‘I know. But what if the school closes?’
‘That could happen anywhere. What if the world ends tomorrow? You get run over by a tractor? You get nits?’ Sally’s voice was gentle. ‘What’s the real issue here, Lucy? It’s not just about the house is it? Is this about Charlie?’
‘Charlie, what’s it got to do with …’ She stopped herself short. It had everything to do with Charlie, well maybe not everything, but quite a lot. ‘Charlie needs space for him and Maisie, a village is a small place.’ Lucy grimaced. If she was honest, she needed to know she had a bolthole, options, if it all went wrong. If she wasn’t wanted. Again.
In the last few months she’d finally managed to get rid of a lot of her insecurities, but there was still that lingering doubt. She’d spent a good chunk of her childhood feeling dispensable, as an adult knowing she had some security had always been important, the most important thing.
‘You don’t need to tell me that.’ Sally rolled her eyes dramatically.
‘What about when Josie comes back, what if it seems a better idea to move?’
‘Then move. But you don’t have to go back to your old place in Birmingham, do you? You don’t have to hang on to the past and look backwards, Lucy. The world’s your oyster.’
‘It’s just a bit of security, having that house.’
‘So keep it. Carry on renting it out.’
Which was what her head kept saying, but some part of her heart was telling her to let go. To be really brave, braver than she’d been in accepting this job. Follow her heart.
But she was scared.
Scared of waking up one day and realising she didn’t belong here. Scared that she should have stayed where she was, the place she understood. Scared that one day the past would catch up with her in this cute village and it would all be wrecked again. The nightmare of her dad leaving them had been replaced with the one of him finding them. A city was big. Anonymous.
‘Either way, it’s only a house, Luce. It’s not like some inherited mansion or something,’ she paused dramatically, ‘is it?’
‘No, it’s your bog standard semi.’ But it was her bog standard semi.
‘Well then, a place here sounds much better.’
‘I know.’
‘It just means you’ve got your security here, not there. And you can always move again. Here, anywhere.’ Sally paused, bottle of wine in hand, Lucy must have let her thoughts flitter across her features. ‘And you might always fall in love with somebody else.’
She gave a grim smile, ignoring the Charlie remark. ‘It’s a good source of income.’ The bottle of wine was still in Sally’s hand. Poised. ‘Are you pouring that or is this some weird mannequin challenge I don’t know about, Sal?’
But it wasn’t just about an income, security now. It was a decision. A step. It was letting go of her anchor.
Sally topped up their glasses. ‘Don’t stress about it. You’ll know, when the time’s right, you’ll know. Maisie likes you, doesn’t she?’ She tipped her head on one side and smiled. ‘She was in the surgery yesterday, talking about how she wished she could live with you all the time, instead of with Charlie who always says no.’
Lucy smiled back. ‘I like her too. She might go off me now I have my teacher hat back on though.’ It was hard not to fall in love with Charlie’s curly haired daughter, although she wasn’t always quite the angel she appeared – with her halo of soft auburn curls. They’d had a good summer, the three of them, but it was hard. She wasn’t Maisie’s mother, she didn’t want to get too close to her. A part of her held back.
‘What if Josie doesn’t come back? You know, says she can live with Charlie permanently.’ Sally was offering the other option.
She wasn’t ready to be a mother, she didn’t know how to be a mother. ‘Oh don’t be silly, she’s Maisie’s mum, of course she’ll come back.’ Then where would that leave her? But worse, what if Josie started laying down the law again, made it hard for Charlie to see his daughter?
Josie had taken Maisie away from Charlie once, she could do it again. And if a DNA test proved that Maisie wasn’t his, well, it didn’t bear thinking about. A hard lump formed in Lucy’s throat at the thought of him having to suffer again. Although she knew he’d fight. But was the law on his side?
Charlie had told her it was over between him and Josie, and she believed him. But who knew what would happen if it came to the crunch? If Josie insisted he had to choose between seeing his daughter, and seeing her? She’d have no choice, she’d do whatever she could to make sure he saw Maisie. No way would she ever want the little girl to grow up without her dad, like she’d had to.
