The Stepmother (13 page)

“It's okay to find this difficult, you know, Tessa. I find it hard spending the day with my nephew, and I have children.”

“I could certainly survive life without another game of Guess Who?”

“Lulu can sniff out fresh blood like a great white shark,” he said, taking a swig of his beer.

“You could have given me a heads-up.”

He shook his head. “Are you mad? I got to read the whole of the sports section.”

I opened my mouth to respond.

“Tessa, I'm joking. I didn't even buy a paper.”

“Not funny.”

“The therapeutic effects of ironing didn't help, then?”

I swallowed my response with vodka.

“I find it works better if I smack it against my head,” said James.

“I'd happily do that for you.”

He was watching me with a wry smile. “That isn't your sense of humor returning?”

“No chance. It's been eroded by Guess Who?”

“I'd better get you another drink. I'll hope by the fourth round you'll forget all about my demanding children and love me again.”

I drained my glass. “You're in luck. I'm a sucker for punishment.” I handed it back to him empty. “It only took one.”

He held up four fingers. “It was a quadruple.”

So that was the sudden warmth spreading through my solar plexus. “You know me well.”

“I know my children.” He started toward the bar. I called his name and he turned. “I'll get better at this,” I said. “I promise.”

“You don't have to get better at anything. The girls adore you already.”

I shook my head.

“They do, Tessa.”

I couldn't hide the fear in my eyes.

“What?” he asked, watching me.

I swallowed. “They talk about their mum a lot.”

James returned to the table, put his hands on it, and bent down. “Oh, sweetheart, that's
my
fault. I never wanted them to think they couldn't, that it was taboo, that our divorce was their fault. I engineered it that way. I'm sorry. Please try not to take it personally.”

I tried to appear reassured but inside I was wondering, Is that possible? Everything I said, did, ate, wore, how I drove, when I slept, was going to be judged by children who belonged, in essence, to my boyfriend's ex-wife. It couldn't get more personal than this. “I'll try,” I said.

He straightened. “And, Tessa, I don't blame you for needing to go to the bank at three-thirty on a Saturday afternoon, and it's okay with me if you have to go to the bank every Saturday afternoon.” He paused. “Or Sunday. Just while you acclimate.”

I took his hand and kissed it. “How long will that take?”

He held on to my hand. “Forever, I hope.”

 

W
HEN WE GOT HOME, ALL
the lights were on, and I knew immediately that something was wrong. We'd stayed longer than we'd intended, because we were having such a lovely time. James refused to admit his anxiety, but his jaw was tight as he strode up the garden path, kicking up gravel. I trotted behind him, nervous and unsure. We found the girls huddled in our room. James's room. Rapid-fire questions told us that Lulu had been sick and Bea was on her way to collect them.

James was devastated and distraught. He scooped Lulu into his lap. “How are you feeling now?” he asked.

“If you've bumped your head and you're sick, it's very dangerous,” said Amber.

“Why didn't you call me?” James asked.

“I did. Seven times. You didn't answer.”

The phone had been on the table in front of us the whole time. I had insisted. “It never rang,” I said.

She shot me a look. “I must have misdialed,” she retorted.

“Seven times?”

“I pressed redial. I'm sorry, Daddy.”

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.

“When were you sick? Have you been sick again?” asked James, placing his hand on Lulu's forehead.

“I was sick in my tummy.”

“How do you feel now?” he asked.

“Hang on, Lulu, have you been sick?” I asked.

“I thought I was going to be,” she said. Apologetically.

“If you bump your head—”

“Yes, Amber, we heard you the first time. Pass me the phone, please.”

James dialed Bea's mobile number. “Hi, Bea—”

I don't know what she said but she cut him off.

“Hang on, hang on,” he pleaded. “She didn't throw up. She just feels a bit sick—” She cut him off again. “She couldn't have choked, we were only around the cor—” Bea was shouting. Very loudly now. “You're right, it won't happen again. Sorry.” I watched Amber intently. She was staring at her father.

