Chapter 29
29
As I got ready for bed, I was wondering what it must have been like for Courtney—getting pregnant so young, by such a terrible man. This set off a train of idle thoughts, which eventually landed on Jacqui’s life after she’d had Trea. In those early years she’d been in a state of almost constant rage.
I found myself thinking of one random night, when Trea was a year and a bit. I was just leaving my office when Jacqui rang.
“Babes. Emergency.” She sounded tearful. “That asshole said he’d watch his own kid tonight—Father of the Fucking Year—but he’s not here, not answering his phone, and I’ve to work—”
“On my way.”
Outside, I grabbed a cab and was with Jacqui and Trea in ten minutes. (Trea had started life as “Treakil” but Jacqui and Joey had hammered out a compromise and she was now known as Trea.)
This—me deputizing for Joey at the last minute—was becoming a regular thing. In addition, I usually did one or two scheduled babysitting sessions with Trea every week.
Not that I was complaining. Now that I’d finally stopped using psychics to try to contact Aidan I had almost no life. Every second Friday, I caught the train to Boston, spent a grueling weekend with Aidan’s family, then, hollowed out from fake-cheeriness, got the train home on Sunday.
The only other thing going on was my job. It was often stressful and always exhausting but it was a literal painkiller. The break I got from thinking about Aidan gave me enough endurance to live through the non-work hours.
I let myself into Jacqui’s apartment—and there she was, full-on Glamazon, Trea in her arms.
“Wow.” I inspected Jacqui’s short fuchsia dress and long, long legs. “You are so sexy .”
“Thank you for this.” Jacqui passed Trea to me. “She’s been off-form all day. A slight temperature, the thermometer is on the shelf, call me if—”
“Go,” I said.
Jacqui cooed at Trea. “Sorry for leaving you with Anna again. But your daddy is an asshole. Yes, sweetie.” Her eyes sparkled. “Not just any asshole. But the world’s worst.”
“Jacqui, please.” If Trea didn’t understand yet, she would soon. And Joey might be unreliable, but he was still her dad.
In a flash, Jacqui’s mood changed. “I hate him, Anna. He’s banging Scarlett.”
“Who?”
“You know Nell’s sister, Madilyn? Her friend.”
I didn’t know her. “But you’re with Handsome Karl…”
“That’s just to make him jealous.”
Poor Handsome Karl, he deserved better.
“He could have any woman in this entire city,” Jacqui said. “And he has to pick a mate! Well, a mate’s sister’s mate. Anyway, thanks for bailing me out again. I honestly don’t know how I’d cope without you.”
“You won’t have to.” We’d been here before and there was nothing new to say.
Briefly, I wondered how she’d be managing if Aidan hadn’t died and I still had a life of my own. “Go to work,” I said. “It’ll all be okay.”
Because maybe it would.
But it was so messy. On the night Trea was born, when Joey had arrived, declaring his love, it seemed we were all set for a happy ending. Quickly, though, it became clear it was a false alarm. The word “love” was never mentioned again. When Jacqui plucked up the courage to ask, he’d muttered something about “The heat of the moment.”
And that was that.
He wasn’t a total deadbeat: financially he behaved like an adult, paying generous rent and maintenance. Trea spent every second weekend with him. But, increasingly, he couldn’t be depended on to show up on the evenings he was supposed to. Jacqui worked unpredictable hours; she needed someone reliable. “And,” as she said, over and over, “she’s his daughter, he should want to be with her!”
All credit to Jacqui, she’d made efforts to move on. Handsome Karl seemed like a great guy and was good with Trea. (It was a tragedy that a man was garlanded with praise just because he was cool about his girlfriend’s child with another man, but there we are.)
“Go on,” I said. “Off to work. Who is it tonight?”
“Darlene Ryker-Scott.” An actress who was as famed for her extracurricular high jinks as her extraordinary talent. “It’ll be a late one.”
“No problem.” I’d been sleeping on the divan in Trea’s room so regularly, we’d formalized things. There were enough of my clothes and stuff in the apartment to see me through a few days.
With a swish of her pale, shiny hair and a puff of some powerful perfume, Jacqui was gone, leaving me and Trea watching each other warily.
“Mama?” Trea’s voice flirted with breaking. She was a tearful little thing at the best of times.
“She’ll be back soon!” Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. For the love of all that’s holy, please don’t cry.
Being in sole charge of Trea gave me anxiety. It wasn’t my fault—until now I’d had no experience with babies. (Helen was three years younger than me, but my memory had her arriving fully formed and terrifying.)
“So, Bubba, let’s find this thermometer!” I’d assumed my confident nanny voice. “Then we’ll make your bottle and off to beddy-byes.”
Another whimper came from Trea. She had an uncanny ability to pick up on moods.
Considering my lifelong fear of responsibility, the universe must have been having a good laugh for itself, that I’d ended up as almost a second parent to this little girl.
Before Aidan, I hadn’t even wanted a pet. The idea of a dog, with their daily needs—every single day—brought on the panic.
The truth was, even owning a plant was too much. People thought that was a joke, but having a thing squatting in my apartment needing once-a-week watering ate away at my peace of mind. As soon as I’d watered the wretched thing, I had perhaps ten minutes of relief before realizing it would need to happen again in less than seven days. The regularity of the obligation was what freaked me out.
That changed when I met Aidan. We hadn’t gone into great detail but children had been part of our plan. My terror was dialed all the way down because Aidan would be there.
