Reach for the Stars Page 23

  ‘You must have been devastated.’ It was a major letdown and an explanation for throwing herself into a just-for-fun fling, but how could he sympathize when he was the one who’d been damaged? ‘But why keep our child a secret from me? Didn’t you think I had a right to know?’ All the anger he’d bottled up in the weeks since he’d found out broke his control. ‘We weren’t serious. I didn’t expect us to last any more than you did, but for all that, I fell hard for you. I’m gutted to look back knowing that you didn’t believe I could step up to the plate.’ He hadn’t told her, it would have been too uncool, but the feelings he’d had were real, and if he’d known he was nothing more than moving on sex, he’d have held back, the way he’d been doing ever since.

  ‘I wasn’t ready to find someone new, someone reliable, start a family – all the things I’d planned for. I was in a different space.’

  ‘It didn’t stop you having the baby and shutting me out. You’ve taken something away from me I can’t get back. Eleven years of my child’s life? Have you any idea how bad that feels?’ The chaos of his emotions crashed into him.

  She put her hand on his arm, and he didn’t flinch or back away. He didn’t resent her, didn’t hold this against her, but the knowledge that she’d chosen to freeze him out tortured him.

  ‘You had an absolute right to know. I regret my choices. I don’t have any words to defend myself. By the time I found out, you’d gone to LA. I didn’t tell anyone who the father was. Time went by and being alone got easier. I had lots of support from family. And Beth is the sweetest child anyone could wish for. It’s not that I didn’t think about getting in touch … I’d see pieces in the tabloids, and get cold feet. We were only together for a few weeks, I didn’t really know you.’

  ‘And being Beth’s dad doesn’t count for anything?’

  ‘I put it down to contraceptive failure.’ Her voice faltered. ‘My failure. I’d taken antibiotics for a throat infection and the midwife reckoned they must have reduced the effectiveness of my pill. When I discovered I was pregnant I realized I desperately wanted a baby. It wasn’t something we’d discussed. I saw her as my responsibility. I decided not to ask you for anything.’ Her hair flopped into her eyes and she pushed it back behind her ears with trembling hands. ‘Look I wouldn’t blame you if walk away but I really hope you won’t.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ He set his mug down and folded his arms across his chest, his concerns about Beth meeting him after so long still strong. ‘When did she find out I’m her dad?’

  ‘A couple of months ago. She’s pestered me for a name the last couple of years. I got very good at avoiding the question.’ She turned away. ‘I didn’t feel good about it. She’d get upset during the dad’s race at school Sports Days. Her granddad used to enter in place of a dad, but he always came last and it made her so miserable that I had to ask him not to come this summer. Worse than that, every year the school fair was on Father’s Day and she didn’t have one.’

  The image she painted of a little girl who desperately needed a dad cracked his heart. As difficult as the situation was, its biggest impact was on Beth.

  ‘This scare’s been awful. The lump’s removed, everything’s okay. We can go over the past and what’s brought us to where we are a million times and it won’t change anything. Keeping her from you is indefensible. I’m genuinely sorry Nick. Honestly.’

  The bitterness he’d been fighting with full-scale denial for the last few weeks began to diminish, cancelled out by Fran’s remorse.

  ‘Let’s look on the bright side,’ he said. ‘We should grateful for being forced to face up to this. For Beth’s sake.’

  She turned back to face him and paused for half a moment, regret written on her face. ‘And yours. I want to sort it out.’

  Cautious, but trusting Fran’s readiness to make amends, he asked, ‘So why wouldn’t she see me last time?’

  ‘Any number of reasons. Because she’s confused. Because she’s missed out on having a dad. Because she needs you to prove that you want to be part of her life. Not just because I asked you to – but because you really care.’ She started walking towards the kitchen door. ‘Come here.’

  He followed her across the wide chandelier-lit hallway to the dining room. The long mahogany dining table that wouldn’t have looked out of place in a stately home was covered in Beth-related memorabilia – photo albums, school reports, a favorite teddy, souvenirs collected on holidays. His heart swelled and he didn’t fight it.

