Phoebe’s shining eyes glaze with a look of sheer adoration. I can’t blame her. Dressed in a fitted woollen knee-length coat that nips in at the waist and kicks out over her hips, Ava looks like she’s just stepped off the catwalk. And don’t get me started on the knee-high boots she’s paired it with. She’s wearing that deep wine-coloured lipstick again. The same shade as last night’s lingerie. Not helpful.
‘Wow.’ Phoebe doesn’t even try to hide her awe. ‘Daddy has a pretty friend.’ She turns to me with an accusatory stare. ‘Why haven't you invited Ava over for a playdate? I could have showed her my dolls.’
She turns back to Ava. ‘I have an LOL doll that has boots and a coat exactly like yours.’ Her tiny hands gesticulate over Ava’s outfit. ‘She has a matching black hat too. Do you have a hat? Daddy says we have to wear one, so we don’t catch a cold.’
Ava drops to her knees to reach Phoebe’s eyeline. ‘Daddy’s right.’ Ava reaches for Phoebe’s pink bobble and pats her head affectionately. ‘I have a hat, but I left it at work. I better have another glass of this to warm me up.’
‘Oh, we’re just about to go for hot chocolate.’ Phoebe’s face shines beneath the Christmas lights. I know what she’s going to say before she even says it. ‘Do you want to come with us?’ Her invitation is laced with hope, and a hint of a plea.
My heart breaks for her.
This is what’s she’s missing. A female role in her life. Sometimes I wish I had a sister. Someone I could trust to fill that role and never abandon her. Play with her dolls with her. Paint her nails. Take her shopping.
Teagan’s been appearing before bedtime to read a story now and again, but what Phoebe needs is a female to play a stable part in her life.
Ava is not that woman. I’m sure she has a million better things to do than have hot chocolate with my daughter.
I grab Phoebe’s hand, looking anywhere but at Ava. As much as Phoebe would like to spend time with Ava and her friend, I’m sure they can’t wait to escape. ‘Sweetie, Ava probably—’
The weight of Ava’s burning stare forces me to meet her gaze. There’s an unspoken question in her eyes. Like ‘is this okay?’
Why isn't she making her excuses and fleeing?
‘Ava?’ Phoebe persists, tugging the front of Ava’s beautiful, belted coat.
‘If it’s okay with daddy, I’d love to come for hot chocolate.’ Ava’s pupils land on mine, flickering with uncertainty.
‘I need to go anyway.’ Ava’s PA shrugs. ‘I have something I’m supposed to do.’ She downs the remaining mulled wine from her glass and deposits in a neighbouring bin. ‘Well, someone.’ She shoots Ava a wink and bids us goodnight.
I swallow hard. Ava spending time with Phoebe is not a good idea. She’s not my girlfriend. But how can I deny either of them when they seem to have taken an instant like to each other?
‘Daddy, please …’ Phoebe swivels on her heels and grabs both my hands, squeezing them. How can I say no to that face?
Ava taps her boot and takes a sip of her drink while I deliberate. ‘If you’re sure you’ve got time. You’ve probably got millions of other things you’d rather be doing.’
Ava places a protective hand on Phoebe’s shoulder. ‘Actually, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.’
‘Yay!’ Phoebe spins on her heels, and promptly drops one of my hands, only to slip it into Ava’s so she’s cushioned between us.
‘I hope this is okay with you.’ Ava leans into my shoulder.
It shouldn't be, but oddly, it is.
We follow the fairy-lit pathway until we find a stall selling crepes and hot chocolates. Ava stands with Phoebe while I get in line. I need one of those mulled wines. Hot chocolate isn't going to cut it for me tonight. Not unless it’s laced with a double brandy.
The incessant chatter and laughter from Phoebe and Ava carries over the festive carols.
‘I like your lipstick. You’re so pretty.’ Phoebe stares up at Ava awestruck, the two of them are still holding hands.
‘Not as pretty as you, pumpkin.’ Ava touches Phoebe’s button nose with her index finger. ‘If my lips were the same colour as yours, I’d never wear lipstick again.’
Phoebe bounces in her pink furry Ugg boots with glee. ‘Daddy never had a female friend before, you know.’ She has a knowing look about her. For six years old – the kid doesn’t miss a trick.
‘I’m sure daddy has loads of friends. Maybe you just haven't met them.’ Ava’s trying to play down the significance of our ‘friendship’.
Good.
Because as lovely as it is to have both my girls together, ha, my girls – it can’t happen again. I can’t have Phoebe getting attached to any woman I’m sleeping with. Even if she is as amazing as Ava Jackson.
