Chapter Twenty-five
Flynn baulked in surprise at finding Molly outside his door with the buggy. ‘Esme too?’
‘I had to bring her. My nan – Brenda – is out with her friends and I don’t want her to know I’m here. I don’t have a babysitter. Is that OK?’
‘Of course it is. It’s great,’ he said, trying to sound warm and welcoming. ‘Um, let me help you in.’
Together, they lifted the pushchair over the low step into the cottage and Flynn returned to the doorway.
While Molly unloaded Esme, he glanced to left and right, making sure no one was watching.
The last place he looked was Lara’s window before he finally closed the door.
The cottage was in darkness, as he’d expected. She should be at her dance class now.
After unstrapping Esme from her pushchair, Molly carried her into the sitting room ahead of Flynn. Esme stared back at Flynn like a baby owl. He wasn’t sure whether to stare back, smile, or try to make conversation with her.
‘This is cosy,’ Molly said, looking around the room with unabashed curiosity.
‘You think?’ Flynn’s palms were sweaty with nerves.
‘It’s smart. Minimal. I suppose I kind of expected it to be grander.’
He smiled. ‘Not for the staff.’
‘It still looks like a holiday let on changeover day. Too tidy to be a real home. If you know what I mean …’
‘I do,’ he said. ‘I left a lot of my stuff in mum and dad’s garage. You have to travel light on the bike and this place came fully furnished.’
Molly wrinkled her nose. ‘Not very Christmassy, though, is it?’
‘I haven’t had time and, to be honest, I’m all Christmased out after a day surrounded by illuminated reindeer and Christmas tunes on a loop.’
Molly nodded. ‘Yeah, I can understand that.’
‘Would you like to sit down?’ He grabbed a blanket. ‘Esme can use this so she can play on the floor. Does she crawl yet? I can move anything that might be dangerous, but, like you say, I don’t have much stuff.’
‘Thanks, and she can crawl a bit.’ Molly deposited Esme on the fleece blanket and sat cross-legged beside her. ‘I’ll stay down here to keep an eye on her. Would you mind fetching her bag from underneath the buggy?’
Flynn was very happy to do so, as it gave him a few extra seconds to compose himself.
He marvelled at how well-organised Molly was.
She unearthed a variety of toys from the bag, along with bottles, blankets and spare clothes, before repacking it.
She was even more organised than Flynn was when he packed the bike.
‘How’s that, then, baba?’ she asked, handing a plastic giraffe to Esme. ‘Here’s Sophie. It’s her favourite.’
He smiled. ‘That bag’s like Mary Poppins’ one. Bottomless.’
‘I need to make sure I’ve got at least three of everything.’
‘I must be hard work, managing on your own …’ he said, watching his daughter playing with his granddaughter, and trying to get used to even thinking those two words, let alone using them out loud.
Sooner or later, however, he would have to get used to it.
The realisation hit him like a sucker punch: everything in his life had changed for ever.
‘I’ve got Nan to help,’ Molly said, as Esme crawled towards a wooden car. ‘And Mum when she has leave from work or is between contracts.’
‘What about Esme’s dad? Does he ever look after her?’ Flynn asked, trying to recover himself.
‘We’re not together any more, but that’s fine with me,’ Molly said, sounding as if she’d said the line many times before.
She must have had a lot to deal with in her young life.
‘He works at the nuclear power station up the coast. He does visit Esme sometimes, and he helps out a bit, financially, but he wasn’t the one and I’m not wasting my time with someone who isn’t the one. ’
Flynn nodded and sat down, briefly at a loss as to how to reply. ‘By the way … I do remember your mum. Even though we were only together … for a very short time, I thought she was a lovely person. She had a great sense of humour too.’
Molly smiled. ‘We both do. Did you actually know where she lived?’
‘Somewhere up north.’ He grimaced.
Molly sniggered. ‘Up north? That’s a big area!’
‘I thought she said Yorkshire. Sorry, I was nineteen and clearly geography wasn’t a strong point.’
Molly rolled her eyes. ‘I’m only nineteen and I know the difference between Cumbria and Yorkshire.
And where Cornwall is,’ she said, again making him feel like the child being told off by a parent.
Then again, she’d had to grow up fast with Esme to look after.
‘And she did live in Yorkshire. We both did until I was two, when we moved to Cumbria. That’s where she met my stepdad. Ex-stepdad.’
Stepdad. So, another man had been part of Molly’s life, rather than him? Flynn’s stomach turned over with jealousy and guilt that he hadn’t been there. It was an emotion he’d rarely experienced and it felt toxic.