They’d both held back since the start of term, Maisie was the important thing, Charlie’s priority now, and however much Lucy had fallen for the gorgeous vet she knew she couldn’t jeopardise that.
‘Pour the wine Sal, then seeing as it was your idea you can help me wash Pork-chop. He can’t go into school smelling of chicken poo.’
***
The Ofsted inspector stepped neatly round Pork-chop and squatted down next to Harry, who was clutching a small box.
‘Now, young man, who do we have here?’
‘Mario.’
Lucy’s heart sank, and she looked at Jill in alarm. Harry’s hamster Mario had sadly died in the spring and as far as she knew had been buried. Surely not? No, it was impossible, Harry couldn’t have dug him up. Could he? She edged closer. He was opening the box, the inspector was peering in. He put his hand in, and pulled out … a hamster treat, followed by a picture, and a tuft of fluff.
‘My dad said we had to bury him, but we made him a mim, mimo, mimor thing to remember him by.’
‘A memorial! How wonderful, what a clever boy you are.’
‘When the vet came in to school we talked all about him dying, and we drew pictures, and I took this picture home so I could put it in his mimoroyal box.’ Harry nodded wisely. ‘But I don’t look at it much now because I’ve got a lamb.’ He sighed heavily. ‘Well he was a lamb and I had to feed him with a bottle and everything cos his mum dropped dead.’ He shook his head. ‘Sheeps always do that you know. But that lamb is getting real bossy now, we’ll be having him with mint sauce soon I reckon.’
The inspector, looking slightly shocked, got to his feet and moved on to study the children’s books which had been laid out on a table by the window.
***
‘Well.’ Jill shut the door firmly and leant against it. ‘That was an interesting day.’
‘Gawd, I thought he was never going to go, I think Sophie producing her nit comb and telling him what her mam had to say about it was what finally convinced him he’d heard enough.’ Lucy sat down on one of the tiny chairs. ‘Any news on how the rest got on?’
‘No, but Liz Potts was singing so that’s a good sign. They’re in again in the morning, but we should get an update in the afternoon.’ Jill grinned. ‘I did overhear some comment about it being the first time he’s seen a pig in a classroom.’
‘And it will be the last time anybody sees one in my classroom, if it has anything to do with me. Roll on Friday.’ One thing Lucy was sure of was that tonight she would fall into bed exhausted – but at least she’d done her bit. Now all they could do was wait for the verdict.
Chapter 5
Charlie couldn’t help it. He needed to talk to somebody, or he’d be snapping at Maisie and upsetting the very fragile state of her emotions. When he’d met her from school on Wednesday she had been bubbly, excited to tell him about her day, what Roo had done, and how she wanted a ‘pet day’ every day. But then she’d wanted to tell Mummy all about it, and Mummy unfortunately was not in an area with Wi-Fi. The skype tone had echoed out until he’d had to admit defeat, and the hope had died from her face.
Then he’d felt guilty. It had been his fault – even though where Josie was and what she was up to was totally out of his control. In fact everything seemed out of his control right now.
The week had gone downhill f
rom there, when he’d had to explain that Roo wasn’t allowed in school again, and he’d felt a complete heel when ten minutes after collecting her from school on Friday he’d had to leave her with Sally while he dealt with an emergency.
And he wanted to talk to Lucy, desperately. He wanted to chat to her about the house, about the future, but in-between Maisie’s tantrums, his emergency call outs, and her evenings sorting lesson plans they hadn’t been able to grab more than a few minutes alone.
He squeezed his eyes together. He was totally knackered. He’d always loved being a parent, but being a single one was a different kettle of fish altogether. Especially when he was trying to run a veterinary surgery almost single-handedly, and his clients seemed to think he was available 24/7. Thank goodness he had the very capable Sally to help out, or he’d be really stuck.
