‘Are you sure you’re all right?’ he muttered. ‘You aren’t on the run from a cartel of international drug thieves who are about to descend on this place?’ He glanced towards the blameless dragon, caught into the buggy by straps around his red felt scales. ‘And that’s full of heroin?’
My heart had settled now the flashback had passed. ‘No,’ I said shortly.
‘Shame. We could have flogged it and made a couple of million.’
My face stretched with disbelief. ‘Really? You’d take on international drug cartels?’
There was an empty table by the window. I hustled a highchair over. Although Tilly was technically too old to need one, I didn’t want to risk anything.
‘Why not?’ Ross shrugged. ‘I could do with a couple of million and you seem a sensible sort of person to go on the run with.’
He kept doing this, I thought, as we pretended to scan the menu. I hoped he’d been serious about the hot chocolate as I couldn’t really afford more than a small carton of juice for Tilly, if I didn’t have anything, and if she was cheated of her chocolate then I’d be bearing the brunt for the rest of the day.
‘I’ll get this,’ he said, to my relief.
‘I hope you’re not spending the drugs money in advance,’ I said, just as a waitress came over to take our order. Judging by the bored way she stood, this wasn’t the most outlandish statement she’d heard this morning. Or, chances were, the most illegal.
‘No, I’ll wait until we get to our private island before I start flashing the cash,’ he replied, equally seriously.
The waitress handed Tilly a little colouring book and a set of pencil crayons with a look of sympathy. Clearly, her look said, this poor child was being raised by two people with questionable morals.Andthe poor little soul had been put in unsuitable shoes on a wet day. Perhaps she should ring social services now.
Ross ordered us two coffees and a hot chocolate for Tilly, who was beside herself with anticipation. ‘And a muffin,’ Ross added. ‘Three muffins. Please.’
‘Blueberry, lemon, banana or high fibre?’ the waitress asked, still looking bored.
‘Er. Blueberry,’ Ross said. Now I was the one who was beside herself with anticipation. Proper coffeeanda muffin? How long had it been?
‘So, I take it you and Tilly’s dad don’t live together?’ Ross helped Tilly get the crayons out of the packet so she could start scribbling over the farm animals in the little book in unlikely colours.
‘No.’ Then, feeling I’d been a bit short, and he was buying coffee, ‘we split up when Tilly was really tiny.’
‘Badly?’
I didn’t want to do this in front of Tilly. She was crayoning a cow ferociously in green, but I knew that her toddler brain would be listening, absorbing, soaking up anything I might say about her father to regurgitate back at me. Or, even worse, at someone else. I tried to indicate with my eyes that this wasn’t a subject for a coffee meeting. ‘Quite.’
‘How do you reckon you are going to get Isobel out of Elm Cottage?’ He changed the subject so smoothly that I felt almost insulted. Perhaps he didn’t care why or how I’d split up with David; after all, it wasn’t anything to do with him, and neither was I. We were employer and employee. Maybe he was just trying to find something to say, something to keep conversation going.
‘I’ll appeal to her better nature,’ I said, and then snorted. ‘She can’t reallywantto live there. She says she’s got gas lamps and there’s a water tap outside, but there’s no heating and winter is coming, so I suspect she’ll leave of her own accord, quite quickly.’
Ross nodded, then the coffee and muffins arrived and I was occupied with trying to stop Tilly from throwing everything down her front. By the time we’d all finished, Ross was clearly ready to leave.
‘So, you’re going there tomorrow?’ he asked, chewing the side of a nail.
‘Only for a reconnaissance mission.’ I wrestled Tilly back into the buggy. ‘And to find Tilly’s boots. If there is so much as one wing feather in the place then I’m just going to stand outside the front door and yell.’
‘Five thousand pounds, though,’ Ross said. ‘If you can do it.’
I began the walk back to our flat through a fog that was beginning to streak its way along, marking the course of the river in a ghostly form as it rose above the water. Five thousand pounds. Of course I could do it. For five thousand pounds I’d bodily carry Isobel Isherwood out of the house. As long as she didn’t have any birds with her.
9
The next morning I got lucky. No, not lucky, that would make me seem grateful to not have my daughter, which was so far from the truth as to be laughable. But, because it was a Saturday, Tia decided to take her children to the park, and offered to take Tilly too.
‘Park!’ Tilly shouted, throwing herself enthusiastically at Tia’s knees. Then, more hopefully, ‘Ice cream?’
I prised her off Tia’s leg. My heart was begging me not to leave her, but Tia had taken Tilly for me before when I’d had to work and nothing bad had happened. Tia knew, if anyone did, about keeping children safe. I took a deep breath. ‘No ice cream, darling. But you can play in the park with Kiara.’ Kiara was Tia’s youngest, four and a half and Tilly’s best friend. ‘Are you sure it’s not too much, Tia?’
‘Nah, she’ll be fine. It’s good for Ki to have someone to play with. The older ones don’t want to know and they’ll be off on all the big equipment. I can sit with these two and read my book.’ Tia grinned widely at me. She knew how hard it was. I hadn’t had to tell her, she just knew. When I’d moved into the flat, she’d taken one look at me and my entire background must have been written across my face because she’d immediately started helping me out. I returned the favour when I could.
