Julie ran into her dad’s arms next. She might be a married woman, but she was still his little girl. As Maya watched themsmiling and talking, the light in both their eyes, she felt that familiar tug of sadness that somewhere along the way, she and her father had lost the ability to connect.
They migrated outside to the patio to make the most of the summer weather and beneath the shade of the wide umbrella, Julie told them all about the resort they’d honeymooned at, the sailing lessons, the chef who’d cooked the most delectable fish dishes every night of their stay. Julie and Seth had taken cooking lessons, learnt to make their own coconut curry, something Julie was most proud of and had the photos to prove it. She told them she’d make it again soon. They’d been scuba diving, snorkelling, seen the most beautiful marine life.
‘And now I have to come back down to earth,’ Julie admitted, taking the glass of lemonade with ice from her father. He handed the other one to Maya.
‘When are you back to work?’ Maya asked her sister.
‘In a few days. But I’m down to three days a week to give me a chance to work on the house.’
‘And to give you a chance to scope out starting a business from home?’ Nigel probed.
Julie worked in accounts and had been part of a small team at a firm where she’d been since she left education. She enjoyed it, she had a head for figures, and she’d always said it would be a good job to do alongside parenthood. She was loyal to the firm she was with, but Maya knew she would leave the moment they started a family, at which point she’d have plans in place to continue accountancy in some capacity from home.
Maya listened to her sister and their dad talk about what Julie had planned – the website she’d need, how she’d build a client base from scratch. She was struck at how much her sister looked like their mother – the same colouring, the same high cheek bones. She knew it already, of course, but seeing Julie so happy, beaming, reminded Maya of how she liked to think ofher mother, full of joy with a smile captured forever in so many photographs around the family home. Julie wouldn’t remember the wrench it had been the day they left Cornwall, the shouting from their father, the tears from their grandparents. She’d been oblivious, safely ensconced in her bubble of three-year-old innocence.
The girls had seen their grandparents after that day but it had been the end to spending summers with them. There was no more going to the beach with their buckets and spades, no more sleeping in their mother’s old bedroom and being able to feel her presence, no more Maya helping Granny make bread in her kitchen and talking about Anya while her little sister slept.
Instead of going to Cornwall, the girls’ grandparents came here to the house. They were still Granny and Gramps, but it was never the same again and when they’d died within eleven months of each other less than two years later, it felt to Maya like losing her mother all over again.
14
Noah closed the rear door to the car and counted to ten. How could a twelve-month-old be so strong it had taken literal force to get her into the damn car seat? She’d screamed at the top of her lungs as if he’d put her in a straitjacket rather than a five-point harness.
After a few deep breaths, he got into the driver’s seat and set off for home.
Earlier on, when he’d arrived home sooner than expected, he’d been full of confidence; he’d told Geraldine to finish early, that he had it all in hand. He’d given Eva her dinner, everything had been running smoothly until he realised he didn’t have any dinner for himself. Without thinking too much about it, he’d bundled Eva into the car and headed for the supermarket for what was supposed to be a quick trip to collect enough groceries for a stir fry. Except it had turned out to be a trip from hell. He’d pushed it, decided to shop for enough food to get through the next week so he didn’t have to come back and he’d taken Eva past the point of no return when nothing either of them did helped to soothe her. He should’ve settled her after dinner, let her have a play, given her a bottle and put her down for thenight. He should’ve ordered himself a takeaway. Or, better still, he should’ve done the shopping before he went home and sent the nanny on her way.
Hindsight was a wonderful thing.
By the time he pulled onto the driveway at the signal box cottage, Eva had cried herself to sleep. Maybe she was pissed off at him for not giving her a birthday party. He’d considered it but with everything going on right now, all the uncertainty, he’d not done anything major. He, Eva and Geraldine had quietly celebrated with cake and gifts and Geraldine, being the surrogate grandparent that she was, had assured him it wouldn’t scar Eva for life. He wondered, would he get the chance to make it up to Eva? Be the cool Uncle Noah who threw the best parties for her?
He thumped the steering wheel and then cringed in case he’d woken her up. A quick glance round told her he hadn’t. ‘I’m a shit dad,’ he muttered, his face resting on his hands. ‘You deserve better than me, Eva.’
He tried to transfer Eva from car seat to cot, which had never worked before. He’d been kidding himself it would this time to be honest and when she woke, he had to abandon her screaming in her cot while he got the groceries in.
He then spent a full hour trying to calm her down enough to have her bottle and hopefully go to sleep.
But that didn’t happen either. She refused the milk, she wouldn’t settle. He paced with her, he tried to set her on the floor to play with the funny set of pots and pans that emitted painfully repetitive tunes over and over again until he thought the only way to sanity was to remove the batteries. The only reason he hadn’t was that he thought it might send Eva over the edge.
Finally she took the bottle, she seemed calm and content in his arms but the minute he tried to put her down for the night again, the crying started.
This was all his fault.
Noah had seen mothers around town with their iPhones tucked into their swish baby carriers lulling the babies to slumber with white noise and always thought they were only making things harder for themselves if the kid couldn’t sleep without some kind of musical aid. But perhaps they were more savvy than he gave them credit for.
When Eva finally settled, Noah slumped down in the hallway outside her bedroom, exhausted.
He was failing at this. He was useless.
And that feeling was all he needed to propel him up and into the lounge where he grabbed Paul’s letter and his phone.
Out on the back porch, he tapped out the phone number and Paul answered after only three rings.
The guy had no idea Cassie had died and after Noah delivered the terrible news, he seemed discombobulated and lost for words. In the end, he’d told Noah he’d have to call him back.
Noah stayed outside. He wondered whether Paul had wanted Cassie more than he wanted Eva. His letter had been written to Cassie requesting he see his daughter but maybe that was a cover story.
Paul did call back and this time was a lot calmer. He was sorry for Noah’s loss and for Eva’s and he wanted to come and meet Eva. Noah saw no point in asking the guy why he’d upped and left, at least not yet. Eva was the priority here, and Paul was keen. So they arranged a day and time when Paul would come over.
