Chapter 5
Isla
“What do you mean, you can’t see Teddy on Saturday? Cameron! She was really looking forward to it.” I tried to keep my voice low as I hurried up the slight slope of Kinleith’s high street, the cobblestones beneath my thin-soled shoes still slick from last night’s rain.
I’d had the morning from hell. Teddy had been restless last night, crawling into my bed at two a.m. With both of us operating on little sleep, she’d been more grouchy than usual this morning, point blank refusing to eat breakfast. My mood had quickly followed hers when Daisy wouldn’t start, the engine making an angry clank, clank, splutter that sounded like loose parts rattling inside a tin can.
Luckily, I’d managed to catch Heather in time. She’d dropped Teddy off at day camp while I’d ridden my old bike into the village. Turned out, I was deathly out of shape. Thirty minutes later, I was sweaty, exhausted and late for my shift at Brown’s.
So, so late.
Jess was going to kill me.
Cameron sighed on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, all right? It’s the busiest time of year at the restaurant and you know Annie just opened the bakery last month, she’s run off her feet.”
How could I forget? I had the pleasure of staring at Queen’s Cakes from the window of Brown’s all day, every day. An unavoidable reminder that not only was she sleeping in my bed, but she was living out my professional dreams too.
“Teddy’s going to be devastated. She hasn’t seen you in over two weeks.” Tears welled in my eyes and I stopped walking, slumping against the window of the jewellery shop.
I’d always been a crier. Sad songs, movies where the dog dies, online videos of grooms crying while their bride walks down the aisle.
My little empath, my mum endearingly called me as a kid.
Until my parents’ relationship hit a new rough patch and I realised the intensity of my emotions could feel like a burden to the people around me.
Everyone but my grandmother. The world isn’t always kind to people who wear their heart for all to see, she’d told me once when I’d been upset about some mean kids at school.
It makes you an easy mark, a target for the world’s sorrows.
Protect your heart, sunshine; keep it close, but never bury it. Feeling deeply is a superpower.
“Kids are resilient. She’ll be fine,” Cameron replied while I swallowed around the empty, Grandma-shaped hole in my chest. “How about next Tuesday? I have a late start.”
“I’m working, and Teddy has camp. I don’t want to ruin her routine, not when she’s finally getting settled.”
I heard Cameron sigh again, a noise synonymous with the last months of our relationship.
Everything I’d done was wrong. Little had I known, while I was wracking my brain to figure out how I could make our home life better, he was sleeping with his beautiful, shiny-haired ex-girlfriend.
“I don’t know what you want me to do here, everything I say you’ll find fault with. ”
I want you to make your daughter a priority, I wanted to scream, but settled for, “Cameron, you don’t understand.
She’s been having nightmares; she’s moody all the time.
Her teacher mentioned she’s stopped playing with the other kids at breaktime – I’m really worried about her, could you just ask to switch—”
“You’re blowing this way out of proportion,” he interrupted, his pragmatic tone spiking my temper. “She’s always been a quiet kid; it’s not like that’s new information.”
“This is more than that.” I squeezed my hand tighter around the phone, as if the extra pressure would make him understand that his actions had sucked all the joy out of our little girl. That it was breaking my heart.
He didn’t say anything. I heard a familiar female voice murmur in the background.
Annabelle. The sound of her voice burned through me. A white-hot poker to the stomach.
The woman he’d told me not to worry about.
And I hadn’t. Because I’d trusted him implicitly.
Because he’d never given me a reason not to trust him.
I felt foolish every time I thought of her .
. . sleeping on my side of the bed. Eating breakfast in the kitchen where I’d cooked her dinner time and time again.
“These are gorgeous marble counters,” she’d once complimented, brushing her hand over the dove-grey surface. Had she been sleeping with him then? Picturing herself living in my home?
“Sure, baby,” Cameron replied. Not to me. “Isla, I gotta go. Can we pick this conversation up next week?”
“Wait. I needed – you haven’t—” Slow down, I ordered myself. Slow down and just say it. It was always this way when I was nervous. My thoughts stalled. Words tangled on the tip of my tongue. “I still haven’t received this month’s child support.”
There was a beat of silence. “I told you it would be late.”
I took a deep breath. Pushed out the words. “I still don’t have last month’s either.”
He sighed and I heard a door open and close where he was. “Please don’t nag me, Lala. I’m already stressed enough with work. I warned you things were going to be tight while we’re renovating the bathroom.”
“What was wrong with the old bathroom?”
“Annie hated the black-and-white tile.”
“Poor Annie,” I said. I wanted to scream. All this pressure building in my chest needed an exit.
“Fuck – I’m sorry.” He sounded genuinely apologetic.
That only made it worse. “I get that this is shit to hear. And I know I sound like the most selfish bastard in the world to say this to you after everything I did, but . . . shit, Annie’s in a terrible position in all this too.
