New Hope for the Little Cornish Farmhouse

by Nancy Barone

  I thought about it. ‘He’s kind. Intuitive. Fiercely fond of his daughter. But, you know… I get this feeling.’

  ‘Yes?’

  I shrugged. ‘I get this feeling that he… wants out of Hollywood or something. That sooner rather than later he’ll leave.’

  ‘Leave? He’d be a fool. Hollywood loves him.’

  ‘Well, he said he’d be interested in scripting the other books too if this movie does well.’

  Her mouth fell open. ‘And you tell me that only now?’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell. It was just a conversation.’

  ‘Oh my Lord in Heaven, we’re in the money, honey!’ she cried.

  ‘Easy, Alice. We need to see how Written In The Stars goes first, yes?’

  Alice got to her feet. ‘It will be a blockbuster, Nina, trust me. And now, I have to get back to London. Keep me posted, will you?’

  ‘Ah, okay. Remember your promise.’

  ‘Yes, all right.’

  ‘And thanks for babysitting.’

  ‘Thank you for your cannelloni. If you weren’t going to be the next Nancy Meyers, I’d suggest you opening a restaurant. See you next month, doll!’

  ‘Bye,’ I said as I watched her from my front door, waving goodbye until her red Toyota disappeared down the hill. She had every faith in Luke. She was convinced my whole life and that of my children had taken a turn for the best. I certainly hoped so. Was I doing the right thing, or was I making a Bigger-than-Phil mistake?

  *

  As much as it killed me, Phil had visitation rights every other weekend and as usual, I mentally wrung my hands as I watched my kids prepare for the night over at his place. You might think I was nuts to leave my children in his hands, but the judge had decreed he was forgivable and therefore should be pardoned for his behaviour. Me, I’d connect him to a high-voltage socket while pushing him into a tank full of bloodthirsty sharks, but there you go.

  ‘Have you both packed your toothbrushes? Your liquid soap? Your towels? Hand wipes?’ I asked as I hovered between their two bedrooms.

  ‘Mum, Dad’s got soap,’ Ben giggled as he packed a couple of his favourite tractors.

  Judging by the state of him the last time I saw him, I doubted that.

  With their bags ready to go, they waited for him at the bottom of the stairs, Chloe busy on her mobile and Ben reading through his portable dictionary.

  ‘Mum, what’s another word for tardiness?’ he asked.

  Phil Jenkins, I wanted to say but sealed my lips.

  The doorbell went and Ben hopped to this feet, only to stop short upon opening the door.

  ‘Hey, handsome, come and give Auntie Emma a kiss!’ I heard Em say.

  ‘Hey,’ I called from the kitchen, utterly delighted. ‘You want to stay for tea?’

  She sauntered in, looking around as if she hadn’t been in ages.

  ‘Oh dear,’ Emma whispered, eyeing the kids. ‘Phil forgotten again?’

  ‘Yes,’ I whispered back.

  She shook her head. ‘He never changes, does he? Adam’s the same, you know? They just can’t be bothered, the pricks.’

  I shrugged, fighting back the burning sensation in my eyeballs. It hurt so much to see my children wait in vain for someone who simply didn’t care enough to remember. It wasn’t the first time. When Chloe looked sideways at me, I smiled sympathetically.

  ‘Would you like a biscuit while you wait?’ I asked. Trust me to resort to the easy solution.

  ‘No thanks,’ she said, lowering her gaze to check her messages.

  ‘Why don’t I take them then? One of my clients postponed,’ Emma offered. ‘It’ll give the girls a chance to hang out, seeing as we haven’t been lately.’

  ‘Please do, Em,’ I said gratefully and hugged her. ‘And thank you. As soon as things get back to normal we’ll have a nice dinner, okay?’

  She laughed. ‘No worries.’

  ‘How’s the job going?’

  ‘Oh, don’t ask, I’m full up to here,’ she answered, plucking an apple from the fruit bowl and biting into it.

  ‘Hm, Jack’s apples are the best, aren’t they? I don’t know what he does to them.’

  I grinned. ‘He probably sings to them.’

  Emma cackled. ‘I’m sure he does. That man is so dedicated to the things he loves. Have you seen him lately?’

