‘I haven’t finished! You asked me to think about my priorities. For the last eight years or so, Prime PR has been my life. It’s been my number-one priority, and I’ve more than shown that through the accounts I’ve won and the millions in revenue I’ve generated. My priorities have now changed. I have a daughter, her fiancé and a grandson who need me and, if I’m honest, I need them too. Holiday or the highway? It’s a no-brainer. I’ll take the highway. I’ll put that in writing, hand over my laptop and leave the building. Thanks for being so supportive.’
Paul’s face was purple. I half-expected steam to come out of his ears, like a cartoon character. Sabina, on the other hand, looked as if she was having to stop herself from leaping up and cheering.
‘I take it you’re resigning with immediate effect?’ she said, eyes twinkling.
‘She can’t,’ Paul yelled. ‘She’s on three months’ notice. She has to work it.’
Sabina nodded. ‘Contractually, she does. But given that she mentioned her potential case for constructive dismissal…’
‘What? She never mentioned that.’
Sabina frowned. ‘Sorry, Clare, am I having a senior moment and getting my wires crossed with a different meeting? You did just say that you felt you had been given no choice but to tender your resignation, given the refusal of your manager to consider any other options for your request, didn’t you?’
I nodded. ‘That’s right. I think a tribunal would be very interested in the sex-discrimination discussion too…’
‘Well, that went well,’ I said to Sabina, after Paul stormed out of the room, slamming the door. ‘Thank you for doing that. I hope you won’t be in trouble.’
She smiled and shook her head. ‘I got offered a new job on Friday. I’m just waiting for the contract to come through, then I’ll be handing in my notice too.’
‘Congratulations!’
‘Thanks. I can’t wait to get away from Paul. Everyone else at Prime is lovely, but most of my challenging cases have been because of him. Mind you, it’s all been great employment-law experience!’ She gathered her papers together and stood up. ‘I hate to do this, but I’m afraid I need to play Big Brother and stand over you whilst you write your resignation to make sure you don’t acquire any of Prime’s intellectual property.’
‘I understand. Thanks for everything. I can’t quite believe I’m leaving. It wasn’t the outcome I expected, but it feels right.’
‘What will you do afterwards?’ she asked, as we walked back to my hot desk.
‘I don’t know. I’ve been saving for a house deposit for years so I’m financially sound. My focus can therefore be purely on my family for however long they need me, without worrying about money.’
‘Then, I’d say make the most of your time off and really think about what you want out of life. I reckon you’d be amazing at running your own business.’
‘Really?’
‘I’ve always thought that. My mum runs a catering business and I see a lot of her qualities in you. You’re passionate, driven, focused, organised, great with people and brilliant at self-promotion. You’d be an amazing success.’
It wasn’t something I’d ever considered, but I liked the idea. I liked the idea a lot. ‘Maybe I will.’
She smiled. ‘I bet you will. But enjoy your family for now. It’s a lovely story, to be reunited after all these years. I hope Shannon recovers quickly.’
‘So do I, Sabina. So do I.’ I sat down on my chair and fired up my laptop. ‘I guess I’d better write my resignation letter, then.’
Chapter 25
My cheeks burned and tears of frustration dripped onto Luke’s jacket as he screamed, his face bright red and his hands balled into tiny fists, flailing about angrily. It was about 4pm. After saying my goodbyes and leaving the office – clutching my handbag and a carrier bag containing my mug and a few other personal effects – I’d caught the train back to Leeds, picked up my car and driven to Mothercare at the suggestion of Paul’s PA, Margaret. She’d pressed a piece of paper into my hand. ‘I’ve written the essentials on here and the stuff that’s a waste of money. I’ve got five kids and eight grandchildren. If you need any advice, please call me. I’ve written my home number on there too.’ She grabbed me and pulled me into a bear hug. I just hoped that Paul didn’t take out his fury at me on her, poor woman.
‘I’m sorry, Luke,’ I cried. ‘I’m trying. I just can’t seem to…’
‘Are youse okay?’
I twisted around to see Nurse Kelly hovering near the boot of the car. ‘Jesus! Are you a sight for sore eyes.’ I wiped the tears off my cheeks.
