Chapter 24
Noah had had an impromptu visit from Paul again this morning but when he saw the car pull up, he’d purposely run with Eva to the back of the house and closed the kitchen door, where he’d stayed until the knocking ceased and he was sure Paul had gone. He knew he’d have to face the guy sooner or later but he was still fuming at his audacity, asking for money, proving that he had zero interest in Eva. What sort of man could do that? He had no idea but he did know if Paul was to come here before he’d had a chance to calm down some more, Noah might well kill him with his bare hands.
It was the height of summer, which meant the days went on forever, sunlight lasted and lasted, but still Noah had the curtains in the house closed at the front. Nobody could get around the back, not without scaling fences and bushes, so at least that was something. Eva had refused to go down for her nap today and so every time she picked up one of her toys, he cringed at its volume in case Paul came to the door and he would know they were inside.
Before he became Eva’s guardian, Noah would have assumed that babies who skipped a daytime sleep would sleep for much longer at night. But it didn’t work that way. She was grouchy and his attempt to put her down early had met with screams and the kind of sobbing you couldn’t ignore unless you were prepared to have your heart totally broken.
He was pacing in the lounge, shushing Eva, the little girl in his arms with barely open eyes by now. She was fighting the sleep, or she was so overtired her body wouldn’t let her settle. And whatever he tried didn’t work. He attempted to sing a lullaby – that went about as well as if he’d blasted out Metallica on the stereo. He tried to give her a teething ring – she slung that across the room with a deft flick of her wrist and it crashed into a glass he’d left on the mantelpiece, sending it toppling to the floor with an almighty smash. It was as if the universe knew this was a trying time for Noah, more so than usual, and it wanted to make him doubly pay for even wishing this guy Paul into their lives.
Noah had to leave Eva to scream in her cot while he cleaned up the glass and made sure every last speck of it was gone from the rug and it had been torture listening to her cry for him, but he had no choice.
Her tear-stained face when he finally went to get her rested against his cheek but she began to settle in his arms as he paced in the lounge, jostling her up and down a little by bending his knees as he walked.
A knock at the door sent him hot-footing it out to the kitchen at the back.
‘Shit.’ He’d have thought he’d hear the roar of that obnoxious engine on Paul’s car which had one of those annoying exhausts boy racers thought were a status symbol, the sort of exhaust that pissed off everyone within a mile’s radius apart from the car’s occupant, who was convinced it gave him bigger balls than anything else.
The knocks kept coming. Did this guy ever give up? He’d said he’d be in touch, but Noah hadn’t expected him to be this persistent, showing up twice in one day.
With Eva quiet apart from the odd whimper, he tiptoed out of the kitchen and hovered at the door to the lounge, which he’d left open this time. And then he heard a voice coming through the letterbox. And it wasn’t Paul’s.
He went into the hallway and opened up the door. ‘Maya.’
Her face registered his exhaustion.
‘Oh, God, I shouldn’t have come. You’ve got your hands full?—’
He reached out with one arm before she could turn and leave and he tugged her gently to come inside. ‘I have but I don’t mind you being here. I could use the company.’
She closed the door behind her and followed him into the lounge. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely.’ And right now, he really needed a friend.
She took one look at him and then at Eva and held out her arms. ‘Give her to me for a bit; sometimes a change is good. If you’re tense, she’ll pick up on it.’
He expected Eva to make a fuss as he handed her over, but she didn’t; she nuzzled her head against Maya’s neck as if she knew her.
‘It’s been a day,’ he told Maya, but the way she looked at him had him adding, ‘Who am I kidding? It’s been months of total chaos and not knowing what the hell I’m doing.’
‘I know the feeling.’ Maya seemed content holding Eva. Perhaps she needed the cuddle too.
‘How long can you stay?’
‘A while,’ she smiled.
‘Then we’re going to need coffee, hot chocolate or a beer.’
‘Hot chocolate, please,’ she said softly, the little girl still in her arms, lulled into what looked very much like a wind-down routine. Maya had the magic touch.
While he made the hot chocolates, Maya went into the lounge. From where he was, he heard the soft strains of Maya singing a lullaby and by the time he went through with the two mugs, Eva had fallen asleep.
Noah led the way to Eva’s bedroom, which was already dimly lit, and Maya lowered her inside the cot before he pulled up the rail as quietly as possible.
