by Nicola May
‘But…’ Chris looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath before stumbling on, ‘I’ve realised I’m just not ready to play Happy Families. I never wanted children, Gordy, and from the day I met you, I always made that clear.’
Gordon cleared his throat to try and stop the tears.
‘Fuck me, this is a bolt from the blue.’ He stood up and began pacing.
‘Not really,’ Chris said quietly. ‘It’s taken me ages to find the right moment.’
‘Oh, Pooks.’ Gordon started to ramble. ‘Who would have known that my sister would die, and I love those girls, as much as I loved her, and it’s where we are, and where I have got to stay.’ He paused. ‘And where I want to stay.’
‘I know, but I can’t do it any more. I feel like I’m still so young and am missing out on life. I don’t know who I am any more. I feel trapped.’
Gordon felt a sob get stuck in his throat. ‘What can I do to stop you? Maybe we could have separate houses? We could date again? You will get time to yourself then.’
‘Don’t be silly, Gordy. I’ve thought it through and through, but have decided that I need to get away. I’ve got myself a job with a Canadian airline – long haul this time. I can see a bit more of the world. Feel like I’m doing a bit more for just me.’
Gordon said hoarsely, ‘When?’ He could now feel anger licking at his lips.
‘I leave for Montreal in the morning.’
‘Well, fucking well done you! New job, new life. “I’ll just walk out on my family”, just like that!’
‘But that’s the whole point; they’re not my family and never will be. I know it seems harsh, but I’ve got to be selfish on this one. Please don’t be angry.’
‘But we discussed everything before the girls came to us!’
‘I know, but reality isn’t quite like the fairy-tale, is it?’ Tears began to run down Chris’s cheeks. ‘I will miss you so much, but I have to do this. I don’t want to resent you. I love you and really want you to understand.’
‘What shall I tell the girls?’ Gordon said abruptly.
‘Just say that I’m working on some faraway flights. I will send you all postcards. It would be great if we could just leave us open. I just need to live a little.’
The X – Factor theme suddenly burst out of the surround sound.
‘I’d rather we just ended it,’ Gordon said flatly. ‘At least then I can try and get over you. I don’t want to be sitting here like some mad old Mrs Faversham with cobwebs on my wheelchair at ninety-five.’
‘God, you’re such a drama queen.’ Chris had to laugh.
‘But you’re right, let’s keep it sweet with the girls for a while. And what if I meet someone new?’ Gordy challenged.
‘Well, they’ve got to be better than me or the ghost of Jessica Summers will be haunting you, so it won’t be easy.’
They both managed a smile.
Chris took his partner’s hand. ‘I cannot bear to think of you with anyone else, but if that’s what it takes, because God knows you’ll need the support, then I’ll have to deal with it.’
Gordon took a slurp of wine. ‘I can’t believe you’ve sorted all this behind my back, without any discussion.’
‘It was the only way. I didn’t want to give you any time to persuade me otherwise.’
Gordon pulled Chris towards him. ‘I know just how I can persuade you right now.’
Chris put his hands out to stop him.
‘I’m really sorry, it’s four No’s.’ The voice of Simon Cowell filled the room.
Gordon laughed at the scenario, then promptly burst into tears.
– Chapter Seven –
‘You work too hard, you know,’ Stephen commented to Alana as they finished reviewing a new PR campaign for the first quarter of next year.
‘I enjoy it,’ Alana shrugged, gathering her papers up from the boardroom table in his office.
‘Or are you hiding from the “now”?’ Stephen commented wisely. ‘I think you’re frightened that if you stop, there’ll be nothing for you.’
‘Oh stop it, Stephen! You’re always having a go at me.’
‘I mean, when was the last time you had a relationship? And I mean a proper relationship, not just a drunken scuffle under the covers, like we had a few weeks ago.’
‘I haven’t since Eliska was born,’ Alana replied, feeling hurt that Stephen had completely dismissed what had happened that day as a ‘drunken scuffle’.
‘I thought as much – and that isn’t healthy. You need someone to care for you as much as the next person.’
