“And I told him that I thought you were great,” he added. “That you’ve coped remarkably well with all my shit and that he should be grateful to have you and not be sulking in some seedy hotel room.”

  Standing up, she leaned forward and gave him a grateful hug. “Thank you. That was very sweet of you.”

  “My pleasure. I just hope he listens.”

  They continued enjoying the croissants in silence, Fiona tending to Lily and refilling their mugs of tea every now and then. As the sun rose higher in the sky, it burned off the morning mist and sent warm, broad sunbeams streaming across the kitchen floor. Suddenly, in the distance, they heard the familiar sound of the front door slamming, then David’s voice in the hallway. “It’s only me!”

  Fiona looked across the table at Jake, the corners of her mouth turned down in mock dread. “I think we’re about to get our answer,” she whispered.

  “Daaaadeeee!” Lily flung herself at David’s legs as he walked into the room, and he scooped her up into his arms. “Hello, pumpkin pie. Oooh, I’ve missed you.” He kissed the side of her head, looking down at Fiona and Jake as he did so. He was expressionless, and Fiona still wasn’t sure whether he had arrived back home as a friend who was staying or a foe who had come to collect his things.

  “Jake?” He placed Lily back down on the floor. “Would you mind taking your sister upstairs to play? I’d like to talk to Fiona alone.”

  “Sure.” Jake, usually so fond of the teenager’s “in a minute” answer to everything, leapt to his feet without hesitation. “Come on, Lil. Let’s go.” Lifting her onto his hip, he left the room.

  “Hello.” David smiled sheepishly at her but didn’t move from his position near the door.

  “Hello.” She didn’t return the smile, unwilling to look conciliatory until she knew exactly where this conversation was heading.

  “I have been a complete and utter idiot,” he said amiably.

  She beamed in spite of herself. “Yes, you have. But I totally and utterly forgive you.” She rushed at him, her arms outstretched, and buried her face in his chest. “I’ve missed you.”

  He held her tightly. “I’ve missed you too. I seriously don’t know what I was thinking of.” He held her away from him and looked into her eyes. “And I can’t believe you’re letting me off this lightly.”

  Fiona sat back down. “Oh, you know me. Once the apologies are out of the way, I don’t see any point in sulking or bearing a grudge. It’s a waste of time.” She patted the chair Jake had vacated. “Come and sit down and I’ll make you a cup of tea.”

  Removing his coat, he hung it over the back of the chair and sat down with a heavy sigh. “God, it feels good to be home.”

  “Where did you go?” She felt happy to express an interest now.

  “A hotel that makes Motel 6 look like the Ritz. It had two stars, and you could see both of them through the ceiling.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Let’s put it this way, it was so bad the rats were throwing themselves on the traps.”

  She chuckled and handed him a mug of his favorite Earl Grey tea. “Good. I’m glad it was hellish. Serves you damn well right.”

  “Mea culpa.” He held his hands up. “I’m so sorry.”

  Fiona rolled her eyes. “You sound like your son. He’s been apologizing to me every five minutes as well.”

  “He gave me absolute hell on the phone last night.” David took a sip. “I must say, it felt weird being dressed down by my sixteen-year-old son. But he made perfect sense and, more important, made me realize what a fool I was being.”

  “We should listen to him more often. He’s a smart boy.”

  “Apart from when he decides to try Ecstasy.”

  “Ah, yes, that.” She made a face.

  David took her hand and squeezed it. “You did what you thought was right at the time, and I see that now. It did help build trust between you, and he did step up like a man and tell me what happened. I’ve got no excuse for overreacting, but I suppose it was all part and parcel of the shock of hearing that Jake had taken drugs and ended up in hospital. You bore the brunt of it.”

  She placed a finger up against his mouth. “Sssssh, let’s just put it behind us as one of those things.”

  He moved her hand away from his face but held on to it, stroking her thumb. “Okay, but first of all I just want to say that actually, in retrospect, I really appreciate what you did that night. I’ve been saying for ages that I want you and Jake to get on, and the minute you actually formed a bond over something, I came stomping along and ruined it all.”

