Chapter 5
Chapter five
The coffee was good, and Rosa sat quietly at the table, sipping hers and watching as planes landed and took off. People in hi-vis clothing moved vehicles and luggage around.
The girls were seated on a sofa, still laughing and staring into phones, chattering incoherently with a higher pitch than usual, excited for what was to come.
After a moment, Rosa turned and looked around the lounge, mostly seeing businessmen on laptops and reading newspapers.
As much as this upgrade was such a Billy thing to do, Rosa had to admit it was nice not having to sit out in the noisy hall with everyone else, staring up at TV screens for any sign your gate had opened.
And the free breakfast wasn't bad either, she considered. Luxuries—that was what this all was as far as Rosa was concerned, but she had to concede, it was nice.
She scanned further. Billy was nowhere to be seen.
"Probably chatting up a waitress," she mumbled to herself. "Oh, why do you even care?" she scolded.
At that moment, Billy came into view, rubbing her hands together and pulling a funny face as she closed the gap between them and plonked herself down onto a chair opposite Rosa.
"Loos are fancy." She chuckled. "Did you want another coffee? I think I'm going to grab another pastry…might even wrap a couple up for on the plane." The devilish wink and smirk sent a shiver through Rosa’s nervous system. All these years, and Billy could still do that to her.
Despite her body's betrayal, Rosa smiled and lifted her bag, opening it to reveal a small package of serviette-wrapped pastries.
"No need." She closed it quickly and glanced up to see if she'd been caught.
"Used to do it all the time when Immy was little.
Buffets were a good source of a free meal when things were tight. "
Billy looked away and out of the window for a moment before she turned back and reached for Rosa's hand.
"What are you—" Rosa tried to pull away but Billy held firm.
"I'm sorry," Billy said sincerely. "I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you both all those years, and I'm sorry that it was such a struggle for you, financially and—"
Rosa finally pulled her hand free. The tingle of something too recognisable swept through her again. "It was. I can't pretend otherwise."
"I don't want you to." Billy sat back but continued to hold her eye contact. "I just want you to know that I appreciate all that you did for her." She paused before adding, "For us."
"Someone had to, didn't they?" Rosa spoke softly.
The anger of yesteryear was gone for the moment, but there was still an element of residual bitterness lingering.
They'd been at peace with each other for the last few years.
The trust, to a certain extent, had been rebuilt.
There was no need to rock the boat now. "What's done is done.
The important thing now is Imogen. She's all that matters. "
Billy nodded. "Yes, she is." She glanced back over her shoulder at their daughter, spread out and lounging with her friends. "But I can still be grateful that you kept those parts of me from her…that you didn't badmouth me to her. You had every right to."
"And what would that have solved?" Rosa asked. "She was already anxious enough with me. Adding you in when she didn't even remember you would just have been cruel."
Billy flinched, then nodded and turned away to stare out of the window again.
Rosa bit her nail and watched Billy’s reflection in the glass, unsure why she felt the urge to assuage Billy's guilt, but she did.
"I didn't do it for you, or for me. I did what I needed to do for her.
I knew the questions would come at some point.
‘Why don't I have a daddy?’ Having to explain she had another mummy was awkward enough, without dumping it all on her that she left us.” She paused, and drew in a steadying breath.
“It was difficult enough. I didn't need to make it worse… for her...or you."
After a moment, Billy turned back, her eyes glassy. "And…did she? Ever ask about me?"
Rosa's chest tightened. How had they never talked about this? She'd been so intent on making sure Imogen was cared for, she'd never taken the time for herself and Billy to talk about things.
"Yes," Rosa answered honestly. "When she was three, she asked why everyone else had two people."
"What did you tell her?"
"I didn't know what to say, so I fudged it a little and said that that's just how it is for some little boys and girls, and others only need one." Rosa remembered the day like it was yesterday, Imogen in her little blue dungarees, hair in pigtails. "She just accepted it and that was it."
Billy was still staring at her, and then she asked, "What did you want to tell her?"
Rosa picked up her coffee cup and held it to her lips but didn't drink. “Honestly?”
Billy nodded. “Yes.”
"That her other mother was a selfish cow who'd abandoned us when we needed her most."
A single tear escaped and ran down Billy's cheek. She wiped it away and smiled sadly. "I can see how you would think that."
