7
7
‘I’m bored.’
It was Monday so the shop was closed – we opened Tuesday to Saturday – and Emma was at work. Rose had come into the garden, where I had been mowing the lawn and was now weeding, my least favourite job in the world, especially when it was this hot, nudging into the thirties. Lola sat on the decking in the shade and watched me.
‘Why don’t you give me a hand?’ I said to Rose, going over to join her. She looked at me like I’d asked her to climb on to the roof to fix a leaky gutter.
‘ Gardening? ’
I resisted the urge to tell her how her great-grandad had worked in the hop fields of Kent from the age of nine. I hadn’t exactly done much gardening when I was her age. ‘Have you done your holiday homework?’
‘Dad, that doesn’t have to be done for five weeks.’
‘Um, have you completed Tears of the Kingdom ?’ That was the new game we’d bought her for her Switch a few weeks ago. I reeled through a list of things she could do, from watching Netflix to tidying her bedroom.
‘Everything’s boring.’ She approached Lola and petted her. ‘I could take Lola out.’
‘Not on your own.’ Dylan was out with his mates. ‘And don’t say you’re not a baby. Twelve is too young to take a dog out on your own.’
‘But it’s fine now. Safe.’
I turned to look at her. ‘When was it not safe?’
‘I mean ... I’m old enough.’
‘No, Rose. What if she, I don’t know, slipped her leash?’
She tutted. ‘That’s such a lame reason.’
Then, for the second time in a week, a voice came from over the fence. ‘I’ve got something that might entertain you.’ Both Rose and I looked to see Fiona peering over from her garden. ‘Maybe Rose would like to come and meet my new friend.’
‘New friend?’ Rose said.
‘Wait there.’
From my position on the decking, which gave a view over the fence, I watched as Fiona went back into her house. She was wearing cut-off denim shorts and had bare feet, and I could see the dirt on her soles as she walked away, and a little heart-shaped mark on her ankle. As she reached her house she surprised me by looking back over her shoulder. She must have thought I was staring at her body and I quickly looked away.
She didn’t appear annoyed, though. In fact, she smiled. And a minute later she came back holding something black and white and almost unbearably cute.
‘Oh! A kitten!’ Rose rushed over to the fence where Fiona stood, holding the cat out so Rose could stroke it.
‘She’s a little girl, and I need to think of a name for her. Maybe you could come over and help me – if that’s all right with your dad.’
They both looked at me. The kitten looked at me too. ‘That’s absolutely fine by me. Just as long as you don’t outstay your welcome, Rose.’
‘I’ll kick her out as soon as we’ve come up with a good name,’ Fiona said. She winked at Rose, then let her in through the back gate. She paused and said to me, ‘Oh, do you want to come over too? I have cold lemonade in the fridge.’
It was tempting. Rose wasn’t the only one who liked kittens. And there was Fiona, standing there in her little shorts, a hand on her hip, skin glowing with perspiration. Then I noticed Rose staring at me like she didn’t recognise me. Shit, I didn’t recognise myself.
‘I need to finish this weeding.’
‘Suit yourself.’
They disappeared into the house with the kitten and I consciously didn’t look at Fiona’s legs, or her bum in her little shorts, as she walked away. I blamed the heat. I needed a cold shower.
Instead, I finished the gardening, then took the bin that contained the mown grass and weeds out to the front of the house. As I placed it in position I saw Iris, the woman who lived next door to Tommy and Nicola. I’d met her a few times. She was in her early seventies; grey hair, slim and fit. She could often be seen out running in her lime-green Nike gear and baseball cap, and she drove an electric hybrid, proud of her eco credentials. She had its hood open now and was refilling the windscreen reservoir.
‘Oh, hello Ethan,’ she said as I approached.
We exchanged small talk about her car and the weather.
‘Business good?’ she enquired. ‘I still need to get Alan’s old records out of storage, let you take a look at them. He kept them pristine, you know.’
‘Definitely. Just let me know when.’
I was a little sceptical. Over the years, a lot of people had asked me to look at their record collections. Since the vinyl boom, everyone thought there was treasure lurking among their old LPs and 45s, and they would always insist their records were in great condition, lots of gems among them. Then I would turn up and find a load of scratched copies of Brothers in Arms , yet another Best of Blondie with a torn sleeve and coffee rings on the cover, and tatty seven-inch singles that looked like they’d been rescued from a skip. Every now and then I’d find something decent – an original Exile on Main St. or someone’s cherished Northern Soul collection. But I wasn’t in a rush for Iris to dig her late husband’s vinyl out of wherever it was stored.
