by Nancy Barone
She smiled. ‘I know. I can’t wait to come home and see how it goes.’
‘You’ll be fine, Yola.’
‘Nat?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I can’t begin to express my gratitude for all you’ve done for me and the girls.’
‘We’re family, Yola,’ I whispered.
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘But nobody does family better than you. Will you be there, by my side?’
‘Of course.’
She nodded as she swiped a tear and my heartstrings twitched.
‘Hurry home, Yola.’
She smiled. ‘I’ll be on the first plane back.’
‘What about your show?’
‘Screw the show. My family is more important. Besides, we have insurance for stuff like this.’
I grinned. ‘Okay, then. We’ll be waiting.’
She blew me a kiss and her face faded to black.
‘Nat?’ came Shane’s voice from behind me. ‘I wanted to thank you, from the bottom of my heart for understanding and giving me the benefit of the doubt.’
I stood there, trying to take in all that had happened, trying to remember all the things he’d said, to see if there had been any indications, any clues or slips anywhere. And then, his words came back to me. I did it for love. So he hadn’t come for the love of a woman. He had come for his daughters. But even so, how would I personally ever be able to trust him again after this charade that had lasted all summer, after all his lies?
‘I can’t be anywhere near you, uhm… Shane,’ I whispered, turned, and ran all the way home.
Once inside, I swiped my eyes and went in to check on Mum.
She was in her chair, taking her morning nap, lightly snoring as usual. I tucked the coverlet around her and finally crept up to my own room to have a jolly good sob before the girls got up and I’d have to pretend everything was okay.
*
The next morning I woke up feeling like an empty hot water bottle, absolutely drained dry. After a night of crying and tossing, I slowly crawled out of bed and into the shower, which did absolutely nothing to wash away the feeling of utter betrayal clinging to me. I tried to put myself in Shane’s shoes. But I wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
When I went downstairs about ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. It was Shane. His eyes were red and his voice raw.
‘I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye,’ he simply said, his eyes not quite meeting mine.
I sighed, and it took me all the energy I had. ‘I need no more explanations, Shane,’ I said, the new name sounding alien. ‘I’ll have Yolanda call you when she flies in.’
‘Nat…’
‘No. You sort yourselves out. And please don’t call me.’
His shoulders slumped. ‘As you wish. If you change your mind, I’ll be at a friend’s down the coast in Little Kettering.’
‘Goodbye, Shane,’ I whispered and closed the door on my very own heart.
What had been my love, my family, those who needed me, now no longer did. My own girls were grown up, Yolanda would soon be back for her kids, and now even their father was on the scene. I was superfluous to say the least. So maybe it really was finally time for me to start thinking about my own life and my own little dreams.
15
The Homecoming
A few days later Lizzie, Sarah and I piled the kids and their things into my car for the five-minute drive to their own home. Yolanda was due in less than an hour. Once there, the girls shot to their rooms and I busied myself with airing the downstairs areas.
Lizzie kept stealing me worried glances. I smiled at her and shook my head. ‘It’ll be all right, Lizzie. Yolanda and Shane will sort it out.’
‘I’m sure they will, Mum. It’s you I’m worried about.’
‘Me?’ I echoed.
‘Mum – we’d all have to be blind to not see that you have feelings for him.’
I shrugged. ‘Maybe I had feelings for Connor. I have no idea who this bloke is.’
‘Maybe, if you just gave him a chance, Mum?’
‘Sweetheart, Shane Wright has a lot on his plate now. He certainly doesn’t need any more complications in his life. Besides, there was nothing between us.’
‘But there still could be, no?’
I thought about it. ‘No, Lizzie. There’s no room in a relationship of any kind, for lies.’
‘But he tried to tell you, didn’t he?’
‘Tried is not enough, Lizzie.’
And then we heard the sound of a car door slamming shut in the drive. ‘That’s Aunt Yolanda’s taxi. No more of this in front of her. This is none of her business, okay?’
