Coming Home to Jasmine Cottage Page 12

  He’d been living a lie. And this was the final, damning confirmation.

  ‘Letter on the table.’ He nodded towards the envelope as he pushed a mug of coffee towards Lucy, regretting that he’d gone for instant. He needed a real caffeine hit.

  Half term had gone far too smoothly, which should have set off warning bells. Josie had skyped once, and gone into such raptures about the new guinea pig and Maisie’s art work, until the connection had been unceremoniously curtailed, the little girl hadn’t had a chance to ask when she was coming home. When he’d tucked her in bed, he’d managed to distract her, by talking about the pumpkin they were going to carve, the new hutch they were building, all the things she could tell Mummy about next time.

  Josie had been politeness and jollity itself, but he hadn’t realised until now what that glint in her eye had been. It had been determination. A decision made. In fact, he had a sneaking suspicion that seeing them so happy together, hearing about the life they were making, had made it all worse.

  She was jealous.

  ‘I’m going over to chat to my solicitor, he’s an old family friend.’ He made a conscious effort to snap out of the negative thoughts. ‘Will you come?’

  ‘What about Maisie?’

  ‘She’s at Becky’s today, and Eric is covering the surgery.’

  ‘Well of course I will, if you want me to.’

  ‘I do, I need you to.’ He sat down opposite her and tried to smile, but it hurt his cheeks. ‘Malcolm, the solicitor, said it could be a bumpy ride.’

  ‘Well as long as the trip over to his isn’t, you can count me in.’ She smiled, but it was tinged with apprehension. Which was exactly how he felt.

  ***

  Malcolm Taylor lived in what could be called a des. res. Situated in a small market town a twenty minute drive from Langtry Meadows it didn’t reek family money as Lucy had expected though. It was ultra-modern.

  ‘So this is the payback for handling other people’s divorces is it?’ Charlie eyed up the acres of glass, and Lucy knew her jaw had dropped. It wasn’t to her taste, but she could certainly admire the place.

  ‘The house came with the wife.’ Noticing the admiring looks as he answered the door, Malcolm winked at Charlie, then gave Lucy an assessing look that made her blush. ‘Come in, come in,’ and led the way down the bright hallway to a surprisingly old-fashioned study. ‘But as you can see, the furniture in here came with me, old fuddy-duddy that I am.’

  He didn’t look that much of a fuddy-duddy to Lucy. His hair was greying, but she only noticed that now that he’d directed his attention in Charlie’s direction, when he’d been looking at her all she’d been aware of was the piercing gaze which wasn’t unkind, but was definitely unsettling.

  ‘Right.’ He got straight down to business, glancing through the papers on his desk. ‘Let’s cover the easy bit first. Your previous business, the joint practice you had, isn’t a concern, I take it?’

  ‘No.’ Charlie shook his head. ‘We sold that soon after we separated, split the proceeds. She carried on working there for a bit, for the new owner. She’s moved on now.’

  ‘Any other shared assets?’

  ‘Nope. We both had a car. She was independent, the business was a partnership, equal shares.’

  ‘And you have one child?’

  Lucy was sure he blanched.

  ‘Yes, Maisie.’

  ‘Did she stop work when she was pregnant, when the child was born?’

  ‘No, well only for a couple of months. She liked working, we were similar in that respect. Ambitious. Well I thought we were.’ Charlie’s lips had tightened, and Lucy wanted to reach out and reassure him. ‘But apparently I got that wrong.’

  Malcolm made a note. ‘And she has nothing to stop her working?’

  ‘No, look Malcolm, I don’t think any of this is an issue.’

  ‘I need to establish all the facts, Charlie.’ His tone was low, soothing.

  ‘But it comes down to our, to Maisie.’

  ‘Who she claims here might not be yours?’ Malcolm peered over his glasses, then tapped his pen on the pad in front of him.

  ‘She looks like you.’ Lucy spoke without thinking, then decided she’d be better keeping out of it, when Malcolm shot her a glance.

  ‘And you haven’t taken a DNA test?’

  ‘No.’

  He leaned forward. ‘Positive? No kind of paternity test, not even a kit off the internet?’

  ‘I was this close.’ Charlie held forefinger and thumb close together. ‘The form was printed out, on my desk. But then I decided to ask your advice first.’

