Chapter Fifty-Three
After Lisa had gone, I had a long leisurely shower. The water rained over my head, washing away the day’s unexpected shocks and surprises.
When I emerged from the bathroom in pyjamas and a towel turban, it was to find Cindy sprawled out on the sofa-cum-bed.
‘You’ll have to make room for me later,’ I warned. ‘That space is not exclusively yours.’
Cindy opened one eye.
I’ll budge up when you’re ready to get under the duvet. Anyway, you can’t go to bed with wet hair. You’ll soak the pillow.
‘I’ll have a soaked pillow anyway,’ I sighed. ‘I want the luxury of an undisturbed fit of crying.’
About Jake?
‘Of course about Jake,’ I sighed again. I went to the sideboard. Rummaged within. Extracted the hairdryer. Found a handy electrical socket. ‘I’m appalled that everyone at work now knows my secret.’ I stood in front of the mirror and switched on the hairdryer. ‘Apart from my boss,’ I shouted over the noise. ‘But it won’t take long for him to find out. Talk about dying of embarrassment.’
Never mind that. How did you feel?
‘What do you mean?’
How did you feel when this stranger told you he was your son?
I considered the question while the dryer whooshed my hair about.
‘I couldn’t take it in,’ I answered. ‘Not at first. And yet, perversely, I knew immediately who he was. I felt it here.’ I touched my heart with my free hand. ‘It was weird. Devastating. Shattering. But, embarrassment aside, I’m also feeling so happy, Cindy.’
I’m pleased for you. You’ve been burdened for too long. Your mum and dad wanted to forget it ever happened and encouraged you to do the same. But you know what?
‘I know what you’re going to say.’ I looked at my dog, enjoying this imaginary – but therapeutic – conversation.
The truth will always out.
‘Indeed,’ I agreed. ‘And you know what else?’
What?
‘I’m glad. It’s a relief. And Cindy, you should see Jake. He is so handsome. I know I’m probably biased, but he really is. All those times I saw him outside the shop window, I thought he looked familiar. And now I know why. He is so like Nicholas. But I can see me in him too. The shape of his face. His eyebrows.
And where is Nicholas?
I bit my lip.
‘I don’t know.’ I paused to brush some tangled hair. ‘Now that I’ve got over the initial shock of being reunited with my son, Nicholas has been on my mind. Ever since Jake revealed who he was, so many questions have been tumbling over and over in my head.
Such as?
‘Like… where is Nicholas? Will I see him again? How do I feel about that possibility? Is he married? Has he had kids?’
And what if he’s not married? Cindy mused. And what if you both met up and fell in love all over again?
‘That thought did fleetingly occur to me,’ I confessed. ‘But, that said, I’m not convinced we were ever in love in the first place. We were kids , for goodness’ sake. What do teenagers know of love?’
Some people would say “plenty”. After all, you hear stories of childhood sweethearts growing old together.
‘You do,’ I said, with a pang of sadness.
It was all very well revisiting the past and wondering what might have been. Whether – pregnancy aside – Nicholas and I might have been childhood sweethearts who went on to grow old together. But I also knew that the odds were likely on us fizzling out. That we’d have moved on. As youngsters so often do.
I fell silent, concentrating on finishing my blow-dry. Eventually, when my hair fell in a smooth sheet past my shoulders, I pulled the plug from the socket.
‘I have other questions too,’ I said to Cindy as I wound the flex around the dryer.
Tell me.
‘About Jake’s adoptive parents. Like… who were they? I’d have particularly loved to meet the woman who raised him. Would I have liked her? Would she have been a kindred spirit? What did she look like? What – for that matter – did they both look like?’
Perhaps, if you ask Jake, he can show you some photographs.
‘Yes,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right.’
At that moment there was a knock on the door. Cindy leapt off the sofa-cum-bed and gave a warning woof.
‘Only me,’ said a familiar voice.
Milo.
And despite feeling peaky and worn out, a frisson of excitement rippled down my spine. Cindy was still waiting by the door, now slowly wagging her tail.
‘C-Coming,’ I stuttered, reaching for my ancient dressing gown. I needed to cover my awful pyjamas. ‘Two ticks,’ I dithered. Was it possible to shimmy into a little black dress and add full makeup in a matter of seconds?
Don’t be ridiculous, Mum. Hurry up and let Milo in.
‘Yes,’ I muttered, hastening to the door. ‘I don’t need to impress him anyway. Not that I could, even if I wanted to. After all, this is a man who is king when it comes to swiping right.’
I opened the door.
‘Hey!’ I pasted a welcoming smile on my face. What I lacked in glamour, could be made up for in warmth.
‘God,’ was Milo’s opening gambit. ‘You look how I feel.’
I dropped the smile.
‘Thanks,’ I said, taken aback.
‘No offence meant,’ said Milo. He gave my scruffy robe the once over. ‘I popped by to apologise for not being here when you arrived. It’s been a bit of a day.’ He pulled a face. ‘Work,’ he explained. ‘And kids,’ he added. ‘Well, just the one, but’ – he grimaced – ‘it doesn’t matter how old they are, they’re always a worry.’
I gave him a look of sympathy.
‘I’ve had a bit of a day too.’
‘Sorry to hear that. I was going to ask you if you fancied a drink at the pub, but I can see you’re ready for bed. Bit early, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, that’s kind of you. But yes, I am ready for bed. And anyway, I’ve already been to the pub. With my buddy, Lisa,’ I added. ‘For various reasons, our boss let us leave the office sooner rather than later. Lisa helped me move my stuff in, and then we had something to eat at the Starlight Arms. I met Cilla, the landlady.’
‘And survived!’ Milo smiled. ‘Cilla is terrifying.’
‘A little bit,’ I admitted.
‘Do you fancy a nightcap at the cottage?’ Milo asked. Was it my imagination, or was there hope in his eyes. ‘I haven’t eaten yet and as JJ has naffed off I wouldn’t mind some company while rustling up beans on toast.’
I hesitated. The thought of spending one-to-one time with Milo was making my heart do more dives than a Red Arrows plane. However, I felt hideously gauche in my nightwear.
‘That would be nice,’ I said. ‘Give me a moment to get changed.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ said Milo. ‘Come as you are. Who is there to impress?’
You.
‘No one,’ I agreed .