They tiptoed away, collected the hot chocolates from the lounge and headed out back. He excused himself straight away though and went back to put the chain on the front door, have a peep through the curtains to be sure there was no sign of Paul.
When he joined Maya again on the back porch, he talked as though everything was fine. ‘I didn’t expect to see you this evening.’
‘It was spur of the moment. One minute, I was exhausted and pissed off with Conrad, then I was in the bath trying to relax, then I was dressed and coming here.’
He knew he shouldn’t be thinking it when he had so much other stuff on his mind, but he liked the connection between her in the bath and then coming to see him.
‘What’s he done this time?’ It was easier to focus on someone else’s problems than delve into his own, at least for tonight.
‘Nothing different to usual.’ She sounded weary and he wondered how long this guy had been a pain for her; had it been their whole marriage? ‘It’s wearing me down, that’s all.’
Noah took a sip of hot chocolate, in far more need of this than a beer. Having Eva had been a massive change in the obvious ways – moving here to Whistlestop River, exchanging a bachelor pad for a cottage, having responsibility. But being a parent to his niece had subtly softened his edges too – he made sure he got as much sleep as he could so that he was alert and available for Eva, he spent more time at home between shifts, and now he chose hot chocolate rather than alcohol.
There was a gentle breeze out here on the back porch and it was still light but cool, so at least he wouldn’t have to worry about Eva waking because she was too hot.
Maya’s fingers threaded through the handle of her mug. ‘How did it go with Eva’s biological father?’ One look told her all she needed to know. ‘That bad?’
He ran a free hand across the back of his neck. ‘He floated the idea that instead of him going for custody, we come to some sort of arrangement.’
She sat forwards. ‘That could be a really good thing. Visitation rights. Then you’ll keep Eva in your life, you both get to see her, she’ll have two father figures.’
‘Yeah, don’t get too excited. That wasn’t exactly what he meant.’ Tension built inside him again. ‘By arrangement, Paul meant that I pay him a sum of money – twenty thousand – and he’ll drop his case for child custody. He’ll disappear again, so he says.’
Maya’s reaction was almost the same as his had been when Paul suggested it – at least in terms of shock. She probably didn’t have the same urge to punch the guy in the face, though.
‘He wants you to pay him to keep Eva in your life? What a lowlife, and that’s way too polite for him. Who does that?’
The biggest dickhead to walk the earth?
‘Not anyone nice or a person with morals. I could’ve strangled him when he said it. It’s lucky for him I was holding Eva.’
‘Surely you say no and when he tries to get custody, you let your lawyer know what he suggested. That shows exactly what type of man he is: not the sort you want parenting a young child, no matter the blood ties.’
‘Nice in theory,’ Noah sighed. ‘But he says if I say anything, he’ll switch it around and tell everyone that it was me who offered him money to take Eva. After all, I’ve given up a lot to be here. My girlfriend left me, I gave up my apartment, my job in London, the life I once had. And I’m afraid that with him being the father, and with that accusation, he’ll be believed and he’ll get Eva.’
Maya set down her mug. ‘I didn’t realise you were in a relationship.’
‘I was, but it’s fine, honestly. Eva coming into my life so suddenly taught me about the woman I was with. I have no regrets that we ended, none at all.’ He was sure about that, especially since meeting Maya.
She waited a beat. ‘Can I ask you something? And when I say this, I really don’t mean to offend.’
‘Go on.’
‘Do you want to be a full-time dad to Eva? Permanently?’
He hesitated before answering. ‘If you’d asked me that question when I first came here, I would’ve said no, that I was doing it out of duty to Cassie, and that I thought her biological father would be the better parent.’
‘And now?’
‘Now I know what Paul is like, I know without a doubt I don’t want him anywhere near Eva. And it isn’t only that. With every day that passes, I love Eva that little bit more and I’m beginning to realise how hard it’ll be to imagine her not in my life on a full-time basis.’
He finished his hot chocolate and set the empty mug down on the ground. ‘I haven’t told you what else I found.’
And as the sun showed signs of getting ready to give up for the day, Noah told her what had happened after Paul left earlier today.
Noah had given Eva lunch and for once, she ate it quite happily. It was a small victory that made him feel like he was getting somewhere with this parenting lark, which only served to remind him that it might well not be forever, and he was all over the place with how to feel about that.
