‘He’s my son, Rosie. My boy.’ She swiped at the ground with the brush. ‘And I know you understand what that means because you’re a mum too.’
Rosie nodded. The message was clear: she’d choose him every time. Ironically, and no matter how much it hurt, she did understand. ‘Has Phil mentioned to you this whole school thing?’
Mo nodded. ‘Yes. Yes he has. They showed me the prospectus.’
Rosie stalled, trying to quell her rising fear. ‘I don’t... I don’t see how it’s even up for discussion. It’s crazy! As if they’d go and live in London for half the year! It’s not going to happen.’
Mo sighed and leant on the long brush handle. ‘I don’t know what to say. But I do know that, despite everything, Phil is a good dad. He always has been and I can see that it would be wrong not to let him have an equal role in their upbringing.’
Rosie stared at her mother-in-law; this was beginning to sound like she supported the absurd suggestion.
Mo continued. ‘And if you take all the emotion out of it, it looks like a really wonderful prospect for them. To have a first-class education, all those opportunities that they wouldn’t get here.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s food for thought.’
‘So you’d be happy, would you, having them living hundreds of miles away, seeing them only occasionally?’
‘No. No, I wouldn’t. I’d miss them dreadfully, but as I said, I was trying to take the emotion away and look at it practically. And I can see that it would be a great thing for them. I worry about the kids’ future.’
‘You think I don’t?’
‘No, I know you do and that’s the only reason this feels worth considering. They’d have all the chances that we never did and that’s all I’m saying.’
‘I can’t even think about it, Mo. There is no way on God’s earth I am going to be separated from my girls. No way!’ She turned down her mouth, jutted out her chin and shook her head to emphasise the point. ‘Would you have let Phil and Kev go?’
Mo looked past her towards the coast. ‘I can’t picture it, no. But then things are different for you two: you’re not living together and that changes everything. Phil might have done well in a school like that, and Kev, well, he’s so clever, he did well enough, didn’t he? But if he’d had those opportunities, those connections, who knows what he could have done?’
Rosie felt her calmness evaporating. ‘Well, I can’t do it. I won’t. I need them with me. I didn’t have kids so someone else could tuck them in and cook their tea. I don’t want to miss a single second of their growing up and I won’t. And that’s that.’ She squeezed the car keys in her hand until they bit into her palm.
‘I understand, Rosie, but as hard as it is, it’s not only about what you want. I think the girls would thank you for letting them spend half their time with their dad. It makes it fair and I think an education is the greatest gift you can give.’
Rosie turned to leave. She spoke over her shoulder as she made for the car. ‘Trust me, Mo, there is nothing fair about any of this. And, actually, an education is not the greatest thing you can have; a mum is. I should know, I never had either and I know which I’d have preferred.’
*
Rosie tackled the next few days at maximum speed. She was a human hurricane of activity because she knew that if she were to stop for just a minute, if she were to pay heed to the thoughts and sirens that whirred in her mind, she’d risk going mad. She hiked in and out of town for the smallest of reasons – to post a letter, fetch a pint of milk or take the carrier bags to the recycling bin, all tasks that could just as easily have been done on the way to or from school. When there were no chores left, she began her cleaning routine again, emptying, scouring and reorganising the kitchen cupboards, scrubbing the wainscot in the hallway, even taking an old toothbrush to the insides of the window frames. The only way for her to sleep at night was to be so physically exhausted that her mind had little option but to switch off.
Friday evening arrived quickly. She sat on the sofa, with Naomi on the floor in front of her, and brushed her daughter’s hair.
‘You’re hurting me!’ Naomi wailed.
‘No, I’m not. And if you let me brush it properly more often, we wouldn’t have this rigmarole. Long, thick hair needs looking after or it gets tangly, you know that.’ She continued wielding the brush in long strokes, her deft fingers clamped over the roots to minimise any tugging.
Leona turned from in front of the TV and smiled at her sister’s discomfort.
‘You can smile, Miss Leo, but you’re next!’ Her littlest daughter stopped smiling.