I turned towards her neighbours’ house. I hadn’t seen them return to their home since yesterday morning, which obviously didn’t bode well.
‘Any news about Albie?’
‘No. That poor family. A chap came yesterday afternoon – Tommy’s brother, I think – to collect the dogs, and I asked him what was happening, but he was extremely vague. I’m not ...’ She trailed off, grimacing.
‘What is it?’
‘Well, I feel bad saying this, but they’re not the easiest family to live next door to, with the dogs barking and the sound of that bike and, well, I’m sure you’ve heard Tommy and Nicola fighting from across the street. But seeing that poor boy yesterday, it made me sick. Do you have any idea what happened?’
‘It seems like the front tyre blew out. I saw a police car parked over there this morning, a couple of cops taking a look. I was asking Dylan about it and he pointed out that there’s a little ridge on the ground where it happened, right between two trees. He said he’s seen them racing up to that ridge so it becomes a kind of ramp, and they jump the bike between the trees. I guess the front tyre burst as Albie was doing this and it sent him flying off course, straight into the tree.’
Iris winced, picturing it.
‘I would never let my kids on something like that,’ I said.
‘I never would have either.’ I could see her force herself to brighten. ‘How are your two?’
‘Oh, they’re fine. Dylan’s out with friends. Rose has gone round to Fiona’s to help her choose a name for her new kitten.’
‘How lovely.’ She looked across at Fiona’s house. ‘So that’s her name? I haven’t met her yet. What’s her surname?’
I thought about it. ‘Smith.’ I only remembered that because, when she’d said it, I’d thought like Robert Smith , the singer with my favourite band. ‘I don’t know much about her, though, except that she seems nice. Is that bad, that I’m letting someone I hardly know look after my daughter?’
Iris waved a hand. ‘In the old days we all used to look after each other’s kids. It takes a village and all that.’
‘That was in the East End, right?’ Iris had told me before that she was a proper Cockney, raised in some part of east London that had since been gentrified. She had moved out to the suburbs after she retired.
‘That’s right. And I think it’s nice to see that happening here. Neighbours helping neighbours. We actually have a decent little community here. Quite rare nowadays. But that Fiona ... I’m sure I recognise her from somewhere.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, I haven’t actually spoken to her, but she looks familiar. Do you know where she’s from?’
‘Somewhere in Australia.’
‘I wasn’t expecting you to say that. Maybe I don’t know her. To be honest, a lot of young women look the same to me these days. She’s not as attractive as your Emma, though, I’ll say that.’ She winked at me. ‘You’re a lucky man.’
‘I . . . Thanks.’
I could see her trying to read my expression, perhaps surprised by my muted reaction. I was gripped by an urge to ask her if she and her late husband had ever been through rocky patches, if she had ever felt hurt and betrayed by Alan. But I already knew the answer. Of course their marriage would have had difficult spells. Every marriage did. My own parents hadn’t weathered their marital storm; they’d run aground and gone their separate ways. I was still determined that Emma and I would – at the risk of stretching this metaphor too far – get back in the boat and sail on together.
‘I’d better get home,’ I said. ‘Let’s hope for good news about Albie.’
‘I’ll mention him in my prayers tonight.’
I went back over the road and into the house. Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door. It was Rose, with Fiona. Rose insisted that Fiona come in and I didn’t argue. Fiona was still barefoot, her toenails painted turquoise. I noticed she was wearing make-up now too. Lipstick, the same peach shade that Emma wore.
‘Did you come up with a name?’ I asked, once we were in the kitchen.
‘We did. Rose had loads of great suggestions but we went with Karma.’
‘I like it. After the Taylor Swift song?’
Fiona looked at me blankly. ‘Taylor . . . ?’
‘You’ve never heard of Taylor Swift? She’s the biggest pop star on the planet.’
‘Oh, yes, of course I’ve heard of her. I just don’t know that song.’ She seemed flustered – and I could feel Rose looking at me disapprovingly.
‘My dad always does this. Shames people for their music knowledge.’