  Fiona smiled benevolently. “Don’t worry, you haven’t ruined anything. In fact, Jake and I have become even closer since you walked out. He’s actually been worried about me, and about us, and calling all the time. Last night he said he wanted to come and stay here to make sure I was all right. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  David glowed with pride. “As you said, he’s a smart boy. And a nice one too, at heart. Shall I call him back down?”

  He went to stand up, but Fiona stopped him. “Hang on, I want to say something too. I’ve had a lot of time to think about that night, and while I appreciate everything you’re saying, I was wrong to keep it from you. I should have trusted you not to say anything. The adult relationship—not the parent-child one—should always be the keeper of any secrets, otherwise everything else spins out of control. I see that now. And I love you.” She removed her hand from his arm and let him stand up. “But that doesn’t mean you weren’t a complete nitwit for reacting the way you did.”

  “Thank you, darling.” He kissed the end of her nose. “I love you too.”

  He walked into the living room, where she heard him shout “Jake!” up the stairs.

  A couple of minutes later, he came back into the kitchen, with an excitable Lily tucked under one arm and Jake following closely behind, grinning from ear to ear. “Dad says everything’s okay now?” Jake looked at Fiona for verification.

  “It is. He’s still a nitwit, though.”

  “Never doubted it for a moment.” Jake smiled, then ducked down as his father tried to grab him in a playful headlock.

  Fiona looked at the clock. “My God, it’s still only seven-thirty. What shall we do for the rest of the day?”

  “Let’s celebrate,” said David.

  “Celebrate what?”

  “The start of a new family dynamic where we all listen to one another rather than squabble and embark with enthusiasm on the things we want to do together.”

  Fiona and Jake both looked dubious.

  “Well, do you think we could manage it just for today?” David asked with a note of desperation.

  “Okay,” said Jake. “I want to go to LaserQuest.”

  Fiona and David groaned.

  “I want to go to Macy’s and buy a sarong,” Fiona said.

  Jake and David groaned.

  “And I want to check out the new Apple Mac in PC World,” David said.

  Fiona and Jake groaned.

  “And you, little one…” David kissed Lily’s flushed cheek, “…can decide what we have for lunch.”

  “Pia!” she shouted her word for pizza.

  They all laughed. Pizza it would be.

  daddy fool

  Flicking idly through OK! magazine, Julia visibly balked at the sight of a woman dressed in what resembled an upturned frilly lampshade. Her sturdy little legs protruded from the bottom like two tree trunks, and her feet were squeezed into a pair of cork wedges that looked at least one size too small.

  She peered closely at the caption, intrigued to learn the identity of this hapless girl who appeared to have covered herself in glue and dived into a barrel marked “fashion victim.”

  Ah, thought Julia. The wife of a prominent football player and yet another example of the triumph of bad taste over too much money. She was a pretty girl and would have looked infinitely more stylish—and more comfortable—in a pair of well-fitting jeans and a T-shirt. Rotating her stiff neck, Julia checked her watch. Five more minutes to go before she could be freed from the overhead heater that was warming her newly applied hair highlights to perfection.

  It’s funny, she mused, the ridiculous lengths we go to in our bid to look as “naturally” beautiful as possible. Here she was, with a couple of dozen pieces of silver foil hanging off her head, her freshly manicured toes drying nicely with small pieces of cotton wool separating them, and her nether regions smarting slightly from the Brazilian waxing she’d had prior to the hair-on-her-head appointment.

  James, she presumed, had no idea of the arduous process involved in making her appear as blemish-free, hairless, and coiffured as she normally did. If he did, he certainly didn’t mention it, and Julia wasn’t going to draw attention to it. More important, he never complained about the regular, undeniably steep monthly bill from the salon.

  The machine above her head started to beep, bringing a junior stylist rushing to her side to inspect the progress. Gently peeling the foils apart, she peered at the curiously purplish gunk on Julia’s hair and declared it “ready to come off.”