  ‘We got this lot ready for you. She’s been adding to it all week.’

  He picked up two tiny red shoes. ‘Lucky your dining table’s so big.’

  She laughed. ‘Her first shoes. Would you like me to talk you through it? Believe me. I’ve wanted to make this as easy as possible. The last few weeks have been horrendous.’

  For more than an hour Fran reminisced about the collection, from photos of Beth’s first baby smiles to the picture of delight on her face at her eleventh birthday, a retro themed dance party, complete with deejay, disco lights, glitter ball, and all thirty of her classmates. Spread out in front of him, he absorbed moment after moment of his daughter’s life. Dying to meet her for real, it was hard to take in; gymnastics certificates, swimming badges, an award for tap dancing.

  Eventually Fran sat back in her chair and looked at her watch. ‘That’s enough for now I think,’ she said, ‘Beth can show you the rest later.’ She leaned in and squeezed his hand. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘it’s time to go get her.’

  Parked around the corner from the school he waited for Fran to bring Beth to the car. His fear and reluctance had morphed into better feelings – ones he couldn’t pin down. Excitement. Joy. He couldn’t wait to meet his daughter.

  When she hopped in, shoving her backpack onto the empty seat beside her, he turned and looked at her.

  ‘Hey.’

  Shy, she smiled. ‘Hi.’

  Fran slid into the front passenger seat. ‘Pop your seatbelt on hun,’ she instructed. To Nick she said matter-of-factly, ‘Turn left at the end of the road, take the second exit at the big roundabout, drive up the hill, you’ll see the car park for the pizza place on the right. It’s not far, two miles tops.’

  The people in the restaurant were friendly. They knew Fran and Beth and showed them to their favorite table. They ordered drinks and then Beth disappeared to change out of her school uniform in the Ladies’.

  ‘So what do you make of our little girl?’

  ‘She’s great. I don’t know what I was expecting. Big introductions! Big emotions!’ The emotions lay below the surface alongside a side-order of relief.

  ‘I was hardly going to make a dramatic announcement. Meet your father!’ she teased. ‘Parents are embarrassing enough.’

  He smiled, happy to follow her lead. ‘I appreciate your no fuss approach. How am I doing?’

  She reached across the table and touched his hand. ‘Brilliant.’

  ‘Is there anyone I should know about,’ he asked. ‘A significant other?’

  She shook her head. ‘She’s a little young for a boyfriend.’

  He hammed a comedic shudder. ‘I meant you.’

  She laughed. Her eyes sparkled. ‘There’s no one. Just me and Beth. And my work. That’s how I like it. It’s enough.’

  ‘For now.’

  ‘We have a lot of catching up to do.’

  ‘It could take all night.’ He smiled, keeping it light, determined to make a go of it. ‘By the time the hospital drama we worked on aired you’d finished with me. How long ago was that?’

  ‘Too long,’ she sighed. ‘Twelve years.’

  When Beth joined the table, she’d transformed to a super trendy tween.

  ‘What are you two having?’ She shuffled onto the bench next to her mum. ‘I’d like bruschetta, a quattro stagioni pizza and pistachio gelato with chocolate sauce for dessert.

  After the meal they skipped coffee. Nick asked for the bill and drove them home so Beth could tackle
her homework. Perched on a high stool at the kitchen island she worked away at English, Maths and Geography while Fran and Nick had a glass of red wine and chatted about the other people in the show they’d worked on and what had happened to them since.

  ‘I can’t do this. It’s difficult.’ Nick turned to see his daughter staring sadly at a French textbook.’

  ‘What’s the problem?’ Fran asked.

  ‘I hate French. We have to revise the difference between être and avoir. I don’t get it.’ Beth slumped over her book in frustration. ‘I can’t tell the difference.’

  ‘Can’t help hun,’ Fran said, ‘Not a clue. French wasn’t my best subject.’

