Page 13 of The Golden Girls’ Road Trip

‘Leo is such a great guy and you’ll be so content. He really wants this.’

It’s only as I’m watching my son navigate the potholed lane in his car that I realise he’s never asked me what I want; he’s just assumed that my needs line up with Leo’s. I shake off the disappointment in my son, because I love him and know that really he does want me to be happy. He just doesn’t know what that would take, and perhaps I don’t know either.

I climb into the van and start the engine, my thoughts now on my trip tomorrow – on the provisions in the cupboard behind me and the clean bedding rolled up right at the back. The truth is, I don’t know if I’ll be welcomed by Fiona, but I’m prepared to find out.

6

Fiona’s café is called the Cathedral Coffee House aptly named for its location in Cathedral Square, Peterborough. I manage to get a parking space in Wentworth Street car park and pop a couple of hours on Ruby’s dashboard. I think I’ll know by then whether I’ll be returning to add more time or heading home.

I’m beginning to lose my nerve as I cut between the shops and walk out into the square. I should have phoned; of course I should have phoned. Fiona might be furious at an unexpected house guest and who could blame her. I realise I wanted to put Leo on the spot, to really get to the bottom of what he expects from me and our up-and-coming marriage. Maybe driving here was not the best way to do it.

The square is bustling, unsurprisingly for a Saturday, and I pick my way through the shoppers until I find the café. The tables outside are full, and waiting staff hurry back and forth with steaming mugs of coffee, breakfasts, pastries and piles of pancakes. She’s made a success of it for sure and she’s in a prime location. I feel a moment of pride in the woman I’ve yet to meet.

The door is open and I glance around when I step through, hoping to see Leo before anyone else, but there’s no sign of him. I see Fiona though, instantly recognisable, behind the counter, taking orders and chatting animatedly with the customers. Leo has lots of photos of her in his bungalow: on the mantelpiece, in sliver frames on side tables, holiday snaps stuck to his fridge. He even had a portrait of her painted and it takes pride of place on the wall above the fireplace. He adores his daughter and I honestly love him for that.

I queue up next to the counter and wait for my turn to be served. I feel ridiculously nervous and try to muster up a genuine smile for when we meet.

‘Good morning,’ she says, brightly. ‘What can I get you?’

I find myself ordering an espresso that I don’t really want and watch her as she makes it. This sunny, smiling woman is depressed and desperately missing her mother after the disappearance of her husband according to Leo. She is certainly putting a very brave face on for her customers. She turns back to offer me the cup and I fiddle in my purse for some money to pay.

‘I’m actually looking for Leo,’ I say, handing her a five-pound note.

‘Oh, you know my dad?’ she says with a smile.

‘I’m Connie,’ I say.

She hesitates with the note in her hand, a blank look on her face.

‘I’m so sorry for turning up unannounced,’ I continue. ‘Incredibly rude of me, but I just wanted to…’ What did I just want to do? I don’t even know, now.

‘Connie?’ she says slowly and I can see her mind trying to work out who I am.

‘Leo’s Connie,’ I clarify, but it sounds like ownership and I wish I hadn’t used those words. She hands me back the five-pound note and turns to the woman serving next to her.

‘Kath, can you hold the fort for a sec?’ The woman nods and Fiona comes out from behind the counter. ‘Let’s have a seat; coffee is on the house,’ she says to me and I follow her to a table in the corner by the window, but it’s with reluctance, because it is suddenly very clear that Leo hasn’t mentioned me at all.

I shove the fiver in my pocket and decide to leave my hand there so she doesn’t see the engagement ring sparkling on my finger, a dead giveaway that we’re more than just friends.

‘You’ve just missed Dad. I sent him to the cash-and-carry to get some stuff. I’ll be honest, he’s getting underfoot a bit, bless him. He means well and wants to help, but I’m not sure him bumbling around the café is all that useful.’

There’s a sachet of sugar on the side of my saucer and I open it one-handed, ripping the top with my teeth and pour a few grains into my coffee, just enough to take the bitter edge off the espresso. My mind is whirring with all that Leo has said about Fiona and now the reality of the woman before me. She is nice and friendly, not openly depressed and anxious. What was it Leo said? You know what she’s like; she just wants her old dad. But I don’t know what she’s like because I’ve never been allowed to meet her and she hasn’t made a conscious decision to reject me from their family dynamic because she clearly doesn’t know who I am. I start to work the ring off my finger in my pocket, but it gets stuck on my knuckle. I think my fingers have swollen up in the heat.

‘How do you know Dad?’ she asks, and I find myself in easier territory.

‘I met him last year at my son’s barbecue. Simon has known him for ages; they used to work together at Quantum.’

‘I’ve heard of Simon; Dad has definitely mentioned him. Connie, can I ask, are you and Dad an item?’

I contemplate lying but, really, why should I? It’s not my fault Leo has kept his daughter in the dark, and why has he done that? She seems perfectly amiable. How on earth did he think we could get married without his daughter knowing?

‘Yes, we are, certainly more than just friends,’ I add and wait for some sort of outrage that doesn’t come. ‘I’m surprised he hasn’t mentioned me.’

‘I’m surprised too,’ she says. ‘He must know I’d be very happy for him, especially after his, well, you know, his terrible grief about Mum.’

‘Cancer is such an awful thing and I’m so sorry for you.’

‘Cancer? Is that what he told you?’