Noah smiled at Eva as she finished up the last of the stewed lamb and carrots. He’d served it in the little plastic bowl and spoon he’d picked up from the supermarket when Eva started on solids because he hadn’t had the time or energy to go through all of Cassie’s things to find the little set his sister had bought for her daughter. He’d felt bad not finding it, but he’d been focused on survival. Today, however, he felt he was doing a disservice to his sister’s memory. She’d shown him the set when Eva was only two months old, every day getting closer to when she’d be able to use it herself. Cassie couldn’t wait to see it. And then she’d been gone before Eva had a chance to reach that particular milestone.
And it was that memory that had led him to search for the set. He’d shoved a whole load of boxes way up high in the wardrobe in Eva’s room when he moved into the old signal box cottage with every intention of going through them at some point. And that point hadn’t arrived until now.
‘Where is it?’ he sighed. Eva had shuffled over to the baby gym she didn’t use now unless it was to tug at its parts and see what moved, what made a noise, what didn’t do much at all.
He climbed onto a chair and pulled out a box he’d pushed onto the uppermost shelf. He rifled through it to find the tiny sleepsuits Eva had worn when she first came home from the hospital. It was hard to believe she’d ever been that small. He put the box down by the door. Those would go to a charity shop for someone else to use now she’d grown out of them. He pulled out another plastic bag filled with muslin squares and wraps that would be too small for Eva, followed by a much bigger box. That one was filled with Cassie’s stuff, however, not Eva’s. He put it on the floor out of the way so he could yank out the bag from the very back which almost tumbled down on top of him.
Settled on the floor, with Eva amusing herself with the wooden shape sorter he’d bought her for her first birthday, Noah opened up the bag. First, he took out the monitor and set it to one side; maybe he’d use it at some point, could be handy. And then he pulled out the set: the cream plate and bowl made of the type of thick plastic necessary for babies and toddlers so it would survive being dropped, thrown, bashed against things. ‘Bingo.’
He handed the plate to Eva and she grabbed it like it was a new toy. He jerked back when she waved it in the air and almost collided with his lip.
He pointed to the picture on the base of the plate. A giraffe. ‘Can you say giraffe, Eva?’ he asked. ‘Gi-raffe… gi-raffe.’ When she didn’t respond with anything other than a grin, he shrugged. ‘It’s a hard word.’
The set also had a knife and a fork, but he wasn’t about to hand those over, and the plate had lost its allure already because she’d let it fall from her grasp. Instead, she’d shuffled over to the big teddy bear on the bottom shelf of the bookcase and pulled it out before pushing her face into its fur.
With Eva content, he took the opportunity to go through the box of Cassie’s things. It would be a start to getting this place straight, although right now he couldn’t get his head around the long term, what it meant now that Paul was in the picture.
He hadn’t predicted what an emotional slap in the face it would be opening up the box. He would’ve thought seeing his sister’s photo pinned to his fridge or in the frame in Eva’s bedroom every day would be what brought on a tidal wave of grief each time, but this was worse. These were her things, her personal things. He took out a little recipe book bursting with Post-its and all held together with a band; there was the little Victorian teddy bear she’d got from their parents on her eighteenth birthday; the leather purse she’d used for years, old and worn and touched by his sister a thousand times over.
He didn’t want to cry. Not with Eva watching him now.
He picked up the Victorian teddy bear, checked it for any choking hazards – another habit he’d got into pretty quickly – and handed it to her. ‘This was your mum’s. I think she’d really like you to have it.’
Eva took it with glee and it made Noah laugh out loud, particularly when she squished it into her face the same way as she’d done with the other one. Maybe that was her way of introducing herself to teddy bears, he had no idea. What he did know was that her dribble had now been transferred to this toy but he also knew without a doubt that if Cassie were here, the look on her daughter’s face would mean the world. Because it did for him.
Noah had packed up Cassie’s flat in a daze shortly after the funeral. It was horrible; the clothes had been the worst thing because it made her feel so alive in his mind’s eye, but a mate from work had helped him and between them, they’d dealt with it all reasonably quickly. The clothes went to the charity shop at the end of the road, the place Cassie often shopped herself. They’d thrown a lot of stuff away – pens and stationery that wouldn’t be used, the food from the cupboards – and those funny fruit teas she always drank were taken away by his work colleague.