‘He didn’t stick around long,’ Molly said, as if she could read Flynn’s thoughts. ‘Mum kicked him out after a couple of years.’
Sitting up on her mat, Esme gurgled and batted the green frog on her baby gym.
‘It’s no use trying to change the past,’ Flynn said, not sure if he meant that or not. What else could he say? ‘You said your mum isn’t often around? Do you live with her?’
‘Mum’s usually abroad. She’s a holiday rep supervisor, so she moves around a lot.
We both live with my nan. Mum shares the house with her.
It saves rent and keeps Nan company since my grandad died.
’ Molly laughed, a warm laugh that triggered a powerful memory of her mother more than anything had before – because no memories had been triggered before.
‘Esme and me are lucky to have a home with Nan, and Mum when she’s here.’
‘That must be tough for your mum, being away from you all.’
‘She loves her job and obviously she needs the money, but it means she’ll miss Christmas with Esme.’
‘I understand,’ he said, though he wondered if he would ever understand anything again.
Esme made grunting sounds, which Molly seemed to understand. ‘She’s overtired.’
‘She looks lively enough to me,’ Flynn said, as Esme bashed the living daylights out of her toy penguin. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Water will be fine, thanks.’
When he returned with a glass for her and for himself, Esme was sorting through her wooden blocks, examining and trying to chew them.
Flynn was fascinated by every tiny movement and expression. Was she really his flesh and blood? He cleared his throat and sipped the water.
‘What about you?’ Molly asked from the floor. ‘You haven’t said if you have any other kids. Though from the shock on your face when I turned up, I assumed not. You’re on your own, so I guess they could live with their mum, but I kind of assumed you didn’t.’
He had to smile. She was a shrewd character, perhaps world-weary by nature – like himself. ‘No, I don’t have any kids. Any other kids,’ he corrected himself, feeling like he would never get used to this new reality.
‘Have you ever been married? Or is that woman from the café your girlfriend? She’s the manager here, isn’t she? I googled her too after you left,’ Molly said.
‘Did you know who I was before I came into the café?’
‘I knew you’d started work at the castle. I’d overheard the gossip and, when you walked in, one of the staff mentioned it to my boss. She’s the one who didn’t want me hanging around your table.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Flynn murmured. ‘Were you sure it was me – I mean that I was your dad?’
‘I was pretty sure. I mean, I was sure, I suppose, but I couldn’t quite believe it. It was so weird, seeing you sitting there with your friend – Lara, isn’t it? – and telling myself it was you.’ Molly fiddled nervously with a toy brick. ‘Have you told her about me?’
‘No. Not yet.’ Flynn’s heart sank. It was only two days ago that he’d told Lara he had no skeletons in his cupboard, no commitments. How was he going to tell her about this?
‘Is she your girlfriend? Won’t she want to know?’
‘We’re just friends,’ Flynn said, not wanting to go into detail and still unsure of his exact relationship with Lara. Whatever it was – or was going to be – it would surely have to change. God, he didn’t know how to tell her or how to deal with it.
‘You seemed more than friends to me,’ Molly said sagely.
‘I can tell from the body language. I like watching people. I was doing Psychology A level at college before I had to take a break to have Esme. I’d like to be a child psychologist one day.
’ Molly ruffled Esme’s hair but there was a wistful tone to her comment.
She’d had to put her dream on hold at a very young age to devote herself to her daughter.
He admired her for it. So many plans had been shattered in a moment.
‘If it’s not Lara, is there anyone else?’ Molly went on, with the boldness of youth.
‘No, no one else. Not now.’
‘Now? You’re thirty-nine, and you’re still single?’
‘Erm … I suppose I am,’ Flynn said, not knowing how else to answer.
‘It’s not easy finding the right person to make a commitment to,’ Molly said, handing a wooden block to Esme that was just out of her reach.
‘You see, I thought Esme’s dad might have been the one, but I soon realised he wasn’t.
He’s harmless enough, according to Nan, but he’s not for ever material or dad material. ’
Not dad material. The words were like yet another sucker punch. They were a bit too similar to the words Abi had used about him.
‘I’ve only just started my new job here …’ Flynn added.
Esme bashed her penguin with a wooden hammer and babbled, ‘Ba ba ba.’
‘Hmm. OK. It’s only I thought you might have taken the job because of Lara – or someone.’
‘I didn’t know her before I came to Ravendale,’ he said, skating over the detail that he had met Lara before, although briefly. ‘I was asked to start early. They needed someone urgently for the role and I thought the castle would be a great place to work. Who wouldn’t want to live up here?’