Chapter 28
Two months earlier
Jamie gets out of the taxi first. He holds out a hand for Nadeeka, who had reached her self-imposed limit of three vodka-and--tonics two hours ago, then declared It’s the weekend! and ordered another round. Followed by two more. He taps the flat of his hand twice on the roof of the cab.
‘Why do men always do that?’ Nadeeka stumbles as she steps on to the pavement. ‘Oops!’
Jamie puts one arm around her, taking a firm hold of her elbow with his free hand. ‘So the driver knows everyone’s safely out and he can drive off.’ He steers her towards the house.
‘I’ve literally never seen a woman do it. Do they teach you it in boy-school?’ Nadeeka stops, seemingly incapable of talking and walking at the same time. ‘Also . . .’ She hiccups loudly. ‘You called him “chief”. You never call anyone chief. Is that a boy-school thing too?’
‘Ah, you’ve rumbled us.’ Jamie coaxes a few more steps out of her, then hunts for the house keys amid the eclectic contents of her handbag. ‘You brought wet wipes on a date night?’ He holds them up. ‘Were you expecting something more adventurous than drinks and a pub quiz?’
‘Mums never go anywhere without wet wipes.’
‘You learn that in girl-school, I suppose.’ Jamie opens the front door.
‘Don’t be so sexist!’
Jamie is about to point out Nadeeka’s double standards when she trips over her own feet and faceplants on to the hall carpet. She lies there giggling to herself and making no attempt to move. Jamie can’t help but laugh too as he hauls her upright and shepherds her up the stairs to bed.
Nadeeka starts pulling off her clothes, throwing them with abandon across the carpet. ‘The girls are at Scott’s.’
‘Yes.’ Jamie takes off his T-shirt and drops it into the laundry basket.
Nadeeka flings herself on the bed, both arms in the air. She has taken off her knickers but still has on her bra and a single sock. It is an interesting (if not unappealing) look. She beams at him. ‘You know what that means.’
Jamie and Nadeeka’s sex life falls into two distinct categories.
There is the quiet and slightly furtive kind which happens when Maya and Nish are home: breathless under the covers, one eye on the closed bedroom door.
And then there is the kind they have on a Wednesday night and every other weekend; the sort of rampant, uninhibited sex enjoyed at the start of a relationship – or after two bottles of wine.
Jamie sometimes feels guilty about how much he looks forward to the girls going to their dad’s.
It isn’t only the sex (although the fear of being interrupted by someone else’s child isn’t exactly conducive to a great performance); it’s because on those days Nadeeka gets to be Nadeeka, not Mum.
And she really is different. More relaxed, more spontaneous.
She laughs more; she’s more affectionate.
She even sits down to eat breakfast, instead of standing up by the sink.
‘Do you feel different?’ Jamie asked her once.
‘Kind of.’
He had found it fascinating, this idea that someone could be two people.
‘Three,’ Nadeeka had said. ‘I think I’m three people.
There’s Work Nadeeka, too. I’m much more efficient there than I ever am at home.
More confident, too. I can fire someone for poor performance without breaking a sweat, but when my hairdresser gave me that horrendous fringe last month, I told her it was perfect then gave her a massive tip. ’
Jamie had wondered if this was a male/female thing; if women were more chameleon-like by nature. ‘I think I’m just Jamie,’ he’d said. ‘I wouldn’t know how to be any different.’
‘Good job I like Jamie.’
‘I like Nadeeka too.’ Jamie had pulled her in for a kiss. ‘All three of them.’
She’s asleep when he comes out of the bathroom, snoring gently with one arm flung across his side of the bed.
Jamie finishes undressing her (he has never worn a bra, but he imagines they are extremely uncomfortable to sleep in) and carefully pulls the duvet out from beneath her so he can lay it over them both.
‘Goodnight, my love,’ he whispers. ‘Thanks for a great night.’
The alarm wakes Jamie rudely at eight the following morning. Theoretically, Scott drops the girls to school the Monday after his weekends with them, but in race season (and it always seems to be race season) he returns them to Nadeeka on Sunday morning.
Jamie screws up his eyes then drains the glass of water on his nightstand.
He glances at Nadeeka, but she’s sprawled face-down, a smear of mascara visible beneath a tangle of hair and duvet.
He kisses the back of her head then goes for a shower.
If he has to deal with Scott Hadley, he needs to be properly awake.
The dating apps should have a section specifically about exes, Jamie thinks. A series of tick box questions like Are you on good terms with your ex? Does he help out with the kids? or Is he insanely jealous of you dating again and liable to throw a punch at your new partner?
That last gift had left Jamie with a painful jaw and a bruised ego.
He’d been proud of himself for not raising a fist in return, but his cool response had enraged Scott, who had taken Jamie’s lack of reaction as a personal challenge.