A flicker of recognition crossed her face. ‘You’re our little Luke’s nana!’ she said.
‘Yes. And I’m an eejit. He’s coming home with me and I never thought to read the car-seat instructions. I’ve faffed that much, I’ve made him cry.’
‘Aw, divn’t worry. They seem more complicated than they are. Youse’ll soon get the hang of it. How’s aboots I…?’
I stepped back, gratefully. ‘Be my guest.’
She crouched down by the back seat and lifted Luke out of his car seat. ‘Ah! I don’t think he’s crying just because youse couldn’t do the car seat. He’s crying because he’s got a stinky bot. How’s aboots I do it quickly?’
How had I not realised? Great start. I lifted the changing mat I’d just purchased out of the boot and found some wipes, a nappy and a nappy sack. Incredibly, Luke’s cries had stopped. Nurse Kelly was obviously one of those baby whisperers. I wondered if I could bribe her to come home with me and teach me her secrets. Or kidnap her.
After Luke was changed, in ridiculously quick time, she helped me fasten him back into his seat.
‘Firstly, it needs to be the other way round. Aye. That’s it. And you see them clips…?’
Five minutes later, we were on our way.
As soon as I pulled into my parking space at Orion Point, I realised I’d messed up yet again. I had a boot full of baby stuff that would probably take me a few journeys had I been on my own. Problem was, I wasn’t on my own. I couldn’t leave Luke in the car while I traipsed back and forth, and I couldn’t leave him in the apartment either. Bollocks! I was going to have to do at least six journeys with Luke in his car seat, with every journey putting me at greater risk of bumping into Frosty Knickers.
Luke decided to demonstrate exactly how many decibels his cries could reach at 2.37am. My hands shook so much while I tried to mix his formula that I dropped the first bottle. Why was it that a small amount of liquid could multiply exponentially when spilled? I could have sworn that at least 10 pints of formula had covered the cooker, the worktops, the cupboards, the kitchen floor and my PJs. Unravelling an entire kitchen roll, I threw it across the floor and units in an effort to soak up the liquid as I made another. And all the while, Luke screamed. And screamed. And screamed. There was no way on this earth that Frosty Knickers hadn’t heard.
The very next day, I was served with my eviction notice. How had I suddenly become homeless and jobless, with a baby to look after and not the faintest clue how to do it? Jesus wept!
‘Are you absolutely sure about this?’ I said to Ben the following evening.
Ben slammed the boot of my car shut. ‘I’m sure. And I was sure the 786 previous times that you asked me.’
‘It’s a huge thing,’ I protested. ‘He wakes up in the middle of the night and his screams register high on the Richter scale.’
‘Oh, well, in that case…’ Ben opened my boot again.
‘I’m serious, Ben. I know you’d do anything for anyone, but this is seriously above and beyond.’
He shut the boot. ‘I know what I’m letting myself in for, Irish, and I genuinely want to help.’
God knows what I’d done to deserve such a good friend. ‘I promise I’ll find somewhere else for us to live as soon as possible, but th
ank you for now.’
‘There’s no rush.’
‘You won’t be saying that at three in the morning.’
Ben smiled. ‘I mean it. There’s no rush.’
‘I have a thank-you gift for you.’ I reached into the pocket of my jacket. ‘You’re about to rise to the biggest challenge of your life so far. King of the moment, Ben.’
He shook his head. ‘No. You keep him. You’ve packed in the job you love and given up your apartment for a grandchild you never imagined existed. You’re king of the moment, Clare. What you’ve done is nothing short of amazing.’
I pushed the king into his pocket. ‘I’ll be offended if you don’t take him. What you’re doing for us is nothing short of amazing. I mean that, Ben, and you know I’m not generous with the compliments. Or the hugs. But you definitely deserve one of these.’ I wrapped my arms around Ben and squeezed tightly. He squeezed back and, for a brief moment, I found myself closing my eyes and melting into his arms. I didn’t want to let go. I’d never understood why Sarah was so fond of hugging everyone. I’d oblige occasionally when there was good news or she was upset, but I’d never really got it. Perhaps it was because Ma and Da had never hugged me. There’d been no physical displays of affection towards anyone in our family. Of course, Daran had held me, but that had been different. We’d been in love. There had been chemistry and longing. I hadn’t understood the need to hug friends. Clinging onto Ben, I suddenly got it. It felt as if all the stresses of the past month or so were seeping out of my body and into his, making me relax and feel that I wasn’t on my own.