Maddy was yawning, so I took her hand and escorted her back to bed. “Is Mummy coming?” she asked.

“I don't think so. Lulu's fine.”

“I told her not to eat the rice pudding.”

“What rice pudding?”

“The tin Amber gave us. It's very sweet. I don't like it. Lulu does, though. I think she ate the whole lot.” Maddy pointed to an upturned tin under the bed opposite, the discarded spoon welded to the carpet.

I picked it up. “You shouldn't leave food under the bed.”

“Mummy does,” said Maddy.

“I very much doubt it.” I lifted the sticky tin off the floor.

“Don't say I told. Midnight feasts are supposed to be secret.”

“Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. Now cuddle in, little one.”

“Nigh'-nigh', Tessa.” She curled up, stuck her thumb into her mouth, gathered the sheet in her fist, and fell asleep.

As I shut the door, James walked down the corridor, his arm around Amber. I put the tin behind my back. “Bea's not coming,” he said. “False alarm.”

False, certainly. I walked past them without saying anything. I didn't dare. The effects of the vodka had passed the rosy stage and moved into the black. In our bed, Lulu had fallen asleep. I turned off the light and went to the window to draw the curtains. Outside on the pavement, I watched a couple weave up the street laughing and kissing. That had been us a few moments ago. Opposite, a lone woman was standing by a nondescript car. She appeared to be staring straight up at me. I could tell from the way her large, round shoulders were shuddering that she was crying. Was that Bea? Perhaps she saw me move closer for a better look, because suddenly she lunged for the car door and climbed inside. Briefly, the interior light illuminated her face. I sighed with relief. The sad fat lady was nothing like Bea.

 

O
N
S
UNDAY MORNING
, I'
M ASHAMED
to say, I woke up in my studio on the river, with a man beating hard on his warning drums in my head. But I wasn't taking heed. I couldn't go around to Billie's again, so I turned up at Al and Claudia's house. Claudia, Al, and I have been friends since secondary school, and they therefore had no choice but
to let me in. I'm sure they'd have preferred to remain in bed with each other and the papers, but it was an emergency. Because they had no children, I knew I'd get their undivided attention as well as the unconditional sympathy I was looking for. I kept forgetting we were a bit long in the tooth for that.

“So, then what happened?”

“Let's put it like this. It didn't end well,” I said.

“That is self-evident, Tessa, since you're sitting in our flat bitching about James and the girls when you should be with them,” said Al.

“I'm not bitching.”

Claudia picked at a croissant. “Maybe she really was scared. Amber's only fourteen. You left her with quite a big responsibility.” Claudia was genetically programmed to see the best in people.

“The girls were asleep. We were at the end of the road.”

“But they weren't asleep.”

“Because Amber woke them up!”

“You don't know that.”

“Claudia, whose side are you on?”

“Yours, of course. Which is why I don't think you should blow this out of proportion. She panicked when her sister felt ill and called her mum. It's what kids do. She probably didn't even try James's number.”

“It was plastered all over the fridge.”

“Exactly. She was embarrassed because she'd forgotten what she was supposed to do. Then it was too late to back out, so she exaggerated Lulu's illness and, to give credence to her story, mentioned how Lulu had banged her head. Otherwise she'd look foolish—worse, childish. And no fourteen-year-old wants that.”

I opened and closed my mouth, like a goldfish. I could just about see the logic in it. Then I recalled Amber's beautiful face huddled in the crook of my boyfriend's arm and shook my head. “She's out to get me.”

“Don't be ridiculous. She's fourteen.”

“Going on…well, fifteen, which is bad enough, these days.”

“Now who's being childish?” said Al.

Claudia put a restraining hand on her husband's leg. “Tessa has a right to be upset.”

“No, she hasn't. They went to the pub. Why couldn't they have stayed
at home and had a drink? She drank too much, then when it all calmed down she decided to have more to drink and tell James everything that was wrong with his parenting skills.”

