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‘Actually Mark, we’re leaving.’
‘Okay, let’s pencil another date in.’
‘When? I’d like to know now. And please, let’s not “pencil” it in. You have to be certain about this. You can’t flit in and out. If you want to see her, I get it, but you have to commit.’
‘Hang on,’ he says, voice now edged with anger. ‘There’s no need to overreact. Take a moment. Do you really think you should punish Lila because you’re still in a tizz over what happened between us?’
I let out a hard laugh at this. ‘Are you kidding? This has absolutely nothing to do with you and absolutely everything to do with what’s best for my daughter. I wouldn’t expect you to understand that, Mark, because you’re not a parent. Not in the true sense of the word. Parents put their children before anything else and you can’t even commit to a play in the park.’
‘Fine,’ he spits. ‘It sounds like there’s very little point arguing. You know, with my focus moving north it wouldn’t be very convenient for me to keep finding time to come back to Bristol and “commit” to seeing her. You see we’re actually closing the Bristol pop-up, I just didn’t want to tell you because the press release hasn’t been sent out yet.’
I shake my head incredulously.
‘Did you actually want to see her, or was it a move to get me to take the job?’
‘Your words, not mine. And look, you can’t honestly expect me to suddenly turn up and play dad forever. It’s not exactly me, is it? I’ll call you next time I’m your way and maybe we can do a park visit then.’
‘Maybe not, Mark. You do whatever you need to do, just make sure you leave me and my daughter alone from now on. We are done.’
By the time I hang up I’m shaking. But as I sit back down at the picnic bench, I feel nothing but a sense of relief. That’s it. He’s out of our lives. Thank all the gods for that, I think, finding my smile for the first time in a while.
Lila trots over and puts a soft hand in mine.
‘Mummy? I love you.’
I scoop her up and cover her in kisses.
Chapter 30
Hey, can we talk?
Delete delete delete. I keep typing out this message to Joe and then not sending it. On Monday, as my finger hovered over send, the internet at home went down so I spent most of the evening on hold with my provider. And I definitely couldn’t send it on Tuesday because I had to catch up on work after Monday’s internet meltdown. By Wednesday I was bracing myself to try and resolve things with Joe but Lila was uncharacteristically tearful at pick-up so we ended up having a night of cuddles and an early bedtime. And on Thursday, with the talk long overdue, it felt increasingly like a very hard thing to do and I persuaded myself that a mani and pedi were my top priority.
Now it’s Friday, wedding weekend, and it will have to wait because I’ve got a very excitable Lila to deal with. Her enthusiasm is infectious and I try to focus on the positives. Getting rid of Mark once and for all has been a huge boost. I’m so relieved that I don’t have to put Lila through any of that and I really want to enjoy this weekend in Cornwall with my family. A change of scene is just what I need to clear my head. No doubt it’ll be easier to chat to Joe when I’m back and feeling refreshed.
He’ll have had another meeting in York by then, my brain reminds me. The whole move will be a done deal.
But I can’t change that. Joe’s leaving. All I can do is let him know that Mark was never an issue. That I’ll miss him. That I’m sorry.
The car is heaving with stuff when I pick Lila up from school on Friday, realising as I pull up that we’re just a couple of weeks away from the end of term. How did that happen? I wonder as I give a bucket and spade a shove, trying to close the car boot. It’s possible I’ve overpacked. I’ve also got about ten outfit changes for Lila in case of spillages, a cool bag full of snacks, enough travel entertainment options to get us to Australia and back, plus a bag filled with clothes for me too. I bought a beautiful dress, which is hanging in a clothes bag behind the driver’s seat.
‘Are we nearly there yet?’ asks Lila as I secure her seatbelt.
‘The car hasn’t even moved,’ I object, racing round to my side and starting the engine. She’s got a point. It’s a long journey down south and I want to get out of Bristol before rush hour.
‘Can we swim in the sea? Can I eat an ice cream? Can we have fish and chips with Granny and Grandpa? Will Auntie Poppy be taking photos all day? Have you got any snacks?’
Hoo boy, this is going to be a long three hours. I hand her a packet of raisins from a stash in the drinks well and make a start on the questions.
We’ve played I Spy so many times that I’m willing for some kind of atmospheric miracle to come our way and provide new inspiration for the game. A rainbow, a tornado … anything to stop the next word being tree, road or car. I’m so busy scouring the scene for ideas that I almost miss the sign for the hotel.
‘I can see the sea!’ Lila cheers as we weave along a single-track, winding road down towards the coast. I follow the drive to a grand hotel nestled into one corner of a bay. The ornate stone building is flanked by turrets and a huge stone staircase leads up to the entrance, where doors are flung open and a rack of wellie boots stands to one side.
‘Ooh!’ says Lila.
There don’t appear to be any signs for a car park so I drive right up to the front. Surely I can’t leave my car here? It feels like this spot should be reserved for classic cars only, like an old Triumph in British racing green.
A man in a suit appears by my side and I wind the window down.