But, keeping his professional life in order was nothing compared to trying to reassure his daughter that she was the most loved, the most wanted child in the whole wide world. That she meant everything to him. That although she felt like her little world had been tipped upside down, it hadn’t. That everything would be okay. He’d sort it.
He felt totally inadequate though. It had taken him quite some time to cheer her up when he’d finally finished work for the day, and when he’d tucked her into bed she’d been hanging on to a toy as though it was her only friend. When he’d gone up to check on her before leaving, the toy had been replaced with the Border terrier Roo.
‘Should she have the dog in bed?’ Sally who had been called in as emergency babysitter raised an eyebrow when she saw the sleepy child, and Charlie shrugged.
‘Maybe not.’ He sighed. ‘I’m a crap parent, but I know now why so many dads just say yes to everything.’ It had been so much easier when it had been the two of them, him and Josie, and to be honest Maisie had seemed so unflappable. She’d always been a happy child who had been easy to distract from her tantrums and was rarely demanding. Even the terrible twos hadn’t seemed to have a huge impact.
Now she was frightened; clingy in a way he’d not noticed before, and tearful. Maisie had always been the child with a smile on her face, and it worried him that she seemed to be getting more sensitive as each day passed. He had to work out what to do. He’d always thought he was doing okay as a parent, but now he wasn’t sure. Now he was scared he was failing her.
And he had to talk to Lucy about this bloody email.
‘I won’t be long.’
Sally nodded at his slightly curt tone, and her voice was soft. ‘Take your time, Charlie.’
Lucy didn’t answer when he knocked, and when he jiggled the door handle it was locked. He felt like sitting down on the step, closing his eyes and blocking out the world and his problems. Instead, with a weary sigh he headed back down the garden path.
She couldn’t have gone far, and if he didn’t find her, a brisk walk round the village would do him good and maybe clear his head.
The cobbled square was deserted when he strolled across, the shops shut up for the night. Only the sound of his own footsteps broke the stillness of the evening, and as he walked some of the peace leaked into his soul.
By the time he reached the village green he was feeling more positive. He wasn’t a bad dad, he wasn’t doing everything wrong. They just needed a bit more structure in their lives, he needed to reorganise – instead of trying to shoe-horn his daughter into the chaotic and over-busy life he had been leading.
There was a crowd on the benches outside the Taverner’s Arms, making the most of the warm September evening, and he soon spotted Lucy sandwiched between Jill and Timothy.
She waved as he walked across the grass.
‘We’re celebrating. Come and join us.’
‘Sit here young man, my supper calls me and it’s been a long week.’ Timothy stood up, and put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. ‘Goodnight all, thank you as always for all your hard work. See you all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed on Monday morning!’
‘Good Ofsted report then?’ Timothy’s upbeat attitude was infectious, and Charlie felt his spirits lift another notch.
‘Great.’ Lucy had a big grin plastered to her face. ‘Well we won’t get it in writing for a couple of weeks, but everything was pretty positive.’
‘I’ll get a drink, another?’
By the time he got back with his pint, Jill had gone.
‘Something I said?’
Lucy smiled, and put her hand on his knee. ‘She said you looked like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders.’ Her smile slipped. ‘What’s the matter, Charlie? Nothing’s wrong with Maisie, is it?’
‘Maisie’s fine, I left her with Sal.’ He shrugged. ‘Well she was fine when I left.’ He needed to talk to her about the email, his biggest problem, but then again it was all part and parcel of the same issue. If Maisie wasn’t happy with him, if it got to the stage where she didn’t want to spend time with him, then he really was in a mess.
‘Oh?’
‘It’s not working out.’ He knotted his fingers in his hair in frustration.
‘What do you mean?’ Lucy looked alarmed. ‘You can’t …’
‘She’s not eating properly, she didn’t want her tea, only picks at stuff.’
Lucy shifted closer, so that her shoulder rested against his, and it felt like an anchor. Something stable. ‘She eats her lunch at school so she’ll be fine. But, maybe saying no to what you give her is her way of showing you she’s not happy, it’s the only thing she can say no to. The only thing she can control.’