“He spent nearly an hour ‘settling' her.” I mimed the quotation marks, still furious a fourteen-year-old required so much “settling.” “It wasn't like that.”

“I'm sure he didn't feel as if you were lecturing him when you told him he indulged his daughter.”

“All I said was he couldn't see what was in front of his eyes.” To be honest, I couldn't remember exactly what I'd said. Al was right. The half-bottle of wine had not improved my mood or my memory.

“You spent a few hours with him and his children, then decided in your arrogance that you could do it better. No wonder he let you leave.”

“Al!”

“Personally, I think you've both been stupid about this,” he said, un-abashed. “You were a secret until a couple of weeks ago and now, suddenly, you're moving in! Amber may have it in for you and she'd be entitled to, frankly, but she probably doesn't even know she's doing it. Who are you? She doesn't know you. You should have given her a lot longer than this to get to know you. How would you feel if you walked into your father's room and there was some random bird in it, wearing his T-shirt, being called ‘darling'?”

“I'm not a random bird,” I said.

“You are to her. Ask Ben how it feels. It happened to him enough times.”

Our other oldest friend Ben had a mother who had taken women's liberation to new heights and hidden none of her conquests from her young son. “Al, that's enough,” said Claudia.

“James is nothing like Ben's mother,” I said, offended. “I'm the first person since his divorce he's taken home.”

Al's face said it all.

“I am,” I insisted.

“Either way, it makes no difference. You're the adult here. Act like one. Go back and sort it out. And apologize, too, for leaving at the first hint of trouble.” He left the room.

I expected Claudia to apologize for her husband's mood, but she didn't. “He's right, you know. You left James having to explain to the girls why this morning you're not there. What does that tell him and them? If the girls make a mistake, willful or otherwise, you're gone. Every parent knows that children need consistency. If I were him, the alarm bells would be ringing. So, be careful. If he's the man you think he is, he'll protect those kids even if it means he doesn't get the girl of his dreams.”

The winds of anger dropped and my momentum trickled away.

“And that would be a shame, Tessa, because I've seen you together. I think you are the girl of his dreams and he's absolutely perfect for you.”

My phone rang. Salt-and-pepper Man. I was afraid to answer. Claudia pressed receive and passed it to me. “No games,” she whispered firmly, and left me alone on the sofa.

 

“S
O
?”
SHE ASKED, WHEN
I walked into the kitchen ten minutes later.

“I apologized profusely and promised it would never happen again.”

“Well done. Not easy.”

“Easier than I'd thought it would be. You're both right. Leaving was stupid. It's the sort of thing you do in your teens. He was characteristically gracious about it.”

“Of course. He's a decent bloke,” said Al. Which meant a lot to me, because they don't come better than Al.

I nodded.

“So what are you going to do?”

“He's taking the girls swimming.”

“You'd better get going.”

“I think it's best if I leave them alone for the day.”

“Bollocks,” said Claudia, “and you know it. Where's your spine, girl? You've got to face the music.”

“I haven't got a swimsuit.”

“Borrow mine.”

“Honey, you're half my height.”

“Cow.” She narrowed her eyes. “I never liked you.”

I laughed. “Ditto.”

“Go on, bugger off,” said Claudia.

I found I was rooted to the spot. “I'm nervous,” I said.

“Good,” said Al, looking up from the paper. “Nerves mean you're not sure about what you're doing, which means you might tread a little more cautiously from now on.”

“I apologized, Al. Everything you said was right. Please lay off me a bit?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I happen to agree with my wife. You and James are great together and I want to see this work for all of you. But there's no point in pretending it'll be easy.”

I ran my hands through my hair. “Bloody hell, is it always this complicated?”

Al and Claudia looked at each other. “Yes,” they said in unison, and smiled sadly but with love. Al and Claudia knew all about complications. They couldn't have children. “Now, stop procrastinating and get thee to a swimming pool.”