A little while later, Phil arrived to collect the girls. He hovered on the pavement. Rosie left the front door wide and wondered at his hesitancy. It was only when she took the girls’ bags out to him that she saw the shock of blonde hair in the front seat of the Range Rover. Phil’s eyes looked from left to right as he blinked rapidly. He was nervous. She guessed he’d told his pregnant girlfriend that he conducted all his family business on the pavement and didn’t want to shatter that illusion. The coward.
‘I’ll bring them back on Sunday at the usual time, okay? Mid afternoon.’ He addressed the ground.
Rosie nodded and looked towards Gerri, who stared ahead, determinedly unseeing but clearly not uncaring about what was happening over her shoulder. Phil lifted the tailgate, stashed the two rucksacks in the boot and opened the rear door. Rosie kissed her girls and stood back slightly but was still able to hear Gerri’s greeting as her children clambered into the back seat.
‘Here are my gorgeous girls! Who wants to have some fun?’ she sang.
Rosie shrank back against the wall, unable to wave, unable to move. They are not your girls! They are not... She felt worn out. As the hard work of the past week caught up with her and Gerri’s words echoed in her ears, her gut twisted in anguish and her tears fell. She had no one to turn to. Not Phil, not Mel, not even Mo. And as for her own mum... With the prospect of losing the girls now becoming scarily real, it was harder than ever to understand Laurel’s departure. ‘I miss you, Mum. I miss you so much.’ She spoke aloud to the smiling mother of her childhood, ignoring the letter of rejection that sat in the chest of drawers in her bedroom.
Later that evening, Rosie sat on the sofa and drank two large glasses of wine. The bottle had been nestling in the cupboard under the sink for an age and tonight it was just what she needed. She didn’t bother chilling it but instead just glugged it down, hoping for the desired effect sooner rather than later.
Her phone buzzed. Mo. She closed her eyes and took the call.
‘Hey, Mo.’ It was hard to disguise her downbeat mood.
‘Wrong again.’ Kev laughed.
‘Kev!’ She smiled. ‘You need to stop using your mum’s phone.’
‘And you need to be more pleased to hear from me.’
‘I am! Are you home?’
‘No. Yet again, I got Mum to send her phone to—’
‘I get it. Shut up. You’re home. It’s good to hear your voice.’ She whimpered as she spoke.
‘For God’s sake, are you still crying? How is that even possible? I’m surprised the drains of north Devon aren’t overflowing. Who knew the human body could make this much water?’
Rosie sniffed. ‘I’m just having a bit of a shit week.’
‘Bench time?’
She looked out of the window at the cold November night. ‘It’s bloody freezing!’
‘So?’ he shouted. ‘What are you, a lightweight? In fact, don’t bother answering that. I know the answer.’
‘Can’t you just come here? I’ve got wine.’ She held up the inch or two that was left sloshing around in the bottle.
‘Oh well, if you’ve got wine! Why didn’t you say so?’ he gushed sarcastically. ‘This is like when Mum and Dad went away and we blew the weekly food budget on marshmallows and vodka and you were sick in dad’s coolbox.’
She laughed. ‘I haven’t drunk vodka or eaten a marshmallow since that day.’ She
grimaced at the memory.
‘I told you you were a lightweight. Shall I come over then?’
She tutted. ‘Yes! Come over.’ As if there could be any other answer.
Opening the front door minutes later, she stood back to let her friend in. He was dressed for a more tropical climate, in jeans and a thin white T-shirt.
‘Aren’t you cold?’ She shivered in sympathy.
‘Yes.’ He nodded.
‘Your hair’s grown.’ She noted that, and his deep, dark tan.
‘It keeps doing that.’ He nodded. ‘And you’re shrinking! Where are all your curves? I could snap you like a stick!’ He pinched her shoulder.
‘Ow!’ She punched his ribs in retaliation. ‘So, how’s life in your new location?’
‘It’s...’ He tried to think of the word. ‘...perfect!’
‘So, paradise found?’
‘Yes, for now, and that’s all you can ask for, isn’t it?’