Noah had kept some things for Eva – Cassie’s china trinket box with roses on its lid, the vintage jewellery box with a velvet interior, Cassie’s favourite blanket in duck-egg blue, jewellery including his sister’s favourite white-gold, aquamarine pendant she wore when she went out somewhere posh. She said it made her feel glamorous, even though it wasn’t expensive.
He’d also kept all the documents from Cassie’s bureau drawers, knowing he’d have to sort through those. And here they were. Piles and piles of them.
Eva, to her credit, played contentedly while he sorted through bills, making an enormous pile ready to shred. And she was still happy enough when Noah pulled out a small folder containing letters.
He recognised Cassie’s handwriting on the letters and when he pulled out one after the other, he realised these were the letters Cassie had sent to their mum before their mum passed away. They’d both enjoyed corresponding that way; it hadn’t mattered that a text message or phone call was easier. They’d both argued that there was nothing like old-fashioned pen to paper and so they’d kept up the habit. Letters had gone back and forth for years. He remembered now that when their mother died, Cassie wanted to take all her letters back to put with those from their mum, for her own memories. And here they all were.
Noah opened up another one and between laughs and emotional tugs, he read correspondence about the time Cassie had gone to Glastonbury and was the only one of her friends who had worn wellies for the mud; he read about Cassie’s first day at her job and how nervous she was; he read the letter from his mum that talked about her frustration when she sprained her ankle and couldn’t do her garden for over a week; the letter in which his mum shared a new recipe for an apple and cinnamon loaf.
Noah should’ve done this sooner. It made him feel closer to Cassie, closer to their mum. It was oddly cathartic.
At the bottom of the box was a photo album and he flipped through it after he’d passed the bigger teddy bear to Eva when she got fed up with the Victorian one and didn’t seem willing to bum shuffle her way over to get the other.
In the album were pictures of him and Cassie, the night they’d gone to a dress-up party in bubble wrap – he couldn’t remember who had the crazy idea, but he’d fashioned a bubble wrap hat and tie and Cassie had a skirt somehow coloured in bright pink. There were photographs of Cassie’s holiday to Greece with friends. She looked so happy, so full of life. There was one of her and her best friend Justine, their cheeks pressed together as they smiled into the camera lens, their grins demonstrative of the strong bond they’d always had. Justine had been devasted at the funeral, barely able to deliver her eulogy, and she’d come to talk to Noah at the wake, something he appreciated given her own grief was so raw.
As he put the album back and lifted the box into his arms to put it away again, he remembered what Justine had said to him that day: ‘You’ll be a far better father to Eva. She’s lucky to have you; it’s what Cassie wanted.’
At the time, he’d not really registered the exact phrasing, or perhaps he had but his own interpretation was that his sister had wanted him to be Eva’s guardian should anything happen to her and he’d be a good enough choice. He hadn’t thought anything other than that. But now, as those words came back to him, he wondered whether Justine might know more about Paul than he did, whether Cassie had been more honest with her best friend than her brother.
As Noah tried to get Eva down for her daytime nap, the thought continued to niggle at him.
And it was still playing on his mind when he gave up on the nap and instead took Eva into the lounge where she had plenty more toys. Except she wasn’t having any of it. The only thing she wanted was to sit on his lap and so eventually he relented and ended up watching a football game, partly relieved she was staring at all the colours, partly feeling like a terrible parent for resorting to the television option.
But his interest wasn’t on the game; it was on Justine and what she’d said. And with Eva in his arms when she grew bored of the game on television, he picked up his phone. He’d been emailing Justine on and off with the odd photograph of Eva and a short update on how they both were. They’d both wanted that, Eva a part of Cassie they could both share. He and Justine had planned the funeral together, being the two people who knew Cassie the best. Justine had been a godsend, grieving but doing her best to share with Noah as much as she knew about her best friend and the tastes that saw a funeral where mourners were not allowed to wear black, a wake that had lively music in the background, no sandwiches but savouries including quiche, samosas and wraps as well as three types of cake. All Cassie’s favourite foods.
He jostled Eva to keep her calm as he made the call.
He hadn’t been sure what Justine was going to tell him, whether she’d tell him anything much at all, but as she talked, he felt his body sag back against the sofa with the weight of responsibility for Eva’s lifelong happiness now resting entirely on his shoulders. Because now he’d spoken to Justine, Paul wasn’t someone he wanted within a hundred yards of his sister’s daughter.
Which meant he had a fight on his hands.