The vet is coming to see a sick cow but he said he should be here by seven.'
'Which cow?' Sam asked anxiously.
'He didn't say.'
'I bet it's Darth Vader, he's always getting sick.'
Dee suppressed a smile. Sam had insisted that all the cows should have names and Conor had finally agreed as long as they weren't girly names like Buttercup and Marigold.
'As if!' Sam had looked at him in shocked disgust.
'Will I have time to play with Conor?' Sam was saying now.
'I tell you what, why don't you get ready for bed as soon as we finish tea and then you can be all ready to play when he gets here?'
'Great, thanks, Mum.'
Dee served up their food and sat down beside him to eat. 'You like Conor, don't you?'
Sam nodded and smiled through his mouthful of pizza. 'So do you, Mum, don't you?'
She laughed. 'Yes I do.'
'He's your boyfriend,' he said, with a shy grin.
'I suppose he is,' she agreed, amused at his embarrassment. 'Is that okay?'
His head bobbed up and down enthusiastically. 'I like him. He'd be a great daddy, wouldn't he?'
Dee gulped. 'Yes, I suppose he would.'
Sam chewed thoughtfully for a moment. 'Do you think he'd like to be my daddy?'
'Oh, sweetheart, it doesn't work like that.'
Sam watched her steadily. 'Why not?'
Dee looked away. 'It's just not that simple.'
He stuck his chin out stubbornly, looking, ironically, like his father. 'Why not? If Conor wants to be my daddy and I want him to be my daddy, why can't it be?'<
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'You're too young to understand,' she said, annoyed with herself for using this pathetic cop-out. 'Eat your food,' she added.
Sam glowered at her and quickly finishing her own meal, Dee went to the sink and started to scrub the oven tray. She hated it when Sam asked awkward questions and she hated that reproachful look he gave her when she couldn't or wouldn't answer his questions. As she dried the tray and slid it back into the oven, there was a rap on the back door and, with a nervous glance at her son, she went to answer it.
'Conor! You're early.'
He shook the rain off like a dog and came inside, bending to tug off his mucky boots. 'Yeah, the vet got out earlier than he thought he would.'
'Hey, Conor!' Sam was down from the table and hurling himself at Conor. 'How's the cow? Is it Darth Vader again?'
Conor steadied himself and grinned down at the little boy. 'It is, but he's going to be fine.'
'Coffee? Tea?' Dee offered.
'I'd prefer a beer,' Conor admitted, stretching. 'God, it's been a tough day.'
Dee fetched a bottle of lager from the fridge and handed it to him. 'Sam, why don't you get ready for bed and then you can come back down and play for a while?'
'I want Conor to come up with me.'
'No, sweetheart, Conor's having his beer.'
'No, that's okay.' Conor took a drink and then set the bottle down on the counter. 'Come on, champ, let's go.'
Dee went to follow but Sam stopped her. 'No, Mum, you stay here.'
Dee managed a weak grin. 'Oh, right, I know when I'm not wanted.'
Conor gave her an apologetic smile and followed Sam upstairs. Dee abandoned her tea and went back to the fridge to fetch another beer.
God only knew what the conversation was going to be like upstairs and if Sam carried on with the whole daddy business, she'd just want to curl up and die. Conor might even think she'd put him up to it! She took a gulp of her beer and crept into the hall to see if she could hear anything. Not surprisingly, given the thickness of the walls in the old house, she could only hear the occasional shriek of laughter from Sam. Still, that in itself was a good thing, she decided, as she went back into the kitchen and cleared away the remnants of their tea. If they were having a deep, intense conversation, then her son would hardly be giggling and laughing.
The kitchen was clean and tidy and she had almost finished her beer when they eventually arrived back down. She glanced nervously from one to the other but could read nothing from their expressions.
'Let's play snakes and ladders,' Sam said, pulling a box from the shelf under the television and sitting down on the rug.
'Conor might not want to play,' Dee started.
'No, I'd like to.' Conor, having rescued his beer, sat down on the rug beside the child, leaned his back against the sofa, and stretched out his long legs.
Dee looked down at their two heads bent over the game and felt a twinge of envy. 'Can I play?'
Sam grinned up at her. 'Of course you can, Mum, you can be yellow.'
She sat down beside them and Conor turned his head to smile at her. 'How are you?' he murmured.
She leaned across to kiss him. 'Fine.'
'Conor, you go first,' Sam ordered, 'you're blue.'
'Okay, then.' Conor shook the dice in his hand and threw them.
Sam poured over them, trying to add them up. 'Five!' he said, victorious.
'That's right, Sam, very good.' Dee smiled at him. 'Is it my turn?'
'No, me first, then you. I'm green.' He shook the dice and threw.
'That's eight, sweetheart,' Dee told him, and he moved his counter along. 'Right, my turn and watch out because I'm feeling lucky tonight.' She threw the dice. 'Double six! What did I tell you?'
'No!' Sam screamed, bouncing around on the rug, 'I'm going to win.'
'We'll see about that,' she replied.
'My God, you two are very competitive,' Conor said mildly, 'but I have to tell you, neither of you have a hope.'
