Lessons in Laughing Out Loud (43 page)

Willow took a breath. “I think that Ed Jacobs abused your trust. I think he took advantage of your youth and that he has behaved terribly, in a way that will lose him his job, most
likely, and perhaps more. You’ve had your heart broken, darling, at the age when you most want to believe in love. And for you the consequences are a little more concrete than just the pain and listening to sad songs on your iPod. But the way you feel now won’t last. The best thing you can do for you and your baby now is to look to the future and live your life, because whatever you decide, your life will be full of joy and happiness, and pretty soon what happened between you and him won’t matter at all. I promise you that.”

Chloe seemed satisfied by her answer, pulling Willow down to kiss her again.

“I’m sorry I’ve turned out to be such a massive pain in the arse,” she told Willow.

“Oh, Chloe, you’ve turned out to be the most wonderful person I know,” Willow told her.

“If he was still alive, that man that hurt you,” Chloe said, “I’d fucking kill him for you.”

Sam smiled at Willow as she sat at the table opposite him and was promptly offered a plate of snot by Jo-Jo. He looked a little better, Willow thought. He looked like he might be growing into the maelstrom that had whipped up around him out of nowhere, rising to the challenge that life had slapped him so roundly in the face with. Never one to leave a gauntlet lying on the ground, Sam had always said. Willow remembered how looking at him had used to make her catch her breath, how every time he touched her she would light on fire. The love she had for him was still there, but it was muted now. The love she had once thought might save her was worn almost entirely away. It wasn’t Sam’s fault; somehow Willow seemed to know that now. There was only one person who could rescue her, and she was wearing a particularly lovely pair of vintage shoes.

Willow’s insides tightened as she thought of how angry
Sam would be when he found out about the baby’s father, but in a way Willow thought that was a good thing. Finally there was something fatherly he could do for Chloe.

“Gray’s gone already,” Holly said, pouring coffee. “Magda called. The night nurse said Mum had a very bad night, little sleep. I said I’d go over this morning, take her some of those fairy cakes. Hey, girls?”

“Grandma can’t see at the moment,” Jo-Jo explained to Sam. “She is a bit poorly. So we’re going to take her cakes and do her a dance.”

“And some singing, as she can’t see,” Jem added. “Grandma loves our singing more than anything in the whole world.”

“I’ll come too,” Willow said, smiling at the girls.

“Really?” Holly looked uncertain.

“Yes. I might not visit Grandma. After all, I wouldn’t want to distract from your singing”—she grinned at Jem—“but I think there’s something I want in my old bedroom. Something I left there, so I thought I’d pop in and have a look for it.”

“Are you sure?” Holly asked, anxiously. “What is it?”

“I think I must have blocked it out until last night, talking to Chloe. It was then I remembered . . . there’s something that I hid in my room. Proof,” Willow said. “For Mum. Something she won’t be able to run away from.”

Holly’s face was immobile, wrought in a static expression of dismay.

“I don’t know, Willow. She’s old and ill, do you want to do this? Rub her face in it?”

“I want my mum,” Willow said, shrugging simply, thinking of how Chloe had needed her last night. “I haven’t had her for twenty-five years, and I want her now. I think this is the only way.”

“She’s down the road,” Jem said.

“Mummy’s got her phone number,” Jo-Jo added.

“Thank you.” Willow smiled at them. “Sam, will you come with me? I might need a hand.”

“Of course,” Sam said, and just then Chloe appeared in the doorway, her hair tousled into a frenetic bird’s nest, the remnants of yesterday’s makeup smeared across her eyes. She had the look of a warrior princess, a chariot-racing queen ready for battle.

“Daddy,” she said with a sweetness that belied her disheveled fierceness. Wordlessly, she padded over to where he was sitting and, standing behind him, put her arms around him and kissed him on his stubbled cheek.

“I missed you,” she said. Sam blinked, looking over his shoulder at her, turning his neck rather awkwardly so that he could kiss her back.

“I missed you too,” he said, his tone mingled with surprise and pleasure.

“I like it here by the sea, though,” Chloe said, stealing a piece of toast from his plate and then going to lean on the kitchen counter next to Holly, who was buttering toast. “It feels free, less cluttered.”

“Yes, my hotel’s very nice too,” Sam said, watching Chloe as she helped Holly load the dishwasher.

“Maybe we could go for a walk later. I can show you the swans, there are millions of them.”

“What’s happened?” Sam asked, bluntly.

Willow, Holly and Chloe all avoided looking at him.

“Hmm?”

“Sorry?”

“Nothing,” they all responded in unison, exchanging furtive glances.

“Something has happened that Chloe is worried might get her into more trouble and you two know what it is.” Sam took a breath. “What?”

“Girls, run along and get dressed in something lovely for Grandma,” Holly said brightly.

“Why? She can’t see us,” Jem said, crossing her arms and sitting back resolutely in her chair. “I’m not brushing my hair if she can’t see us.”

“She can see bright colors, and besides, you know Grandma always likes you to look nice, and Jem, Grandma will
know
if you haven’t brushed your hair. Go on, you can wear anything you like, even your best party dresses.

“Oh goody,” said Jo-Jo, scampering for the door.

“I’m wearing trousers,” Jem grumbled as she followed her sister, scowling sideways at her mother. “And a hat.”

“Well?” Sam stood up, crossing his arms defensively. “What now?”

“Look,” Willow said, “sit down. Frowns at dawn aren’t going to do anyone any good, are they?” Sam sank back into his chair.

“Holly, you go and help the girls get ready. Chloe, you’d better go and strip your bed, get the sheets in the wash before those makeup stains set.”

“But I . . .”

“Go on.” Willow nodded firmly at the door and, abandoning her half-eaten piece of toast on the tabletop, Chloe went.

