‘It’s a hell of a lot of money.’
Ashley frowned at the letter. Addressed to her daughter Molly, there were deep creases where it had been opened out, read and refolded many times, though this was the first time Ashley had seen it. She looked up at Molly, who was perched anxiously on the edge of the sofa.
‘But it’s the best, most amazing music school!’ Molly said. ‘Seriously, Mum, how else am I going to get into a decent orchestra?’
‘You can take music at A level at the sixth-form college. I thought we’d already agreed that.’
Molly folded her arms and pouted. Ashley knew that look well – she’d practised the art of interpreting it for around fifteen years now, ever since her daughter had been old enough to pull it.
‘It’s not as idiotic as it sounds,’ Ashley insisted. ‘Other kids do it, and it’s good enough for them.’
‘The course isn’t the same… the conservatoire has teachers from all over the world. Proper teachers who’ve performed at huge concerts. They know everything.’
‘Your music teacher says the course at the college is very good. The teachers are qualified, otherwise they wouldn’t be there.’
‘It’s OK, but…’
Ashley let out a sigh. God she wanted to give her daughter this – of course she did. She wanted more than anything to give her daughter all the opportunities she herself had been denied. She didn’t want Molly to end up like she had – pregnant at eighteen and going nowhere fast. Ashley had had dreams once, just like everyone else. And here she was, sixteen years later and not a scrap of them left to show they’d ever existed.
‘It’s just… of course you know I’d let you go in a heartbeat if I could find the money but…’
Molly stood up and took the letter from her, screwing it into her palm. ‘I should never have gone to the audition.’
‘You should have talked to me about it first.’
‘But I wanted to surprise you; I thought you’d be so proud if I got in.’
‘And I am! God, I can’t put into words how proud you make me every day, and I would move heaven and earth—’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Molly shook her head, her shoulders slumping. ‘I suppose I can check out the college music department. It’s probably not that bad…’
Ashley turned to the window. She hated saying no so much. It wasn’t like Molly was asking for overpriced clothes or an unnecessary new phone or permission to go to an inappropriate party – she was asking for a chance at an amazing future; Ashley wished that for her with all her heart and would sacrifice anything to give it to her. But they both had to accept that some things were out of her control.
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said quietly. God knew what but there had to be a way, didn’t there? For a chance this big she owed it to her daughter to try. ‘Moll…?’
Getting no reply she turned to face the sofa. But Molly had slunk out, taking the letter with her.
In the end it had seemed sensible to give Molly a bit of space. Ashley had gone to make a coffee and was now sitting at the kitchen table, gripping the mug as it cooled in front of her. Staring at an invisible spot on the wall, she gazed into a past she’d reflected on so many times before, though never with such profound regret as she did today. She’d never wish undone what she’d done that night, because she would never have had Molly, the best and most incredible thing that had ever happened to her. But there were plenty of other things she would have done differently. Maybe she’d have found out the boy’s surname for a start before she’d leapt into bed with him. Slut was what her mother had called her in a fit of temper when Ashley had revealed the news. Stupid, stupid slut. She hadn’t meant it, of course, but it was only what plenty of other people were thinking. How could you not know his name? she’d asked. How could you not know where he lives? How could you not have his phone number? How drunk were you?
Even though not all the things she’d told her mum were entirely true, Ashley had no sensible answers for any of these questions. She’d asked plenty of her own too, long after her mum had stopped, when she’d lain in bed with a hand to her tummy as her baby kicked and wriggled inside her. Would the boy have stuck by her even had Ashley been able to track him down armed with only the scantest information? Perhaps not, but at least she’d have known where to go when her daughter needed exorbitant music-school fees to realise a dream she’d had since she could remember, a moment she’d been working hard towards since she’d first picked up a battered old violin in primary school. Her biggest chance to make the kind of life for herself that Ashley could only dream of was slipping away, and it all boiled down to money.
It would be easy to blame it on circumstances beyond their control – that the one and only scholarship had been snapped up by a girl from Japan who’d been playing practically since birth, that the school would have been beyond the reach of most working-class people, that maybe it was better to start small anyway – but Ashley couldn’t shake the idea that, when all was said and done, her own mistakes were the bottom line. Molly would fail, and it was Ashley’s fault.