  ‘Can I help?’ Nick offered. ‘I’ve been working in France. My French isn’t exactly brilliant, but I know the basics.’

  Beth pushed the book towards him, eyes wide and hopeful. Nick studied the questions. Twelve sentences to complete, six using each verb. Thankfully his rusty schoolboy French was up to the task. ‘So,’ he said, ‘“To be”…’

  ‘Or not to be,’ Fran interrupted.

  ‘That’s not helpful Mum, shush.’ Beth complained.

  ‘Let’s have a go at one of these questions.’

  Encouragingly Nick helped her translate the questions and patiently waited while she wrote the answers into her exercise book. Hesitantly she passed it across the worktop for him to check.

  ‘Brilliant. You nailed it.’

  ‘It’s not as difficult as I thought.’ She looked up at him and smiled confidently. ‘Thanks Nick.’

  The homework finished, they all went to view the impromptu museum of childhood in the dining room. Overwhelmed once more, Nick was relieved when Fran suggested that it was time for Beth to get off to bed.

  ‘Say goodnight to Nick,’ she said.

  Beth looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Would it be alright if I call you Dad?’

  Staggered, Nick couldn’t believe his ears. His heart felt suddenly too big for its allocated space in his chest. The instinctive connection he felt blindsided him. ‘Of course you can.’

  Beth approached, put her arms around his middle and gave him a hug. Automatically he hugged her back. ‘I’ve been waiting for you,’ she said. ‘I’m happy you’re here.’

  ‘Me too. I’m sorry I’m late. I’m sorry I missed you growing up. But I want you to know, I’m here for you now, and I will be – always.’

  A second later she asked if he could get her on the guest list to a London premiere and he said yes, discovering that he could deny his daughter nothing. It was a great feeling. Fran scolded her gently for being cheeky and scooted her off to bed.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said smiling. ‘I told her not to.’

  He laughed. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  ‘Stay for another glass of wine. You’re welcome to stay over – if you like.’ It would be so easy. Fran was more attractive now than she’d ever been. They had a daughter together. It was hard to imagine anything more important than that. She picked up the bottle of wine. ‘It’s an awfully good vintage,’ she coaxed, ‘Like me.’

  ‘You’re as incorrigible as ever.’

  ‘You never were any good at saying no.’ Her voice was as gentle as a cat’s purr. ‘What if we let bygones be bygones?’ She moved so whisperingly close her strong perfume wound through him. He hadn’t registered her gold painted toenails and her six-inch heels when he’d arrived, but he was noticing now. ‘Take it slow this time? You could buy a place nearby.’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve been thinking about a UK base.’

  ‘You’re going to need one.’

  ‘It’s all so new,’ he admitted, tempted by her offer of a refill.

  ‘There’s lots to discuss,’ she ventured. ‘Finish the bottle. Call a taxi. Pick up the car in the morning. If you’d prefer not to stay over, that is.’ Her powers of persuasion were superlative. ‘We were fabulous together. We could be again.’

  In twelve years he’d mastered a skillset of his own. But she was his child’s mother and he couldn’t afford to forget it.

  She poured herself another glass waiting for him to make his mind up. ‘I used to tell people you were my candyfloss.’

  He met her smile because she made him laugh, like she’d done before with her crazy ideas. ‘Because I was bad for you?’

  ‘Because you were sweet, and indulgent, and much too much of a good thing.’

  ‘Ah.’ He was lost for words.

  She poured him a glass of wine and he leant in and brushed his face gently against her cheek.

  ‘Goodnight Fran.’

  ‘You can’t blame me for trying.’

  ‘I don’t. I’ll be in touch.’

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  ‘I’ve brought you a magazine.’ Joe assessed Layla with a rapid onceover.

  She was still processing the news of his divorce but glanced at the collection piled on the coffee table. ‘Because I don’t have enough?’

  ‘You look amazing in those.’ He pushed the one he was holding into her hands. ‘This one’s different. Light at the end of the tunnel? See for yourself. Page fourteen. Did you know he has a kid?’