‘I guess. It’s so good to see you! And you’re staying till Christmas?’
‘That’s the plan.’ He looked her up and down. ‘You look great. Still a bit sadder than I would have hoped...’ He let this hang.
‘Well, the good news is, I’m not so sad about Phil any more. I mean, still sad, but I’ve turned a corner.’
‘That’s good to hear. The baby news was a bit of a shocker.’
‘You think?’ She sighed. ‘To be honest, I haven’t even thought about that for a while. I’ve got bigger things to fill my head.’
He followed her into the sitting room.
‘Urgh, what’s that smell?’ He sniffed the air.
‘They’re my scented candles. Apple flavoured – I love them. Phil hated them.’
‘Well, there’s not much I agree with Phil on, but in this case...’ He waved his hand in front of his nose before taking the seat in the middle of the sofa.
Rosie sat at the end and stretched her legs over his lap, the way she used to when they were teenagers, nestling against the wide arm, overjoyed to have her friend to talk to. She handed him the remains of the wine, which he swigged from the bottle.
‘Cheers!’ She raised her glass. ‘I’m sad because I’m afraid they’re going to take the girls away and send them to school in London!’
‘Mum mentioned it.’
‘What do you think?’ She balanced the wine glass on her lap and tied her hair into a knot.
Kev blew out his cheeks. ‘I think it’s bloody ridiculous. As if they’d want to be away from you, or vice versa. It’s just bonkers. I’m not saying anything about them spending time with their dad, I think they should, but I don’t see that just because a school is expensive, it makes it good. It’s just preposterous.’
She beamed. This time it was tears of gratitude and relief that fell. ‘Thank you, Kev. I knew you’d get it. I’ve been feeling guilty because I don’t want to hold them back, I want them to have good lives and all the things I didn’t have, but at the same time, they’re my babies and I want them close to me, you know?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, I do know.’
‘They’re all I’ve got! As if I’d want them to live anywhere but with me!’ She shook her head. ‘I love them so much, even being away from them for one night is like torture. I think about them all the time. Even when I close my eyes, I see them. Does that make sense?’
Kev stared at her and placed his free hand on her toes. ‘It makes perfect sense, Rosie Watson.’
There was a moment of quiet before he spoke again. ‘It’s the same for me.’
‘What’s the same for you?’ She sipped her plonk, confused, wondering if there were little Kevs roaming the planet that she was unaware of.
‘That’s how I feel about you.’ He looked straight at her, speaking without guile.
‘What do you mean?’ She gave a nervous laugh. With her booze filter in place, she wanted to make sure she had the right end of the stick.
‘I came back early from the BVI to see you. No other reason. I think about you all the time and I always have, since I was twelve. Since you first walked home with me and made me laugh.’
Rosie laughed. ‘Are you mucking around?’
‘No, I’m not.’ He spoke in a tone that was unfamiliar to her; earnest and calm, keen to be understood.
She screwed her face up.
He took a deep breath. ‘Okay. I’m just going to say it.’
‘Say what?’
‘I love you, I always have. And no girl at uni, no girl I’ve met anywhere else in the world has come close. Never has, never will. And I think if you let yourself, you could love me. I know it.’
She stared at him in silence.
‘I should have spoken up before, when Phil made his move, but I just wanted you to be happy, that’s how much I love you. You being happy is the single most important thing to me, and I thought that he might be the one to make that happen. I wanted you to have a family and all the support you never got from your mum. That’s why I went abroad, why I travel. I wasn’t about to interfere in your choices, but I sure as hell wasn’t prepared to hang around in the wings and watch the performance.’
Rosie thought about how she’d felt seeing Gerri in the car earlier, cosying up to her husband, her daughters. ‘I... I don’t know what to say.’
This was new territory for them both. They’d always been easy and open with each other, ever since they were kids. But Kev’s declaration had introduced a new strangeness.
‘I’m married to your brother!’
‘I had noticed.’
‘Why didn’t you ever say something to me?’