  Getting to her feet, Julia was just about to stroll across to the sinks when she noticed Jade sitting in the reception area.

  “Excuse me,” she said to the young stylist. “Would you mind hanging on for just one minute? I’ve spotted someone I need to talk to.” Without waiting for an answer, she headed off toward the two large cream sofas where customers waited and perused the latest magazines showing a variety of dreadful “creative” hairstyles that no person in their right mind would ever dream of having.

  “Jade! Fancy seeing you here.”

  At first, Jade looked perplexed, clearly thrown by the sight of the foil-headed Medusa looming toward her. Then she recognized her friend. “Oh, hi, Julia. How goes it?”

  “It goes well, it goes very well, thank you. But never mind me…” Julia plonked herself down on the sofa next to her. “I hear you’re an auntie—how exciting!”

  A fleeting look of suspicion crossed Jade’s face as she scrutinized Julia’s smiling expression. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “Know what?”

  “It’s not Paul’s baby.”

  Julia frowned. “Sorry, I’m not with you…”

  “Deborah’s baby…it’s not Paul’s,” Jade repeated slowly, as if addressing an idiot.

  This time it sank in, and Julia recoiled slightly with surprise. “Not Paul’s?” She said it aloud to confirm she’d heard correctly, her mind whirring with confusion. “How do you know?”

  Jade raised her eyebrows and made a sucking noise through her teeth. “Well, one surefire way of knowing is that the baby is as white as the driven snow.”

  Unable to help herself, Julia clamped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God, did Paul have any idea?”

  “Nope. The first moment he suspected something was up was when the midwife handed him the baby and he noticed her exchanging an uncomfortable glance with the doctor.”

  “Madam?”

  Julia felt someone tapping her on the shoulder and turned to find the junior stylist standing there with an anxious look on her face. “I really should get the foils off your hair now.”

  “Yes, yes, in a minute.” Julia waved her away. “Don’t worry, if there’s a problem, it’ll be my fault.” She turned back to Jade.

  “I’m sure I’ve read that sometimes a baby with one black parent can look as if it’s white,” she said. “It has happened.”

  Jade nodded. “But not to someone as black as Paul. He’s one hundred percent Nigerian, as am I, and it would be unheard of if the baby didn’t have some African characteristics. This one has a shock of white blond hair.” She let out a long sigh. “Anyway, after holding the baby for a while, Paul took the doctor outside and asked her outright if she thought he could be the father. She said it was highly unlikely.”

  “Poor thing.” It was Julia’s gut reaction, but then it dawned on her that there might be another side to the story. “Was he upset?”

  “Devastated. Although I have to say that the rest of the family doesn’t exactly share that view. Honestly, we’re all rather relieved. It all happened so fast, and now my parents have renewed hope that he’ll now meet someone a bit more, well, God-fearing, I suppose.”

  “So the relationship is over?” Sensing that her chance for a Deborah-free future was about to fly out of the window, Julia felt almost as bereft as if it were her relationship that was in its death throes.

  Jade rolled her eyes. “I’ll say. Paul’s a very moral person, so it’s a little hard for him to see past the fact that his girlfriend has just given birth to another man’s child.” Another man. Up to now, the revelation had so taken Julia by surprise that she hadn’t even stopped to contemplate the fact that if Paul didn’t father the baby, then someone else must have.

  “So who’s the father then?” A small dribble of hair coloring trickled down Julia’s forehead and she wiped it away with the towel.

  “Dunno.” Jade shrugged. “But I do know that Deborah is a dark horse. I always had a funny feeling about her.”

  “Well, Paul must have asked her,” Julia pressed, aware of a small fluttering feeling in the pit of her chest.

  “He did, but she wouldn’t tell him who it was. She just kept saying how sorry she was. Sorry, my ass!” she scoffed. “It’s a bit late for that.”

  But Julia wasn’t listening anymore. She was staring into space, replaying her conversation with James from a couple of nights ago. He hadn’t said anything about the baby not being Paul’s. But then again, he’d said he’d only received a text message about the birth, so perhaps he didn’t know?