  Grudgingly she flicked to where he said. She failed to ignore Nick’s wayward smile beaming out from between the covers. He’d been photographed accompanying his mother to a red-carpet event with Beth between them smiling as confidently as her dad. The picture knocked her sideways. Tight-lipped she checked the date on the cover.

  ‘Some of the papers slagged you off. Said you’re not good enough for him. If you ask me it’s the other way around – he’s not good enough for you.’

  He sat on sofa in the spot that had always been his. ‘Thanks for that.’ Deflated, defeated she walked over to the under-stairs cupboard eager for him to take his things and leave. Guilt jabbed at her. She changed her mind and sat down next to him. The bag she’d hidden rustled under the cushion behind her back. ‘What happened? With you and Lainy?’

  ‘She left me.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Ophelia had been lying in front of the fireplace. She got up, stretched and pottered across to sit next Layla, leaning against her legs. She reached down and tousled her fur.

  ‘I shouldn’t have got married in the first place. It was a mistake. My parents are furious.’

  ‘Why did you?’

  He sighed, got up and headed for the kitchen. ‘Got any beers?’

  ‘A couple in the fridge.’ She did a double take at her automatic response.

  ‘Want one?’ The familiarity of the sound of Joe opening a drawer to get the bottle opener and popping the top stunned her.

  ‘No!’

  Slugging the beer, he slumped back into the space beside her. ‘I missed you.’

  ‘So you married my double?’

  ‘I know, right?’ He chortled.

  She couldn’t believe her ears. ‘It’s not funny.’

  ‘And that lot is?’ He pointed at the coffee table. ‘I’m back for good. Why don’t we draw a line and start again?’

  ‘You mean, when your divorce comes through?’

  ‘Why wait? The divorce is just a detail.’

  ‘A significant one.’

  Thinking it over, he knocked back another slug of beer and made himself comfortable stretching out his legs in front of the fireplace and crossing them at the ankles. He was settling in as if he was at home. ‘Aren’t you happy? I thought you’d be up for it.’

  ‘You want a second chance?’

  ‘You forget Lainy and I forget … him. It’ll be like they never happened.’

  ‘I can’t forget.’ Her head was spinning. There was one sure way to kill off Joe’s ideas of getting back together. ‘And another thing – I may be pregnant.’

  Flummoxed he stared at her. ‘You’re kidding.’

  ‘I don’t know for sure. I might not be. But the point is – it’s a real possibility. It’s not …’ She hooked her fingers in the air ‘… just a detail!’

  ‘Does he know?’

&nbs
p; She shook her head, sorry she’d said anything.

  ‘Face it. He’s gone. He’s not coming back.’

  She trembled. It was true, but hearing him say it knifed her in the soul. ‘I know,’ she whispered.

  ‘It’s early. You could terminate. If you want to.’

  ‘I’m perfectly aware of my options,’ she said frostily.

  Joe stood up abruptly, set his beer on the mantelpiece and started pacing the living room. ‘We can work it out,’ he said. ‘Maybe you’re not. We need to find out. If you are …’ He stopped pacing. ‘… Why tell him? He doesn’t need to know. No one does. Have the baby and we’ll bring it up together. We’ll get married.’

  ‘When your divorce comes through.’ It was stating the obvious, but the fact needed clarifying.

  ‘A proper wedding. Not a silly after party.’

  ‘You’re unbelievable.’

  He reacted as if she meant in a good way. ‘I know. We’ll sort it, one way or another. If there’s a baby it can be our secret. What do you say? You and me? The way we were before. Let’s unpack my things.’

  ‘Stop.’ She jumped up from the sofa and held up the palm of her hand like she was directing traffic.

  ‘Too fast?’ He looked optimistic, like a more measured approach might work.

  ‘I love him.’

  ‘No, you don’t.’ He paced again suppressing her words. ‘I thought I loved Lainy. I didn’t. I love you.’ He wheeled round, and stared at her intensifying her confusion.

  ‘I’m not in love with you,’ she said as clearly as possible.