She’s struggling, Lala, feeling guilty .
. . so guilty for how things went down, and I think all the reminders of you in the house are making it worse. ”
It was like he was right on the cusp of becoming self-aware, then falling at the final hurdle.
Too tired to argue, I shoved down the fire in my belly, forcing the conversation back to the only person who mattered. “Teddy has a school trip in September, if you could just pay for that, I can cover the rest for now.”
A pause. “How much is the trip?”
“Three hundred pounds.”
“Three hundred pounds?” he clipped. “Is it a trip to the fucking moon?”
“Loch Ness, actually.”
“It’s a few hours away, can’t you take her?”
No, because kids do this funny thing where they want to play with other children, I wanted to say, but settled on, “You know it’s not the same, Cam.
” The nickname slipped off my tongue. A nickname from another life where I wasn’t taking down the hem on all my kid’s trousers because she’d grown nearly as tall as me.
“I suppose I’m expected to pay for this summer camp you’ve signed her up for, as well? Another unnecessary expense.”
One he hadn’t paid a penny toward. “It’s the summer break. I can’t bring her to work with me every day, and I can’t cut down my shifts. It’s either camp or private childcare. The day camp is cheaper.” And she’d actually have fun with her friends rather than being stuck inside all day.
“I don’t know what to tell you. I can maybe loan you half for the school trip, but I’ll need it back.”
Taking care of his child was a loan now? Got it.
I bit down on my lip until it stung. Cameron and I rarely argued when we were a couple, other than the occasional bickering match over what to watch on the TV before we inevitably both stared at our phone screens all evening, and I didn’t know where to start now.
“Fine. If you could transfer it over, that would be great.”
“I’ll give it to you next week.”
“Now would be better. The school requires a deposit to secure her space.”
He sighed again, louder, more pointedly.
Trying to reel in the temper he so rarely lost. “This is exactly why we didn’t work out.
Dual parenting is only successful when we communicate, Isla.
I would really appreciate it if you could anticipate Teddy’s needs ahead of time rather than springing this on me at nine a.m. on a workday.
Perhaps you should consider getting a job with better pay, a more stable routine.
” The words lashed like he’d slapped me.
Like it was that easy.
Cameron and I first met at a baking conference in Edinburgh.
The course had cost more than I made in a week at my apprenticeship, but I’d attended some of the classes for free.
I’d been picking at my flaking nail polish, nervously staring at all the fancy couples out for date night, thinking, Wow, this is how the other half live.
Then Cameron had walked up to my workbench, and my stomach had fizzed. I remember the feeling so clearly. How he’d grinned boyishly and said we’d been paired up by chance.
He was a few years older than me. Dark-haired and handsome, with a smile like a member of a boy band. We’d spent the afternoon laughing with flour-covered aprons and comparing rolling techniques – his had been a lot better than mine. Later, he’d asked me out for a drink.
After a week, he’d told me he loved me for the first time.
I’d fallen pregnant with Teddy three months later. He’d pointed out it was dangerous for me to work in a kitchen while pregnant, so I’d quit without a second thought.
I’d been so eager to be loved and taken care of. To be the most important person in someone’s life, that I hadn’t even paused to consider what would happen if that love went away.
My life choices were my own to live with, but the fact Cameron wasn’t willing to admit was that he’d been gifted the best of both worlds: a successful career and a family, off the back of my free labour.
All these years later, I was the one with nothing to show for it. No qualifications. No work experience beyond my ability to follow a YouTube recipe.
“Maybe,” I mumbled now. “Thanks for the advice.”
“You know, despite everything, I still care about you, Lala, I want you to be happy.” A hint of a smile lingered in his voice.
“I know you do,” I said flatly, just wanting this conversation to be over. “Look, I need to get to work, so—” My words cut off as shouts rose behind me. Something soft brushed my leg, knocking me off balance. I righted myself with a gasp, twisting in time to see a dog.
I recognised Boy immediately – I knew April and Mal through Heather. My quick smile at his excited bark turned almost instantaneously to horror when he bounded into the road, right into the path of an oncoming camper van.
Oh god.
It was the sharp sensation of my thin-soled shoes slapping against the cobblestones that clued me in to the fact I was running, darting into the road after him. My need to prove I wasn’t entirely useless sparking my limbs into action.
I hit the middle of the road, and the world flipped into slow motion.
The camper van driver slammed the brakes. Too late. Much too late.
I didn’t realise I was screaming until a deep voice yelled back.
The camper van was barely two feet away. Still coming right at me.
I’m going to fucking die. The knowledge was short and sharp. Like a cold-water plunge.
What would my headstone read? Here lies Isla Lang, who died in an act of great bravery. Or, Died how she lived: foolishly and without thought.
I pictured Teddy, her beautiful face filling every corner of my mind, right before something struck me from the side and I hit the pavement.