Ben squeezed a bit more tightly and placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head, then suddenly let go. Damn! I’d been enjoying that.
‘I think I can hear Luke,’ he said, looking towards his house.
I cocked my head. ‘I can’t hear anything. He only fell asleep 10 minutes ago. He’ll be dead to the world for ages yet.’
‘I’m sure I heard crying. You’d better check on him anyway. You grab that case and I’ll bring the rest of your stuff in.’
I shrugged but grabbed the case and went inside. Luke was in the dining room, away from the chaos my belongings had brought to the lounge, snuggled in his carrier, lips pouting, eyes flickering, but definitely sound asleep. I knew he wasn’t crying. I wandered back into the dining room and surveyed the mess. Daryl Smithers had issued me an ultimatum: leave at the end of the month and lose my bond for breaching the terms of our rental agreement, or leave within 24 hours and he’d return my bond and the rent I’d paid for February. I didn’t have much choice. I didn’t have time to seek legal advice, although, let’s face it, I probably didn’t have a leg to stand on because I had breached the terms of my rental contract. I didn’t want to deplete my house-deposit savings too much while I was out of work, so I couldn’t risk losing the money. I reluctantly accepted his offer and asked Ben if I could take him up on his kind invitation after all. Ben’s mate Pete (the host of the New Year’s Eve disaster) had generously offered his garage as temporary storage for my bed and a few other bits of furniture, and had sent his brother and dad to collect it all in a van. I got the impression that he’d heard about what Taz had done and this was his way of making up for what had happened at his house while he’d been out of action.
Ben appeared with the last few boxes. ‘Déjà vu,’ he said.
‘Except this time there’s two for the price of one, and no allowance for a kitchen refurb. Not such a great deal.’
‘Kitchen’s already done, thanks to you,’ he said. ‘So the allowance wouldn’t be needed anyway.’
‘I’ll pay you rent.’
He shook his head. ‘There’s no need.’
I planted my hands on my hips. ‘Bollocks! I may not have a regular salary anymore, but I do have money. If you won’t take payment, you might as well put all my crap back in the car ’cos we’ll not be staying.’
‘Okay, okay. Keep your knickers on. We’ll work something out.’
‘Grand. Glad that’s settled. Now, go and earn that rent I’ll be paying you by making me a coffee.’
Ben laughed. ‘Definitely déjà vu!’
We settled into a routine over the next week or so. Ben continued with his day job with the missing-persons charity, but he temporarily stopped his volunteering shifts. How guilty did I feel?
‘We’d better move out, Ben. It’s not fair that you’re changing your life for us.’
‘You once asked me why I didn’t do anything for myself. I said I already was. I get a kick out of helping others and it doesn’t matter what form that takes. Right now, it’s more important to me that I’m here for you and Luke. I want to do this more than I want to do my volunteering and that’s my final word on the subject.’
‘She’s a lucky girl.’
‘Who is?’
‘Lebony, of course. I think they might have broken the mould when they made you.’
He held my gaze for a moment, then smiled. ‘You do realise it’s a façade? I’m really a selfish misogynist who’s luring you into a false sense of security before unleashing my evil plan for world domination.’ He touched his lip with his little finger, like Dr Evil from the Austin Powers films. ‘Speaking of Lebony, I’d better go and Skype her.’
So that was that. I was back at Ben’s playing mum – a role I should have been allowed to adopt more than 17 years ago. I had the days on my own, looking after Luke, and the evenings with Ben’s extremely welcome support. I went to Jimmy’s every day to sit by Shannon’s bedside, hoping for news, and to see Callum. Sometimes Ben would accompany me again in the evening, and other times I’d go on my own and leave Luke in his capable hands. He tried to make out that he struggled with changing nappies, found it challenging to dress Luke and had the frequent bottle-assembling spillage disasters that I had, but I knew he was only saying it to make me feel better. He was a natural with Luke. What did make me feel a little better was when I ‘accidentally’ forgot to warn him about the urine risk and Luke gave Ben the same welcome he’d given me. Hilarious!
