Perfect Daughter (26 page)

She nodded again.

‘In that whole time, Jacks, I have only ever put you and the kids first. I’ve worked as hard as I could to make a life for us.’

‘I know that,’ she whispered.

‘Do you think I didn’t have dreams?’ he asked.

She looked at him, unsure of how to answer.

‘Do you think when I was younger I saw myself lugging wet turf around on muddy building sites with an aching back?’

She carried on staring at him, her heart pounding.

‘Because I can tell you, I didn’t. You know I wanted to be a footballer, everyone knows that, but when I knew that wasn’t going to work out for me, do you know what I wanted to do?’

She shook her head.

‘I wanted to go to college. I fancied the idea of putting a suit on and working in an office. Did you know that?’

‘No.’ She looked at her hands.

‘No,’ he repeated. ‘But I couldn’t go to college, couldn’t learn a skill or get trained in computers or anything because I had a wife and a baby, a little girl who was more precious to me than anything and I had to earn money to pay the mortgage to keep a roof over your heads and to put food on the table.’

‘I know, Pete, and I’m grateful for how hard you work.’ She was sincere.

He raised his finger to quiet her.

‘Every day I get in the van, put the radio on and blast my feet with hot air, trying to store up some heat for the day ahead. I hate being cold. I hate it. And every day I drive past men in suits and boys in suits, all reading the paper or watching the world go by with fancy haircuts and clean shoes and I wonder how you get to be one of them blokes who wakes up and puts a suit on and sits behind a desk, shovelling paper instead of soil, answering the phone instead of the yell of a site foreman. I sometimes think that might have been me if things had been different. That’s my pipe dream, Jacks, to be a manager. I know how funny that must sound, but who knows, if I hadn’t fallen in love with a girl so young…’ His voice was now thick with emotion. ‘And that girl… I watch her now, watch her shrink away from me as her jaw tightens every day with irritation if I eat noisily or don’t put my boots away or any of the million other things I do to annoy her and I have to stop myself from reminding her that I’m tired too and that I’m only human, I’m going to make mistakes sometimes.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He ignored her, maybe he hadn’t heard. ‘And the thing is, you don’t need to tell me how disappointed you are with your lot in life – I know it, I can see it in your face and in your actions and in your constant bloody daydreaming. Your disappointment only makes me feel even more worthless.’

‘I never wanted to make you feel like that.’

‘Well, you have, you do. I have never refused you anything, never flinched when you brought your mum into our home, knowing it was going to mean upheaval for me and the kids. I haven’t even moaned about our crappy sex life. I’m thirty-six, Jacks, not ninety-six! Do you think that it’s okay for us to live with no intimacy? Because it’s not.’

‘I know.’ She nodded.

‘But all that, everything that has gone on, is now irrelevant because we have a much bigger problem on our hands. A problem you have created.’

She stared at her husband, her knees shaking beneath the table.

‘There is a very fine line between being kind and tolerant and being a mug, a pushover, and you are about to find out the difference.’

‘Pete, I—’

‘I haven’t finished.’ He again raised his hand, his voice louder now. ‘I am frightened. For the first time in my life, I am properly frightened.’ He blinked quickly.

‘What are you frightened of?’ Her voice was soft. She sat back in the chair wide eyed and afraid of what might be coming next.

‘I’m frightened of losing my little girl. My little girl who needs me more now than she has ever done before, my little girl who is pregnant and lost.’

‘How could you lose her?’

‘Did you tell him?’ he shot back.

Oh God! He knows! He knows where I was and who I was with!
‘No.’ She shook her head, her arms flat against the tabletop, fingers splayed. ‘I swear to you, I didn’t say anything. But he kind of guessed. Swear to you I didn’t bring it up! You don’t have to worry—’

Pete seemed to crumple on the table, tears of relief streaming down his face. He pinched his nose and wiped his eyes. She had never seen him cry like that before.

‘“Don’t have to worry”?’ he interrupted. ‘I’m her dad. I’m her dad, Jacks!’ He slapped the table. ‘And I love her more than I love anything. All those nights I got up for her when she was tiny, gave her her bottle, held her when she was sick. Every spare minute I wasn’t working, I was painting pictures, glueing bloody pasta on to card, playing sharks in the bath. I taught her to swim. We grew vegetables in the garden. I drive her around, like a bloody taxi. I’m her dad!’ he cried.