  Malcolm sat back, his fingers steepled together. ‘If a test proved you were the child’s biological father, then obviously that would work in our favour. But,’ he sat forward again, ‘taking one risks a negative result, which could, only could mind you, leave you in a very vulnerable position, depending on the mother’s stance,’ he glanced at the sheet of paper on his desk, ‘although she does appear rather confrontational. You were having sexual relations at the time she fell pregnant?’

  ‘Yes, we were married for God’s sake, I just assumed she was mine. Okay maybe it didn’t happen that often, but it happened. We slept together.’

  ‘And you say,’ he paused, ‘you didn’t see your daughter for a while?’

  ‘Josie said it would be confusing for Maisie if I wasn’t her dad. It wasn’t my choice.’

  ‘But you didn’t challenge her?’

  ‘I wanted what was best for Maisie, I was in shock, I’d just been told …’

  ‘And the child is now living with you?’ He looked from Charlie to Lucy and back again, and she felt her cheeks burn once more.

  Charlie glanced at Lucy himself, then at Malcolm. ‘We don’t live together. Maisie is with me, yes. She came in July, and has stayed. I’m renting a place in Langtry Meadows.’

  ‘You’re?’ Malcolm fixed his eagle-eyed gaze on Lucy.

  ‘I work at the school, we’re well, dating.’ She swallowed, feeling like she was guilty of something. ‘I’m her teacher.’

  ‘And was your wife aware of this when she left Maisie with you?’

  ‘She bumped into Lucy one day and wasn’t amused.’ Charlie shrugged his shoulders. ‘But we aren’t living together, we thought Maisie had enough change to take on-board.’

  ‘But your wife was aware that Lucy was in your life, when she asked you to look after her?’ Charlie nodded and the solicitor made a note, a frown on his brow. ‘And does she have another man in her life?’

  ‘Not that I know of.’

  ‘She hasn’t made any claims that another man is the father?’

  Charlie shook his head.

  ‘Well that is a positive.’ He sat back. ‘Child arrangement orders can be a bit of a minefield if I’m honest. If she was in a relationship with the man she claims is Maisie’s father, and they could prove it then you’d be on shaky ground. But,’ he paused, ‘it really is up to her to prove you’re not. The courts will tend to assume that as you were married at the time then you are the father.’

  ‘But what about the fact that Charlie’s brought her up, assumed she’s his, surely …’ Malcolm shot Lucy another of his piercing looks then turned his attention back to Charlie.

  ‘Any judgement is made based on what is best for the child. In your case, I’d say what works against you,’ he glanced down at the letter on his desk that Charlie had given him, ‘is your daughter’s age. If she was older, say twelve years or more, then it could be argued that you have a stronger bond. That if the child wished to continue a relationship with you, then it would be in their best interests.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘At her age the court could decide she isn’t old enough to have a valid opinion, and it could be argued that the truth is the important thing. That Maisie at some point will have to know the truth.’

  ‘So a DNA test?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Charlie rifled his fingers through his hair, then cover
ed his face with his hands before looking up at the solicitor. ‘So you’re telling me this is largely in Josie’s hands, unless I prove Maisie is mine?’ He gave a short laugh.

  ‘At this stage I wouldn’t gamble on testing that out.’

  ‘She looks like me, she talks like me.’ He threw his hands in the air.

  ‘Maybe your wife’s,’ he paused, his tone softer, ‘taste in men is why Maisie looks like you.’

  ‘Oh great, thanks for that Malcolm.’

  ‘I’m only saying what her solicitor might.’

  ‘I’ve brought her up.’

  ‘Her mother has brought her up as well.’

  ‘And now she’s buggered off for six months to a foreign country.’

  ‘Which might well play out in our favour. She obviously looks on you as Maisie’s father, or she wouldn’t entrust her to you. She’s also abandoned,’ he held up a hand as Charlie went to speak, ‘her child and left the country.’

  ‘That sounds …’

  ‘Harsh? Wasn’t it harsh when she said you might not be Maisie’s father? This will get harsh Charlie, it will get nasty, they’ll be digging for dirt, but if you want a joint residence order then that is what will happen. And,’ he leaned forward, ‘you don’t want to give her any ammunition.’ He gave Lucy a pointed look and she shrank back in her seat.