“What is it?” Sam asked her, urgently.

“Before I tell you I want you to remember something,” Willow said. “What Chloe needs now is her dad at her side, telling her he will be there for her come what may.”

“I know that,” Sam said. “That’s all I want. Willow, what is it?”

“Good, because what I’m about to tell you is going to make you very, very angry.”

Willow could feel Chloe’s eyes on her back, watching from her bedroom window, as she half walked, half ran after Sam down toward the water’s edge. He’d taken off as soon as she finished
talking, struggling briefly with the sliding doors that opened out onto the back garden and led down to the river, desperate to be free of the information that Willow had just burdened him with.

He whirled round as Willow approached, taking backward steps to escape her.

“I don’t care what you say,” he warned her, shouting into the brisk wind that had whipped up the water, snatching his words out of his mouth and throwing them back in his face.

“Okay, if that’s what you want to do, but—”

“There is no but here, Willow.” Sam’s face was contorted with fury and disgust. “He used my little girl, he tricked her into sleeping with him, he got her pregnant and then he abandoned her to save his own vile skin. I will pound his stupid fucking face into the ground. I sat opposite that man at parents’ evening. I sat there and listened to him tell me what a wonderful daughter I had when he was . . . I am going to kill him. I’m getting in my car, I’m driving back to London and I am going to kill him.”

“We will both kill him,” Willow said grabbing both of Sam’s hands and steadying him, the sharply playful breeze grabbing at her hair, blowing it into her mouth and eyes. “We will both see he gets exactly what he deserves as soon as we can, but not today. Not until we are sure that Chloe is okay.”

“What kind of man am I?” Sam said, shaking his head in despair. “I couldn’t protect her, I couldn’t protect you. I’m useless.”

“Sam, don’t say that,” Willow said, leaning close to him and dropping her voice.

“It’s true. I’m not the man you thought I was, Willow. I’m not the man
I
thought I was. Do you know what I felt when you told me about your stepfather?” Sam said, turning his face away from her. “I felt sick with disgust. But there was no one
I could kill for you, no one I could make pay for what they did to you. It just ate away at me and every time I looked at you, I got these images in my head and I couldn’t bear it. I felt like someone had poisoned everything. He wasn’t there to take the blame so I . . . I blamed you.” He wrenched free of her grasp. “That’s the kind of man I am. That’s why I didn’t take you back, not because I couldn’t get past what happened with Daniel, but because I was in no way good enough for you, Willow. And now . . . and now this?” Sam shook his head, incredulous. “It’s like punishment.”

“It’s not,” Willow said. “It’s not. For Chloe, this was a forbidden romance, like Romeo and Juliet, secret and exciting. When he stranded her the way he did, she was hurt and confused. She didn’t know which way to turn, or what to do. But you should have heard her last night. She has a very clear picture in her head of what happened. She understands completely and I think—if she thought you would be able to cope with it, then I think she might keep the baby.”

Sam looked up into her eyes. “Really?”

Willow nodded. “Yes, Sam, I do. If she knows that she’s got us there to back her up, and that you are not going to implode with fury, then I think she would feel reassured. And I haven’t said as much to her, but in my heart I think that she should keep her baby. That social worker was right. Between us we can give both her and your grandchild the kind of start in life they deserve. We can be there for them both. You said you wanted to help me, you said it would make you feel honorable again. Well, I feel the same about you and Chloe. I love her, I love you both, and even if we’ve missed our chance to be married I still want to help you. And as much as I would really like to see you knock seven bells out of that scumbag, it won’t help anyone, not Chloe, not you or the baby. Of course we need to go to the school, the authorities, the police and so on. But at
the moment Chloe needs to feel safe and centered. Let’s make sure she does.”

Almost physically restraining himself, Sam nodded, glancing back at the house. Chloe might have been watching them, but it was impossible to tell, the rolling rain-encumbered sky filled every window with its reflection.

“I know you’re right,” Sam said. He closed his eyes, clenching his fists. “I just really want to hit someone.”

“Me too,” Willow said. “Only I’ve got to face my own demons first. You know, sometimes, as crazy at it sounds, I wish that Ian were still here, because it’s only now that I am strong enough to look him in the eye and explain to him exactly what he did to me. But I can still face him, and I can still be free of him. That’s why I’m going back to the house today and that’s why I need you with me, Sam. I don’t think I can do it without you.”

Sam nodded. “So what now?” he asked.

“Go back to the house, find Chloe and hug her and tell her you love her and that whatever she decides you will be there for her.”

“It could never be any other way,” Sam said.

“I know, and so does she, really—she just doesn’t know that she knows it.”

Willow and Sam waited on the doorstep of her mother’s house as Holly followed the girls inside. A moment later Magda came out, unlit cigarette in hand.

“You’re not going in?” she asked Willow, smiling at Sam and offering him her hand to shake. “Hello, I’m Magda. I’m the day nurse.”

“I’m Sam, Willow’s . . . friend,” Sam said, hesitating as he tried to pin down the nature of their relationship. It seemed to come as something of a small revelation to him.

“Friend?” Magda laughed, waggling her cigarette at Willow. “He is very handsome man. You should make him more than a friend.”

“How’s Mum today?” Willow asked.

“Good. The doctor comes this afternoon, but she was telling me the colors on TV, so, God willing, I think this sight loss will pass, or at least not stay as bad. She is making me pick up plums and apples from your garden ready for cooking. So I think she feels okay.”

“That’s good,” Willow said, eyeing the sliver of darkness piercing through the crack in the partially open front door. Every step of the way here, she had been so determined to do this, to unlock every last door and search out Ian’s ghost. But now that she was here, she was afraid again. She was lost and lonely, a frightened little girl.

“You go and see,” Magda said. “Go, see for yourself.”