  The latter seemed like a reasonable explanation, but the minor flutter in Julia’s chest had now magnified to a significant thumping. It was a gut instinct about something her mind was trying to push out, but her subconscious kept shoving it forward, filling her with panic.

  She had to get out of here.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her stylist, Mario, looming into view, a worried look on his face.

  “Julia! Julia!” he shouted while still several paces away. “It has to come off now or we are all in big trouble. God knows what damage has been done already.” As he drew closer, he extended a hand and placed it through her arm, trying to coax her toward the basins at the back of the salon. But Julia slapped him away.

  “No,” she said firmly. “I have to leave.”

  “Leave?” He looked panic-stricken, clearly remembering what a tricky customer she could be when her hair didn’t turn out exactly how she wanted it. “You can’t go. Your hair will be ruined.”

  Another trickle of bleach ran down her face and she furiously wiped it away. “I don’t care if it turns fucking green,” she boomed. “There, I hope that was loud enough for everyone to hear that I take full responsibility for my actions.”

  Mario pursed his lips and made a zipping motion across his mouth, to indicate he had said all he was going to say. Jade said nothing, simply looking up at her with an expression of puzzlement.

  “As I said, I have to go. Send me the bill and I’ll get my coat another time.” With that, Julia walked out of the salon, foils flapping in her hair and still wearing the distinctive black robe. She hailed a cab directly outside.

  The kitchen clock clicked round to 7:00 P.M. as a car alarm wailed outside. But Julia didn’t notice either.

  She was sitting at the head of the kitchen table, a magazine open in front of her. But every time she tried to focus, the words and pictures seemed to distort and become fuzzy.

  The cordless phone was in her right hand, and she stared at it, desperate to call Deborah but willing herself not to. She wanted to ask James first.

  He’d called about half an hour ago to say he was on his way home, and with herculean effort she had managed to keep her voice normal. Fine, she’d said, dinner will be ready.

  But it wasn’t. It wasn’t even in preparation. The beautifully lean lamb steaks she’d bought specially were still in the fridge, and the fresh asparagus was unwashed and lying in the vegetable drawer.

  The Domestic Goddess was on hold, replaced by a shadow of her former self devoid of makeup and her hair, now washed free of dye, in its natural, slightly frizzy state. She was wearing jeans and an old Mickey Mouse sweatshirt she kept at the back of the wardrobe for any small, dirty jobs around the house. It was all she could do to remember to breathe in and out.

  She was desperate to hear James say that someone else was the father of Deborah’s baby and to believe him when…in fact, if…he said it.

  But a sickening gut instinct in the pit of her stomach told her that her suspicions were true, that not only had James been unfaithful and sired a child, but it was with his ex-wife.

  Her emotions were veering wildly from abject humiliation one minute to wild, betrayal-driven anger the next. In her darkest moments, she had become breathless with fear and uncertainty that he might reject her even more by deciding to go back to Deborah.

  Her breath caught in her throat when she heard James’s key in the lock, followed by his footsteps down the hall. As he walked in the door, she studied him carefully, not wanting to miss one small expression or reaction to what she was about to say.

  “Hello.” He looked slightly taken aback. “You look…um…differ—”

  She cut across him. “Is it yours?”

  “Sorry? Is what mine?” He looked genuinely puzzled as he walked toward her and went to plant a kiss on her forehead, as he always did. But this time she moved her head backward to avoid it.

  “Deborah’s baby. Is it yours?” She stared at him intently, forensically analyzing every blink and twitch.

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  As soon as he said it, she knew it was his. His voice may have sounded calm, but she saw a fleeting flash of fear in his eyes, and his cheeks took on the flush of guilt.

  “Cut the crap,” she snapped, feeling an overwhelming urge to run to the kitchen sink and throw up. But she fought it back. “I know.”

  It was a hackneyed double bluff, but Julia was beyond trying to be clever. And James, it seemed, either fell for it or saw right through it but decided to afford her the respect of an honest answer.

 

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