‘She… she’s not taken it well. She’s angry right now. At me. At her…’
He drains his glass again, twists off the top of the bottle I bought, topping up his glass. I’ve not seen him like this for a long time. Spence isn’t a big drinker, he’s a few glasses with dinner kind of guy, maybe a few pints on a night out.
I fold my arms and lean back as I try to imagine the two of them together. Now. As adults. But then I think of my friend, a crying baby in his arms.
Spence’s voice is quiet as he continues. ‘What… if I let her in, let her get to know Georgia and she bolts again?’ He looks up at me, my anger dissipating as I see the look of fear in his eyes, and despite my anger and hurt, I want to console him.
‘When Ryan left, I was scared of…’
‘Not everything is about you, Al!’
I blink, sitting back sharply. He shakes his head, pushing the glass away. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean…’
‘It’s OK. You’re upset.’
‘I’m not upset. I’m fuckingterrified.’ His voice shakes with the words.
Georgia’s feet stomp on the floor above, her door slamming against its frame.
I look at Spence, at his glassy eyes and the way he looks hollowed out.
‘I’ll go. You order us some food. I’ll ask her if she wants something to eat.’
I stand and rest a hand on his shoulder, warm and strong beneath my cold palm. He leans his head against my hand. Reaching down tentatively, my hand drops to his soft curls. An image flashes behind my eyes of the last time I had his hair in my hands.
I step back.
My phone buzzes with a notification, the screen flickering into action. He looks down at the photo of Michael that I have as my wallpaper, tension fixed in his shoulders as he pulls away, nodding to the screen. When he finally speaks his voice is calm again. ‘Hadn’t you better get that?’ he asks. ‘It might be from your dream man.’
I don’t look at my phone, instead, I leave the room and tentatively knock on Georgia’s door.
‘Yeah?’ She’s sitting propped up against her grey headboard, curls untamed around her shoulders. The room is so different to the one where I had patted her back, her warm body arched against my chest as I sat in the second-hand rocking chair Spence had got from the charity shop not far from here. That space holds a large wardrobe instead. Her school blazer is hanging off the handle, tie and school shoes discarded on the floor. This room held our first attempts at decorating, pale lilac walls, skirting boards where some of the gloss leaked above onto the paint. Now, those lilac walls are a pristine white, the space where her cot sat now has a large flatscreen on the wall, an Xbox sitting beneath. The teddy bear banner that ran around the middle of the room replaced by posters of bands I don’t recognise.
‘Hi, button, how you doing?’
She puts her phone face down on the duvet, and shifts, eyes focused back on the TV where someone is talking to the screen rapidly, contouring their face with a small sponge.
‘Fine,’ she says, eyes fixed on the screen. ‘Hungry. Did he send you to talk to me?’
I don’t miss the way she’s referring to Spence. As though he’s no longer the person who she followed around, gigglingDaddy, Daddy, look at me! I clamp down the urge to defend the man who has tried so hard to be the best father, and mother, he could be.
Give her space.
I don’t bite.
‘We’re about to order some food…’
‘About time,’ she snaps, hand reaching for the controller, the Fortnite loading screen appearing in place of the make-up tutorial she was just watching. She lifts her headset and slides it on. ‘Yeah,’ she speaks to someone inside her headset. ‘I’m just…’ She sighs loudly. ‘Because my Wi-Fi is shit.’
She glances at me again, almost daring me to correct her language. When she doesn’t see a flicker of a reaction, she pulls an ear free. ‘Was there anything else?’
‘No… I?—’
She doesn’t respond, her body primed to show that she’s engrossed in her game even though I can feel the desperation for some kind of reaction from me.
I close the door, but not before I hear her saying, ‘Thank God for that. Nothing. Just my dad’s friend who only comes round when she wants something.’
Her words almost floor me. Is that really what she thinks? For a fleeting moment I wonder if this is something she’s overheard Spence saying. I push the thought away. She’s going through a tough time. It’s natural she’s starting to push the boundaries.
