Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
JACKO
The pub’s got one of those jungle gyms that smells faintly of feet and disinfectant, with neon-coloured netting and a ball pit that might as well be a germ reservoir. But Lila takes one look and bolts straight in, like she’s been training her whole life for this moment.
Maya and I trail behind, her hand brushing mine as she watches Lila disappear into the tunnels. I can feel the nervous energy rolling off her, even though she’s trying to keep it together. I know she hates it when Lila is out of her sight, she can’t relax. I nudge her gently with my elbow.
“We’ve got at least an hour before she resurfaces,” I say. “Come on. Let me buy you a proper meal that isn’t shaped like a dinosaur.”
She gives me a half-smile, that guarded little quirk of her lips that’s becoming one of my favourite sights. “Don’t knock dinosaur nuggets. They’re practically a food group in my house.”
I find us a table near enough that she can keep an eye on the soft play but far enough that we won’t get caught in the path of any rogue toddlers.
It’s a quiet Sunday crowd, mostly families, the occasional hungover couple.
I order us both roast dinners and a pint for me, a lemonade for her.
Maya picks out a pizza shaped like a bunny and a drink for when Lila resurfaces eventually.
She shrugs off her coat and settles into the corner seat, scanning the play area until she spots Lila bouncing on a trampoline in the back.
“I can’t believe she’s got any energy left,” she murmurs.
“She’s part rocket, that one,” I say. “Could power the whole rink off her alone.”
Maya lets out a real laugh this time. It’s soft, but it’s there. Honest. The kind of sound you want to bottle and keep in your pocket.
Our food arrives, Yorkshire puddings big enough to wear as hats, thick slices of roast beef, and gravy that actually tastes like something. Maya takes a bite and groans under her breath.
“Okay, this might beat dinosaur nuggets.”
I grin. “High praise.”
We eat in companionable silence for a while, occasionally pointing out Lila when she surfaces like a meerkat. She’s making friends in the ball pit, bossing around some poor kid twice her size.
Maya watches her with something complicated in her expression. Pride, definitely. But also, something tighter. Sadder.
I keep my voice low. “You okay?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Just pokes at her carrots, then finally sets her fork down. “There’s… stuff you don’t know. About me. About why I’m like this. Why I don’t… trust easily.”
I set down my pint, heart thudding. “You don’t owe me anything, Maya. But if you want to tell me…”
“I do,” she cuts in, gentle but firm. “You’ve been so kind to me. To Lila. And if we’re going to keep wherever this is going, you deserve to know.”
I nod, giving her space.
She looks down at her hands. “Her dad’s name is Jamie. We weren’t married, thank God, but we lived together for years. He was charming at first. Always is, with men like that. You think you’re the lucky one, you know? That you’ve found someone who really sees you. And then it starts. Slowly.”
I don’t interrupt. Just listen. Let her speak on her own terms.
“It was never just one thing,” she says. “It was the way he’d isolate me. Make me feel stupid. Undermining, subtle digs. Then the yelling started. The door slamming. Breaking things. Threatening my job, my friends. By the time I got pregnant, I didn’t even recognise myself.”
She pauses, eyes fixed on her untouched Yorkshire pudding. “He didn’t hit me, not at first. But he didn’t have to. The fear was always there. And when Lila was born… it got worse.”
I clench my jaw so hard it aches. It takes everything in me not to reach across the table, not to storm off and find this Jamie prick and show him what fear actually looks like.
But Maya doesn’t need fury right now. She needs something steadier.
So, I breathe. And say, quiet and sure, “You got out. That took guts.”
She nods. “I waited until he was on a business trip. Packed everything I could into my car. Lila was almost two. We drove until I ran out of petrol and landed in this town by chance. I had to sell the car not long after we got here to pay the rent until I got the job at the community centre.”
I reach across the table, fingers brushing hers. She doesn’t pull away.
“You’re safe now. With me, with the team, with everyone who sees you and Lila for who you really are.”
Her eyes shine. Not with tears exactly. But something close. “You keep saying that. That we’re safe. It means more than you know.”
“I mean it,” I say. “And Lila? She’s a hurricane. Whatever you did, you raised her right.”
Maya laughs, sniffles once. “I love that she calls you Bear, you know.”
I grin. “Best name I’ve ever had.”
We finish our food, still holding hands across the table like a pair of teenagers, and I can feel something shifting between us. Not just attraction, though there’s that, burning bright. But something deeper. Trust. The beginnings of it, anyway.
Eventually, Lila barrels back to the table, cheeks flushed and hair wild. “I made a friend! Her name is Maisie and she likes dinosaurs too!”
“That’s brilliant, Jellybean,” I say, ruffling her curls.
She climbs into the booth beside me, stealing a piece of Yorkshire pudding from my plate. Maya starts to scold her, but I wave it off.
“She’s earned it. Looks like she conquered the whole play area.”
Lila beams at me like I’ve hung the moon.
Maya watches us, something soft and awed in her eyes. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to.
Because I think she’s starting to believe it now; that she’s not alone anymore.
And neither is Lila. And maybe, if I’m lucky, neither am I.
The pub’s already buzzing when I walk in. The boys have claimed their usual table in the back; Murphy, Ollie, Dylan, and a few of the rookies. Murphy slides a pint toward me the second I sit down.
“Look who finally showed up. Was starting to think Maya had you tied to a radiator somewhere.”
I snort. “Not her style.”
“You good, mate?” Ollie asks, watching me over the rim of his glass.
I take a long sip before answering. “Yeah. Just had a big day. Took Lila and Maya to the soft play pub.”
Murphy grins. “That place is mental. Full-on war zone.”
Dylan raises a brow. “Did you fall into the ball pit?”
“Nah,” I say. “Lila pulled rank. Said it was her kingdom. She loved it,” I say, and something in my voice must give me away, because Ollie leans forward.
“Something happened. What is it?”
I glance around, too many ears, then tilt my head toward the corridor by the loos. Ollie follows without question. We stand in the quiet alcove, out of sight. I rub the back of my neck.
“She told me about him. Her ex. Lila’s dad.”
Ollie goes still. “Yeah?”
“Emotional abuse. Isolation. Threats. He hit her. She was terrified. Fled when he had to go away with his job, Lila wasn’t even two.”
Ollie swears under his breath. “Jesus.”
“I just…” I exhale sharply. “I’m trying to be patient. I don’t want to push her into anything she’s not ready for. But hearing all that… I wanted to drive to wherever that bastard lives and…”
“I get it,” Ollie says quietly. “But you’re doing the right thing, Jacko. You’re showing up. You’re not pushing. You’re just there. That’s what matters.”
I nod. But it still sits heavy in my chest. All the hurt she’s been carrying.
“She deserves better. And so does Lila.”
Ollie claps me on the shoulder. “And they’ve got you now. That’s a fucking good start.”
I let that settle. Because maybe it is. And maybe I’m finally the kind of man someone like Maya can trust. Even if it takes time. I’ll wait.
For both of them, I’ll wait.