I stop. Turn. There is something in his voice that compels me to stay.
He runs a hand through his hair, as if torn about how much to confide in me. ‘I’m under a lot of pressure to get this company back on track and – well, the truth is…’
I wait.
‘The truth is… I can’t afford to lose you. You keep this office together. Jeremy made me promise I’d look after you and… Oh listen, I’m useless at all this stuff. You know, no one’s ever stood up to me like that before.’ He dares to smile. ‘You’re quite frightening too.’
‘I’ve had a few battles. I’m used to fighting.’
‘You mean with Isla?’
It’s the first time he’s mentioned her name since she offered him a lemon cupcake.
‘You noticed,’ I say.
‘You don’t have to talk to me about her, not if you don’t want to.’
Ironically that makes me want to talk even more. ‘Why wouldn’t I want to?’
‘Of course. I didn’t mean—’
‘If you want to stick a label on it, she has cerebral palsy.’
‘I don’t. I really don’t.’
‘But to me she’s just Isla with her wobbly legs. There’s nothing she can’t do – nothing.’ Why am I feeling so emotional in front of him? To my surprise I find myself telling Ward about her birth and the two years leading to her diagnosis.
‘Forgive me if I’m being foolish but I always imagined people with her condition in a wheelchair.’
‘Not always. There are different types, different degrees. Having CP doesn’t mean you can’t be independent or get married, have children, or lead a normal life,’ I say, all the things I dream of Isla having, things I’ve discussed with her hospital team. ‘There’s no cure, but it can be treated and she does her physio twice a day or at leastmostdays. Sometimes I’m too bloody tired to bother after work.’
‘I can imagine. I’m sorry.’
‘You don’t need to be,’ I reply, jumpy again. I understand what Ward is trying to say, but I loathe pity. Isla would hate pity too. She’s as stubborn as I am and doesn’t like to think there’s anything she can’t do, or any reason why she can’t succeed.
Ward opens one of his cupboards and produces a bottle of red. He doesn’t ask if I want a glass, just pours us both one. My mobile rings. I tell Ward it’s Isla’s father, before taking the call outside his office.
When I return, Ward says, ‘Why did Dan come back?’
He’s a good listener, I’ll give him that. ‘Long story.’
‘I’m in no hurry. How about some takeaway?’ He rummages in his desk drawer. ‘Chinese, Thai?’
‘Hang on, don’t you have a home to go to?’ I feel we’re crossing some line here. I’m confused. One moment I’m angry with him, I don’t like him, the next I’m drinking wine in his office. Ward apologised, I accepted, we should both be going home. Me to Isla; Ward to his wife.
‘Stay. Tell me more.’
‘Why? You tell me nothing about you.’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
He’s lying. ‘Don’t you have to go home to your wife?’
‘She’s away.’
‘Really?’
‘Blimey, what’s with all the questions?’