‘She says she doesn’t like it here, she wants her old friends back, she wants her bedroom.’ At the moment the list seemed endless. She wanted everything to be different.
‘Well the bedroom bit is tricky, but why don’t you invite one of her friends here for lunch, a picnic, just a play in the garden?’
‘The surgery doesn’t have a garden,’ he gazed across the green, not really seeing it, ‘and the flat is cramped, that’s why I’ve let her go and visit friends. It’s easier. It’s not helping her make a home here though if I keep letting her go back there, is it?’
‘Nope. She seems more unsettled than unhappy though, she gets on with the kids in her class and once we’re past the initial half hour she’s fine.’
‘She’s not fine at home. She doesn’t cry, she just looks at me, sad as though I’ve let her down.’
‘You’ve not let her down, it’s just different. The summer was a big adventure, something new, but in her head she probably thought that everything would go back to how it was at the end of the holidays.’
‘She was always so happy. That’s the worst bit, she was always smiling, giggly, and now she always looks wary, unsure. Unhappy.’
‘It’s not just the move, Charlie. She’s getting older too, she’s not that chubby toddler any longer. School is more demanding, she’s starting to question things.’
‘You’re telling me. She asked why Roo couldn’t sleep in her room and I couldn’t think of an answer, especially when she said she was lonely.’
Lucy grinned. ‘You let him?’
‘I said he could, in his basket though.’
‘And?’
‘He was on her bed when I checked on her. They were curled up together, the dog was fast asleep, and she was drowsy but clinging on.’
‘She just needs to feel secure, Charlie.’
‘And only the dog does that for her.’ He gave a wry smile.
‘You know that’s not true. But Roo’s a warm, living, breathing friend to fall asleep with. My dog was my best friend when I was her age.’
‘I know.’ He took her warm hand in his, threaded his fingers through her slender ones. ‘I wish it had been easier for you.’ He’d been lucky, the perfect childhood surrounded by animals, fields and two loving parents – unlike Lucy, who he knew had faced disruption and the feeling that she’d been abandoned. She’d got through it, but he didn’t want the same for his own daughter. He wanted her to be happy.
&n
bsp; ‘It was fine.’ Her tone was light. ‘But I get how it feels for Maisie right now.’
‘I know.’ He looked straight into her clear blue eyes. ‘I’m not giving up, but our whole living arrangements, everything, is a mess.’ That much at least had occurred to him, and it was something he had the power to change. ‘I can’t run a busy surgery, and look after a child properly,’ he paused and looked at her, ‘on my own. I feel so bloody guilty every time I have to rush off.’
Lucy smiled. ‘Guilt’s an important part of being a parent.’
He shook his head. ‘Very funny. It’s not fair on either of us though. I don’t want her pushed from pillar to post while I’m working, or left to play on her own.’
‘No,’ she squeezed his hand. ‘She’s too young. When I was her age I hated it.’
‘Is that how it was when you and your mum moved?’
‘It is. I was a couple of years older than Maisie, but I’d been used to having Mum around. I felt,’ she paused, ‘abandoned.’
He stared back bleakly. That was the last thing he wanted Maisie to feel.
‘I mean, it is a bit different for Maisie, because Mum had always been at home for me, she didn’t work after I was born, until …’
‘You moved?’
She nodded. ‘Maisie’s used to you and Josie working, isn’t she? What did you do before?’
‘Her old primary school was part of an academy trust, they had after school clubs, breakfast clubs, it was a big set up. It’s different in Langtry Meadows.’
‘Back at Starbaston, the last school I taught at, they had much the same. But she’s used to doing that, so why not get somebody to help you out? It’s not admitting failure, everybody does it. There must be somebody in the village who’d be glad of a few extra pennies. Somebody with kids?’
Why hadn’t he thought of that? Why had he decided that looking after Maisie was totally his responsibility, that he owed it to her to try and do it all by himself?
Coming Home to Jasmine Cottage Page 5
