‘It’s a brave decision,’ he says finally. ‘I admire you for bringing her up on your own. I know I couldn’t do it.’
I take a deep breath. ‘Thanks Lucas, that means a lot.’
‘You’ve always had courage, J, much more than me.’
‘Lucas, I can’t thank you enough, I—’
‘I’ll sort out the cash this week,’ he says before I hear the click of the receiver.
Isla, Granny and I are due to fly to Chicago tomorrow morning, before we transfer on to a flight for St Louis. I have told Isla that we are going on a Christmas holiday but we will see a doctor too, who might help fix her wobbly legs. Rosie had advised me not to tell her too much too soon. ‘One day at a time,’ is our motto. Granny is arriving later on today. She has been ringing regularly, often to discuss the clothes she’s packing. I can imagine she’s had her suitcase, passport, dollars and clothes laid out in one of the spare rooms for days, weeks even. ‘I’m taking my winter coat. I should think it will be nippy although they always keep hospitals beautifully warm.’ I think both of us are excited, but at the same time, completely and utterly terrified. It’s as if we have been pushed, blindfolded, on to a diving board, and when we jump in, we have no idea how deep the water is.
Isla and I are on the tube late that afternoon, coming home from Covent Garden after doing some last-minute shopping. I bought a couple of paperbacks for the journey, along with Christmas presents: a reindeer jumper for Isla, fleece pyjamas, slippers and hair accessories. It’s odd to think we’ll be four thousand miles away from home on Christmas Day, eating lunch in a hotel. The operation will be behind us.
I try to put the surgery out of my mind, instead thinking about Lucas again. ‘Oh, he cares all right, Jan,’ Granny had said, changing her tune when I’d called to tell her the news. She was proud that he’d changed his mind, adding that sometimes it takes time to think things through. ‘He’s got many demons, that boy, but deep down he’s a good man.’ At Earls Court the doors slide open and hurriedly I reverse the buggy out of the carriage, a passenger taking pity and helping me with my bags and Isla’s walking frame. As we make our way towards the escalators that lead us to the District Line I’m wondering why I thought this was such a good idea. Tubes are a nightmare at the best of times.
Somehow, with the help of another Good Samaritan passenger, we manage to get ourselves and all our clobber on to the escalators. I watch people travelling down; a couple kiss passionately. I have no desire to be with anyone right now. Most of the time I’m too bloody tired for sex.
Suddenly, I see him.
He’s dressed in a suit. Has he seen me? He’s with another man. He turns, his eyes following mine. I stop breathing. I feel as if the entire escalator has come to a grinding halt and we are the only two remaining on it. I turn away, catching my breath, panic racing through my chest. What do I do? Do I pretend I didn’t see him? Shall I turn round and find him? I glance over my shoulder. He’s still there, looking up at me.
‘Mummy!’ Isla says, as we reach the top. I step off just in time and retrieve the frame from the kind man in front of us, still in a daze.
I don’t know how many seconds or minutes go by. It was him. It was Dan. Did he see Isla? Should I try to find him?
‘Itisyou,’ he says, walking through the throng and pulling me to one side. ‘I knew it was you.’
The sound of his voice sends shivers down my spine. My past is standing right in front of me.
Dan looks at me and then down to Isla’s buggy, colour visibly draining from his skin. ‘How are you?’ he asks.
‘Fine.’ Long pause. ‘You?’
‘Good. Hello,’ he says to Isla. ‘How old is she?’ Dan stares at me now.
‘Three.’
Deal with it. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I’m not ready.
Determined to get away, ‘We need to…’
‘When’s her birthday?’
I’m twenty-two. Nappies, mortgages, trips to the park, that’s a long way off.
I walk on, my hands trembling.
‘She’s mine, isn’t she?’
In that second I have the choice to carry on and don’t look back, or turn round. I’m scared of what I’ll do and of how much I want to punish him.
I’ll look into costs. I could take out a loan…
I carry on, weaving myself through the crowds. I can’t look back. Soon I’m standing on the platform, the train to Ealing Broadway will arrive in three minutes. It’s the longest three minutes ever. Come on. Come on.
I feel someone gripping my arm. It hurts.
‘Dan, let go of me.’
