style="font-size:15px;"> Louisa opened her mouth to object.
‘Don’t even start. Auntie Eve and I are trying to have a conversation. A private conversation,’ Clare added pointedly.
It was no use.
As the mother-daughter combat bounced back and forth, Eve listened as Clare negotiated her daughter down to marmite on toast now, plus a glass of orange juice, with the promise of a takeout pizza later as a Saturday night treat. Apparently, Louisa didn’t regard mozzarella as cheese. Eve couldn’t imagine ever having a conversation like this with Hannah.
‘Kids,’ Clare said, as Louisa bounced out, orange juice sloshing as she went. ‘That’s all they are you know. A mess of emotion done up to look scary.’
It was Clare the schoolteacher speaking.
‘I know…I know.’ Draining her glass, Eve reached for the bottle and topped herself up to the halfway mark, before emptying the rest into Clare’s. ‘And I can’t begin to imagine what Ian’s have been through. But the eldest, Hannah, I don’t think she has any intention of giving me the slightest chance. It’s like she’s already decided to hate me.’
‘How old is she again?’
‘Twelve, going on twenty.’
Clare shot her a warning glance. ‘A year younger than Louisa,’ she pointed out. ‘Can you imagine how Lou would react to a new man in my life? Not that that’s going to happen any time soon. She’d hate it.’
‘You think?’
‘I know,’ Clare said firmly. ‘Hannah doesn’t hate you. She hates the idea of you. She’d hate any woman who threatened to come between her and her dad.’
Looked at objectively, Eve could see Clare was right.
‘But right now,’ Eve protested. ‘I’m just a friend of her dad’s.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Clare rolled her eyes. ‘Of course she knows. How many of their dad’s friends have those children met since their mum died? I mean, think about it. How many times have they traipsed into London to meet someone and then been taken to Hamley’s or Topshop as a reward for good behaviour?’ She looked at Eve questioningly.
‘Zero, nada, zilch. Am I right?’
‘Oh bollocks,’ Eve said. ‘D’you think so?’
‘I know so. They might be children, but they’re not stupid. Certainly not Hannah. The little ones might take you at face value, for now, but Hannah? Twelve going on twenty, as you put it? No way.’
Eve took a gulp of her wine. How could she have been so naive?
‘To be honest,’ Clare said. ‘I’m surprised Ian was dumb enough to think she’d fall for it. Lou wouldn’t, and nor would any of her friends.’
Eve could have kicked herself. It had seemed such a good plan, but with the benefit of hindsight, its flaws were glaring.
‘Still, at least he tried. I’ve told you about Lily’s boyfriend, Liam?’
Lily was Clare’s sister. Nine years younger and a lot closer to Louisa in looks than she was to Clare. Eve hadn’t seen her for years.
‘The divorced one? Sports reporter?’
‘Not-quite divorced. But yes, that one. He just threw Lily in at the deep end. Her and the kid, and his ex. I don’t know who was more traumatized. If that wasn’t bad enough, a couple of months later, she has to field his kid for an entire afternoon by herself.’
‘God,’ said Eve. ‘Why?’
‘His shift changed and he had to cover the FA Cup.’ Clare mimed inverted commas around the ‘had’. ‘He didn’t even ring his ex to explain. She only found out he wasn’t going to be there when she delivered Rosie, and Lily opened the door. I had Lily on the phone almost hysterical. Didn’t have the first clue what to do. Didn’t know what to feed her, anything…I mean,’ Clare asked, ‘would you?’ Her voice rose.
Clare had never been much of a drinker, but when she got drunk, she got drunk. Eve was familiar with the signs.
‘I should probably go,’ she said.
‘Not yet.’
Eve waited.
‘I’ve had a brainwave! You could meet up with Lily. Compare notes.’
‘Clare…’
‘I’m serious.’ Standing up from the table Clare found the cups and put the kettle back on. ‘Have to be instant,’ she said. ‘And I think I’m out of digestives.’
‘I know. You haven’t done a shop.’
Eve hated Nescafé, but wouldn’t dream of saying so. Fresh coffee was a luxury Clare only allowed herself once a month, on payday. And when the packet was empty, it was back to instant again. Occasionally, Eve would bring coffee herself, only she’d been too strung out by meeting Ian’s kids to bring anything, apart from her problems.
If she was honest, that was something of a pattern. Eve arrived with something for Louisa, a bottle of wine for Clare, and her problems. In return, Clare listened, although rarely without comment. That was the price of access to Clare’s shoulder.
‘It’s a good idea,’ Clare insisted. ‘You know it is. If you’re going to do this…’ She looked at her friend. ‘And I assume you haven’t fallen at the first hurdle?’
Eve shook her head. Of course she hadn’t. How pathetic did Clare think she was?
‘Then you’re going to need all the moral support you can get. And who’s going to understand better than Lily, who’s in the same predicament?’
If Clare hadn’t been coming along to say hello…
Check they both showed up more like, Eve thought wryly. She’d already had a text and a call on her mobile to make sure there was no last-minute work crisis. If not for Clare coming, Eve would have cancelled.
But even the most mundane night out was a big deal for Clare. She didn’t do it often—couldn’t afford the time, energy or money that four hours away from Louisa invariably cost, both in bribery and babysitters—and every occasion was a military operation of childminders, Tube trains and precision timing.
In the two weeks since Clare suggested a three-way get together, Eve had seen Ian only a couple of times. Both snatched drinks on his way home from work. They’d spoken on the phone another half a dozen times, and texted and e-mailed often, but she hadn’t once mentioned Clare’s plan.
What was the big deal anyway?
And mentioning it would involve being honest about
