It's All About Him (28 page)

'Lisa told you.'

'No.'

Dee sighed. 'I wish you wouldn't trick me like that.'

'Trick you?' Vi's eyes were wide and innocent. 'I was just stating a fact. Want to talk about it?'

'Not really.'

Vi nodded and sipped her coffee in silence.

Dee rested her chin in her hand and stared into her mug. 'It's all such a mess, Vi.'

'I thought everything was going so well. You have this wonderful new job, more money, and you and Conor seemed happy.'

'It's complicated.'

Vi smiled. 'It always is.'

Dee's eyes met hers. 'Really, really complicated.'

'You know what? You need to come over to my place for the next sitting.'

Dee blinked. 'What?'

'We can't talk here; someone is always crashing through that door. How about tomorrow evening? Get that girl next door to look after Sam. Shall we say seven?'

Lisa burst through the door. 'Oh my God, look at your hair!'

Dee smiled at Vi. 'Seven should be fine.'

'It's lovely, really it is.'

'Lisa, stop!' Dee said, continuing to empty the dishwasher.

'It was just a shock. I've never seen it that short before.'

Dee straightened and fingered the hair that now only reached her chin. 'It's never been this short before.'

'So, did it work?'

'What do you mean?' Dee asked, knowing exactly what her friend meant.

'New haircut, new life. Do you think Neil will like it?'

'It's nothing to do with Neil.' Dee went back to emptying the dishwasher.

'Are you sure about that?'

'Please stop, Lisa,' Dee begged. 'I'm really not up to this interrogation.'

'Sorry, I'm just worried about you.' Lisa bent to help her. 'I don't want you rushing into anything.'

'I'm not stupid.'

'I know that but Neil can be persuasive and he's Sam's dad and he's apparently doing well for himself and it would all be so easy, so perfect, so simple, to slip back into a relationship.'

'I've no intention of slipping into anything,' Dee said through gritted teeth.

Lisa straightened and started to arrange the cutlery in the drawer. 'Dee, I've known you a long time and I know what you're like.'

Dee smirked. 'Oh, yeah?'

'Yeah, and I know you would do anything for Sam.'

Dee said nothing.

'Just don't try and give him the happy-ever-after without considering yourself in all this. He's only going to be truly happy if you are too.'

'Who's to say I wouldn't be?' Dee parried.

'Dee?'

'Don't worry, I'm just kidding.'

Lisa grinned and reached out to pat Dee's head. 'Good. I just wanted to make sure that it's only your hair that's gone!'

'I lost my marbles long ago,' Dee joked.

But Lisa didn't laugh. 'You're a great mum but don't forget that Dee Hewson's happiness is important too.'

'As long as I've got Sam I'm happy,' Dee said automatically.

Lisa rolled her eyes. 'Oh, please! Sam won't be a little boy for ever. Before you know it, he'll be on the phone pouring his heart out to some girl and you'll be finding dirty magazines under his bed.'

'My boy would never keep dirty magazines under his bed,' Dee said with a grin, 'he'd find a much better hiding place.'

But still, Lisa wasn't to be diverted. 'I don't want you to end up alone, Dee.'

'I won't, I'll have you. We'll both become silly old women together.'

Lisa finally laughed. 'But no cats, I can't stand the bloody things.'

'I think I like it, Mum,' Sam said seriously.

'Great, now brush your teeth.'

Sam continued to study her hair. 'It's a bit like Tom's.'

'Not quite the look I was going for,' Dee murmured, putting paste on his brush and handing it to him.

'But Tom's great and his hair's cool.'

'Then I'll take that as a compliment.'

'Does Conor like it?'

Dee turned away to get a face cloth. 'He hasn't seen it yet, now will you please stop talking and brush your teeth?' Dee left him to it and went into his room to close the curtains, switch on the lamp and turn down the covers. In a way it was a relief that Sam was focussed on her hair rather than the more volatile issues that currently touched their lives.

Sam skipped into the room and bounced on to the bed. 'Mum, can Aunty Peggy come to see us?'

'Did you do your face and hands?' Dee parried.

He nodded. 'Can she?'

Dee folded his clothes and put them on the chair at the bottom of the bed. 'If she feels up to it, of course she can.'