She closed her eyes and it was 2001. She was sitting in a bar in Ibiza on her first and, as it turned out, only foreign holiday without parents. The air was sultry, heavy with a mass of synthetic perfumes and deodorants, of cocktails and hormones, pulsing with the rapid beat of dance music, lights low and hypnotic. Her best friend, Abigail, had gone to the toilet and that’s when he’d come over. He’d seemed shy, sweet… not the sort of boy who’d leave you pregnant and disappear. He’d made her laugh, and he was good-looking – the kind of good-looking that at first was unassuming but got steadily better with every shot of vodka she downed as they chatted.
His friend came over and Abigail returned, and the four of them had a drinking contest. Who’d won? It didn’t matter. They’d danced together, and he’d smelt so good. She recalled lifting his shirt and caressing his back – the skin smooth and taut. Those chocolate eyes that seemed so at odds with his sandy hair, though they’d pulled her in anyway. She’d thought she could see his soul in there, and she’d thought it was good. They’d kissed and it had been like a thousand volts, setting her on fire. They’d staggered back to her apartment and they’d kissed again on the porch. She’d asked him in for more drinks and in minutes they’d been naked in her bed. It had been strangely beautiful, and she’d been in love – of that she was certain. It was crazy to be in love with a man you’d just met, but it had happened. She’d wanted to see him again, and he’d written his phone number on a scrap of paper before rushing out at the crack of dawn for a flight he couldn’t miss. He’d told her she was incredible, that he desperately wanted to see her again when she got back to England, and he’d left her with a fiery kiss.
But she never saw him again. The phone number he’d left led her to a haulage firm. She had only Molly’s chocolate eyes, which showed her moods as plainly as if she’d opened them out as a book, a certain look, the odd turn of the head, to remember him by.
And a name. Haydon.
Ella tucked a strawberry-blonde lock of hair behind an ear and grinned up at her dad. ‘You want some?’ she asked, offering him a spoonful of her ice-cream sundae.
Haydon leaned forward with his mouth open to swoop in and capture the prize, only for Ella to whip it out of his way, giggling. Haydon grinned. It was a well-rehearsed piece, something they’d done a thousand times before, but it never got boring no matter how much older Ella got. Perhaps they both saw it as a link, a connection back to the times when their family was together, when they were strong and happy and nothing could break them.
‘You’re such a tease,’ he said.
Ella grinned through a mouthful of ice cream.
‘So, what’s the news?’ he asked, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. ‘Still madly in love with Jack in Miss Palmer’s class?’
‘Ugh!’ Ella screwed up her face. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I saw you…’ Haydon laughed. ‘You were all goggly-eyed when I dropped you off at the school disco.’
‘It’s not a disco, and no I wasn’t.’
‘If it’s not a disco, what is it?’
Ella shrugged. ‘A party.’
‘Isn’t that the same thing?’
‘Seriously?’
‘Oh, OK. But you did look as if you liked him a smidgen.’
‘No I didn’t,’ Ella fired back but this time Haydon detected a little blush. His baby was growing up, and it was too fast for his liking, but he couldn’t say so, not unless he wanted the eye-rolling disapproval reserved for his full-on soppy dad moments. He seemed to have a lot of those lately too – at least, Ella kept telling him so. But he was missing so much. Every weekend Ella seemed to have leapt ahead in years; every weekend with her reminded him that soon this little girl would be gone and he’d have only known highlights, never the full picture, of how she became the wonderful adult he was sure she was going to be.
He’d been forced to respect her mother Janine’s decision to divorce him, and he’d had to quietly accept her new partner Kevin’s arrival. He’d even borne the news that Kevin was moving in with them after only six months of dating his ex-wife with a gritty silence that belied his urge to shake her and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing. She hardly knew this man, and yet he was going to be living with her and Ella, and there was nothing Haydon could do about it. He couldn’t be there to protect them if things went wrong, and he wasn’t allowed to offer an opinion unless he wanted to face Janine’s rage. And even if he could have dealt with that, all it would make her do was clam up, so it would hardly be helpful in the end. All he could do was watch helplessly from the sidelines, glean as much information as he could from Ella’s weekend visits and hope that all the reports continued to be good. So far, Ella seemed to get along with Kevin just fine, but somewhere deep inside, though Haydon knew he ought to be glad about this, he was also saddened beyond words.
‘So I don’t need to go round to his house and look intimidating while I give him the dad talk?’