Lizzie went to say something, but her mouth snapped shut at the look on my face. She nodded.
‘Good girl.’
‘Mummy, Mummy, Mummyyyy’ the girls hollered as they flew down the stairs and flung the front door open. They threw their arms around Yolanda who grabbed them fiercely. After a seven-hour flight, she still managed to look amazing in a white trouser suit.
‘Oh, my beautiful, beautiful girls! I’ve missed you so much!’ she cried as tears sprung from her eyes and I had one or two to wipe away myself.
After a long moment, she looked up at me. ‘Thanks you so much, Nat. How were they?’
‘Absolute gems,’ I assured her.
‘Mummy, did you bring us any presents?’ Amy asked.
‘Oh yes, my darlings! I have lots and lots of presents for you in those two suitcases! The purple one’s for you, Amy, and the pink one is for you, Zoe.’
‘Yayyy, thank you, Mummyyyy!’ they shouted, and soon it was like a piñata had burst in the room as shreds of tissue paper flew into the air and rained back down on the two happiest girls I’d ever seen.
God willing, Yolanda was back to stay, at least for a while. That would be enough time to get to know them again, while introducing the idea of Shane Wright as their real father.
*
After a quick Indian take-away, Lizzie drove back to Truro and Yolanda went upstairs with the girls to read them a bedtime story while I did the washing up. Yolanda would have a lot of questions when she came back downstairs. I only wished I had the answers.
‘So,’ she said as she came into the kitchen. ‘What a crazy story, huh?’
Crazy was an understatement. I finished drying the last glass, put it away and filled the kettle as Yolanda sat back, finally relaxing.
I pulled out the mugs, coffee and sugar. And almost cried with nostalgia when I remembered that I’d given Shane salt instead of sugar in his coffee, one day, a million years ago.
‘Tell me everything from the beginning,’ she urged me.
So I did. Minus how he’d agreed to be my public toy boy to help me keep my job. And minus my attraction to him that was only mildly reciprocated while awaiting for the real deal, i.e. her, the mother of his children.
‘Now it’s your turn,’ I said as we drank from our mugs.
She plonked hers down on the table with a thud and rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, God, where to start? About the Temple Bar, you know. Imagine my shock when I found out I was pregnant. I was a horrible wife and I’m a horrible mother,’ she blurted, reaching for a napkin to wipe her eyes.
‘Don’t say that,’ I offered. ‘You’re just busy. Very busy.’
She looked up. ‘You know what Bill said to me the other day after my Zoom chat with the kids? He said, “You see more of your crew than you do your own girls.” And it hurt like hell, Nat – because it’s true. And you know why that is?’
I shook my head. Offering my opinion, that she was too ambitious for her own good seemed an unkind thing to say, especially after this mega brick had fallen on her head. Well, our heads, truth be told.
She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. ‘Because I’ve always known Shane was the father. And I’ve been so racked with guilt all these years!’
‘Did you ever think of confessing to Piers?’
She snorted. ‘Why do you think he le
ft me, Nat?’
‘Piers… knew?’
‘Oh, he was no idiot. I was away for at least six weeks. All he had to do was do the math.’
I stared at her. ‘Yola… but you never told me any of this – I could have been there for you.’
She shrugged, blowing her nose. ‘It wouldn’t have changed anything, Nat. Piers was probably sick of my crazy hours and travelling anyway. But it helped me to forget. It still does.’
I put an arm around her shoulder. ‘Yola, I had no idea, I’m so sorry.’
She looked up at me. ‘I know you think I am a terrible mother and I deserve it. But all these years I was just trying to run away from the guilt. Certainly not my girls. I love them to pieces and have made the decision to be a more hands-on mother. I’m going to finally stop and stay home for a bit. I’ll write that next book, and learn to be a proper mum.’
My hand flew to my heart. ‘Oh, Yolanda, you don’t know how happy the girls will be!’