  ‘No, not lately,’ I lied, feeling my ears burn. I so wanted to tell her about being caught out by him in front of that hotel, really, I did, but I felt that she wouldn’t approve either. ‘I expect he’s busy with his new girlfriend and all that.’

  ‘You don’t mind, do you, that we’re no longer Three’s Company? Then again, why would you, seeing as you have that stud muffin Luke O’Hara?’

  ‘I don’t have Luke O’Hara.’

  ‘Oh, I beg to differ,’ she whispered, eyeing the kids loitering in the entrance hall.

  I made a face. ‘Who told you that? Jack?’ There went my secret.

  Emma frowned. ‘Jack? I thought you said you hadn’t seen him lately. Where did you see him? What was he doing?’

  ‘I—I don’t know,’ I answered. ‘It was just men, I think. But he saw me… and Luke.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘We were just coming out of that French hotel in Marazion,’ I sighed. Le chat was out of le bag.

  ‘I knew it!’ she cried, slamming her hand against the table.

  ‘Please keep your voice down.’

  ‘Since when?’

  I shrugged. ‘It just happened. Please keep this to yourself. I already feel bad for Jack seeing me. He looked at me like I was a prostitute.’

  ‘Jack? No, he would never.’

  ‘Oh, he did,’ I assured her. ‘It was like I’d disappointed him or something.’

  She shrugged. ‘He probably misses you. Hell, I miss you.’

  ‘Well then why don’t we have dinner again this week? I’ll cook something nice.’

  ‘Sure, love to. Is Jack invited?’

  ‘Oh. Uhm, I’m not sure he…?’

  ‘Forget it,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll see him in Truro.’

  ‘You see him in Truro? You never mentioned.’

  ‘Oh. I meant I’ll see him around.’

  ‘Em, what’s going on here?’ I asked.

  She gave me a furtive look. ‘What?’

  I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Have you guys solved whatever it was that was bothering you? You were practically at loggerheads at one point and now you’re awfully chummy again.’

  ‘What choice have we got? You totally abandoned us since Luke arrived, breaking the hearts of the whole of the female Cornish population who had hoped to have a chance with him.’

  Hm.

  ‘Auntie Em, can we please go?’ Ben begged. ‘It’s lapalissian that Dad isn’t coming.’

  Emma frowned, her eyes swinging to me. ‘What’s he on about? What did you do, Ben, eat another dictionary for breakfast?’

  ‘He means “obvious”,’ Chloe bit off, not looking up from her phone.

  ‘Oh, I’m glad to see your vocabulary is improving too, Chloe,’ I praised.

  She smirked. ‘It isn’t. I just looked it up. Ben likes to show off when he feels neglected.’

  At that, I knelt at his feet. ‘Oh, my darling, you don’t feel neglected, do you, love?’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Mum, seriously? Chloe’s only speaking for herself. She’s angry that Dad has forgotten to pick us up again. I’d be much happier if I didn’t have to go. I find him tiresome to say the least. And it’s clear he doesn’t care enough to remember.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about your father, sweetheart,’ I said to Chloe. ‘He’s probably just still sleeping or something. ‘But Auntie Em has offered to take you guys to Truro for the weekend.’

  But instead of jumping up and down for joy as she would’ve in the past, Chloe was now eyeing me with suspicion. ‘What are you going to be doing in the meantime?’

  ‘Luke and I have got a script
to finish,’ I assured them as flashes of naked flesh raced across my mind.

  ‘Yeah, right, the script,’ she scoffed and marched out the door with her rucksack.

  I watched her, slack-jawed, and Emma shrugged. ‘Get used to it.’

  ‘Good luck, Em. And thanks. Bye, guys,’ I called out the door. ‘Mummy loves you. Don’t drive Auntie Emma crazy, behave yourselves.’

  ‘Yeah, yada, yada, yada,’ Chloe scoffed, getting into Em’s car. After they drove off, I closed the door with a sigh of relief. I would have to sort her out when she got back. I didn’t like her attitude at all. But for now, I finally had a moment’s peace. Time to get to work.

  I looked out the window. Luke was no longer in the garden. ‘Luke?’ I called.

  His voice reached me from my bedroom. ‘Up here, babe. You coming?’

  I caught my breath in anticipation. I could really get used to this.

