Blackberry Picking at Jasmine Cottage. Zara Stoneley
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‘It was fine.’ Her tone was light. ‘But I get how it feels for Maisie right now.’
‘I know.’ He looked straight into her clear blue eyes. ‘I’m not giving up, but our whole living arrangements, everything, is a mess.’ That much at least had occurred to him, and it was something he had the power to change. ‘I can’t run a busy surgery, and look after a child properly,’ he paused and looked at her, ‘on my own. I feel so bloody guilty every time I have to rush off.’
Lucy smiled. ‘Guilt’s an important part of being a parent.’
He shook his head. ‘Very funny. It’s not fair on either of us though. I don’t want her pushed from pillar to post while I’m working, or left to play on her own.’
‘No,’ she squeezed his hand. ‘She’s too young. When I was her age I hated it.’
‘Is that how it was when you and your mum moved?’
‘It is. I was a couple of years older than Maisie, but I’d been used to having Mum around. I felt,’ she paused, ‘abandoned.’
He stared back bleakly. That was the last thing he wanted Maisie to feel.
‘I mean, it is a bit different for Maisie, because Mum had always been at home for me, she didn’t work after I was born, until …’
‘You moved?’
She nodded. ‘Maisie’s used to you and Josie working, isn’t she? What did you do before?’
‘Her old primary school was part of an academy trust, they had after school clubs, breakfast clubs, it was a big set up. It’s different in Langtry Meadows.’
‘Back at Starbaston, the last school I taught at, they had much the same. But she’s used to doing that, so why not get somebody to help you out? It’s not admitting failure, everybody does it. There must be somebody in the village who’d be glad of a few extra pennies. Somebody with kids?’
Why hadn’t he thought of that? Why had he decided that looking after Maisie was totally his responsibility, that he owed it to her to try and do it all by himself?
‘Oh God, you know what? I’ve been an idiot haven’t I? I’ve been as guilty as Maisie of treating this as an extension of the holidays, and not looking at this long term. No wonder she’s not settled.’
They both stared into their drinks for inspiration.
‘What about Becky?’
‘Sorry?’ The name didn’t immediately ring a bell with him.
‘Becky, the teacher I took over from. I mean she’s not bothered about money, but I’m pretty sure she’d be glad of a break from just looking after her baby, and she’d be brilliant with Maisie, and I bet Maisie would love helping with the baby. Children her age like to help with little ones.’
‘But,’ he hesitated, ‘I don’t want it to look like I’m copping out, that I can’t cope.’ That was still his problem. He’d failed on his own life, failed in his marriage. If he failed on this, he could lose his daughter for ever. ‘I need to prove that I can look after her. I got this.’ He pulled the copy of the email out of his pocket and handed it over. This was what it came down to. One short email.
Lucy smoothed the paper out, not looking at it. ‘But letting people help is looking after her Charlie. Nobody is expected to do it on their own, and you’re doing your best.’
‘I know, but read it. It’s from Josie. She wants a divorce.’
Lucy sobered up, and picked up the piece of paper, which from the look of it he’d been folding and unfolding as though he didn’t know quite what to do with it.
She’d been feeling on a bit of a high at the end of the school day after the Ofsted team had left and had missed Charlie’s agitation when he’d first arrived, but now it was evident. He looked worn out, his face tinged grey. And she was pretty sure it wasn’t just the normal ups and downs of being a parent. Whatever he said, Charlie was made of sterner stuff. He’d never let his daughter down if he could help it.
‘I’m worried, Lucy. It’s not the actual divorce, that’ll be a relief in a way, but she’s playing games again over Maisie. I thought we’d got a truce, that we’d worked a solution out. You know, that when she comes back to the UK she’d get a place nearby and Maisie wouldn’t have to be uprooted again. We’d share the arrangements.’ He ran his fingers through his hair in the agitated way that was so familiar to her. She put a hand over his, but the ache of dread inside her grew. This was what had been worrying her, eating away inside her. But she had to be the calm one here. ‘That’s what she said. But I don’t know, the whole tone of this spells trouble.’
‘Are you sure?’ Lucy searched his face, but all she could see was worry. Charlie wasn’t one to overreact. And Lucy still couldn’t quite work out what she thought about Charlie’s ex. From what Charlie had told her about their break-up, Josie had seemed pretty callous. There probably wasn’t a nice way to tell a man that his daughter probably wasn’t biologically his, but doing it as you walk through the door and suggesting he never see her again was bad by anybody’s standards. But then when she’d brought Maisie in to Langtry Meadows Primary School in the spring, telling Charlie his daughter missed him, needed him, Lucy thought she was seeing the real Josie. The caring side, the side that was putting her daughter first.
Until she’d announced the real reason – that she wanted Charlie to look after Maisie while she worked abroad, ignoring her responsibilities.
And now this.
Lucy wanted to tear her hair out and scream, but instead took a deep breath.
Either the woman was incredibly selfish, or there was far more to this than Lucy and Charlie realised. Lucy’s heart ached for the man and his daughter. She loved both of them, she wanted them to be happy, and as hard as she tried, taking a detached view of this was impossible.
‘Read it, tell me what you think.’ He touched the very edge of the sheet of paper. ‘When she comes back she’s going to take Maisie away again.’
‘Only if we let her.’ Lucy felt her throat dry. She’d seen the state Charlie had been in when he’d thought he’d lost his daughter before – when he’d returned to Langtry Meadows heartbroken. It had taken a long time for him to confide in her, admit what Josie had done, that she’d told him he’d be in the wrong trying to see his daughter.
He’d jumped at the opportunity to see her again, to have her stay with him.
Neither of them had seen this on the horizon. And not so soon.
Lucy scanned the words as he spoke, we need closure … I feel we need to formalise arrangements for Maisie and think about what she will want as she gets older … I miss her … this was just a temporary solution … better with her mother … I’ve spoken to my solicitor.
‘She’s just been using me, Lucy, so she could have six months off gallivanting and living her dream.’ His voice was tinged with bitterness. ‘She’ll come back and try to push me out of their lives again, won’t she? Disrupt Maisie, do exactly what she wants.’
Lucy’s stomach felt hollow as she looked at him. ‘She can’t do that to you, or to Maisie.’
‘Can’t she?’
When Lucy had first met Charlie, he’d spent months struggling to put his life back together. He’d always been prepared to fight for his right to see Maisie – whether she was his or not – but then when Josie had unexpectedly offered an olive branch, his life had picked up. ‘But surely any court would see you’ve been a father to her? That you’re looking after her now? She can’t just stop you seeing her.’ The unspoken question that neither of them knew