‘Of course you can,’ Dinah said. ‘And take double staff discount. She was telling me about her big night tonight. We want her to look lovely.’
It wasn’t the hard stuff that made Kiki want to cry, but the kindness that had her blinking back the tears now. ‘Thank you.’
She stepped back into the shop and saw that Ava was already in the changing room. She took a breath. Then another. Determined that when Ava came out of that room, she’d see a mum who was happy for her. Excited to be sharing this with her. Not a mum who was questioning why this all had to be so fucking hard. Why she was so alone in this. Why she couldn’t ever remember it being any other way. Ava had only been a couple of days old when Kev had moved up north, swept away by parents who wanted him to have a ‘fresh start’, as they’d told her when they’d turned up at her door. ‘We don’t want his whole life ruined by this. We won’t shirk his financial responsibilities, but he shouldn’t pay his whole life for one mistake.’
One mistake. That’s what Ava was to them. Not a granddaughter to be proud of. A new member of the family to love.
They’d been true to their word on the finances, but what they didn’t say was that they would use the fact that Kev went on to be a student at university to convince the Child Support Agency that he should only pay the very minimum in child support. It was a pattern that he had followed to this day. The very least he could get away with. The minimum. She’d had to settle for it back then and somehow it had become the story of her life. ‘The very least’ was what she’d received not only from Kev and his parents, but from her own mother too.
And now she saw that’s what she’d got from the guy who had sat next to her at that table in chemistry.
She couldn’t remember exactly when they’d started sleeping together, when they’d gone from friends to lovers. It was after they’d left South Side High School the following summer, and he’d gone to study drama at college full-time, while she went to a different college to train in childcare. It had been a well-thought-out decision. The college had a creche for Ava, and working in education would allow her to have the same holidays as her child as she grew, so that way Kiki wouldn’t have to rely on anyone. And it was just as well, because it was only a couple of years later that he’d come to her flat to tell her he’d been offered a part in a show in London. He loved her, he’d promised, and one day it would be different. When he’d established his career, he’d come back and they could be together. All three of them.
‘Never going to happen,’ her mother would drawl when Kiki would tell her that. ‘You’re living in a fantasy world. None of this is real.’
Kiki had known her mum was wrong, so she’d waited, because she’d believed him. What were her options? Admit she was truly alone? She loved him, and she was an exhausted, skint mum who worked full-time and had lost the few friends she’d had at school, so she had no one to turn to for childcare or to go out with for a glass of wine. But she still had his calls and the faith that they’d be together.
Over the next fifteen years, every time he came back to Glasgow, when they’d sleep together and he’d make the same promises, she’d believed him then too.
Just like Ava believed that her deadbeat dad was buying her the frock that she was wearing right now as she came out of the changing rooms and gave her a twirl.
Kiki knew that she’d had her eye on the pale blue dress for weeks. It had a sweetheart neckline, sleeves that came down to the elbow, and a skater-style skirt that fell in two layers to just above Ava’s knees. She’d paired it with some gleaming white trainers that Kiki knew were bang on trend for the young ones this year. The whole ensemble was perfect. Cool. Trendy. And her daughter looked gorgeous in it.
‘What do you think, Mum?’
What did she think? She thought that even with the staff discount, the dress with the trainers was a hundred pounds. That was all of today’s wages plus her Saturday shift this weekend, and some of the following Saturday too.
But then, hopefully, after tonight, she wouldn’t have to worry about second jobs and bills.
She’d never thought she was the type of person who could give someone an ultimatum: either be with me or there will be a financial price to pay to keep our secrets. But now he had abandoned her. According to social media, there were rumours that he had a girlfriend. And it was clear that there was an overlap between that relationship and the one he’d had with Kiki. He had fame. Money. An image to protect. That meant he had something to lose – just like she’d lost fifteen years waiting for him. So yes, this was where she was now. If he didn’t want her then it was time for him to pay up to protect his new life. Just like she was protecting Ava.
‘I think you should get a bag to match, sweetheart.’
12
GINNY
The theatre smelled the way these buildings always did in the daytime – a little bit musty, with overtones of greasepaint, history and grandiosity.
Ginny took in the incredible artwork on the magnificent ceiling, the regal purple velvet of the seats and the violent red of the stage curtain as she walked down the centre aisle towards the four people who were sitting in the front row, just waiting to decide the rest of her life. She took a deep breath and thought about her grandparents. How many times had she sat in these rows with them? Actually, not these rows – they’d never been able to afford the stalls, so they’d watched everything from the lofty rows of the upper gallery. Ginny was pretty sure that was why she’d never been afraid of heights.
As a jobbing actress, she’d landed roles in the annual Christmas panto here several times, but only for parts that earned her name in the small print on the programme, below the main cast and above an advert for solar panels. It was something, and more than some talented actors ever got in a lifetime, because the truth was that stardom and success in this industry came down to so much more than an aptitude for delivering a great line, or a soaring melody. So much of it was being in the right place at the right time, and getting in front of the right people. And, well, luck.
Ginny sent up a silent prayer to the theatre gods that this was one of those moments when all of those stars would collide.
Jeremy Thrisk, the actor who played Jesus, was the first to turn around and notice her approaching. Okay, first hurdle of the day to be navigated with skill and diplomacy. Ginny was well aware that Caden and Jeremy had a fractious relationship that veered on any given day between mutual respect, intense rivalry, sporadic tantrums, artistic differences and occasional accusations that the other one was a diva-tastic tosser. And it probably didn’t help that Caden sold Jeremy out for thirty pieces of silver on stage every night. That had to build some kind of subliminal resentment. Ginny had met him a few times over the years, when she’d come to visit Caden in whatever city the show was running in, and she’d always found him to be pleasant with just a hint of arrogance. This morning, however, he was all smiles and professionalism as he got up to greet her.
‘Ginny! Good to see you,’ he said, while delivering the customary greeting of one kiss on each cheek. It was different from the standard Glaswegian bear hug, but Ginny was happy to adapt.
Jeremy’s presence was almost overwhelming. He was way over six feet tall, with the most stunning bone structure and, unlike the stereotypical Jesus, his hair was cropped to his head, and his dark skin and eyes were positively intoxicating. If this wasn’t a professional setting, and she didn’t have a perfectly wonderful boyfriend, she’d want to stare at his gorgeousness for a few more moments. Thankfully, she didn’t vocalise any of those thoughts and he carried right on, oblivious to her inner monologue.
‘I think you’ve probably met everyone else, but I’ll do the introductions anyway.’
Ginny couldn’t decide if he was being nice, condescending or just trying to get this over with, but whatever his motivations, she was happy to go along with it because it eased her into the process and smoothed her nerves.
‘Carl Boddins, director.’
She’d met Carl a few times and he’d always seemed very distracted and on edge. Not unusual for a director who was a perfectionist. She shook his hand and then moved on to…