‘I don’t. I’m fine. I don’t want to muck things up with what I have with Eliska,’ Alana stated.
‘You work so hard you barely have time for her either.’ Stephen wouldn’t let up.
‘Exactly. So how on earth would I fit in a man as well? And you’ve made it quite clear you are not leaving your wife, so what’s your sudden concern anyway?’
‘As hard as you may find it to believe, I really do care for you, Lani.’
Alana cringed. ‘Please don’t call me Lani – that’s what my mother calls me. And even if you did leave your wife, we’re not meant to be together anyway.’
‘One day you’ll have to let down your shield, Alana, and I just hope it doesn’t come crashing down hard, because that’s my fear with you.’
‘I’m fine, Stephen.’ Alana softened, realising how wonderful it was for someone to care for her like he did. But she couldn’t let him in, not now, not ever.
‘Anyway, I must go,’ she said. ‘Inga has walked out on me and Eliska will be waiting at the gates.’
‘So you’re collecting her yourself – that’s lovely for her.’
‘Yes,’ was all Alana could muster.
It was such a shame that Robbie the current agency help couldn’t live in, not only because he was delicious eye candy, but also because Eliska really got on with him. But he had explained that his main responsibility lay with the Denbury Youth Centre. He was literally just doing the after-school child – minding for some extra cash.
Alana gathered her things and went into work mode.
‘Right, if you can sort out a venue for the January press lunch and make sure you get your invoice in before the end of the month, then we’re done.’
‘Alana?’
‘Stephen?’ the feisty businesswoman replied flippantly.
‘I love it when you go all corporate on me.’
Alana had to smile. She glanced at her BlackBerry as an email came in.
‘Only three weeks to Christmas, can you believe it?’ she said. Then: ‘Right – see you at your work bash. Bye, Stephen.’
‘Bye, Lani,’ he said quietly, wishing she could just find it in her bruised heart to tell him the truth.
Dr Delicious was looking more delicious than usual when Mo arrived at the surgery.
‘Mo, are you limping?’ he enquired as she hobbled around to her desk.
‘Not exactly, but my legs are aching. All I did was walk around Denbury Park twice at speed.’
Noah Anderson tried not to laugh. ‘Well good on you! Get through the pain barrier and it can only do you good.’
Thank God he can’t see my chafed thighs, she thought whilst having unchaste thoughts about him chasing her around Denbury Park naked.
Ffion skulked over to her desk.
‘You’re late!’ The screech of Grim Lynn echoed around the surgery.
‘I’m sure she’s got eyes in the back of her bonce!’ Ffion exclaimed as the grim one appeared from her office.
‘What is it this time? The car wouldn’t start?’
Ffion was too hungover to even think of an excuse. Then: ‘Actually no, Lynn. I wouldn’t start!’
Noah and Mo both burst out laughing and Lynn harrumphed back into her office.
‘Why are you in such a jolly mood today anyway, Mo?’
‘Not sure really. I’m still married to a tosser and I’ve got no money to mention, but the Mo Collins Freedom
Collection is underway, as is my weight-loss plan. I went twice round Denbury Park yesterday, I’ll have you know.’
‘Ooh, get you! Good girl. I don’t suppose you’ll want to come to Rosco’s at lunchtime then?’
‘There are two reasons why not, Ffion Jenkins. One: no money. Two: no willpower.’
At one o’clock, Dana approached the customer and her friend, whom Tony had nicknamed ‘Lumpy & Pumpy from the surgery’, at their usual table. The Rosco brothers had given the place a lick of paint and it was looking bright and cheery, with its clean white walls and framed photographs of various models of red Ferraris.
‘Chicken salad and chips for me, please,’ Mo announced.
‘Prawn and mayonnaise on brown for me, thanks,’ Ffi added. Without her friend noticing, she caught Dana’s eye and mouthed, ‘No chips.’
Dana winked and mouthed back, ‘OK.’
‘I could have sworn I ordered chips,’ Mo announced when her tasty-looking salad arrived.
‘No chips on my order pad,’ Dana stated.
‘You must have forgotten, Mo,’ Ffion said, backing up the waitress.