‘Flight number 4106 to Innsbruck is now ready for boarding, gate 25.’
"Girls, come on, we're off." Rosa jumped up, grabbing her flight bag. As she moved past Billy, she stopped and placed a palm on her shoulder. "Let's go, shall we?"
Rosa followed Billy, who followed the excitable teenagers down the aisle to their seats. Of course, the three of them bundled in together, leaving Rosa and Billy to work out who would take the aisle seat on their side and who would be stuck in the middle with a perfect stranger next to them.
"It's fine," Rosa huffed. "You take the aisle. You've got longer legs than me."
"And you don't like small talk with strangers," Billy replied. "I can squeeze into the middle for a couple of hours, and you can be closer to Imogen."
Before Rosa could put up a further argument, Billy pushed into the space and dropped her flight bag onto the seat, smiling at the man in a suit shoved up against the window.
"Hi," she said as she opened the bag and took out what she needed before shoving it under the seat and sitting down. She buckled up and tried to fit her feet into the space around the bag.
"You should sit here," Rosa tried once more, but with Billy unmoving, she threw her hands up and gave in, sitting herself down and pulling the belt around her waist. "You're just being a martyr. You'll be complaining in a moment that there isn't enough room."
"I've found over the years that it's actually quite healthy to have a little moan and get things out of your system."
"Yes, well, it probably is when you have no actual responsibilities in life," Rosa snapped, and then inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly, her eyes closing in silent self-rebuke. When she was composed again, she said, "Sorry, that was—"
"What you wanted to moan about? Perfectly valid…
hurtful…but valid." Billy smiled quickly before picking up her phone and flicking through the screen until she found a game.
"Just to be clear…" She turned slowly to face Rosa again, her voice low.
"Not a day goes by where I don't regret the way things turned out.
But I wasn't in a place where logical thinking could happen. "
"I know…rationally, I know that. I just…
" Rosa looked across at the girls—three smiling, happy faces, totally ignorant to the conversation she was having.
She turned back to Billy. "I guess I am feeling resentful.
The way Imogen is with you… It's like you're best friends and I'm the grump ruining her life with rules and budgets. "
"Is this about the trainers?"
"A little bit, yes," Rosa acknowledged. "I can't afford that—to just spend hundreds of pounds on things she doesn't need, but just wants."
"Maybe I can contribute more…so you can treat her sometimes."
Rosa glared at her. "I am not a charity case, thank you very much."
An announcement came over the loudspeaker and interrupted Rosa from going into a full-on rant. They'd be taking off any moment.
"Imogen, are you all belted in?" Rosa asked.
"Yes. All secure." Imogen yanked her belt and laughed. Rosa had the distinct feeling the laughter was at her. She raised a brow at Imogen and the teenager mouthed, “Sorry.”
The engines roared to life, the plane hurtling down the runway as Rosa felt herself pressed back in her seat by gravity. It took a few minutes before the plane stopped rising and evened out, then a further minute or two before the seatbelt sign pinged it was safe to get up.
Nobody moved.
"I didn't mean to imply you were a charity case," Billy said quietly. "I just meant…I could do more."
Rosa sighed. "Yes, you could. You could pick her up from school on Thursdays and drop her at football practice.
Pick her up again three hours later and make sure you take her kit home and wash it ready for the weekend.
Or you could pick her up on Mondays after school and take her to her piano lesson, and then her guitar lesson right after. Or you could—"
"I understand the point being made. But unfortunately, my job isn't as flexible as yours is, which is why I offer to pay for things."
"And why she thinks you're the good guy."
Billy shook her head. "I don't think she thinks that. You're her parent."
Rosa pulled a face at that remark. "So are you."
"No,” Billy said firmly. “She calls me Billy. When it comes down to it, you're the one she looks to as a parent. You're the rules and regs. If she believes she'll disappoint you, she won't do it. If she supposes she would be in trouble with you, she thinks twice."
"I don't think I like that."
"You're her mum. I'm just the person who showed up halfway through her life and took her to do fun stuff."
"She loves you."
"She loves us both, but we have different roles in her life, and yours is the important one."
The trolley rattled to a stop beside them. "Would you like a drink? Any snacks?"
Rosa smiled up at the stewardess. "Is it too early for wine?"