She dried her eyes. ‘But I’ll need your support, Nat.’
‘Of course.’
‘Especially now that Shane is in our lives. The girls wouldn’t stop going on about him.’
‘W-what are you going to do about him?’ I asked her.
She leaned forward and took my hand. ‘Is he a good man? Besides the lie?’
I hesitated. ‘He loves the girls and wants to be a good father for them.’ Which was true. The fact that he had stepped all over me to do so was only a side effect.
‘So you think he would be good for them?’
I thought about all the laughs and the horsing around and the picnics on the beach and the tree house and how they gravitated around him. ‘Yes. Shane is perfect for them.’
For me, not so much. But he’d be perfect for Yolanda, and the realisation that he would think so too had hit me all too soon.
Nostalgia of what could have been, and what was going to become of his new family had my insides in a twist. I realised that I had gone from being the driving force of the family to the odd one out. Now that Yolanda was back, she wouldn’t need me as much. Nor would the girls. And it was only right that they all made up for lost time.
‘Okay. Because I want to meet him tomorrow.’
‘He’s gone to stay in Little Kettering,’ I informed her.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘We exchanged phone numbers. He’s at Mitchell’s, an old university buddy. I’ve invited Shane over tomorrow morning for a cup of coffee and a chat on how to do this. And if we fit, we’ll see what’s what, and take one day at a time.’
I exhaled. It had already begun. ‘I’m going home now, Yolanda. I think I will step back for a few days. You all need time as a family to sort this out among yourselves.’
She got up and hugged me. She rarely hugged me. ‘I understand. Thanks for your help, Nat. I don’t know how I would’ve managed any of this without you.’
‘You’d have managed, Yolanda,’ I said. She always did.
*
The next few weeks went by in an absolute blur. Hannah Williams had lined up a series of viewings for The Mausoleum and within the week I received a generous offer from the very first family that had viewed it.
Without wasting a minute, I made my own generous offer on Lavender Cottage, which was accepted. Serendipity trying to get back into my good books?
It took me and a crew of movers another week to pack up my stuff alongside Mum’s few belongings. She watched me come and go, most of the time amused, if a little confused.
‘It’s all right, Mum. We’re finally moving out of this place,’ I said, sitting on the arm of her recliner. Everything else that Neil had left behind I had donated to charity, and oh what a feeling of liberation that had given me!
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
I bent down and kissed her paper-thin cheek. ‘We’re finally going home, Mum.’
‘About time. I hate this old folks’ home,’ she sentenced.
I laughed and patted her hand. ‘From now on, Mum, I’m going to live next door to you.’
‘Okay, but no smothering me,’ she said.
I beamed at her. ‘No smothering. I promise.’
After a lunch of tomato soup and hot rolls, I went to Lavender Cottage for another look. Although it needed massive renovating, I wasn’t in the least bit fazed. The peeling wallpaper and the scuffed floorboards could be sorted. All the house needed was new plumbing, new electrics and a facelift. Nothing, compared to what I’d been through. For the first time in my life, I was finally home. The heartache due to losing Connor, a man who had never actually existed, would have to wait.
I was weeks away from exchanging contracts with both my buyers and my seller, but Sarah had already found a delightful little flat in Truro, so Lizzie, Liam and I helped her move her things in.
Personally, I had only got as far as moving out of The Mausoleum, spring-cleaning Mum’s cottage and moving my stuff into my old bedroom up in the eaves. It was so small that I still don’t know how Yolanda and I managed to get twin beds in there without sleeping on top of each other.
Sleeping with Yolanda had been a nightmare. She had always talked and talked, well into the night. Good luck to Shane with that. He’d discover her idiosyncrasies for himself now.
I wondered what was going on at Yolanda’s place that very moment. No doubt she and Shane were hammering out the details of their new situation and making plans for the future. Sorting out a family routine and setting ground rules. I was determined to stay out of their lives and trudge on with my own. I, too, was making a brand-new start. And my own decisions.