'Cool! I could show her all of my Lego and she could meet Tom and' – he grinned from ear to ear – 'she could come up to the farm.'

Dee turned to him and smiled. 'We'll see. Now, what story would you like?'

Sam snuggled under the covers. 'I don't think I want one, Mum, let's just have a chat.'

'Good idea.' Dee groaned inwardly. 'What did you and Tom do today?'

He shrugged. 'Nothing much. Mum?'

Dee sat down beside him and resigned herself to an inquisition. 'Yes?'

He peered at her from under the covers. 'Could I buy a
Star Wars
transformer?'

Dee smiled with relief. 'Like Tom's?'

Sam nodded eagerly. 'I'll use my own money.'

'I'm not sure you'd have enough,' she prevaricated. She had made it a rule that big presents were for birthdays and Christmas but as it was Sam's own money that he'd received as gifts, what could she say?

'Conor said I would.'

'Oh, you've discussed this with Conor?'

He shrugged. 'It just came up when I was at the farm.'

'I'll bet. I hope you weren't asking him to buy it for you,' she said severely.

'I wasn't, Mum, honest! We were just talking, he likes
Star Wars
too.'

'Really?'

'Yeah,' Sam was sitting up now, 'and he says he saw a Star Wars transformer for nineteen euros in that shop around the corner from Better Books.' He scrunched up his face in concentration. 'I do have nineteen euros, don't I, Mum?'

'Well, let's check,' she said, standing and going to his money box. Emptying it on to the bed, she helped him count. There were two twenty-euro notes, one five-euro note and several coins. 'Forty-five euros and eighty-five cents,' she said finally.

'Yes!' he punched the air. 'I could buy two Star Wars transformers!'

'No; no, you couldn't, and even if you could, I wouldn't let you.'

'I'm just joking, Mum,' Sam said with an exaggerated sigh.

Dee laughed and put the money box back on the dressing table.

'So can we go and buy it tomorrow?'

'I'm not sure, Sam, I have a lot to do.'

His face fell.

'If we can't do it tomorrow, we'll definitely do it the next day,' she promised as she bent to kiss him.

Sam's arms snaked up around her neck. 'Thanks.'

'Night-night, sleep tight, and don't let the bugs bite,' she whispered, 'but if they do—'

He grinned. Bite them back! 'night, Mum.'

Dee went into her own room and changed into pyjamas, pausing when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. 'God, what have I done?' she muttered. She could see why Sam saw a resemblance to Tom; in her pyjamas she looked like a twelve-year-old waif. What on earth would Carolyn and Marge make of her new look?

She hadn't considered her TV image when she'd let Louise loose on her hair but still, she turned her head from side to side, it was a lot funkier than her usual boring cut. Oh, well, she reasoned, going downstairs, it was too late to worry about it now. She fetched a glass of sparkling water from the fridge, settled herself comfortably on the sofa and took up her pad and pen; it was about time she put some thought into Wednesday's show.

She was grateful that she and April had done so much work the last day because she certainly wasn't feeling very creative this week. She doodled around the edge of the page and tried to work up some enthusiasm for fresh foods or some indignation about labels, but nothing came to her. She went to the cake tin and took out a chocolate muffin. As she nibbled on her cake and stared blankly at her pad, her thoughts turned from the show to Conor. He was on her mind a lot. She missed him. How she'd love to be able to pick up the phone and ask him over. How she'd love to sit him down and explain all of the confused emotions she was feeling about Neil's return, but she didn't think he'd ever understand. He had already judged and sentenced the man, as indeed had Lisa, although that was more understandable.

Lisa had seen the wreck that was her life when she came home from Greece and she had been a witness to the difficult years that followed. But someone had to think about Sam in all of this and it seemed she was the only one who understood that. She sniffed, blinked back the tears and reached for her water. If only Neil would come up with a reference that would give her something to go on, some reassurance before she put her son into the firing line. She thought about talking to Peggy again but it was impossible for the woman to be objective and it would be unfair to expect it of her. Peggy was doing her level best not to take sides, and Dee realized how hard that must be and appreciated it. If only she could believe that Neil was half as good a person as his mother.

