“Really? Cool.” Roger bobbed his head looking suitably impressed. “That’s great, isn’t it, Ali?”
“Yes,” Ali croaked. “Fantastic.”
An uncomfortable silence followed and as I watched each of the family members standing in front of me, I knew things were definitely not perfect in this garden of roses.
Ali’s hand clung to the strap of her bag as her gaze drifted to the side, while Roger looked at me with dull eyes, his daughter’s arms firmly around his neck.
“You still swim?” he asked.
I glanced at Alison, wondering whether his question would pique her interest, but there was nothing – no indication that she was even listening.
“No,” I responded, suddenly desperate to get away. “Haven’t done for years.”
My response was short, even though I knew I could have said much more like; no your wife took my love of swimming away from me when she seduced me, when I was too young to know any better. Or maybe; no I can’t bear the thought of it since the smell of chlorine reminds me too much of losing my virginity in a fucking changing room surrounded by life buoys and rusty lockers. Nope, there was nothing else I could say.
Weirdly, Roger didn’t ask why or mention whether or not Ali still coached. He glanced at her and I wondered if he knew, if maybe she’d done it again and this time been caught. I didn’t care though, looking at her now I realised I had no feelings whatsoever for her.
Hah – how ironic was that? She’d ruined my fucking life, blackened my heart, and I felt nothing for her – no love, no hatred, no pity, nothing.
“I’d better go anyway,” I said, half-turning. “Need to get back to the office.”
“Well great to see you, Sam,” Roger said.
Alison finally looked up at me and gave me a thin lipped smile. “Bye, Sam.”
I didn’t reply but simply raised a hand and walked away. As I did, I felt a little lighter knowing that even though she’d already changed me and my life, Alison no longer had a hold over me. I was done. My hatred was gone after one innocent little meeting. That’s all it had taken and I wondered if we’d met up a few years earlier if things might have been different with Maisie and me.
It didn’t matter though, there was no point thinking it because the deal was done – I had a hard heart and nothing was changing it.
Maisie
the present
I was such a stupid, stupid idiot. What the hell had made me think it was okay to agree to Sam giving Frankie one on one swimming lessons? What planet was I from that I could possibly think Frankie spending more time with Sam was a great idea?
I’d been grateful to Sam for coming to my rescue the night before and while I knew it probably wasn’t the best idea, him staying over, I did feel much safer knowing that he was in the house. Which was ridiculous in itself. I’d allowed a practical stranger to sleep under the same roof as my child. A child that I cherished more than life itself.
I knew he’d have had all the appropriate checks done, otherwise he wouldn’t be allowed to give swimming lessons, but if I was being honest, that hadn’t even entered my head when he’d told me he was staying over. When I saw Frankie sleeping on the floor next to him, my only emotion had been happiness for my son. There was no fear, anger, or resentment, just pure joy at seeing them together.
I should have screamed with fury that he thought it was okay to waltz into Frankie’s life, eight years too late. Any normal mother would have told him to back off the moment she realised he was her son’s new swimming coach – but no, not me, Maisie West who lived in fairy tale land and thought that unicorns and mermaids existed and that fairies granted bloody wishes.
All I could think was ‘oh my god, Frankie is with his dad’.
Now to top it all off, the damn man was concentrating all his efforts on showing Frankie how to do the front crawl, and with each movement the hard, contoured muscles in his back stretched and pulsed liked a perfectly timed machine. Each sinew and muscle working with the next and creating perfection.
Sam was tall and sculpted and stood out among the rest of the men in the pool. His broad shoulders and slim waist, typical of a swimmer, despite the fact that I knew he hadn’t swum competitively for years. Frankie had inherited a similar shape, but whereas my boy still had a little chubbiness at his waist, Sam was lean. As for his tattoos, he had many more than the single one he’d had all those years ago. Now his arms, chest, and back were a myriad of pictures, each one moving fluidly whenever he stretched or flexed a muscle. He was magnificent, and I hated him for it because I couldn’t take my eyes off him when I wasn’t watching Frankie.
It pissed me off that after all the years that had passed Sam still had an effect on me. Years where I should have hated him and taught Frankie to hate him too, but I’d never been able to because he’d never lied to me. Okay, the day I had Frankie, Sam had acted like a pure, unadulterated prick, but he’d never given me false promises and had always provided for his son, up until Josh had insisted we stop taking the money. Part of me always wondered if I hadn’t insisted on the secrecy around Frankie’s DNA, whether Sam might have come around eventually, but deep down I’d known he probably wouldn’t have. That was why I’d insisted that no one ever knew, that way I would never be disappointed or spend my life hoping and Frankie would never feel let down that he didn’t have the relationship with his father that he deserved. It was also why I’d always told my son his dad went away before he knew about Frankie and I had no idea where to find him. One day when, or even if, I told him the truth, Frankie would probably hate me for it, but I hoped above all else he’d understand that I was protecting him.
I continued to watch the pool from my seat in the café and almost screamed when I saw Frankie flying through the air.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, causing a lady who was knitting to look up.
Halfway out of my seat, I paused as Frankie landed with a splash in the water. I held my breath waiting and watching, only releasing it when seconds later he appeared with a huge smile on his face. I could see that he was laughing as he swam toward Sam. I let out the breath and plopped back into my seat, placing a shaking hand over my thudding heart.
“Your partner seems to enjoy giving you a heart attack, love,” the knitting lady said. “But your little boy is loving it though.”
I glanced at her and then back to the pool, watching as Sam launched Frankie once more.