‘Oh, well don’t worry now, love,’ Mo directed at Dana. ‘I’ll be late back to work otherwise.’ She tucked into her salad. ‘How’s the beauty course going anyway?’
‘Loving it!’ Ffion exclaimed. ‘Really looking forward to getting my qualification and being able to work for myself. I’m learning some great make-up tips too.’
‘Good – you are wasted in that surgery. I haven’t heard much mention of the love-life lately either?’
‘I’ve actually been doing my research and have deduced that Denbury houses around ten good-looking men. Now, I’ve already slept with eight of them, we work for one of them and the other one’s my brother – and that wouldn’t be right, now would it?’
Mo nearly choked on a bit of celery.
‘You’re so funny, Ffion. You deserve to meet somebody lovely. But you’re right to be playing the field. At twenty, don’t even think of settling down.’
‘No, I’ll just be lying down at the moment, I will.’ At that moment, Ffion caught Bruno’s eye behind the counter and realised that her count had immediately gone up to eleven.
‘But I wanted GoGo pops, not toast!’ Lily whined.
‘And where’s the chocolate spread?’ Lola asked grumpily.
Gordon ran his hands through his hair.
‘Girls, please be nice to Daddy. I forgot to get milk yesterday. I’m sorry and I know I need to stock the cupboards.’
‘Maybe Daddy Chris can help you today.’ Lily picked up on Gordon’s tiredness.
He tried not to show how upset he was.
‘I told you, darling, Daddy Chris has gone on some long flights so he won’t be back for a while.’
The girls carried on eating their breakfast. It had only been two weeks but Gordon literally ached with missing his partner. It wasn’t just the fun and companionship he longed for, but he also realised just how much Chris had helped him with the girls. It was so difficult to keep all the balls juggling, what with his airline shifts, after-school care and generally running the house. Some of the other parents had been great, helping out with school-runs and having the girls round for tea, but working shifts made it difficult to keep a consistency in the twins’ lives and he knew he would have to reconsider his line of work.
He had to be realistic; face the fact that Chris wasn’t coming back and just get on with it. He had had one quick email to say that his errant partner had arrived in Canada safely – and that was it. Gordon couldn’t believe that after being so very close, Chris could just drop them all like hot potatoes, but maybe that was just his way of coping.
There was no way he was going to let his precious girls down, Gordon resolved. As hard as it was, he would manage and make sure their lives were full of love and laughter, just as his sister had asked him to do.
Thankfully, he now had three days off so he could get the house back in order and spend some quality time with his girls.
‘Daddy?’
‘Yes, Lily?’ Gordon tried to keep the stress out of his voice.
‘I need another cardigan,’ the little girl stated, lifting the arm to show the chocolate milk she’d just put her arm in.
‘Oh, Jeez!’ Gordon put his hand to his forehead. ‘I haven’t got the other one clean. Come here, I’ll wipe it with a damp cloth.’
‘No!’ the naughty little brunette shouted. ‘It will be all wet then!’
‘Stop being so spoilt,’ Lola piped up. ‘Daddy told you he is doing the washing today. You can have another one tomorrow.’
‘I miss Daddy Chris,’ Lily screeched, running to her room and throwing herself face down on her bed.
‘So do I,’ Gordon whispered under his breath.
Lola got down off her chair, climbed on his lap and hugged him tightly.
‘The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain – repeat after me.’ Mrs Burrows stood in front of Gordon, banging her walking stick to accentuate the vowels.
‘The rain in…’ Gordon faltered. ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Burrows. I can’t do this today.’
‘Very well, dear,’ the old lady said hurriedly. She went towards him and took his hand. He clenched his nostrils shut to avoid her coffee breath.
‘How about we try talking? It is fine to ask for help sometimes if you need it.’ She spoke very gently.
Gordon’s bottom lip wobbled.
‘What’s the matter, love?’ Mrs Burrows then said kindly, in a much more natural voice.
Gordon burst into tears. Being held close to a saggy bosom had never felt so good, and for some reason it opened the floodgates of loss.
‘I miss Chris, my partner, I miss Jessica, my sister, but most of all I miss my mum!’
