17
Daniel woke the next day with a headache. Not surprising, given the amount he’d had to drink the night before. But he considered it all to be in a good cause. He’d made the most of the opportunity in talking to Finula and Marcus, whom he genuinely liked. Dermot’s words rang in his ears about how the Cavendish-Blake family were good, grounded people. Certainly chatting to Marcus proved this, although it was Tobias who he was desperate to win round over Keeper’s Cottage.
Deciding to strike while the iron was hot, he rang the number of the Treweham estate office, which he’d looked up. Within a few minutes he had been given definite instructions by a well-spoken, extremely efficient-sounding manager. He’d been told to email, giving detail to who he was and why he wanted to speak with Lord Cavendish-Blake, which he had done, after great deliberation. Daniel had tried to pitch the message just right, eager not to appear cheeky or intrusive.
Shutting down his laptop, he sighed. Everything he did and thought seemed to revolve round his future. Once again, the court case that was looming invaded his mind, causing his chest to tighten. Then he tried hard to take deep, steady breaths as he’d been advised. Stress was a killer, he’d come to realise. Yet how could he switch off and not contemplate losing Emily? Because for all Jenna’s shallow reassurances, her taking their little girl to Liverpool would mean hardly ever seeing his daughter. He knew better than to believe or trust anything Jenna promised. He was well aware of how she operated.
He cast his mind back to a few months ago when Jenna had refused point blank to attend any mediation that the court had tried to arrange. Daniel had been more than willing to go, hoping it would encourage some sort of compromise, or at least make Jenna see his point of view, but no she didn’t want to know. He had appointed a solicitor, an expensive one at that, but was prepared to pay whatever the costs to ensure Emily was safe with him, in the only place she’d known. Alana Frost was very cold and hard and didn’t take any prisoners. She specialised in family law and had a sharp, legal mind. Alana had been direct and honest from the start. He pictured himself sat opposite her deadpan face in the tiny attic office of his local solicitors’. After outlining why he was there, a barrage of questions had followed.
‘Is your name on the birth certificate?’
‘Yes, of course,’ he’d replied shocked. ‘Who else’s name would be on it?’
‘Nobody’s. It could be left blank,’ she’d stated flatly. And on it went, question after question regarding his income, lifestyle and parenting. Then she’d focused her questions on the child’s mother. Even her face flickered with emotion when Daniel had summarised, honestly, how Jenna was with Emily. This seemed to open up a can of worms and Alana had leapt into full vigour. ‘Does she take drugs?’
‘No.’ Did she? Would he know? ‘Not that I know of.’ He swallowed. His stomach felt like he’d been punched.
‘Drink?’
‘Yes.’
Alana’s face shot up. ‘How much?’
‘Err… well, quite a lot when she’s on a night out with her friends, but—’
‘How often does she go out?’ she fired, making Daniel swallow again. His mouth had become very dry.
‘Quite often. That’s how she met… John Jones.’
‘What does he do?’
‘He’s a…’ dickhead, thought Daniel, ‘… a musician apparently, he tours the… pubs.’
Alana rolled her eyes. ‘A two-bit singer without a professional job then?’
He was beginning to warm to her now. ‘Yes,’ he replied with force.
Alana nodded her head. ‘Well, I’ll be straight with you,’ she stated, staring into him. Daniel flinched. ‘You’ve got a good case. It won’t be easy – these things never are – but…’ she nodded her head again ‘…I think you’ve got substantial grounds for a Residence Order.’
‘You mean custody, right?’ His heart soared.
‘Yes. But I must counsel patience and, remember, I can’t promise anything.’
‘OK.’ Daniel had been given the first ray of hope since this whole sorry mess had started. He’d been interviewed, as had his parents; there had been visits, child reports and he felt like his whole life had been put under a microscope. Now here he was, frantically trying to build a home and future for himself and Emily.
