Bound by Ivy (6 page)

16

After Dad has staggered off upstairs, I creep up myself and sneak a look in Sammy’s room. He’s sleeping soundly in his cot, his little arms thrown up above his head.

Sammy’s
room used to be my old bedroom and I love that Sammy sleeps in here.

It’s a perfect kid’s room because there’s a sloping ceiling that makes it hard for an adult to stand u
p.

Of course, Genoveva has redecorated so
it doesn’t look anything like my bedroom anymore. The little fairies I painted around the fireplace have been scrubbed off, and the lavender plants I grew along the windowsill have been thrown out. All the old furniture Dad and I found at flea markets has been replaced with white flat pack stuff.

I w
atch Sammy sleeping for a few minutes, but just as I’m backing out the door, a floorboard creaks and Sammy mutters and rubs his nose.

‘Mama,’ he says, wide awake
suddenly.

I go
to him. ‘It’s alright Sammy,’ I whisper, suddenly furious with Genoveva. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll look after you while Mummy’s away.’ I rub his back until his eyes close and sing the lullaby my mum used to sing to me –
Somewhere over the Rainbow
.

Soon Sammy is asleep, and I creep downstairs.

*****

W
hen I reach the living room, I call Marc.

H
e picks up on the first ring.

‘
Sophia.’

‘M
arc. I … is everything okay? You didn’t call—’

‘I’ve been calling and calling,’ Marc barks. ‘Why hav
e you had your phone off?’

‘I didn’t t
urn my phone off.’

‘I called at least twenty
times. Every time it said the number was unavailable. I was going out of my mind with worry. I even came to the theatre, but my security team told me you were out. With Leo.’

‘We went out to dinner,’ I say. ‘It was only for an hour or so.’

‘If it wasn’t for the fact my security people were there ... Sophia, I don’t like not being able to reach you.’

Suddenly
it hits me. ‘Wait. My phone was in Leo’s dressing room, at the back of the theatre. There’s no phone reception back there. So I guess no calls could get through.’

‘
Leo’s dressing room?’ Marc growls.

‘He confiscated my
phone,’ I explain. ‘So I could concentrate better. Otherwise I’d just have been checking it all day for your calls.

‘
He took your phone?’ Marc sounds furious.

‘I mean ... it wasn’t exactly like that. I agreed to it. He was right. It would have been a distraction.’

I can hear Marc breathing. Hard.

‘Marc?’

‘Don’t give Leo your phone again.’

I rub my eyes, tired suddenly. ‘Marc, you’re making something out of nothing.’

‘Get some sleep. I’ll see you soon.’

‘When?’ I ask
. ‘It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow.’

‘And you have all day free. Until your show at eight.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because I know
your schedule.’

‘
How?’

‘
Sophia, it’s my job to look after you. Don’t you think I’d find out your rehearsal and show schedule?’

‘Yes, but how?’

‘One of my team is very good at extracting information from computers.’

I sigh.
‘You could have just asked me. I’d tell you whatever you wanted to know.’

Marc laughs. ‘Like the fact you were going out to dinner with Leo Falkirk?’

‘That was a last minute thing. I would have told you. It was no secret.’ I slump on the sofa, really tired all of a sudden. ‘Look, I’m too tired for you to be jealous right now, okay? We’re having a bit of a family crisis.’

‘What’s going on?’ Marc’s voice is urgent
.

‘Genoveva
left. Dad needs a bit of looking after.’

‘Do you need me to send anyone? Staff? Rodney?’

‘No, it’s fine. Dad isn’t the sort of person who likes strangers around when he’s down. He needs his family right now.’

‘You’re a very good daughter
.’

‘I’m just looking after my dad, that’s all. Just like anyone else would
do. What did you have planned for tomorrow?’

A pause. ‘I was p
lanning on taking you shopping. But if your father needs you—’

‘Shopping?’

‘For Christmas presents.’

‘I’ve bought all m
y Christmas presents,’ I say. ‘Months ago. I like to get my shopping out of the way early.’ I don’t add,
it works out cheaper that way.

Marc laughs. ‘Very organised. But I
didn’t mean
your
shopping.
I
wanted to buy Christmas presents for you and your family.’

‘Oh Marc.’ I feel myself soften. ‘That’s … lovely. Truly. But please don’t feel you have to go to any trouble. My family are just happy to be together at Christmas. And as for me, being with you on Christmas day is the best present ever.’

‘I’d never dream of turning up at your family home without Christmas gifts.’

I smile down the phone. ‘
I understand. I guess I’d feel the same, if I were you.’ I hesitate. ‘But ... how can you buy a present for me if I’m with you?’

‘Very easily,’ says Marc. ‘You can choose exactly what you like.’

‘But then it won’t be a surprise.’

M
arc laughs. ‘I forgot. You like surprises.’

‘Yes I do.’

‘You like to challenge me, don’t you Miss Rose?’

‘You’re one to talk.’

‘Fine. A surprise it is.’

My chest flutters. ‘
Marc. Don’t get me anything too expensive, will you? I mean, I couldn’t afford to get you anything too big, so just get me something small.’

