Chapter 26
26
JOEL
I hated saying goodbye to Poppy, even though I was going to see her again later. As she closed her door after another incredible kiss, I felt like I was leaving part of my heart behind and the intensity of the emotion took my breath away. I leaned against the wall for a couple of moments before returning to my room to pack.
As I placed Cloud in Imogen’s case, I replayed her interrogation over breakfast in my head. Poppy had responded to it so well and hadn’t given anything away about us. There was a big risk that Imogen would tell Tilly about Poppy anyway. I had never and would never ask Imogen to cover anything up for me – not fair on her and likely to backfire on me at a later date. If Imogen did mention Poppy, Tilly would jump to the conclusion that Poppy was my long-term secret girlfriend who’d attended as my plus one and she’d be fuming that I’d introduced her to Imogen without Tilly’s approval. I’d cross that bridge if I came to it.
I loved how Poppy had skilfully steered the conversation away from her love life by asking Imogen about riding. She couldn’t have picked a better subject as Imogen told her all about the lessons Barney had given her on Munchie and how she’d been scrapbooking her progress. That led to her telling Poppy about how Zara had introduced her to the world of scrapbooking after presenting her with a scrapbook and box full of tape, ribbons and stickers for Christmas two years ago. I’d bought her a Polaroid camera for the following birthday which she used only for special photos to go in the book. She’d taken a few at the wedding across the afternoon and was planning on a special section in her scrapbook devoted to the big day. The pair of them had discussed ideas for those pages and Poppy had said she’d love to see it when it was finished, as though that was their normal. And the strange thing was that, despite knowing her for less than twenty-four hours, it really felt like it was.
It took ages to say goodbye to everyone, but I was still ahead of schedule for dropping Imogen back at Tilly’s. Despite that, she’d already sent three texts and left a voicemail making sure I’d have her back well before lunch. I’d ignored them all. I understood that she was eager to have Imogen home, especially when I’d had her two weekends in a row, but both weekends had only involved one overnight stay, so it wasn’t like Tilly hadn’t seen Imogen at all. It would be great if that insight into my world – missing Imogen constantly – would make Tilly more understanding of my situation and willing to do something about it, but I doubted it.
When the car was loaded and Imogen was settled, I sent Tilly a text to confirm we were leaving. My phone beeped with a reply as I started the ignition but I didn’t bother opening it.
‘Have you had a good time?’ I asked Imogen as I set off down the drive.
‘It was awesome. I love weddings. I can’t wait for Fizz and Phoebe’s wedding and I don’t mind not being a bridesmaid. Can I still wear a pretty dress that twirls?’
‘Next time I see you on a weekend, we’ll go shopping for one.’
For the next half an hour, she barely drew a breath, chattering about all the things she’d loved about the wedding – doing the Taylor Swift routine, the photo booth, the sweetie cart, seeing her grandparents and having a sleepover with Darcie, if only for a few hours.
‘Leighton will be so jealous when I tell him about the sweetie cart,’ she said.
‘You got a bag of sweets for him, though, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, but I ate them all.’
I bit back a smile. That might explain her feeling sick last night.
‘I hear you’re going to have two more half-brothers in the summer. Are you excited about that?’
‘No. I don’t need any more brothers and it’s not fair that we have to move to fit them in.’
My stomach lurched. Tilly hadn’t mentioned anything about moving. They were already short on space but I’d been led to believe that money was tight, so I couldn’t imagine how they were going to afford a bigger house.
‘You’re moving?’ I asked.
‘Yes. How far away is Scotland?’
I felt the colour draining from my face as I gripped tightly onto the steering wheel. Scotland? Scotland? What the hell?
I was seething by the time I pulled up outside Tilly’s house. Scotland? Seriously? Even if they were planning on only just going over the border, we were still talking three and a half hours away. How dare she even think about taking my daughter so far away without breathing a word to me about it?
The front door opened and Tilly stepped out, wrapping her cardigan around her stomach. As Imogen ran up the garden path to hug her mum, I removed her suitcase, coat and dress carrier from the boot, my jaw clenching.