  ‘Hang on, Malcolm. Lucy’s been helping me, I’ve had a distraught child who’s been torn from her home and friends, she’s six years old for God’s sake. Without Lucy’s help and support I’d have been floundering.’

  ‘Speaking as a friend, Charlie, I wouldn’t go down that route. You’re a capable, intelligent man, a father.’

  Charlie gritted his teeth. ‘Her mother left her.’

  ‘And now she’s changed her mind.’ Malcolm’s voice was dangerously soft. ‘And she is indisputably her mother. But, there are all kinds of arguments to bear in mind. We could for example claim bad parenting on her part – if she suspected Maisie wasn’t yours then she should have disclosed this around the time she was born. You also seem to agree on the way she is brought up, and there are no disputes concerning her upbringing, are there?’

  Charlie shook his head.

  ‘Another positive. You are meeting her needs, and a court will favour a residence order where a child has a father and a mother figure in their life.’ He folded the letter up, tapped it on the desk. ‘I can’t make any promises, Charlie, you know I can’t, all I can stress is that any court will consider what is in Maisie’s best interests, and that will carry more weight than what you, or your wife, want.’ He looked from Charlie to Lucy. ‘Now, you’ve been served a divorce petition. I assume you want me to handle things?’

  ‘I want a divorce, if that’s the question.’

  ‘I’ll acknowledge service. She’s claiming unreasonable behaviour, mainly it appears that you have devoted too much time to your career.’

  ‘Fine. Well at least she hasn’t accused me of adultery I suppose.’ His lips twisted into something resembling a smile. ‘That would have been a bit rich.’

  ‘I’ll contact her solicitor and we can look at child arrangements. Mediation is always the preferred route, but I suspect an amicable agreement might escape us.’ He stood up. ‘Leave it with me, and I’ll be in touch. Coffee before you go?’

  They didn’t speak until he’d eased the car onto the dual carriageway. Charlie was deep in thought, his fingers beating a tattoo on the steering wheel, his jaw set.

  ‘He’s a bit scary.’ She spoke to break the silence, the tension.

  ‘He’s nice when he’s not in work mode.’ He paused, then the words tumbled out as though now he’d started to speak, he couldn’t stop them. ‘What if she isn’t mine, Lucy?’

  ‘It sounds like it’s better not to ask that question at the moment.’

  ‘But Josie can, what if she does?’ He went back to beating his fingers against the leather.

  ‘But if you’re not Maisie’s dad, then who is? Josie can’t deprive her of a father just to have a go at you.’

  ‘Maybe not, but,’ he took a deep breath, ‘am I being a selfish git in all this? I think of her as mine, but what about Maisie in all this? What about when she’s older, surely she needs to know for sure, deserves to know? Malcolm said that the courts are interested in what’s best for the child, well I think if I was a kid I’d feel cheated if I suddenly discovered in my teens that the guy I’d been calling Dad wasn’t my father, and he knew all along. That he’d lied to me.’

  ‘Charlie, look, I’m my father’s daughter, but he’s no dad to me.’ His fingers stilled. ‘He lost that right a long time ago. He could have tried to find me, but he didn’t. He never has, he got married and started again. Not that I care,’ she’d told herself she didn’t care, but sometimes she wondered if she needed to see him one last time. Have closure. Even if he was a cruel and nasty git who’d made their lives hell. Even if her mum was still scared he’d manipulate her, persuade her none of it was true. ‘Charlie he was a horrible, rubbish father and you’re the opposite. Even if you’re not her biological father, you’re still her dad.’

  ‘But she still deserves to know.’

  ‘Elsie’s son doesn’t know, but she had no choice when she gave him up. My mum had a choice and she took me away from mine, Josie had a choice when she decided to let you believe her unborn child was yours. There’s no easy answer Charlie, you can’t judge anybody else’s decision, but you can decide what works for you, your conscience.’ Her voice softened. ‘She’s too young right now, I was too young when we left my dad so Mum made the decision. Look, I know you like to be in control, but I think you’ve got to let Josie make the decision right now. If she makes you have a test then she’d be mad, she’d be leaving Maisie without a dad.’