She kept reminding herself that he was suffering from a disease and that it wasn't his fault that he'd behaved the way he had but that just made her more nervous for the future. If she did let him meet Sam, if they did get to know each other, if Sam came to love him, what would happen if he turned out to be no good? What if he wanted shared custody or he took Sam on a holiday to Spain and didn't come back? She shivered uncontrollably as the tears slid down her face.

She thought of the alternative. Sam at eighteen, going in search of his father and discovering that Neil was a pillar of society who had wanted to be a part of Sam's life but his mother had said no. How would he ever forgive her?

Whatever she chose to do, it seemed she couldn't win. However she looked at the problem, there was no solution. She went over to the kitchen counter and used a piece of kitchen roll to clean up her face. Maybe Vi would be able to help. Often it was easier to see the solution to a problem if you were detached from it and Vi had always struck Dee as a wise and intelligent woman. Also, she realized, there were charities and helplines who could probably advise her. She was only powerless if she let herself be. She needed to arm herself with as much information as possible and then she would know what to do for the best. Sitting back down in the chair, she started to make notes in her pad.

The next morning, Dee had to drop off the food at the café on her way to the TV studio. She was hoping that Ronan wouldn't be there; the last thing she needed was the air of disappointment that she knew would surround him when he found out that she and Conor had broken up. Still, Conor was a private man, hopefully he hadn't said anything yet. And at least she had some good news for his father. The two candidates that she and Lisa had agreed on were coming to see her on Friday afternoon; that should put a smile on his face.

She was feeling a little brighter, and was looking forward to her visit to Vi's that evening. She knew she could rely on the woman for sound advice, a sympathetic ear and, most importantly, to be the soul of discretion.

Though they had never been that close, there was something about Vi that Dee trusted. Her mother would have been a similar age now if she'd survived cancer and perhaps that in itself was the attraction.

Dee often wondered what kind of relationship she would have had with her mum had she lived. She remembered her as being soft and kind, a woman who rarely raised her voice, but she didn't really recall anything about her spirit, her character or her essence. She had just been her mum and Dee, like every other child, had just accepted her presence. Her most outstanding memories were of the harsh reality of her loss.

She vividly remembered coming home from school to find Aunt Pauline alone in the house and though she asked where her mother was, Pauline had curtly told her to be a good girl and do her homework. She was sitting over her tea of a boiled egg and toast when her father had walked in, looking as if he was in a trance.

'She's gone,' he'd said, over and over, sitting at the table and staring at his hands.

'Where's my mum?' Dee had asked, hearing him but not wanting to believe the evidence of her ears and eyes. 'Where's my mum?'

When Pauline had explained that her mother had died, Dee had run to her father for comfort but his arms were loose around her and his eyes were vacant. She knew, there and then, that she was alone.

Now as she sat in her car outside the café the memory made her shudder.

'Dee! My God! Your hair!'

Dee whirled around to see Zoe standing on the pavement staring in at her. 'Hi, Zoe,' She grinned, climbing out of the car. 'What do you think?'

'It's so cool! You look like Natalie Imbruglia.'

'Oh, please!' Dee rolled her eyes and started pulling containers of food out of the back seat and loading Zoe's arms.

'You do, honest.' The girl grinned. 'Is this your new celebrity look?'

'No, this is my "fed up with the old me" look.'

'I know what you mean, I could do with one of them.'

Dee laughed as she followed the girl inside. Zoe looked more like she belonged on a catwalk than behind the counter of a café in a small town with her perfect face, hair and figure. It was unlikely she'd ever had a bad hair day!

Ronan was filling the coffee machine when they walked in and Zoe called out to him. 'Hey, boss, what do you think of our celebrity chef?'

He turned and raised an eyebrow at Dee's new hairstyle. 'Well, well, well, look at you.'

'He doesn't like it,' Dee said to Zoe.

'I do, it's just – very different.'

'He doesn't like it,' Dee repeated and Zoe laughed.

'Never mind what I think, what do I know about fashion or trends?'

Zoe looked pointedly at his flamboyant tie and check shirt. 'What indeed?' she drawled.

'Hey, cheeky, don't forget who pays your salary.'

'No, boss, sorry, boss.'

'So, what does my son think?' Ronan asked, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.