And speaking of, the very next day I took the train into London to tell Octavia that I wouldn’t be doing any more toy boy articles.
When she shook her head and sucked air in through her teeth, I made another flash decision before she could say anything.
‘And I’m handing in my resignation. Effective immediately.’
To which she simply answered. ‘Suit yourself. Those articles were your meal ticket.’
‘I don’t need a meal ticket, Octavia,’ I replied. ‘I’m going freelance. Good luck with Lady.’ And as I got up from my chair, warm, tingly tendrils of pride zapped across my skin and I exhaled in relief. Finally! I was getting my life back.
On my way out, Vera, our Agony Aunt, called out to me. ‘Oh, Nat, we’re going to miss you around here! This letter arrived for you a few weeks ago but we forgot to forward it to you. I’m so sorry. I hope it wasn’t important.’
I looked down at the thick white envelope, which I pocketed with a shrug. Probably one of Octavia’s legal beauties to bind me to the toy boy column. I’d have plenty of time to read it on the train home. And rip it to shreds.
After having said my not-so-teary goodbyes, I took a bus to the train station and bought myself a cupcake to celebrate my freedom. Who cared if I didn’t find anything immediately. I had enough to tide me over while I searched for a new job. Financial independence was now, finally, the least of my worries. Right now I had other things to think about, such as my mother and getting Lavender Cottage renovated.
Once settled in my seat, I ripped the envelope open to stare at Shane’s bold writing as my heart began to pound inside my temples.
Dearest Nat,
This is the sixteenth draft of this letter. I know because I counted them all.
Never has telling the truth been an issue for me, but this time I find it almost impossible and I wish I could skip this part completely and save you the disappointment. But I owe it to you, my dear friend.
Ever since I arrived in Wyllow Cove I have been met with nothing but kindness and trust, and it hurts me to have betrayed that trust, especially yours as I find myself involved in your wonderful household and family almost as if it were my own.
But I had no choice but to lie to you.
Many times I tried to tell you, and you will recall my moments of quiet when I silently willed myself to find the courage to tell you. But every time I tried, e
ither something else came up or I just lost my courage.
So, here it is Nat. I lied about two things – my name, which is Shane Wright. And I lied about the reason why I came to Wyllow Cove, or so to speak. I told you I had come for love. That much is true. I came to fall in love.
Many years ago, when I was a uni student in Dublin, I met a woman at Temple Bar and took her to my place. The next morning we said our goodbyes and I never saw her again – until I saw her face on the back of one of my mother’s new cookbooks. And then she appeared on my TV screen in a cooking show. Even then, I thought nothing of it, but when, during her spring special, she enlisted the help of her daughters to bake some cookies, all it took was one look, and I immediately knew. Those two little girls were the photocopies of my own nieces Marian and Emilia. They were my own flesh and blood.
That moment split my life into two. The day before I’d been playing pool and surfing with my friends and the next – I couldn’t sleep. All I could do was trawl the internet for as much information on Yolanda as I could. And all I could think of was Amy and Zoe – of the man they called Daddy instead of me, and whether he loved them as his own. And I cursed all the years spent without being able to watch them grow, change their nappies, witness their very first steps and hear their first words and take them to their first day of school.
So the very next day, without telling anyone or having even a trace of a plan, I got into my car and took the ferry to England. It took me forever to get to Wyllow Cove, and still I had no plan. How do you show up at someone’s home with this kind of news? And then, while looking for a place to stay, I came across your ad in the paper. I knew who you were because I’d done my due diligence. But I didn’t know the girls would be coming to stay with you, and oh, Nat – when I first saw them, I wanted to hug them to me and hold them forever and tell them I was their daddy. It took me all the restraint I could find to avoid dropping this bomb on you all that very day.
And I had to be absolutely certain, so I took a strand of the girls’ hair and had their DNA tested. There is no doubt that I am their father.