‘I don’t want you to get
me a present,’ says Marc.

‘
Why not?’

‘I’m not a great receiver
.’

‘But I want to give
you a present. It will make me happy.’

A pause. ‘I woul
d never stop you doing anything that made you happy.’

17

The next morning, I’m woken up earlier than usual by Sammy crying. It’s a desperate, long wailing that prickles at my heart and has me leaping to my feet.

I trip over toys and towels in the hallway, and burst into Sammy’s room, finding that he’s pulled himself up in the cot and is howling over the bars.

‘Sammy, Sammy,’ I say, my face softening. ‘What’s all this noise about then?’ I take him out of the cot, and his chubby little hands grip at my hair. He snuggles himself into my shoulder and calms down.

‘Sammy?’ Dad comes c
rashing into the room in his boxer shorts and t-shirt.

‘It’s okay Dad. You g
o back to bed. I’ll get Sammy his milk.’

Dad rubs his eyes. ‘Are you sure love?’

‘I’m sure. It looks like you could use the extra sleep. Go on. It’s fine.’

‘You’re really sure
?’

‘Positive.’

‘Well. Wake me if you need anything.’

‘I will,’ I say, knowing I won’t.

I walk Sammy to the window. It’s still pretty dark out, but the sky is greying as dawn approaches. ‘Look out there Sammy,’ I say. ‘The sun will come up soon. It’s Christmas Eve already, isn’t that exciting? Santa’s going to come tomorrow and bring you lots of toys.’

I see a flash of someone moving outside the cottage and leap back from the window.

‘What the–’ I grip Sammy tighter, my heart beating like a drum. When I look closer, I see that the black figure is one of Marc’s security team. ‘Whoa. Okay, okay. Just security.’
But they’re pretty active for first thing in the morning. I hope everything’s okay
.

I walk Sammy to the guest bedroom, grab my phone from the bedside table and call Marc.

‘Sophia.’ Marc’s voice sounds crisp and wide awake, as if he’s been sitting by the phone, waiting for my call. ‘You’re up early. Is everything okay?’

‘Sammy woke me. It’s fine
, but I just had the fright of my life seeing one of your security guards prowling around the cottage. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?’

‘I told yo
u. It’s nothing—’

‘Marc.’ My voice is stern. ‘Just … tell me, please. I’ll worry more if you don’t.
Is it something to do with Getty?’

‘In a roundabout way.’

My heart beats faster. ‘Did they let him out?’

‘No
. He’s still in custody.’

‘He is?’ I’m confused now. ‘Then what’s going on? And how can it have anything to do with him?’

‘It’s to do with … people he knows. Look. I want this to be a good Christmas for you. I don’t want you dwelling on something that’s probably not important. Just trust that I’m handling everything and keeping you safe. After Christmas, if security is still an issue, I’ll tell you everything. Okay?’

‘After Christmas?’

‘After Christmas. But until then, I want you to forget that there’s security around.’

‘T
hat’s going to be pretty tough.’

‘I kno
w.’ A pause. ‘How’s your father?’

‘
I don’t know yet. I sent him back to bed so I could take care of Sammy and do the housework.’

At the mention of his name, Sammy wriggles a little in my arms, and I rebalance everything so I don’t drop the phone.

‘Let me send you some assistance,’ says Marc.

I sigh.
‘It’s fine. Really. Like I said, Dad’s not in a great place for having strangers around. He needs his family here. It might be best if I stay a while.’

‘
Can I at least send Rodney over to help you with the housework?’

‘
It won’t take me long. Just a few hours.’

‘
I don’t want you tiring yourself out. You have your show this evening. Unless you’d like me to contact Davina. Tell her you’re taking a break for personal reasons.’

‘I can’t do that
. People have bought tickets. I can’t let them down.’

Marc gives a little laugh. ‘
If it were my show, that’s what I’d say too. But when I hear you say it, it’s different. The show can wait. Your well-being is more important.’

‘But I’m fine,’ I insist. ‘I can manage
. And I can’t wait to perform again tonight. Leo and I are working really well together.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it
,’ says Marc, and I hear that edge to his voice again.

‘Marc, ther
e’s no need to be jealous.’

‘N
ot jealous. Protective.’

‘Whatever you want to call it, you don’t need to be
concerned about Leo.’

‘I think you and I are going to have to disagree on that one.’

‘I wish you could forgive him for that paparazzi thing. He really didn’t mean any harm.’

‘I’m tr
ying, Sophia. Believe me. The way I feel about you – it’s all pretty new to me. Sometimes, I have a hard time dealing with how strong these emotions are.’

‘
New to you?’

‘
Love is a first for me. You know that.’

I glance at Sammy, who has dozed a little over my shoul
der. ‘Same here,’ I reply.

There’s a moment’s silence.

‘I love you Sophia,’ says Marc. ‘Always.’

‘Always?’

‘Always,’ comes Marc’s soft reply. ‘And your needs will always come first. If you need to be with your father, I’ll go shopping alone.’