  *

  A couple of hours later, and still no sign of Phil, the doorbell rang as I was making parsley sauce with boiled ham for tea. Luke had never heard of it so I wanted to introduce him to England’s culinary delights. With an Italian twist, of course.

  Wiping my hands on a tea towel, I made for the door, nearly tripping over Callie who followed me everywhere. She knew who her breadwinner was. Or in this case, her boiled ham-winner.

  When I opened the door, there was a girl of about, oh, maybe eighteen, if that, with pink and green hair in dreadlocks and a spike running through her nose, dressed in a polka-dot dress and biker boots. She would have been very pretty, if I’d been able to distinguish her features under all her make-up.

  ‘Can I help you?’ I asked.

  She smiled. A rather nice smile, typical of the young and full of hope and naivety.

  ‘Yah,’ she barked, and I noticed she was chewing on a large glob of blue gum. ‘Phil sent me to pick up the kids?’

  I baulked. ‘Phil?’

  ‘Yah.’

  ‘I’m sorry, you are…?’

  ‘Tracy.’

  ‘Tracy?’

  ‘I’m his girlfriend. Phil can’t make it because he’s busy.’

  Typical Phil. He begged me to have this day, and now he didn’t even show. ‘Busy?’ Doing what, I wondered, getting drunk on the sofa?

  She nodded, pulling on her long sleeves to reveal two enormous tattoos on each forearm as she blew a huge bubble and burst it. ‘Yah. The big game’s just about to start.’

  ‘I see. So he sent you so he can watch a football game?’

  ‘No, not football. Poker. We’ve got some friends around and Phil’s preparing the drinks and snacks.’

  ‘I’m sorry, uhm…?’

  ‘Tracy.’

  ‘Yes, Tracy. Please tell Phil that the kids waited and waited for him to show, and in the end they went to a friend’s.’ That should teach him. Or, knowing his track record, probably not. He had the memory of a pinhead.

  ‘Okay. Just give me the address and I’ll go pick ’em up, then.’

  Not only did she speak like Phil, she even acted and thought like him. A female clone? His dream had finally come true, then.

  ‘I’m sorry, Tracy, but my children are not available at the moment.’

  Her face fell. ‘What, you don’t trust me then?’

  ‘Trust you? I don’t even know you.’

  ‘But Phil sent me—’

  ‘I’m sorry, Tracy, nothing against you personally, but I’m not in the habit of farming off my children to my ex-husband’s friends. Especially after I’ve consigned them to perfectly capable parents whom I trust.’

  Her shoulders drooped. She was just a young girl, infatuated with a guy, just like I had been. ‘However nice they may be,’ I added hastily, not wanting to hurt her feelings. ‘Because I’m sure you’re very nice.’

  She perked up and smiled. ‘Thank you. I’m sure you are, too, despite what Phil says.’

  ‘Please tell my ex-husband that if he wants to spend time with his children, he can at least make the effort to remember the scheduled dates – and find the time to pick them up personally. And if he thinks I’m going to let them sit in his flat while there are other people I don’t know, playing poker, drinking and smoking, he’s got another think coming.’

  She blew a giant blue bubble that covered most of her face and burst it with her teeth. ‘He’s not gonna be happy,’ she warned me.

  I smiled. ‘Oh, believe me, he never is. I’m sorry you had a wasted journey. Nice meeting you.’

  She shrugged. ‘And you. Better luck next time, I guess.’

  I watched her turn and get into a yellow Maserati. At least his gambling was going well. Until it wouldn’t anymore, and he threw her out into the middle of the street, too. Because for a girl of her age, Tracy had already lumbered herself down with the biggest of losers. I knew because I had done all the legwork. Like many a young woman, she had stopped at the surface of Phil’s charm and let the relationship go from there to its eventual endpoint, soon to arrive.

  He may have been good-looking years ago, and, had we continued to be a couple, I’d have pushed him to eat healthily and take care of himself, but his girls didn’t care about his health. They were enthralled by his now fading but still boyish looks, thinking themselves clever for having bagged an older bloke who drove a sports car.

  That it wasn’t even his was secondary. Far from them were the doubts and questions about the future, such as, is he going to love me forever? Is he going to be responsible and care for his family? Is he going to love me unconditionally, even when the kids have flown the nest and I’m old and grey?