Kev gave a short burst of laughter. ‘Good God, Rosie! It was obvious to anyone who ever got within ten feet of us. Apart from you, apparently. Everyone knew!’
‘Did they?’ She thought of Mo, Mel, all of them.
‘Phil certainly did.’ Kev bit his bottom lip. ‘But that was him all over. I think he took you because he knew I loved you. I really believe that. He was a jealous bastard, didn’t like that I was the youngest, the one set for uni, the one with a plan. And when he stepped through that door and saw how I looked at you, it must have seemed easy.’
Rosie snatched her legs from his lap, planted her feet on the floor, jumped up and turned to face him.
‘How dare you say that, Kev? How can you talk about me as if I was a thing to be taken, owned! How can you cheapen my marriage, my existence like that?’ Her face was flushed now, her voice trembling. ‘That’s my kids’ dad you’re talking about! How d’you think Nay and Leo would feel, hearing that when they’re older? That my whole marriage, my whole family was just some bloody extension of a fight over a toy!’
Kev twisted on the sofa. His voice was quivering too. ‘That’s not what I’m saying! I don’t doubt he loved you when he married you and I know he loves the girls, I do know that. But I’m saying that of all the girls in the whole wide world that he could have picked, he chose the one that I loved and that was a shit trick.’ He stood up and placed his hand on the top of her arm. ‘This isn’t how I planned this moment and, believe me, I have thought about it a lot, millions of times. And I’m sorry you’re upset, that’s the last thing I wanted, obviously, because of the whole crying thing.’ He looked up at her. She wasn’t laughing; this was not one of those times when his humour could make things better. ‘But the fact remains that I love you, Rosie. It’s you. You’re the one.’
Rosie placed her face in her hands and closed her eyes. ‘What is wrong with you boys? Are all the Tipcott men fucking idiots? Have you any idea what you’re suggesting, what that would do to Mo and Keith? To Phil?’
‘Like his opinion counts now! He’s having a baby with another woman, for God’s sake! He did what he always does, whether it’s the army or working for Dad, or your marriage! He gets fed up, bored, has a change of heart, flips his mind and bails. He bins things. He’s always done it and he always will. So I’m sorry, but I don’t give a shit what he thinks!’
Rosie shrugged her arm
free from his grip. ‘Just go, Kev. I really want you to leave.’
‘Can’t we talk about it?’ He stepped back.
‘There’s nothing to talk about! And the saddest thing is that everyone I thought I could rely on, everything and everyone that’s been a constant in my life, is slowly disappearing, one by one. Even you.’
‘I’m not going anywhere, ever.’
‘Don’t you get it? You’ve changed things, just when I needed it to be like it always was. I’d like you to you leave, please, Kev.’ She raised her voice. ‘Just leave me alone.’
‘All right. All right.’ He raised his palms and walked backwards out of the room. ‘I can’t help loving you, Rosie Watson. Trust me, my life would have been a whole lot easier if I didn’t love you. But that’s just the way it is. I always have loved you and I always will.’
Rosie turned her back to the door. She listened to him leave, then sank down on the sofa and buried her head under a cushion. Not for the first time, she wanted to disappear.
*
She woke with a headache woven from wine and confusion. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d slept on the sofa. Her neck ached and her eyes were bloodshot. One thing that remained crystal clear in her mind, however, was Kev’s revelation. She had always, always loved him, but in the way a best friend loves a best friend. Yes, there had been times in their teens when it had come close to being more, but those moments had always been punctured by some hilarity, split seconds of hesitation that were quickly filled with laughter rather than intimacy. Kev was the boy who chased her with seaweed, who put her on his shoulders and then fell over, head first, into the sand dunes. There had been no tender declarations of love, no thunderbolt moments of epiphany; they were simply the very best of friends. Or they used to be.
The way he had supported her and Phil, slapping his brother on the back at their wedding and jetting off as soon as he was able, had only reinforced her view that his feelings towards her were platonic.
Rosie soaked in a hot bubble bath and ate three slices of toast and jam. She began to feel better and decided to call him; it was the only way to stop any awkwardness between them, nip it in the bud.
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