said it happened ages ago,’ Esme shrugged, ‘and this way we’ll stay good friends and he seems nice, her dad. I’m usually right about these things.’
‘You were right about Evie and Killian,’ Mollie acknowledged, ‘I’ll give you that one, kid, but not everything works out like that.’
‘But I’m right about Tyler and Celia too,’ Esme grinned wickedly, ‘I started a bet with Killian about whether they’ll kiss before Chelsea’s wedding.’
‘Tyler is, whilst being very nice, a little bit gangster, and Kit’s sister was head girl at her school. They’re friends, that’s all. And it’s not nice to bet on people,’ Mollie sighed deeply, worrying that her daughter might be right about Chelsea’s brother. He was hanging around a lot more these days, and Celia always seemed to mysteriously turn up to events at the gallery when he was around.
‘Look, Mum,’ Esme shook her head seriously, ‘you’re not very good at this stuff, you need to trust me with it. I can find you someone really nice. Olivia said it’s really nice having a dad, someone to take you places and protect you and tell you not to go out wearing that... she said I should have one, and she doesn’t mind sharing hers. That’s nice.’
Mollie took a deep breath and tried to count to five, ‘Yes, but are you happy to share me? So I’d have to do things with Olivia, just her and me.’
‘No you wouldn’t – she already has a mum!’ Esme’s frown was deep set, and she suddenly didn’t like the idea any more. Mollie took her hand and led her over to the bench by the bus stop, sitting down side-by-side as the light started to soften into darkness.
‘Sweets, why were you really playing with Olivia today? I know you don’t like dance routines and girly stuff. What’s going on?’
Esme pressed her lips together and pulled on the sleeves of her grey hoodie, ‘She’s the only other kid who has one parent.’
‘You’re kidding,’ Mollie frowned, ‘Seriously? How is that possible?’
‘Or the only other one who admits it. Some of the other kids were asking where my dad was because they were talking about inviting their dads to some school thing. And when I said I didn’t have one, they asked about my stepdad. And when I said I didn’t have one of those they said... they said I must be horrible and that’s why I don’t have a daddy.’
Mollie fought the urge to bundle her daughter up into her arms and start ranting about what horrible tossers all those kids were, but she held back, watching as her daughter took deep breaths and set her jaw, not allowing herself to cry.
‘Oh baby, why didn’t you tell me?’ Mollie stroked Esme’s cheek, and watched as her daughter’s eyes met hers.
‘I didn’t see the point,’ Esme shrugged, ‘We must both be pretty horrible if he left both of us, but I know that’s not true because you’re lovely.’
At that point Mollie did pull her in close, squeezing her and letting her own tears fall, ‘You are not horrible. Your dad didn’t leave because of you, or me. We were just kids and he wasn’t ready to be a dad. You know how I’ve always told you girls are more grown-up than boys? Well I got pregnant with you, and I grew up so I could be a mum. But he wasn’t ready to grow up, so he didn’t become a dad. That’s all it was, baby girl. We have the loveliest life, don’t we? With Chelsea, and Evie and now Evelyn and Killian and Kit. All these people who love you and think you’re amazing. So what’s one man who couldn’t grow up?’
Esme nodded, sighing deeply and squeezing her mum’s hand, and saying, ‘Okay, but if you have to pick me up from Olivia’s again, will you say yes to the glass of wine?’
‘Maybe. Depends if you’re hanging out with Olivia because you actually like her.’
Esme shrugged as they started walking along, ‘She’s nice enough, she doesn’t read though. Which is weird.’
‘Very weird.’
They walked along in silence, Mollie stopping herself from reaching out and grabbing her daughter’s hand. She wanted to wrap her in cotton wool, keep her safe, she began to wonder why she hadn’t put herself out there earlier, whether she’d been selfish in thinking she’d been enough for her daughter. She should have started dating earlier, maybe she’d have found a suitable father figure by now.
‘Mum, don’t you miss him?’ Esme asked suddenly, looking up at her, ‘My dad, I mean?’
‘No baby, I don’t miss him. I don’t ever really think about him.’
Mollie felt her stomach clench as they carried on walking. It was the first lie she’d ever told her daughter.
Mollie had barely slept that night, the fear of the next morning’s TV appearance – coupled with the overwhelming guilt that she had failed her child in offering her an alternative family – plagued her until the early morning. Evie had shrugged it off on their run, reminding Mollie of her own feelings about it as a kid, wondering who her own father was, but Mollie remembered the only reason she even wanted a dad was because she couldn’t stand her mother. Is that how her daughter saw her? As someone she wanted to escape from?
It was still dark when she got up and started putting on her make-up and her clothes, double checking her outfit and going downstairs to the studio, to await the camera team. She put the kettle on and got out the semi-healthy mini pastries she’d made the night before, putting them in the oven to puff up, gloriously brown and crispy, filled with chocolate and banana slices. She’d try to save one for Killian, especially if he was taking Esme to school that morning. It was hard to know how long the segment would run for, or what exactly they wanted. She’d set out some of her baked goods and recipes on display on the long table in the gallery, each item looking Instagram perfect and ready for the camera. Baked sweet potatoes piled high with roasted red peppers, Omelette Bites, Black Bean Brownies, Banana and Choc Chip Muffins – the whole arsenal of her healthy recipes, ready to defend what she was doing absolutely.
Max’s voice kept circling, asking what was so special about her, what was so great about what she was doing, why was she unique? She had no answer.
But there was the knock at the door, and there was the team, with them the plucky reporter – recently upgraded from weather-girl – Maureen McTavish. She smiled sweetly and her teeth gleamed, huge and white, taking up most of her face.
‘You must be Mollie! Ilyaria’s told us so much about you and the great work you’re doing! I can’t wait to see everything!’
Mollie welcomed them in, told them where to set up and passed round teas, coffees and fresh pastries to everyone. They treated her like she was an angel, fussing over the pastries and asking for the recipes.
‘Tell me about this place, Mollie, how did you end up here?’ Maureen smiled, those teeth slightly less unnerving as long as you didn’t allow the Jaws theme tune into your head.
‘Oh, well this space was left to us by our childhood friend, Ruby Tuesday, the singer? This used to be her studio, and she left the lease to us, to start up an arts centre. So now we’re up and running, with community events, classes, lots of stuff for kids, and I wanted to bring my passion to the front.’
Mollie was pretty proud of herself.
‘Ah, so there’s the angle,’ the presenter grinned to herself, nodding her head, ‘I’ll be sure to mention Ruby. And you run this with a partner?’
‘No, two friends from school, Ruby brought us all back together again, and here we are.’
‘Damn I wish we were filming already, I’m not going to ask any more questions, you’re much better natural,’ Maureen smiled again, flicking her dark, silky hair and positioning herself in front of the camera.
‘Ready?’