‘No I don’t!’
‘It’s fine,’ Fiona said. ‘We can’t all be hip and cool in our middle age.’
Was there an edge to her voice? A trace of sarcasm? Also – middle age? I was only forty-three and Fiona certainly wasn’t middle-aged.
‘Are you going to ask him?’ Rose said.
‘Ask me what?’
Fiona smiled, any trace of annoyance vanishing. ‘I was going to make a suggestion. You and Emma are both at work Tuesday to Friday, aren’t you? Rose told me that Dylan usually has to stay home to watch her, and that you were thinking of signing her up for a holiday club.’
‘Which I really don’t want to go to,’ said Rose. ‘It’s so lame.’
‘It’s really not lame,’ I said, irritated that this word had popped up again. The club was a local scheme, run by the council, that put on activities for tweens: sports, team-building, video games, volunteering in the community. I had thought it sounded ideal for Rose. It would stop her moping around the house complaining of being bored, and it meant Dylan wouldn’t be stuck at home looking after her. ‘The alternative is having to come and hang out at the shop with me.’
Rose groaned.
‘There is another alternative,’ said Fiona. ‘I could watch her for you. I don’t start my new job until September so I’m at a loose end, and I’d be very happy to take Rose under my wing for a few weeks. And, before you ask, I wouldn’t want any money.’
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. ‘You’re offering free babysitting?’
Rose folded her arms. ‘I am not a baby.’
‘Sorry. Childminding.’
Rose narrowed her eyes. Did she disapprove of ‘child’ now too?
‘It’s just a word, Rose.’
‘Whatever you want to call it,’ Fiona said, jumping in, ‘I’m offering my services. It would be my pleasure, and I’d make it educational and healthy. We can go on trips, go for walks in the park, look round museums.’
‘Play with Karma,’ said Rose.
‘Absolutely. Karma is going to be a big part of it.’ Fiona smiled.
‘ Please , Dad,’ said Rose. ‘I really don’t want to go to the holiday club. I want to do stuff with Fiona. It will save you money too. You won’t have to pay for the stupid club.’
That was true. It was relatively cheap for what it was, but it was still a substantial chunk of our income. Any savings would be welcome.
‘I know you can’t give a decision now,’ Fiona said. ‘You’ll have to ask Emma.’
‘I bet she’ll say no.’ Rose stuck out her bottom lip, just as she’d done when she was three. She might not be a baby anymore but she could act like one when she thought it would help her. ‘She never wants me to do anything I want to do.’
‘I’m sure that’s not true,’ Fiona said.
‘It isn’t,’ I said. ‘It’s just that Rose knows I’m a softer touch – don’t you, Rose?’
‘Can you call her now, at work?’ Rose asked, not smiling. ‘Please?’
‘She might be busy.’
‘She’s always busy.’
I took a deep breath. ‘Rose, I’ll talk to your mum when she gets home. Okay?’
‘But you think it’s all right?’ Before I had a chance to reply she said, ‘Thanks, Dad. Please try to make her see sense.’
I found myself saying, ‘I’ll try.’
She ran up the stairs, shouting, ‘Bye, Fiona,’ as she went.
I met Fiona’s eye. ‘Why do I feel like I’ve just been twisted around someone’s finger?’
She laughed. ‘Dads and daughters. But, listen, if it makes either you or Emma feel uncomfortable, I won’t be offended. I just want you to know the offer’s there. It would be my pleasure.’
‘Thank you. What is your new job, by the way? The one you start in September?’
‘If I told you the details you’d die of boredom, but I’ll be working for a bank. Right, I’d better get back to Karma.’ She paused. ‘Taylor Swift. I must remember that. Maybe listen to some of her music?’
I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from offering to make her a playlist. Instead, I said, ‘I’m sure Rose will insist on it.’
Fiona ran one hand along her bare arm. I could see all the fine little hairs standing on end, as if she were cold. Maybe she didn’t feel the heat, having grown up in Western Australia. Perhaps she didn’t think this scorching weather was actually hot.
‘Rose is so lucky, having a cool dad who knows about music and stuff.’
‘That’s what I keep telling her.’
‘I might not be as cool as you, but I promise if you let me look after her we’ll have fun.’ She looked me in the eye, biting her lower lip. ‘It will be the best summer of her life.’