Callum’s recovery was slower than expected. He’d been given some penicillin-based antibiotics and it transpired he was allergic to the stuff. He swelled up and developed a painfully itchy rash all over this body, poor lad. Shannon, on the other hand, was doing very well. She’d fought off the fever. The cuts and bruises had healed, leaving behind a few tiny scars that were only noticeable if you knew they were there. Dr Kaur assured us that her internal wounds had healed too. The swelling on her brain had reduced and, two weeks after the accident, they started talking about bringing her round. I was elated yet also terrified at the thought. I’d become extremely close to Callum and had learned so much about my daughter from him. I’d learned that her favourite colour was yellow because it represents hope and happiness and her favourite passage in the Bible was: ‘And there I will give her her vineyards and make the valley of trouble a door of hope’ (Hosea 2:15). I knew that fairground carousels terrified her, yet she loved rollercoasters and once went on The Big One at Blackpool Pleasure Beach 10 times in a row. She was allergic to cats, she once dyed her hair green by accident and she dreamed of running her own school of dance. I’d even watched videos of her playing the guitar and dancing. The guitar playing was good and she had a sweet singing voice, but what a talented and versatile dancer she was. She could do ballet, Latin, ballroom, contemporary and street, although Callum told me ballet was her main passion. I knew all of these things about her. I’d had a snapshot into her life through the power of social media. I felt as if I actually knew her as a person, yet she didn’t know me from Adam. Worse than that, she hadn’t given me permission to explore her past. She hadn’t Facebook-friended me and shared the videos with me. What if she regained consciousness and hated that Callum had let me into her life in this way?
On Saturday morning, Aisling arrived. She’d flown to Manchester the evening before to drop Torin an
d Briyana off at their dad’s, then caught a train to Leeds first thing in the morning. He was going to bring them across on the train on Thursday so I could see them. Ben had offered to swap rooms so that Aisling and I could share his double bed, but I put my foot down. It wasn’t fair to kick him out but it also wasn’t fair on Aisling to be disturbed by Luke. Being in the lounge on an inflatable mattress wasn’t going to provide much protection from his screams, but it would certainly give her more chance of sleep than being in the same bedroom. When the kids arrived, though, the three of them would need to check into a hotel. There was no way three adults, two kids and a baby could spend two nights in a two-bedroom house with only one bathroom.
‘This is my big sister Aisling,’ I said to Callum, on the Sunday afternoon. I screwed my face up. ‘I guess that makes her your auntie-in-law-to-be, if there’s such a thing.’
They exchanged greetings, then I passed Luke to his daddy for cuddles. When he was settled, Callum reached for my hand. ‘Tomorrow’s the day,’ he said.
‘Shannon?’
He nodded with vigour. ‘They’re going to bring her round.’
‘Oh my God!’ Aisling said. ‘That’s amazing news. Will she be okay? Do they know?’
Callum shrugged. ‘They’re hoping so, but there are no guarantees. You’ll be here, won’t you, Clare?’
‘I’d love to, but I don’t know if I should be one of the first people she sees.’
‘I’d like to say don’t be daft, but I talked to Dr Kaur about it. She says that Shannon will be, like, very disorientated, and it’s going to be confusing enough having a bunch doctors and nurses staring at her without introducing anyone else. She wants me to be the only one she sees at first. She’s not likely to be awake for very long. When she wakes up again, we can prepare her to meet you. I’d still like you to be here, though.’ Callum squeezed my hand.
‘Of course I’ll be here. Should I bring Luke?’
‘Dr Kaur says yes. Shannon might ask for him and she doesn’t want her thinking, like, she lost him in the accident and we’re fobbing her off. It’s better that he’s around if she asks about him.’
Dreaming About Daran (Whitsborough BayTrilogy Book 3) Page 16