‘Oh, darling boy. They will all be looking down on you now.’
‘It’s only Jess who’s dead,’ wept Gordon. ‘Chris has gone to “find himself”,’ he inputted bitterly, ‘and my mum has Alzheimer’s. She was only fifty when she got it, and what with that and Jess’s premature demise, Dad couldn’t cope. He headed off to Bangkok of all places, took a Thai bride and now I get a Christmas card once a year if I’m lucky.’
‘Oh you poor love.’ Mrs Burrows held Gordon’s hand as he continued.
‘I see Mum once a month but she never recognises me and the guilt I feel at leaving her in that home causes me such pain, but I know I could never give her the care she needs.’ He stopped and took a deep breath. ‘And now I have those two precious angels to look after and I feel like I’m letting them down.’
‘Fiddlesticks are you letting them down! The photos you show me, the way you talk about them – they seem very happy and well-balanced little girls to me.’
Gordon managed a weak smile. ‘Thank you, Mrs Burrows.’ He blew his nose. ‘As you know, I work shifts as a flight attendant, and when Chris was around we managed the work/child balance – but now it’s impossible. I vowed I would never get extra help. I would hate for Jessica to think that I couldn’t cope.’
‘Gordon – like I said, there’s nothing wrong with asking for help. Get someone in to assist with the shopping and housework at least. Then, when you are at home with the girls you will have time for them solely. They will think no more or less of you for doing that. They’re only six. Too young to judge. All they know is their infinite love for you. Yes, Chris leaving is unsettling but kids adapt, Gordon. A lot of love and a bit of discipline go a long way, so don’t you worry.’
Gordon felt comforted as the wise old lady went on, ‘As for your mum, I am so sorry to hear that. Alzheimer’s is a terrible disease, but she’s still here in flesh and blood, so go and see her and give her a big cuddle soon. Whatever happens, you’re still her little boy.’
Gordon began to sob again. Mrs Burrows cradled him in her arms, offering the comfort he had needed so badly since Chris had left.
‘I’m always here too, as a voice coach or not. In fact, stop wasting your time tr
ying to speak the blooming Queen’s English and get down to Tesco’s now!’
Chris sat up, wiped away his tears and blew his nose loudly.
‘Thanks, Mrs Burrows.’ He kissed her on the cheek.
‘Esme,’ she interrupted. ‘And think nothing of it. You’ve got my phone number. My arthritis holds me up on physical chores, but if you ever need a listening ear, come and see me anytime – and I’d love to meet those beautiful girls of yours.’
– Chapter Eight –
Alana was used to the whispering when she pulled up at the school gates. She could imagine the small-minded chatter about losing her au pair. But she would show them that she could be a good mother, as well as have a career.
Inga smiled at her ex-boss as she got out of her car. She was actually feeling quite smug that Preachy Knickers had asked her to do a couple of school runs for her; also, her evening babysitting had picked up and she was saving madly to try and get herself a deposit to rent a room somewhere.
Mr Chambers appeared at the classroom door, little human animals chattering behind him ready to be released into the wild. He saw Joan and gave her a big smile. Without making it obvious, he scratched his head and pointed to Skye. Joan raised her eyebrows and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’
Mo power-walked up the school path.
‘Well done you!’ Joan exclaimed. ‘Up for once round the park after tea?’
‘I better had,’ Mo smiled. ‘I had three Hobnobs this afternoon.’
‘Oh, Mo.’
‘Oh, nothing,’ Mo told her. ‘I’m all up for getting fit and healthy, but I don’t think I can bear all that pushing and prodding food around the plate like the joylessly thin do.’
Joan laughed out loud. ‘Well it’s nice to see you smiling anyway. Right – here they all come, clear a space.’ Skye, Kent and Clark came charging towards their mum.
‘You’d better check Rosie’s hair,’ she added in a whisper. ‘Skye’s got nits again!’ She wanted to warn her friend.
‘OK, no worries; if she’s caught them I’ll make sure she cuddles up to her father’s remaining strands before I shampoo her.’
‘Mo, that’s not very kind.’