‘No!’ Ella cried, looking mortified. But then she broke into a smile. ‘Very funny, Dad.’
‘So, what do you want to do for your birthday next month? Your mum’s OK’d the weekend and fourteen is a pretty big deal. I thought we might go out to do something. Maybe bring your friends? How about I rent somewhere for a party?’
Ella shrugged. ‘Kevin’s renting out Pizza Express for my friends. We’re going to have a pizza-making party. And then we’re all sleeping over on his houseboat.’
‘He has a houseboat?’
‘Uh huh. He’s just bought it.’
‘He just bought a houseboat. Just like that? No big deal?’
‘I guess. He just saw it and said he liked the look of it.’
‘Where is it?’
‘Somewhere in Norfolk.’
‘Norfolk? Is your mother going to stay on it?’
Ella nodded. ‘Says she can’t wait to see it.’
‘Funny. She always said she hated the idea of sleeping on a boat whenever I mentioned a boating holiday.’
‘I suppose she changed her mind,’ Ella said blithely, licking her spoon. ‘They’re looking at things all the time right now. He wants to buy a house too.’
Haydon swallowed hard. ‘For you guys to live in together?’
‘Yes.’
‘Close to where you are now?’ Haydon asked, dread of the reply bubbling up.
‘In London.’
He paused, staring at Ella as she continued with her ice cream, seemingly unconcerned by the idea of moving to London. The one answer he hadn’t wanted was the one he’d somehow known he’d get.
‘And you’re happy about that?’
‘I don’t know. It’s not really up to me. Mum says I’ll still be able to see my friends because the train journey is only an hour. And I suppose living in London would be cool.’
‘But… how will I see you?’
‘I’m sorry.’ She looked up now, for the first time showing signs of awareness that the news she was relaying wasn’t going down well.
Haydon ground his teeth. ‘It’s not your fault. Your mum should have talked to me about this.’
‘She said she was going to when she knew for sure. I think she’s still trying to decide.’
Haydon pondered this for a moment. Ella was backtracking now, he could tell. It sounded to him like Janine had already decided.
‘On whether to move?’ he asked. ‘Or on other things?’
‘About moving. But Kevin says the commute to London takes too long out of his day, and he wants to spend the extra time with Mum, but he doesn’t want to lose his job in London because it pays a lot. He wants to show her some houses to help her make up her mind, and the photos had her excited, so I think it’s going to happen.’
Ella’s phone bleeped and she unlocked the screen, smiling as she recognised the sender of the text. Probably a schoolfriend, Haydon mused vaguely as he watched her. He sensed that chasm open again, that space between them that took her further and further from his life as she grew up without him. He wasn’t around enough for her as it was, but if she moved to London, how much more difficult would it be? But he had never felt so powerless to stop it. What right did he have to ask Janine to live her life according to his own wishes? She was entitled to be happy and, as much as Haydon didn’t like it, she had a right to fall in love again. Maybe Kevin would be able to get right what he’d clearly got so horribly wrong. Maybe Kevin would be the one to put the smile back on Janine’s face, the one Haydon had never noticed was fading until it was too late. He’d thought they’d had a good marriage until the bombshell he’d never even suspected was coming. And then it had all been too late and too hard to fix – at least that was what Janine had kept telling him.
‘You like Kevin?’ he asked.
‘Huh?’ Ella looked up from her phone.
‘You like Kevin? I mean, if you’re going to be living in London with him then you should at least be happy about it.’
‘He’s nice,’ Ella said.
‘He treats you and Mum well?’
‘He brings her a ton of flowers every week. Mum says she hasn’t got the heart to tell him about her hay fever so she just takes an extra tablet. He got me a new iPad too.’
‘But you’re going to be living in his house far away from here… Ella, do you really understand how massive that is?’
Ella frowned. ‘I’m not a baby. Mum says it’s not that far away. She says the train is only an hour.’
‘It’s…’ Haydon paused. How could he explain that distance was about more than physical space? It was about emotional and family connections being separated by more than miles. It was about the feeling of having someone close by who was on your side and would be there for you in an instant should you need them. It was about Haydon not losing his daughter to some slick banker who wanted to replace him in her life. When she needed a cuddle, or advice, or something as simple as extra pocket money, it would be Kevin, not Haydon, on hand to give it. And soon Kevin would slot into the Dad-shaped hole in her world, and Haydon would become obsolete, surplus to requirements, and she wouldn’t need him any more.