None of it came to pass though, and when Aidan died, my desire for kids went with him. And seriously, the most broody person on earth might reconsider their longing when they witnessed Jacqui and Trea’s chaos.
Being a single working mother looked brutally hard—even considering that Jacqui’s situation was a lot better than many. Financially, she was fine. And while Joey had become unreliable in terms of childcare, he did show sometimes.
Then there was me. I was glad to help. It made me feel less disconnected. But if I wasn’t ten minutes away, ready to jump into the breach at a moment’s notice, life would be a lot harder for Jacqui.
I took Trea’s temperature—slightly above normal. Shite. Immediately I was afraid she might die. An ever-present fear dogged me that people could die without warning.
“Cool down, good girl,” I said, while I made her bedtime bottle. In the starry, blue-lit nursery, I read her a story, then put on the plinky-plonky lullaby carousel. “Time to go to sleep,” I whispered.
I lay on the divan beside her cot and shut my eyes. I never slept well here, waking countless times in the night just to check Trea was still breathing. But for once I actually began to drift off. Letting go into delicious ease was rare and gorgeous…The buzzer blared, jolting all my nerves with adrenaline.
I swear to God, if this had woken Trea and I spent the rest of the night trying to get her back to sleep…
To my huge surprise, it was Joey at the door. In he came, wearing—of all things—a suit . He looked like…a businessman.
“Anna, hey. I’m watching Trea tonight?”
“Don’t you have a key?” I spoke in a furious whisper. “You could have woken her. And you’re an hour late.”
“Sorry. I’ve stuff going on.”
“I can only imagine.” I bit the words out.
“I was working.” His tone was surprised. “Is Trea okay? Jacqui said she was off-form.”
He made to go into Trea’s room and I blocked him. “Don’t wake her. Her temperature is slightly up. Keep an eye on it. Here’s the thermometer.”
He examined it from a couple of angles, as if he’d never seen one before. “Thanks for bailing me out.”
“Again,” I said.
“Whoa.” He recoiled. “Okay, ‘again.’ Sorry for messing up your evening. I’ve got it from here.”
I turned to gather my stuff.
“She hates me, right?”
“Who, Jacqui? Or Trea?”
He went pale. “Trea hates me?”
“She’s thirteen months old, Joey. How would I know if she hates you?”
“And Jacqui?”
Of course she did, but…“Ask her yourself.”
“Okay. Sure. Sorry.” He hesitated. “Anna? Do you hate me?”
I was too tired to spare his feelings. “You make it difficult to like you.”
“Tell me what I can do differently.”
“Why are you asking me?” Then quickly, because I wanted to leave, “Why did you sleep with Scarlett?”
“What does it matter to you who I sleep with?”
“Not me. Jacqui.”
“…But…she’s with Handsome Karl.”
“You could have found someone she didn’t know.” I stopped. “Or maybe you couldn’t? Maybe you’ve slept with literally every woman in this city.”
He rolled his eyes.
“You’ve slept with one of my sisters.”
A small moment pulsed between us; then, chastened, he nodded.
“My work colleague, Teenie. Rachel’s best friend, Brigit. You’ve slept with my best friend. And these are only the ones I know about. You could have slept with all of my sisters—”
“I haven’t—”
“— and my mum—”
“Anna, for Christ’s sa—”
“I’m almost the only woman I know that you haven’t slept with!”
“You sound…” Briefly, he seemed pleased. “…pissed off. But I was always putting the moves on you. You weren’t interested.”
Anger rose in me. He was so flippant. “Everything’s just a game, isn’t it?”
“No. I was being serious there. I was always putting the moves on you.”
“You ignored me—and Jacqui—for like the first six months we lived here. You literally wouldn’t even say hello to us.”
“Because Luke warned me off. Didn’t want me bothering another of Rachel’s sisters, but—”
He wanted to keep talking bullshit. Listening to his own lies and wasting my time. Then a wail sounded from Trea’s room.
“Is that…?” He frowned.
“Yes, Joey, your child needs you.”
In the blue-lit bedroom, Joey lifted Trea from her cot, and held her against his shoulder. “Sssh, sssh, sssh,” he said. “Daddy’s here, it’s all okay. Are you hungry, my little Trea?”
“She’s just had her bottle.”
“Does your diaper need to be changed?”
When Trea—naturally—didn’t reply, he slid a sheepish look at me.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” It was an effort to remain steely in the face of Trea’s distress but this was for everyone’s good.
He smiled. “I was just chancing my arm.” He lay Trea on the changing mat and was snapping open the poppers on her onesie. “It’s okay, little girl. Gonna get you a nice, clean diaper.”
“I need to show you how the thermometer works.”
“Anna. I know how it works.”
Give the man a medal. “Keep an eye on her temperature. Oh, and Jacqui will be late. You’ll probably have to stay the night.” I pointed at the divan. “So change the sheets. Then change them again in the morning. Because I’ll probably be the next person sleeping in it.”
“We share a bed.” He sounded entertained. “You and me.”
I gave him a death stare.
“Sorry.” He spoke quickly. “Did it again. Trying to be funny and just being dumb. Anyway, I do change the sheets.”
But I’d caught hints of his musky male smell from the pillow. It always unsettled me.
“I do,” he repeated. “Maybe I’m just very…”
“Maybe you are.”
He laughed.
As I descended in the elevator I wondered if I’d put Trea in danger, leaving her in the care of that dummy. But Joey had to step up. Women were always cutting him slack and making allowances. I wasn’t going to be yet another of them.