“That’s good.”
“Actually, Oz is about to eat dinner if you’d like to help him out.”
“It’s a little early for dinner.” She looks at her watch. “Oh, it’s later than I thought.”
It’s better if I keep my mouth shut about her time-keeping.
I pull out a chair across the table but focus on Oz. While I calm down internally, I repeat my mantra.This visit is all about him.This visit is all about him. It’s a pity Chelsea can’t get her head around it.
“I was just wondering, as I’m here, if I could talk a few things through with you, Tommy?”
Now I look her in the eye. “This isn’t the time. You should focus on Ozzie.”
“Oh, I will, but it seems a shame to pass up this opportunity.”
Fuck. I was afraid of something like this. There’s always a hidden agenda with Chelsea.
“If you want a meeting, arrange it with our solicitors.” I’m trying hard to keep my tone light for Oz’s sake, but it’s tough.
“It won’t take a minute and it's good news.”
Christ, that means nothing. “Fine, but when Oz goes for his bath. We can talk in private then.”
She smiles and goes back to cutting up the meat on Ozzie’s plate. He can do it himself, but she’s already assumed he can’t and is taking over. As this is the most attention she's given our son in a while, I let it happen, but Oz was cutting up his own food way before she left. Did she really pay no attention to our son when she lived at home, or did Connie do it all?
Chelsea spends another thirty minutes playing games and colouring with Oz until her attention slips and her phone takes her interest instead. Connie and I exchange more looks until I’ve had enough.
“Bath time, Oz.”
“Oh,” he whines. “But I’m playing with Mummy.”
Chelsea finally looks up. “What’s going on?”
Jesus, if she would just pay attention. “Oz has to take his bath now.”
“So soon?”
The level of her sarcasm is off the scale, but thankfully, it doesn’t register with Oz. “Can we just play for five more minutes?”
I ruffle his hair. “Not tonight, bud.”
Oz looks over to his mum. “Will you promise to come and read me a story?”
“Maybe after I’ve spoken to Daddy, okay?”
“Okay,” Oz replies, scratching his head. He doesn’t seem too sure.
“Come on, little man. Let’s go,” Connie says, following him up the stairs at a snail’s pace. The poor kid is probably worried she’ll disappear before he's done.
It’s funny because I’m worried she will twist my words if I don’t have a witness. Neither of us trusts her.
“I’ve just got to get something. Back in a sec,” I tell her.
“Okay,” she replies. At least she’s not asking where I'm going.
Stepping out into the hall, I pick up the gate phone. “Can you do me a favour and come down here for five minutes? I need your help.”
“I’m on my way,” Ray confirms.