And if Ella didn’t need him, then who would?
‘What’s that thing called?’
‘Mum, I have no idea what you mean.’ Ashley rubbed at her temples, phone clamped to her ear.
‘You know… lots of people pay for the thing you need and you promise them something in return… Jane’s daughter did it to make that short film…’
‘Crowdfunding?’
‘That’s the one. Why can’t you do that?’
‘What on earth can we offer in return? It’s not like Molly will have something to give people when they donate. At least, not for years.’
‘Do you have to give something to them?’
‘I’m pretty sure that’s the way it works.’
There was a sigh from the other end of the line. ‘Why won’t you let Maurice help? You’d save all this worry and trouble if you’d just let him help, and he wants to.’
‘I can’t—’
‘He thinks of you as family now and he’s happy to give you the money; at least let him pay for the first year so you have more time to find the rest. When you can manage it, if you really feel terrible about it, you can pay him back, though he won’t miss the money, so I’m quite sure he wouldn’t nag about it.’
‘Whether he misses the money is not the issue, Mum. I’ve never wanted handouts to bring Molly up and I’m not about to start taking them now.’
‘It’s not a handout – it’s an investment in Molly’s future. And you can’t keep punishing yourself for a mistake you think you made all those years ago by refusing every scrap of help from everyone. If anyone was to blame for what happened it’s that boy, the one you met on that stupid holiday… But that’s all water under the bridge now. Molly is my granddaughter and don’t you think I want to see her do well? She’s got this wonderful talent – and I don’t have a clue where she got her musical ability from because the rest of us are tone-deaf – and why shouldn’t she have the best chance to show the world what she can do?’
‘I’m not taking Maurice’s money.’
‘Would you take it if it were mine?’
‘But I know it wouldn’t be yours because you don’t have that much cash.’
‘How do you know?’ Sue squeaked indignantly. Ashley, despite the nature of the conversation, had to hold in a laugh.
‘Because I grew up with you, don’t forget. We’ve never been rich enough to pay for things like music-school fees.’
‘We never needed to before. Maybe we’d have found the money if we’d needed to.’
‘Mum, I know it’s Maurice’s money you’re offering, and that’s why I’m saying no. And I’m going to say no every time you bring it up so you might as well stop. I understand why Molly phoned you with this, but I wish she hadn’t because I haven’t even had a chance to see if I can reach a solution yet without involving everyone else.’
‘So what are you going to do? Last month you couldn’t afford the new brakes on the car…’
‘I’ll think of something… Maybe I’ll call the building society about remortgaging the house.’
‘No!’
‘Why not? It seems the simplest and cheapest way.’
‘It’s a one-way ticket to disaster!’
Ashley sniffed. ‘Lots of people do it.’
‘And lots of people get into trouble doing it. More debt is not the answer.’
‘It’s the only answer I have.’
‘I’ve told you—’
‘I know,’ Ashley cut in. ‘And I’ve told you that I just can’t take Maurice’s money.’
‘Bloody stubborn. Proud and pig-headed…’
‘I wonder where I get that from.’
There was a another sigh on the line, but Ashley could hear the exasperated smile in it.
‘Don’t be angry,’ she said. ‘I know you and Maurice mean well but I can’t be indebted… not to anyone. Me and Moll, we’ll make our own way in the world or not at all.’
‘I’m not sure Molly agrees with you on that. And what’s the point in being so noble about it when there’s a simple solution that would give everyone the outcome they want? I wish you’d swallow this stupid, stubborn pride, just once, and let people help.’
Ashley paused, her gaze wandering to the ceiling. Upstairs, Molly was in her room, probably having to talk herself into a future that she didn’t want, a plan B that she’d have to make the best of but one that was a million miles away from the plan A she’d dreamed of.
‘I’ll give it some thought,’ she said finally.
‘I’m not going to let it drop, so don’t think you can say that and I’ll conveniently forget about it.’
‘I would never suggest such a thing,’ Ashley replied with a wry smile.
‘There was something else I wanted to talk to you about while I have you on the phone,’ her mum added.
‘Go on.’
‘Now I don’t want you to start telling me how you can’t afford it…’
‘Mum!’
‘OK, Maurice’s aunt Violette has a big birthday coming up and the whole family – I mean the whole family – are going to be there. That means he’d like us to go.’