‘You are! Of course you are, you always have been. You are her dad!’ Jacks was crying too now.

‘I don’t envy anyone, Jacks. I never have. I don’t need millions. All I have ever wanted is this life, our life, here in this town, in these streets, where we all know each other and look out for each other. That’s enough for me. All I need is to know that I’m coming home to you and that my kids are happy. That’s it.’ Pete raised his arms and let them fall. ‘That’s all I need.’ More tears flowed. ‘But maybe that’s not enough for her – I can’t compete with yachts and money and flash cars, how can I? I can’t even send her on a bloody school trip or give her a room of her own!’

‘She doesn’t need any of that. She only needs you. Like I needed my dad. He was never rich, it was always the things he did that were important, not the things he could or couldn’t give me. Who else would punch a dent in my pillow every night and say, “There you go, Dolly, a nest for you to sleep in.” No one can match that, of course they can’t. I used to dream the sweetest dreams, knowing my dad was along the corridor, keeping me safe. And it’s the same for Martha, she doesn’t need things! And you don’t have to compete. That’s never going to happen. It’s done!’

Pete stood up, scraping the chair back and pointing his finger at his wife. ‘It better be. Because, trust me, I’m not putting up with any of that shit. Do you understand me?’

Jacks nodded.

‘You make sure, Jacks. You make sure things are sorted properly, cos if you don’t, the choice might be taken out of your hands.’

24

Nineteen Years Earlier

They walked along Bristol’s harbourside. It was a grey day and rainwater had gathered in shiny pools in the gaps between the cobbles.

‘You fancy going on one of these big boats, sailing away somewhere?’ Pete asked, teetering perilously close to the edge of the harbour wall.

‘No! I don’t like the sea much. And I don’t want to have to come and fish you out either, so come back here!’ Jacks instructed.

‘All right, bossy! Are you worried I’m going to get hurt?’ He laughed, edging closer to the wall.

‘Yes!’ Jacks looked away.

‘Because you care about me?’ Pete asked, looking up through his eyelashes, nervously.

‘Course I care about you. You’re my mate.’ She smiled at him. Kind Pete, who had been so good to her, keeping her secrets and bringing water biscuits into school to help combat her morning sickness.

‘Good, because I care about you.’

Jacks smiled. ‘We’re lucky, really, Pete. Some people go through their whole lives without anyone caring about them or being kind to them.’ She considered this. ‘I wish my mum and dad were kinder to each other.’

Pete coughed, embarrassed. ‘Are they not?’

‘Not always,’ she admitted. ‘I sometimes feel like my mum doesn’t like me. Especially when my dad and I are having a laugh.’ It was the first time she had told anyone this, but with Pete it was as if she could share anything.

‘Maybe she resented having you in some way. Maybe life was getting easier for them when you came along and then financially things got tough again? Or could she be a bit jealous of you and your dad? Maybe she feels pushed out? After all, they had a lifetime together before you arrived. I don’t know.’

So many maybes, but maybe he was right. ‘I don’t know either,’ she said.

‘I think this trial with Weston might be a goer,’ said Pete, keen to change the subject. ‘I mean, okay, it’s not big league like City, but if it keeps me playing and means I can work as well, it’s like the best of both worlds. I’ll be earning
and
playing footie, which is not just a game…’

‘I know! It is much, much more than that!’ She laughed. ‘The physio seemed quite hopeful, didn’t he?’

‘Yep.’ Pete gave a small smile. The disappointment of not getting his chance to shine was still acute.

‘I don’t know what I’d have done without you these last weeks, Pete.’ She was sincere.

‘Well, I don’t want you to have to do without me and I don’t want to do without you.’

‘Well, that’s that then, we are officially stuck with each other. Shall we get a cuppa?’

Pete walked forward and held her arm. ‘I love you, Jacks.’ His words were delivered without preamble and took her by surprise.

‘You do?’ She placed her hand on her belly, trying to fathom what kind of man would want to take her on. She had nothing to offer and was pregnant by somebody else.

He nodded.

‘Oh God, Pete, I don’t know what to say. I’ve had so much going on in my head…’ She was flustered.