  ‘Unless she’s got him hidden away in the country.’ His tone was acid dry.

  ‘And if she hasn’t then we’ve got to hope a judge can see you’re a good parent, that Maisie needs to grow up knowing you, spending time with you. Then after all this is settled, maybe then is the time for you to find out. Then you’ll know, and if the news is,’ she hesitated, ‘not what you want to hear, well you can tell her when she’s old enough to understand.’

  ‘I know you’re right.’ He rested a warm hand on her knee. ‘It’s just not how I want things. It’s shit.’

  ‘It is shit. But Malcolm did say a child needs both its parents, and surely if Josie had another man lined up she’d have told you? Why bring Maisie to Langtry Meadows if she didn’t know in her heart that your daughter needs you?’ She paused, looked down at her hands in her lap and acknowledged the words she didn’t really want to say. ‘I think he was also warning us to be careful, not to be too involved.’

  ‘That’s one area I decided the other day I wasn’t prepared to compromise on. Josie knew about us when she made the decision to leave her here, so as far as I’m concerned she accepted it. I’ll be damned if I’ll let her ruin our relationship. We’ll do what it takes, but I’m not letting you go, Lucy.’

  Lucy gazed out of the window, her stomach hollow as she blinked away the hot, prickling tears. They were the words she wanted to hear, but she was scared. Would they have any choice?

  Chapter 13

  ‘Why can’t they move Hallowe’en and Bonfire Night further apart?’ Lucy clambered on to a chair in front of the classroom display, and ducking to avoid a dangling rocket made out of a toilet roll and orange and red tissue paper, she peeled a colourful pumpkin off the wall. ‘It’s like Piccadilly Circus, pumpkins up, pumpkins down, fireworks up …’

  ‘Fireworks down.’ Jill grinned. ‘I think you need to go back in time and have a word with Mr Fawkes, see if he can postpone?’

  Lucy shook her head.

  ‘And then it will be Christmas next, we’ll be ripping them down and making room for Santa and his sleigh.’

  ‘Don’t! I’m already worn out.’

  The new half term had started with a bang, when two boys from Year 6
had decided that smuggling cap guns into school was a good idea. Their argument that it was ‘so them silly little babies in Class 1 can get used to noise before firework night’ didn’t hold sway with Timothy Parry, who had given them his most intimidating stare before suggesting they clean out the chicken coop and ‘get used to hard work before they go up to big school’.

  ‘Well I’m afraid I’ve got bad news for you, Luce. His Lordship has called a staff meeting, and it’s all about feeling festive. Come on, stick the witches’ hats in the bin, or we’ll be late.’

  ‘I just can’t start to think about Christmas when we’ve not even got past Bonfire Night.’ Lucy clambered down and rolled her eyes at Jill as they made their way to the staffroom for a meeting. ‘You are winding me up?’

  ‘Nope.’ Jill laughed. ‘Believe me, Christmas is big in Langtry Meadows. You’ll soon be wondering why we didn’t start earlier. Come on.’

  Worrying exactly what was going to get added to her to-do list today, Lucy pulled the classroom door shut and followed Jill to the already crowded staffroom.

  ‘Now then ladies and gentlemen, are we all here? Splendid. Now to our plan.’ Timothy Parry rubbed his hands together. ‘Liz has put together a little reminder of the responsibilities.’ He nodded in her direction and Liz Potts busied about handing out a frighteningly long list. ‘Now, Lucy, I rather thought you were the ideal person, given the fact that you are in charge of several of our animal stars …’

  The squeak escaped from Lucy before she could stop it, and she looked in alarm at Jill, who whispered in her ear. ‘Annie’s menagerie always get roped in.’

  ‘And you have a rather good,’ he coughed, ‘relationship with our veterinary surgeon. The donkey has been our undoing in the past, but maybe an alpaca could stand in?’

  ‘I really don’t …’

  ‘The nativity will take place in the church as normal,’ he ignored the interruption and carried on regardless, ‘with festivities continuing in the square afterwards.’ He glanced up at Liz. ‘Jim Stafford I presume will don the red coat and white beard as normal? Splendid. Jill will co-ordinate our mulled wine and roast chestnuts, then …’