“I wanted to take you for lunch if you’re free,” Michael said.
“I can hang out with Poppy and make her lunch then walk her to holiday club,” offered Layla.
“Oh, thank you,” said Carrie. “What do you think, Poppy?”
“Are you big enough to make me lunch?” Poppy asked Layla, making everyone laugh.
“It depends what you’d like,” Layla said.
“Can you make beans on toast?” Poppy questioned.
“That I can manage.”
Poppy turned to her mother. “I’d like Layla to make me lunch.”
“OK, I’ll see you after holiday club then, Pumpkin.” Carrie gave her daughter a hug. “Have fun.”
She left Layla with a set of keys to the shop and she and Michael went next door to The First Sip, waving at Nat and Sam, who were coming up the high street on their lunch break.
The coffee shop was busy but there was a table left near the back which they grabbed and Michael went up to the counter to order them coffees and toasted sandwiches.
Carrie watched him talking to Lucy. She realised she felt nervous. She was pretty sure from his text message and how he was speaking to her now that he wasn’t angry with her and didn’t think she’d been interfering in his relationship with his daughter, but she couldn’t be absolutely certain.
He returned to the table with her latte and his Americano.
“I wanted to properly thank you,” he said as he sat down. “Layla and I had a really good chat after she talked with you. She said you’d convinced her to speak to Georgia and we’re both really grateful.”
“I’m just so glad she felt able to talk to me about it,” said Carrie.
“So am I. It’s been eating away at her for weeks now,” Michael said. He took a sip of his coffee. “I took her to see her mum yesterday evening and Layla told her everything. I don’t know what Georgia plans to do, but she was completely supportive of Layla, just wishing she’d felt able to say something sooner. I think she feels she’s failed because Layla didn’t come to her for help.”
“It was a really difficult situation and fifteen-year-olds don’t always make the best decisions,” said Carrie. “Plus, it’s not easy to talk to your parents when you’re a teenager.”
“I guess so.” Michael looked down at his coffee.
“What is it?” Carrie asked, instinctively putting her hand on his.
“I didn’t have parents as a teenager,” Michael said, quietly. “Well, not my biological parents anyway. I didn’t know my father. My mother brought me up on a little farm two miles outside of town. She died when I was twelve.”
“Oh, Michael, I’m so sorry! I had no idea.” Carrie felt her heart tug at the thought of what he’d been through.
“Why would you?” he said with a little shrug. “It’s not something I shout from the rooftops, though most people around here know, because... well... small town.”
“That must have been so hard,” Carrie said. She was devastated for him. She couldn’t blame him for not saying anything before, but she’d felt like she knew him and this came as a huge shock to her.
“It was. She was ill for a couple of years before she died. Breast cancer. Anyway, everyone around here was amazing looking after me, and... um... Peter adopted me.”
“How did I not know about this?”
“You must have been, what seven or eight when my mum died? I can’t imagine your aunt and uncle thought it a suitable topic of conversation.”
“Maybe not, but . . . I feel like I should have known . . .”
“I’m kind of glad you didn’t. So many people around here still treat me with kid gloves because I was the little orphan. It was nice that you... thought I was just an idiot with an out-of-control dog!”
Carrie smiled. “I never thought you were an idiot.”
“The main reason I decided to move back here after Georgia and I broke up was because I knew what an amazing support system I’d have with not just Peter, but the whole town as I navigated bringing up Layla. That being said, it can get a little intense when everyone is looking out for you. That’s actually why Dylan and I are friends. He was in foster care after he was taken away from his parents as a toddler, so he was another tragedy case.”