‘I know and I think that love can start in the strangest of ways – things aren’t always cut and dried. My mum always told me that being mates was the most important thing.’

‘I think your mum’s right.’ She laughed, trying to ease the tension of the moment.

‘And who knows what else we might become. It’s not about how we start, Jacks, it’s about how we finish up, and I want to finish up with you.’

‘Is that a proposal?’

‘Do you want it to be?’

She laughed again. Her thoughts turned to the boy who had run out on her.
Maybe the beginning isn’t always the best bit…
‘I’m scared, Pete, and I don’t want to promise you anything that I can’t deliver on.’

‘Nothing’s certain, Jacks.’ He tapped his leg. ‘Nothing. But if you think you want to give it a go, I’m up for it.’ He smiled.

She smiled back at him. ‘I think I do.’

He took a step closer and held her in his arms. ‘Are we getting married, then?’ he whispered.

‘Yes, reckon we are, if we can find a frock to go over my fat stomach!’ She giggled before pulling back to kiss him. It was a surprising kiss that left her feeling light-headed and wanting more.

25

After the argument about Sven and everything, Jacks sat alone in the cold, dark kitchen, thinking things over. She stayed there until the sun crept over the neighbours’ plants and into their garden and Jonty appeared in the doorway in search of breakfast cereal. His hair was mussed from sleep and his pyjama bottoms hung off his skinny frame.

‘Mrs Palmer says I need to take in photos of my parents when they were babies for our collage project,’ he announced as he carried the milk to the table.

‘When do you need them by, Jont?’ she asked.
Not today, please. Please, not today…

‘Today,’ he answered as he slopped milk all over the floor.

‘Perfect.’ She gave a weak smile.

‘Toto?’ Ida called loudly.

‘Nan’s shouting!’ Jonty yelled, despite sitting only a foot away from her.

‘Yep, I heard her, mate. Eat your cereal.’

Jacks made her way up the stairs and walked into Ida’s room.

‘Morning, Mum.’ She dug deep to find a jolly tone, smiling as she drew the curtains and opened the window. Sitting on the side of the mattress, she took her mum’s thin hand into her own.

‘Mum, I want to apologise. I’m sorry if I scared you the other night. I had no right to take you up to Clifton at that time of night. I should never have shouted at you and I’m very sorry.’

Ida reached out and stroked the hair from her daughter’s forehead. It was a gesture so sweet, so touching and unexpected that it took Jacks’ breath away. ‘Pretty. Always a pretty girl,’ she mumbled.

It was one of the only times Jacks could recall her mum giving her a compliment like that. She bent forward and placed her head on her mum’s shoulder. ‘I love you, Mum.’ The words tumbled out, not often spoken aloud and never before as sincerely felt.

‘I have some treasure,’ her mum responded.

‘Yes, I know.’

‘I want that letter…’ Ida whispered.

Jacks laughed and nodded as she stood, pulling back the cover to get the brand-new day started.

Grabbing the car keys from the hall half an hour later, Jacks was startled by the sight of her daughter on the stairs. Martha’s complexion was pale and she had large dark circles beneath each eye.

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked, unable to maintain eye contact with her own daughter, in whose company she now felt a little shy.

Martha shrugged and looked tearful. Jacks didn’t want to argue, she didn’t have the energy for it. She took a step towards her. Then Martha spoke.

‘Gideon’s mum says if it’s a problem me being here then we can go to her house.’

‘Did she now?’ Jacks pictured Allison cleaning the spare room, passing judgement at every opportunity. ‘A problem you being here, in the house you grew up in? The house you live in with your family? Don’t be so daft.’ She was insulted, embarrassed that Martha seemed to have no limits on what she discussed with this stranger. She spoke more sharply than she intended. ‘Who does Allison think she is, encouraging you like that? And might I remind you that you are only just eighteen and you have school to attend, exams to take and rules to follow!’

Martha turned to walk back up the stairs. ‘I don’t think the rules apply any more, Mum. I’m having a baby.’

‘And don’t I know it!’ Jacks snorted. ‘You are taking those exams, Martha. At least have the sense to see that they are important!’ An image of the coffee shop at Warwick University floated into her head. ‘Oh God!’ And yet again it hit her like a jolt to the chest, the realisation of how things had changed and how many doors had closed.