  Questions that I’d actually asked my younger self, believe it or not. But back then, Phil was different. We had had the same goals, the same will to conquer the world for the good of our family. But when my writing money started coming in, paying for the things we’d always previously had to do without, such as holidays and top-quality clothes and extras, Phil decided he could take his foot off and let me do all the pedalling.

  And when the hill got steeper and I could no longer carry everyone’s weight, he simply hopped off the back seat, taking the wheels with him, leaving me a single mum with two kids on a dwindling income.

  *

  The next morning, as Luke and I lay in bed, for once not having to jump up to feed the kids, my stomach gurgled.

  Luke laughed. ‘Starving you, am I?’ he said as he kissed my mouth. ‘You stay here and I’ll go get us something to eat. Don’t move.’

  I wasn’t planning on going anywhere. It had been an amazing night, and I wanted to see where this was going. If anything, he’d proven to me that a) I was not frigid as Phil used to say and b) that I still “had” it. Who knew?

  And Luke, what a beautiful man. Kind and fun. A bit controlling, maybe, but that was probably just his being used to having his way, being a superstar and all that.

  There was a muffled kerfuffle downstairs and I sat up, instantly alert.

  ‘Oy! Who the bleedin’ ’ell are you?’

  Oh, God. This was all I needed – Pheral Phil unleashed in my home. What the hell was he doing here, and at this hour, to boot? The last thing I needed was for Luke to see what a prize I’d bagged in my youth. I threw on a pair of nearby jeans and a sweater, tying my hair back as I tiptoed downstairs.

  There stood Luke in a pair of hip-hugging boxers, looking for all the world like his younger self in the Calvin Klein underwear ad, carrying a tray with two bowls of Honey Nut cereal.

  Phil looked back and forth between us, slack-jawed. ‘Nina! Are you serious?’

  ‘What do you want, Phil?’ I said, then turned to Luke. ‘Phil, obviously.’

  ‘Ex-husband, Phil?’ Luke asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Not yet ex,’ Phil ground out, then it hit him. ‘You’re the actor. Luke O’Hara, right?’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ Luke said, suddenly as suave as they came. I looked for a sign of jealousy, but there was none. Luke was nowhere near intimidated by the presenc
e of my almost ex-husband. Yet he had posited that Bill was based on Phil, only a consonant away from the monster that had ruined my life. And yet, there was no sign of animosity anywhere on his perfect face.

  ‘I didn’t realise you and my wife—’ Phil began.

  ‘Ex-wife,’ I said again.

  ‘—Were sleeping together.’

  ‘Oh,’ Luke said, sliding me a glance as I shook my head, but it was too late. It was obvious even to anvil-head here.

  ‘Well, good luck to you, then. There’s no one like my Nina,’ Phil said, pseudo-wistfully, changing tactic, and I rolled my eyes at the line he used to pull out at the end of an argument to make sure I’d forgive him. Back then, it used to make me think twice about leaving him. Now, I could see right through him. And speaking of which, I suddenly realised why he was so accommodating. If I met a new man, Phil would be off the hook once and for all for child support, in his simple mind. Jesus, why was everyone always so calculating? Why wasn’t I that fast on my feet? Emma would’ve figured that one out in a heartbeat.

  Luke glanced at me, then lowered his eyes, but I could tell something had shifted. ‘You’re absolutely right,’ he said, putting the tray down. ‘There’s no one like Nina.’

  Phil hiked his jeans up higher. ‘Well, I’d better be off, let you two… get to work.’

  ‘Thanks, man,’ Luke said.

  When I closed the door behind him, I let out a sigh of relief. ‘I’m so sorry, Luke…’

  He ran a hand through his hair and fixed me with his stare. ‘I didn’t realise you still talked to each other. Nor that he was even still in your life.’

  Ah. Finally, a bit of wholesome jealousy. Not that I wanted him to break Phil’s nose or anything (hmmm, on second thought), but it would have been nice to see a bit of territorial in him.

  ‘I told you, he isn’t. But I won’t let the children suffer by eliminating him completely from their lives. They believe he loves them, and I don’t want to shatter that illusion.’

  ‘I don’t think he sees it that way, Nina. I think he still holds a candle for you.’

  ‘Oh, he knew it was over the day he dumped me and the kids in that trailer.’

  ‘I’m not so sure,’ he said.

  ‘Are you afraid he’s going to do something to try and get me back?’