Their encounters had always been uncomfortable, and after the punch they became laden with tension, the sinews on Scott’s forearms continually pulsating as though he’d stopped around the corner to press out some push-ups in preparation.
Frankly, Jamie wouldn’t be surprised if he had.
‘Stay out of his way,’ Nadeeka always tells Jamie. ‘He’s not worth it.’
He isn’t, but with Nadeeka out for the count Jamie has no choice but to face Scott alone. He fuels himself with a strong coffee and watches the clock until he hears a car door slam, swiftly followed by Maya’s distinctive voice bossing Nish about.
‘I’ll ring the bell – you can’t reach.’
‘I can.’
‘You can’t, look.’
Jamie opens the door. ‘Hey, girls, did you have a good time?’
‘We had popcorn!’ Nish says. Maya says nothing.
She is always wary around Jamie when she comes back from her dad’s, and Jamie wonders what poison Scott drips in her impressionable ears.
As they run in the house, Jamie gives Scott a tight nod to bring an end to their interaction, but Scott takes a step forwards.
‘Where’s Nads?’ His arms are folded across his chest like a bouncer outside a nightclub.
‘Having a lie-in. We had a late one last night.’
The second it’s out Jamie knows it was a stupid thing to say; that anything even vaguely hinting at a personal life between Nadeeka and Jamie makes Scott see red. On cue, a crimson flush creeps from the neck of his crisp white T-shirt.
‘I’m not fucking interested in what you get up to with my ex-wife.’
It is so patently a lie that Jamie almost laughs.
‘My only concern is making sure my daughters are looked after, and don’t come second to whatever this is.’ Scott waves his hand, encompassing Jamie, the house . . . presumably Nadeeka too.
‘This is pretty good, actually.’ Jamie grips the doorframe so hard he can feel the grain of the wood. ‘You should try it – oh, wait, you have. And you chucked it away.’ What is he doing? Shut up now . . .
‘Couldn’t have your own kids, is that it?’ Scott takes a step forward. ‘Had to muscle in on someone else’s?’
‘Fuck off.’
‘Thing is, when you have kids, you’re bound together for life. Doesn’t matter how long you stick around for, every time Nads looks at the girls, I’m in her head.’ He taps the side of his skull. ‘You could never understand.’
The words form on Jamie’s lips before he has a chance to stop them. ‘I guess I’ll find out when we have kids of our own.’
Why did he say that? He and Nadeeka have touched on the subject of children lightly – almost jokingly – like toeing ice on a pond to see if it will bear weight.
I’m open to the idea, Nadeeka said once, Jamie offering up I wouldn’t rule it out.
It is still early days, but when Jamie imagines having a baby – with Nadeeka’s dark eyes; with his nose, perhaps – it fills him with a glow he hasn’t felt before.
Jamie braces himself for another punch, but Scott doesn’t move, only stares at Jamie with fury in his eyes. Then he turns and gets into his car, revving the engine as he pulls away.
Later, after Jamie has told Nadeeka that yes, the handover went fine, and no, Scott didn’t start anything, he opens a text message from an unknown number.
You’re fucking dead.
Jamie deletes the message, but he can’t stop thinking about it, and when Nadeeka mentions that Jamie seems ‘off’ with her, he snaps back that maybe it’s because he’s got up at eight to deal with your prick of an ex.
Nadeeka raises an eyebrow. ‘So it’s my fault?’ She’s cranky too, hungover and sleep-deprived despite her later start.
‘That’s not what I said.’
‘That’s what it sounded like.’
Jamie taps Maya’s plate. ‘Your lunch is getting cold.’
‘I don’t like pasta.’
‘Since when?’
‘I don’t like how you cook it. Only when Mum or Dad do it.’
Jamie pushes back his chair. It’s that or say something unforgivable about Scott in front of the girls; that or end up fighting with Nadeeka – and isn’t that exactly what Scott wants them to do?
He goes upstairs and paces the bedroom, his fingers bunching into fists as he pictures Scott’s sneering face.
Nadeeka is the best thing to have happened to Jamie in years.
When Jamie had tentatively stepped back into the dating pool several years after his ex left him, he had despaired of ever finding love again, but the moment he met Nadeeka he knew he never wanted to date anyone else.
Admittedly, he’d been daunted by the idea of acquiring two children as well, but Maya and Nish were (mostly) amazing, and Jamie had slowly fallen for them, too.
But Scott does everything in his power to turn them against Jamie, and it’s starting to cause friction between Jamie and Nadeeka.
Jamie sits on the edge of the bed. For the first time since he left Sheffield, he voices to himself the doubt that has been growing inside him. Scott Hadley isn’t going anywhere. And if Jamie can’t handle that, packing up his life and moving in with Nadeeka had been a big mistake.