They played three games, Dee and Conor playing skilfully to ensure Sam won two of them. 'Right, mister, that's enough,' Dee said, glancing at the clock, 'it's bedtime.'
'Conor, will you read me a story?' Sam asked, smiling sweetly up at him.
'Sure, but wouldn't you prefer your Mum to do it? She's much better than me.'
'He's fed up with me,' Dee said, grabbing Sam and tickling him. 'One story only, okay?'
He nodded, still giggling, and threw his arms around her.
Dee hugged him close. 'I'll be up to tuck you in before you go asleep.'
Conor pulled him up on to his shoulders and headed for the door. 'Duck!' he warned, as he always did, and bending his head and giggling, Sam said, 'Quack.'
Dee felt unexpected tears in her eyes as she listened to their noisy progress across the hall and up the stairs. They seemed like any normal father and son and either Conor enjoyed their time together or he was a damned good actor. She tried to imagine Neil horseplaying with Sam, the three of them playing games together or Neil taking him for bath time, but she couldn't. Probably because she had never seen Neil with children and didn't even know if he had ever hoped to be a father. It was something that had never come up in conversation during the whole of their relationship; their main priority had been to have fun.
Dee guessed that if they had discussed it she would have been the one to say she definitely didn't want children. After the childhood she'd had, the misery she'd gone through when her mother died, and the distant relationship she'd had since with her father in this bleak, heartless house, she couldn't imagine being a parent herself. She shivered as she remembered how close she'd come to having Sam aborted. It really didn't bear thinking about.
'He's asking for you.'
Dee jumped.
'Sorry.' Conor put his arms around her and pulled her close. 'You were miles away. What were you thinking about?'
'Just daydreaming. Back in a minute.' Kissing him lightly on the lips, she slipped out of his embrace and went upstairs to her son. He was cuddled up under the covers but two eyes shone out at her.
'I had a nice time today, Mum.'
She sat down beside him. 'Good.'
'I wish Conor lived here, then I could play with him all of the time.'
'Who'd look after the cows if he was here all of the time?'
Sam frowned. 'I forgot about them.' Then his face brightened. 'I know, we can go and live there.'
'And what about Lisa and Happy Days?'
He shrugged. 'I could come each morning just like the other kids.'
She laughed and bent over to kiss him. 'Sleep, sweetheart, it's late.'
'It would be cool to live on a farm,' he mumbled, nestling down under the covers, his eyes already closing. 'I could help Conor, he'd like that.'
'Goodnight, Sam, love you.'
'Love you too.'
She closed the door and went back downstairs, shaking her head at her son's words. She hoped he'd have forgotten this business by morning; the last thing she wanted was him taking his great idea directly to Conor.
'What's wrong?' Conor asked when she came back into the kitchen frowning.
'Nothing.'
He stood up and put his arms around her. 'You're not still worrying about Sam, I hope; he's absolutely fine again.'
Dee moved away, irritated. 'I'll always worry about him, he's my son.'
'I understand that but—'
'You don't understand, you couldn't.'
His smile disappeared instantly. 'No, I suppose not.'
'I'm sorry for snapping, Conor,' she said tiredly, flopping down on to the sofa, 'but it's something that's very hard to understand unless you've experienced it. I was just thinking when you were upstairs that I never thought I'd have children. I didn't particularly want any but now I can't imagine life without Sam. In fact, if anything ever happened to him I wouldn't want to go on.'
He sat down beside her and squeezed her hand. 'You shouldn't even be thinking like that.'
'I'm not
, not really, I'm just trying to explain to you how strong the bond is between us.'
His face softened and he traced the curve of her cheek with his finger. 'You don't have to explain that, it's evident in every word, every look and every touch.'
Dee twisted around on the sofa so that she could look up at him. 'Did you have a good childhood, Conor?'
'Yeah, fine.' He shrugged. 'Fairly normal, I'd imagine.'
'Who were you closest to,' she pressed, 'your mother or father?'
'Dad, I suppose, but that's probably because we both loved sport so much. He worked long hours during the week – you know he was a civil servant in the city before he took early retirement and bought Better Books – but at the weekend he came to every match I played and when we weren't outside doing something, we were in front of the box watching some sport or other.'
'Do you think your mum felt excluded?'
'Of course not.'
Dee smiled.
'What?'
She shrugged. 'Nothing.'
'You don't believe me, do you?'
'Sorry, but men don't really notice these things, do they?'
'Don't they?' he mimicked.
Dee bashed him with a cushion. 'No, you don't.'
'My mother has always been perfectly happy looking after as many people as will let her and the last thing she wanted was to stand on the sideline on a cold winter morning watching me playing rugby very badly.'
'Maybe she spent her time looking after other people because you and Ronan were so self-sufficient.'
'Oh, please!' Conor groaned. 'There's less crap up on the farm.'
She made a face. 'It was just an observation.'
'Yes, and if I make observations about your family I'm very quickly told to mind my own business.'
Dee reached out to take his hand. 'Let's stop this now before it descends into a silly argument. I don't want that.'
'Neither do I,' he assured her.
She leaned over and kissed him. 'Would you like another beer?'
He pulled back and looked at his watch. 'I should head back home and keep an eye on that cow.'
It's All About Him Page 19