‘But we’re not really family—’
‘As far as Maurice is concerned we are. He couldn’t have children with his first wife, and he’s very fond of you and Molly; you’re as close to a daughter and granddaughter as he has, you know that.’
‘I know, but—’
‘Please. I know you’re absolutely fixated on this idea that you have to pay your own way, and I know you won’t be able to afford this, but it’s not fair to Maurice to turn us down flat. For once, put your pride to one side and think about the greater good. Yes, it will mean someone has to help you to pay for your travel down to the South of France, but it also means that you’ll make Maurice, his aunt and the whole family very happy by being there.’
‘Is it really such a big deal?’
‘She’s a hundred. I’d say that’s a pretty big deal. Let’s be honest, she may well never see another birthday beyond this, and that’s why they’re making such a big fuss. Besides, you’ve never seen Maurice’s home in Saint-Raphaël… it’s beautiful. And surely Molly deserves to see it even if you don’t feel you do?’
Ashley stared at her slippered feet. She supposed it would go some way to making up to Molly for all the disappointment she’d had to endure of late. And it was certainly a lot less expensive than two years of fees for a prestigious music school. Neither could she argue with her mother’s assertions that a centenary was a pretty big occasion in anyone’s book. So when you looked at it that way it seemed only fair to make an effort to go.
‘OK, Mum, but here’s the deal – Molly and I are travelling separately and we’re doing it on a budget. And when I get some money I’m paying you back for anything I might need to borrow. And no swanky hotels, so don’t even think about trying to book one on the sly for us – we’ll make do with a hostel somewhere.’
‘I don’t know where you get your stinginess from.’
‘I’m not stingy, I’m frugal – I have to be.’
‘You don’t have to be anything…’ Sue let out a sigh. ‘We’ll be staying with Maurice’s aunt, anyway, and her house is huge. I expect she’ll have room for two more small ones.’
‘I’d feel bad about putting her out.’
‘I don’t think for a minute she’ll be put out, and she does so want everyone there. Maurice can ask her, but I don’t expect there’ll be any problems.’
‘As long as it’s no bother and people aren’t just pretending we’re not under their feet.’
‘That means you’ll come?’
‘When is it? I’ve got to check the holiday list at work and clear it with my boss.’
‘Next month. I’ll ping over the dates we’re travelling when Maurice finalises them. As for travelling separately you might as well come with us as Maurice is planning to drive down to the South of France and there’s room in the car. It will save all of us a lot of money.’
‘A road trip? Through France?’ Ashley stifled a grin. She’d told her mum that she was only going to this party to make Maurice happy but already she could feel the sun on her face, smell the lavender as they drove through a rolling purple landscape, taste the fresh croissants and seafood. She hadn’t chosen this trip, and she hated the fact that it would set her back financially, but she couldn’t deny that she was more ready for a holiday than she’d ever been. The last time she’d been away with Molly was a soggy week in a caravan in Bognor Regis where Molly had mostly sat messaging friends on her phone and Ashley had been forced to work her way through the extensive but very crappy library that the caravan owners had left in a cupboard for their guests. She’d hardly returned feeling rested, and since then, whenever a UK holiday was mentioned again, Molly had looked horrified at the prospect.
‘We might as well make it one,’ Sue said. ‘Go on, tell me you’re not a teensy bit excited…’
‘Don’t be daft. And remember that I can’t say yes until I’ve checked with work.’
‘But if it’s OK with them then it’s OK with you?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Brilliant!’ Sue squeaked. ‘Maurice will be thrilled!’
Haydon gritted his teeth and swallowed the urge to swear. The last thing he needed was to send Ella home with reports of a foul-mouthed and impatient father when he really ought to be making the very best impression. He needed to keep Janine onside if he was going to persuade her that moving to London was a bad idea for the future of his relationship with Ella and for Ella’s experience of a fractured household.
The van ahead inched forward and then the angry red of its brake lights pierced the rain on the windscreen.
‘Seriously,’ Haydon muttered, ‘what’s the bloody hold-up?’
‘Will you be late, Dad?’
He forced a smile for Ella, sitting beside him with one earphone in, the other hanging down her chest. Not for the first time he marvelled that the volume of the music coming from the unoccupied earphone wasn’t causing blood to come from her nose, though he knew better than to say so. He’d done that once before and the look she’d given him almost sh. . .
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