Tilly had stepped into the hall and pushed the door to, presumably to keep out the cold. Or unwanted fathers. I could hear her inside gushing about how much she’d missed Imogen and how she hated it when she was away which just added fuel to the fire burning inside me.
I pushed open the door and placed Imogen’s belongings just inside.
‘I need to go, sweetie,’ I said. ‘Goodbye hug?’
Imogen released Tilly and raced to me, hugging me tightly and thanking me for taking her.
‘Why don’t you go in and tell Greg and the others all about it?’ I suggested. ‘I need a word with your mummy outside.’
Tilly glared at me. ‘It’s cold out.’
‘Then put a coat on,’ I muttered, my voice cold as I glared at her. Then I smiled and said in a brighter tone, ‘Bye, Imogen. See you later in the week for tea with Grandma Audrey and Granddad Trevor.’
‘I hadn’t agreed to that,’ Tilly protested when Imogen disappeared into the lounge.
‘It’s not your decision to make. Put your coat on. We need to talk.’
She grabbed her coat and followed me outside. ‘She’s already spent the weekend with them,’ she said, her voice thick with the whiny tone she always used when trying to stop me from spending time with Imogen.
‘She was at a wedding with a couple of hundred guests. She barely saw them.’
‘That’s not my fault.’
‘Fine. We won’t have tea with them this week. I’ll book a week in Portugal over Easter instead. Which would you prefer?’
She reeled back, surprise in her eyes that I’d challenged her.
‘I’ll take that as a yes to tea this week.’
‘Okay, but there’s no need to be so arsey about it.’
‘You think this is arsey? I haven’t even started being arsey. What should we talk about next? Ooh, how about you planning on moving to Scotland with our daughter?’
She tutted loudly. ‘She wasn’t meant to say anything.’
‘Don’t blame Imogen. What the hell, Tilly? When were you going to tell me?’
‘Ssh! She’ll hear you! It’s not definitely happening. We’ve seen a camping and glamping site for sale so the reason we’re hoping to go to Scotland over Easter is to check it out.’
It all fell into place – that guilty look last weekend when I’d broached the issue of Greg wanting Imogen to call him Daddy but Tilly thinking Imogen had let something else slip. She’d covered her tracks by mentioning the holiday, but she’d clearly thought Imogen had told me about the move.
‘Where in Scotland?’ It came out gruff, but I didn’t care.
‘Does it matter?’
‘Of course it matters! It’s four and a half hours to Edinburgh which is bad enough but somewhere like Inverness is probably another three hours on top of that.’
The flinch followed by an averted gaze when I said Inverness confirmed we were talking the Highlands rather than the borders. Absolutely unbelievable.
‘How could you keep something like this from me? How could you ask our daughter to keep it quiet? And how the hell could you think it’s okay to even consider it?’
‘It might not happen.’
‘There’s no might about it. It’s not happening. She’s my daughter and there’s no way on earth I’m letting you take her to Scotland.’
She straightened up and fixed me with a hard stare. ‘It’s not your decision to make,’ she said, repeating my words from moments ago. ‘I have full custody of our daughter. I think you’ll find that I can do whatever I like.’
She slammed the door and locked it. I stood on the path, feet rooted to the spot, my stomach in knots. She couldn’t take Imogen to Scotland. She just couldn’t. But Tilly had always done whatever the hell she liked and if she decided that campsite was for her, she’d get it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the lounge blinds twitching. I had to get out of there, away from prying eyes. I ran to my car and pulled away but I only made it down their street and round the corner before I had to slam on the brakes and yank on the handbrake, thinking I was going to throw up. I wound the window down and took in several deep gulps of air until the nausea subsided and I sank back into my seat, shaking. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. I couldn’t live without Imogen. Every goodbye was painful when she lived in the same town as me. I could not have her living hours away and I knew she wouldn’t want it either. And I wasn’t going to let it happen.