Oh, the
thought of not seeing him today … but if Dad needs me, then that’s just the way things will have to be.

‘Being away from you is so hard,’ I say.

‘I know,’ says Marc. ‘And it doesn’t get any easier.’

Sammy begins to
fidget, and I start rocking him back and forth until he’s still.

‘I gues
s, even if I don’t see you today, at least we’ll have Christmas day,’ I say. ‘I know it’s probably not your usual Christmas, hanging out in some small cottage in a middle-of-nowhere village.’

‘As long as I’m with you, there’s nowhere I’d rather be.’

18

When
I leave my bedroom, I hear Dad snoring and am happy that he’s fallen back to sleep. Better that than he comes downstairs and gets in my way while I’m trying to clean.

‘Come on Sammy,’ I say, creaking down the staircase. ‘Let’s get you some milk.’

Down in the kitchen, I find the formula milk tub is dry and crusty and full of lumps. I see a bottle in the sink that I guess Dad must rewash every morning.

P
utting Sammy in his high chair, I give the bottle a really good scrub and then sterilise it in a pan of boiling water. I flick the kettle on.

‘It’s a wonder you haven’t been ill,’ I mutter, running the bottle under the cold tap to cool it down, and then mashing up formula milk into warm water
from the kettle. ‘But … Dad’s just not cut out for this sort of thing.’

How could Genoveva leave Dad
alone with Sammy like this? She must realise he doesn’t know up from down when it comes to childcare.

I scoop Sammy from the chair, noticing his bottom is now stuck with crumbs
, and lay him in my arms to drink his milk. Then I go looking for a diaper, because he’s soaked through.

In Sammy’s room, there are only empty diaper
wrappers, but I find a creased up, grey diaper stuffed under his pram and change him.

After I’ve brus
hed my teeth with no toothpaste and washed my face with no soap, I decide the first thing Sammy and I need to do is head to the shops.

Sammy
has no clean clothes, so I dress him in a baby ski suit with ketchup stains on it, sit him in his pram and head out to the convenience store to buy supplies.

*****

Half an hour later, I’m back home with a plastic bag of essentials: baked beans, sliced bread, tea and eggs for Dad’s breakfast, milk, formula, diapers, baby food and wet wipes for Sammy. I also buy bin bags, toilet roll, washing-up liquid, soap and toothpaste.

I wipe Sammy’s chair down,
then settle him in there with a rattle and some baby porridge.

When I’ve fed him, I
make myself a hot cup of tea and set to work.

The more washing and cleaning I
do, the more jobs I seem to find. Washing the plates, for example, makes me realise how dirty the draining rack is, so I have to stop to scrub it all over. And when I take the bins out, I realise Dad can’t have put the wheelie bin on the curb since Genoveva left, so I have to haul the green bin, along with sacks of rubbish, down the front path and onto the pavement.

I
wash two loads of Sammy’s clothes before I can even start on Dad’s laundry, and by ten o’clock I’m sweaty, dirty and my hair is standing up all over the place. But the house is looking much better, and I feel good.

The living room is clean enough for Sammy to crawl around, and he’s having great fun trying to pull himself up
on the sofa, and chewing the toys that I’ve washed and dried for him.

I hear Dad creaking around
upstairs and set to work on breakfast for both of us – baked beans on toast with a fried egg on top.

When Dad comes downstairs, his eyes light up at the clean house and the breakfast on the table.

‘It’s good to have you home love,’ he says, his words full of emotion. ‘I haven’t been coping. Well, I suppose that’s pretty obvious.’ He takes a seat at the dining table.

‘It’s okay
Dad. You haven’t had an easy time.’

‘You’re the best daughter a dad could hope for. You know that, don’t you?’

‘Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. I should have visited sooner.’

Dad sits at the table. ‘This looks great, love. First decent breakfast I’ve had all week.’

‘What have you been eating?’ I ask, somewhat dreading the answer.

‘
Cheap bacon sandwiches from the burger van on the industrial estate.’

‘What’s Sammy been having?’

‘Milk and a bit of my bacon roll.’

‘
I’ll go shopping again later. Get some proper food in.’

‘Wo
uld you write down a few meals that I can do for Sammy?’ Dad asks. ‘Simple things. You know. That even someone like me can do.’

I smile. My dad can make the simplest cooking complicated. He tried to make sausage and mash once. I still shudder at
the places I found mashed potato.

‘Of course I will Dad, but you needn’t worry for the time being. I’m going to stay here a few days.’

‘You are?’

‘Of course. I’m not going
to leave you and Sammy alone.’

‘You’ll still
do your shows, won’t you love?’

‘Yes. I can’t let the audiences down.
But I’ll make sure I leave you and Sammy with a good meal and instructions for his bedtime. Do you have someone who can babysit when you’re out working?’

‘I’m not working right now. I need to g
et my head together.’

‘
I wish you’d called me before. What did you think? That I’d turn up on Christmas day and not notice what a state the house was in?’

‘I thought I’d have it cleared up by then.’

‘Ever the optimist.’ I smile, and I’m happy to see Dad give me a tired smile in return.

‘Something like that.’